This was me as a kid.

Maybe this makes me a bad person, but if you're rich and famous I automatically refuse to donate to your Kickstarter. Period.

No matter how hard I try, I just can't fully wrap my head around wanting to be famous. Anonymity is precious to me. Privacy is precious to me. The desire for everyone to know your face is just...foreign to me.

Mine is (I think) attempting to chase his tail. In the shopping bag. There's a lot of rustling and jingling and meowing going on.

Awwwwwwww. I love cats in boxes.

If someone were making a Hollywood movie of my life, I would want Ellen Page would play me. She's adorable.

I don't believe in not eating delicious things. Sorry not sorry.

I don't drink soda very often, but when I do I want the REAL stuff. No diet for me. It tastes like chemicals and despair.

I want a pile of kittens. Alas, I have to settle for one ornery cat.

It's Violet and Klaus from the A Series of Unfortunate Events movie.

Sadly I get the feeling that despite being righteously schooled by all of these fine commenters, you're still going to fall back on your "birth control = sluts" opinion. What a shame.

He's a narcissist who thinks he's far more clever, talented, and influential than he really is. Boring.

Ugh, this guy.

So, this, more or less:

Wow. And here I am barely able to put my hair in a halfway decent ponytail.

This guy needs to just stop talking. Like, at all. I don't know if it's possible for him to finish his term as mayor without uttering another word, but I really think he should try.

This sounds like an excessively bad idea.

Whenever my husband is later than I expect coming home from work, I'm convinced he's been killed in an accident. Every single time.

Yes. And coincidentally, patriarchy is responsible for both of these things.

*sigh* Amanda. Really.