Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 3, 2024
I want my lunch like I want my women: Tasty, not too hefty, and won't give me diarrhea.
I want my lunch like I want my women: Tasty, not too hefty, and won't give me diarrhea.
Empires collapse, fortunes evaporate, and stocks nosedive into hell—but a deep sleep, a clean shit, and a laugh that shakes your skeleton remain the closest thing humanity has to real wealth.