me, circa early 1800s, paying a stable boy a few coppers to ride overnight to deliver you an urgent letter with a thick wax seal that after you struggle to break it just says “bitch!” in tiny little writing
hmmm maybe the real reason i don’t like sandwiches is because when u eat a sandwich and then your body is like You Ate Something We Hated you don’t even get to pretend to yourself that you’ve figured out what the thing is that makes you sick (you didn’t) and that you’ll avoid it from now on (you won’t). it’s a sandwich there’s like seven things in there. it could be anything