Me Drawing Yet Another Skeleton:

Me drawing yet another skeleton:

(in anguish)

"the hand bone's connected to the hand bone, the hand bone's connected to the hand bone, the hand bone's connected to the hand bone..."

This is my life now.

There are some many of her.

The best part about going to culinary school is when I come home with food and I text my roommates something like "descend, there are treats," and then they all slowly make their way into the kitchen to have some of the bean soup or whatever the fuck, because like I'm not going to eat it I'm to tired from the four to six hour lab I just did but still I don't have to worry about it not being eaten, it's a perfect system.

NOT ZOLF,

ALEXANDER,

NOT ZOLF,

ANYONE ELSE!

(except Wilde also not Wilde)

There's one problem with me being the hot girl of the neighborhood (besides the fact that I'm not a girl) is that I don't live in a neighborhood. I live on a ranch, so when I put on my little slutty five inch inseam shorts and my little crop top and I walk down the laneway to the mailbox, nobody sees me except the cars driving by. I just feel like I need more attention. I need to get glared at by an old woman. It validates me.

This is what I imagine the pitch for MAG184 was like:

Jonny:"I'm doing an episode about ants,"

Alex:"oh, okay. Is there an avatar in this one?"

"yes it's, well it's uh... It's gonna sounds silly when I say it,"

"it's okay go ahead,"

"it's the ants,"

"all of them?"

"yes... It'll be cool I promise,"

"great,"

"also I want to put my friend Tim in it,"

"yep, sure."