Hi. I'm here. Overage hormonal tween with an IEP and too much time.

This account is such an egg that you wouldn't call it an Easter egg if you found it on Easter.

I eat sad stuff and rent taxes. You could make an omelet out of this egg, but it's one of those crappy plastic eggs with one of those lil' sticky hands in them, the ones you stick to windows that have tiny hairs on them.

My favorite type of omelet is ham. Just ham. I mean I like it when the egg tortilla is literally just ham, and the onions are ham, and everything in the omelet is literally just ham. Except for one chunk of bell pepper, then you'd have to either file through the slices of wet ham and get your fingers hammy or just keep eating the ham until you get that surprise bite.

And did I say omelet? I actually meant just all the ham from a package. Get it from the store, crack that baby open, and grab the entire stack of sliced ham from the package with your bare hands, and don't just grab it, lift it like you're lifting a newborn kitten with a single hand. Drop a little pepper in there, and just eat the whole thing of ham. And when you're done, the next step is to shower off, clean up and move to a new life because you just lost all your friends for that. I mean, that's disgusting.

This is my secret that I give to 7cups. Don't repeat my life choices.

Welp g'day mate.