I won’t claim to be a marketing expert, but one of my guilty pleasures is Cheez Whiz on saltine crackers. I think the only difference is that the jar on the left is designed to be easier to serve out of, if that makes sense. What can I say, we’re fucking heathens down here.

Wasn’t there a story from a past Olympics where the athletes were mad because the dorms were furnished with cardboard beds that fell apart if they tried to have sex in them?

Sorry, kinda busy revisiting my Brideshead

Also, fuck Valentine’s Day.

Dear hot male figure skaters representing France: stop you’re killing me

Well, now I have doors throughout the house closing and opening by themselves. Second time this week. I think it’s just the normal ghosts and not the hell portal, though.

Upon further reflection (heh, see what I did there), fuck the cursed baroque portal mirror. I’ve already lived through the worst possible thing life could throw at me. Bring it on, hell portal.