The only thing IQ measures accurately is how well you answer questions on IQ tests. For anything else, it’s a vague approximation at best.

Talk to your guy. Just knowing that you’re working to understand him will make him feel loved.

What’s happening here? It’s low tide and she doesn’t want to walk on sea shells?

Tried reading it; couldn’t. Text too small.

Clean your face, bat.

Hello from New Zealand.

Is this text unreadably small for everyone, or just me?

God would sigh and hand your file to Satan.

It’s not just stupidity, it’s smug stupidity.

Whose blood?

Whose blood, OP?

That could explain my dream about setting up a projector in a room with a poisonous atmosphere, where everyone except me has a space suit…