By reading this, you agree to morph into a mildly confused walrus named Max. Thanks, Max.

Your data is safe with me... how do I say this without sounding creepy?

Returns are like boomerangs—just throw it back gently.

Pants? Optional— and bonus points for Spiderman pajamas.

I accept payments in Aztec gold, animal pelts, and that payment method you're thinking of right now.

Revisions? I prefer to think of them as ‘plot twists.’

Canceling? No worries, my office goldfish will get over it… eventually.

Reading this may or may not grant you the power to speak fluent dolphin.

I bake them. I track them. Enough said.

Woops. How did this get here? Strange.