RIP to everyone killed by the Gods for their hubris, but I’m different. And better. Maybe even better than the Gods.

Don’t compare yourself with others. Everyone is better than you.

Telling everyone I’m an undecided voter because I need the attention.

I recently saw a documentary about dinosaurs. They simply ate everyone they didn’t like. I like that concept.

Can’t stop thinking about that time at the planetarium where they showed us a picture of earth and everyone booed.

I’m not afraid of ghosts because everyone who’s mad at me is still alive.

It’s a good thing that not everyone has a smartphone. We also need people who honk when the lights turn green.

Getting to know someone these days is impossible. No one is really single, everyone has something going on, is hung up on their ex or is otherwise damaged in some way.

I put my pants on like everyone else. With hope they still fit.

When I’m president, everyone who listens to techno, house or rap will be allowed to drive a little faster than others.

Shout out to everyone who cooks at 180°C for 20 minutes, no matter what the instructions say.

Soft launching your call out the next day by telling everyone at work your stomach feels a little weird.

Everyone is always talking about raising money for dogs without homes, but what about the ones who don’t have cars?

As everyone was arguing about politics, no one saw me leave with the cake.

Christmas can be really hard for single people. Everyone else is having a brilliant time and we have to hide the fact that every day is like that for us.

Everyone else time traveling: Preventing wars or the spread of disease. Me: Buying multiple pairs of my favorite shoes they’ve stopped making.

I wonder what John Connor thinks now that everyone is embracing AI.

Becoming a man doesn’t happen the first time you fight or make love. It happens the first time you see the gas bill and remind everyone that we aren’t trying to heat the outside.

Everyone says “Do what makes you happy”, until you push them down the stairs.

There are only two portion sizes for mashed potatoes: nowhere near enough (posh restaurants) or far, far too much (literally everyone else).