26.0

I don't know why I do a majority of the things I do. But sometimes, those things make my innards curdle and my brain throw me a disciplinary finger wag along with a "tsk tsk tsk."

I'm so awkward. It's a curse. It's like I have turrets and my tick consists of every imaginable faux-pas. When all is said and done my eyebrows wrinkle and the only thing I have to say for myself is "what. the. hell?"

If I could, I'd stand on a mountain top and scream my apology to the whole world:

"I'M SORRY, DAMMIT, I DIDN'T MEAN TO!"