Somebody please, to my horrible yet very much appreciated lack of recent pop culture knowlege, tell me what “crank dat” means? It sounds highly unintelligable and embarassing to witness, and therefore, something that I should probably avoid.

Probably like the things I was forced to eat on my trip to New York City. I lived with a Chinese family for a week, and I swear, all they ate was pig intestine, cow bladder, and boiled chicken’s feet.

I miss living by the ocean. Sometimes, so much, that it hurts. Is it sane to be in love with the Pacific Ocean?

Pick up lines are cliche. I attract the opposite sex because I’m an enigmatic ball of talent and wit.

I’d probably like to meet the Aristocats. Not only could they sing, but they were French and Beatniks.

I don’t do commercial work.

I’d name them Zooey, regardless of gender.

Aren’t they all stupid one way or other?

I don’t have expectations.

I’m always in love. Be it a person, a book, the Pacific Ocean…