Welcome to my corner of poor impulse control.

Hi. I'm the person at the party who ends up in the kitchen telling a story about her neighbour's boyfriend's ferret, and somehow by the end there's a crowd and someone's crying-laughing into the sink.

I turned on a webcam because the group chat said 'you should do this' enough times that it stopped being a compliment and started being a dare.

There's no game. There's no plan. There's me, a microphone that was on sale, and a brain that treats every thought like an emergency. We talk. We go down rabbit holes. We discover things about pigeons nobody asked to know.

I'm not trying to be famous. I'm trying to be the friend you text 'are you up' and get a 40-minute voice memo back.

Anyway. Long story. Literally, that's the format.