Nothing is important, so people, realizing that, should get on with their lives, go mad, take their clothes off, jump in the canal, jump into one of those supermarket trolleys, race around the supermarket and steal Mars bars and kiss kittens.
I’d much rather lounge about the house all day looking fascinating. I’d rather look fascinating than have a permanent income. Am I insane?
Tumblr is alive with celibate cries.