😂 OPEN WHEN YOU NEED TO LAUGH

Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Interrupting Racco—
BONK. (You’ve been hit with a tiny frying pan of joy.)

Tyla, if you’re feeling low, just imagine me tripping over air, trying to summon serotonin like a medieval alchemist mixing Red Bull and glitter. Or better yet, picture a raccoon doing taxes. In a tiny suit. Crying.

Still not laughing? Then just remember this one eternal truth:
You are the only person chaotic enough to be friends with me — and that’s hilarious.