Hey, do you know that feeling of hitching up a long skirt so you don’t fall on your face when walking upstairs, and then you immediately become a wretched yet resolute Jane Austen character? It’s a universal thing, right?
It’s like resting a laundry basket against your hip and suddenly you’re a long-suffering peasant woman, wondering if you’ll survive the winter.
elon musk is like if you distilled the essence of 2010 “you, sir, win the most epic of upvotes” reddit and put it into the body of a wealthy peanut factory owner from 1835 london who exclusively employed 5 year old orphans
