The Tree Hugger:
Don’t worry. Be happy. Adobe PDFs saved the Spotted Owl. Cool, right? ☺
The Virtue Signaler:
It’s all good. You’ll get through this (I know), besides, lab-grown beef will spare the Amazon rainforest!!!
The Bimbo Cheerleader:
Things get crazy, you can always come over to my place, but if my cringy stepdad says, ‘Hello, that’s a really nice package you got,’ don’t get any ideas.
The Creepy Bromide Whisperer And Future Cult Leader:
Harnessed like the wind, desire can get you where you got to go. You are the change you want to be™®©. I. Have. Faith. In. You.
The Over-Medicated Weirdo Who Ate Alone In The Cafeteria:
You’re not special. Drifting continents suffer from separation anxiety, too.
The Vegan, Sandal-Wearing, “Eastern Way Of Life” Propagandist:
The wise person does not strip-search their soul for meaning. They know nothing’s there and they must still do the time. Deal with it. Pussy.
The Perennial Running-The-Hand-Through-The-Hair Kierkegaard Poseur:
While the tyranny of verb tenses creates the illusion of time, this too shall pass.
The Perennial Running-The-Hand-Through-The-Hair Kierkegaard Poseur’s Acolyte:
If you want to know how to murder your dreams, fall in love. Guess you found this out the hard way.
The Autist Who Founded A Worldwide Chain Of Psychiatric Facilities:
Don Quixote’s charging at the windmills was the first recorded instance of suicidal ideation in late Renaissance literature. Just saying.
The Douche Who Went To Brown And Now Runs A Fortune 500 Company:
Fuck you, guess you were serious when you’d said you’d decided. Did you know the infinitive ‘to decide’ shares the same root as suicide and homicide? That every decision involves the death of some alternative? Did you think of that before you did it?