The self is all that can be known to exist
Chopped liver is popular somewhere.
Thank you for gathering here today. I will read from the following statement and take a handful of follow-up questions relating to my skincare regime and only that.
People keep asking me how the growth of a human being is faring in the womb of a woman I know better than them. A Meg Cabot book about a wedding dress refurbisher covered the concept of solipsism pretty well and when I looked up that word after reading it a few years ago I felt a sort of relief. Like when people talk about finally get a diagnosis for a haunting condition. Ease the conversation with a question about my womb first.
When a little girl gets really into princesses I don’t get the concern. She has noticed there is acareer path with very little work beyond having long hair and wants to wear good clothes with insured rocks. Maybe that’s feminism? No need to discuss.
Éowyn was the niece of a king.
I think voting against the earth in the upcoming local and European elections is tantamount to a crime.
When someone says “Jeanne! Your hair is new!” That means what you think it means. When someone says “Jeanne! I haven’t seen you in ages!” That is a statement of fact, not an indication of regret.
I have no interest in owning a cat right now.
There’s Imposter Syndrome and then there’s visiting a café you frequent with a friend who is also a regular customer, like on the same scale, but the staff light up when she reaches the top of the queue. Don’t worry, chopped liver is popular somewhere. Xx
Despite the spate of short video clips, Meet Joe Black is one of my favourite films. A speech Anthony Hopkins makes in a helicopter to his daughter about dumping her boyfriend: “There's not an ounce of excitement. Not a whisper of a thrill. This relationship has all the passion of a pair of tit mice.” Anthony Hopkins is getting a helicopter to work and makes a metaphor involving tit mice while imploring his daughter to go off and find some passion. That’s very early on in the movie.
Speaking of Anthony Hopkins, I think Jeremy Irons would have made a better Hannibal Lecter.
My skin is the product of a long-running collaboration between Big Pharma and Big French Mineral Springs. Thank you, goodbye.