So today I trolled my class with Among Us in an epic way. We were doing a test and were putting numbers into the computer to log into the test. It reminded me of Among Us so I shouted, "IS THAT AN AMONG US REFERENCE?!?!" I then pointed at the kid next to me, who was wearing a red shirt, and yelled, "RED SUS! RED SUS! VOTE OUT RED HE'S SUS!" The teacher tried to pull me out of the classroom but I stabbed him with a pencil epic John Wick style! I proceeded to scream, "DEAD BODY REPORTED!" Then they EXPELLED me and it was kind of sus the way they did it. On my way out of the school I saw a vent so I grabbed the nearest kid and shoved him into the vent! I cracked his skull but it was just a joke so it's okay. My therapy starts tomorrow

Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink. "Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave. Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette. "Got a spare?" she asks. "What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles. "Conversation with me, duh." I laugh. "What's so funny?" she protests. "Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?" "You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter. "What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask. "Teaching, I think." "And if I was your student, what would I be learning?" "Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?" "Bermuda," I say. "Oh wow. That's lovely." "It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking." "What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires. "I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."