"Action Man? Who the hell is Action M- Oh my god, NO, it's John. Wick."

I put on MACFHGEZ music and she knocked out so fast.

It's on the fourth floor and I have bad hips and knees, man. Do I die in the name of accessibility. Do I cause my joints to lose their shit so I can live. What will our heroine decide in the next episode.

Stay tuned for next week when I have another Winter Holiday Lunch in the same event space.

I seriously was about to cry in the elevator. I'm in there thinking about how I'm too young to die like and I'm going to inspire the next elevator-themed drop ride at a Disney park and how there were at least five people directly between my dad and I so I couldn't have peace in my final moments.

Forget Jingle Bells, I'll ring YOUR bell actually.

It's 6pm and I'm getting the worst emails ever and then I have to go cry and say I'm sorry to the people who give my job money so that my job can give me money all set to the (very broken) tune of JINGLE BELLS.

So sick and twisted.

I'm not trying to relive the high school days I never had, don't get me wrong. But it's nice to be reminded that I wasn't the problem when I did think that for a very long time.

Especially my senior year. I hardly remember my senior year because it was just so bad and I went off medication to enlist.

I was just a cringe teenager with undiagnosed autism and adhd, though. I wasn't popular, I wasn't liked, I don't have charisma. I didn't know how to act right. But I still deserved better than the hand I was dealt when I was in school.

I can't sew, but I could look at someone and in a second know which coat, trousers, and hat to grab. That's coat size plus arm length, waist size and trousers length, and hat size.

I had that shit on autism mode fr. I was ice cold at that shit.