My most recent invention is a dating service called Hater Mater, where people are paired based on the things they dislike rather than the things that they like.
This is the preliminary questionnaire I have written for people using the App:

1. On a scale of 0-10, how much do you hate the sky?

2. Please choose the stupidest fucking sign in the zodiac.

3. Order these celebrities in the sequence in which you would most want to see them surreally injured in a crossbow incident:

Amy Schumer
The Ikea Monkey
Ethan Hawke
The entire cast from Orange is the New Black
Eric Trump
Adam Driver and Terry Richardson

4. On a scale of 0-10, how much do you hate the ocean?

5. Which Margaret Atwood novel gives you the worst stabbing stomach pain?

6. What do you hate more, squirrels or birds? (Please elaborate)

7. Do your parents hate you more than you hate them, or do you hate them more than they hate you?

8. Is you best friend kind of an asshole?

9. Do you find chopsticks to be infuriating and stupid and pretentious?

10. Do you often find yourself fantasizing about making over-rated Canadian author Margaret Atwood cry?

11. Which part of this passage from a celebrated Margaret Atwood novel do you despise the most?

“Who are you? And I mean really. Who are you?”

My gut tells me that if I tell her right now, in this moment, it will not be well-received. “A friend,” I say, my gaze lowering to her lush mouth and lifting. “And the man who wants to kiss you. Really kiss you. Can I kiss you, Myla?”

“You’re asking?”

“Yes. I’m asking. After all you’ve been through-”

“He hasn’t destroyed me. He hasn’t beaten me and I don’t like that you think he has.”

“I don’t think he’s beaten you.”

“He hasn’t,” she insists. “I’m not giving him that power and damn it, you better not either by treating me like I’m broken and fragile. So kiss me if you’re going to kiss me or let me go, if you don’t want-”

I cup the back of her head, and slant my mouth over hers, my tongue sliding against hers, stroking, caressing, and the taste of her, one part hunger I welcome, but the other part, the torment, I intend to drive away. I deepen the kiss, my hand pressing beneath her tank top, finding warm, soft skin. My fingers splay over her rib cage, while my mind reminds me that no matter how big she talks, she wants this escape for a reason. She has been abused, used, hurt. “

12. “Everybody loves a parade,” true or false?

13. Is Real Estate for fools?

14. When you hear the word “Mindfulness” do you want to build an attack drone or buy a magic killing sword?

15. What do you hate more, having to use a sink or writing with a pen?

16. Which superhero would you most like to beat-up in a fight?

17. Do you hate it when people say, “Good Morning!”

18. Are relationships insanely unrealistic and entirely impossible?

19. On a scale of 1 to 100, how much do you hate non-Spanish speaking people who pronounce Nicaragua as ‘Knee-ah-rah-hah?”

20. If you heard that Margaret Atwood opened a restaurant and that all the sandwiches were named after her poems, would you immediately vomit?

He has a few words, but they’re still unreliable and slippery. His verbalizing remains musical, each vocalization a note to a song that lives only in him. And so we were startled when he began to utter words, words we had never heard him say before, with absolute clarity.

The first time, while upsetting his food, he suddenly stopped and clearly said, “Osprey.” He then receded back into his activities, but within five minutes our friend Ottilie showed up at the door. ( She was having a panic attack because she’d lost a contact lens.) It was a bit of a freak-out, that.

Did Jones have ESP?

Later, while he was throwing building blocks at our chandelier, he stopped and said, “Pree-Pree.” Two minutes later, the delivery of my cheeseburger from Burger’s Priest arrived.

It was at this point that I realized our boy had a gift.

And as I am a Tiger Mother Dad, I decided to immediately implement an ESP training plan:

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Ouija Board Exercise

My son and I seek to contact a spirit.

1. Jones flips ouija board over.

2. Jones flips ouija board over.

3. Jones flips ouija board over.

Pokemon Go Exercise

Pokemon Go uses the GPS in your phone to help you locate the “spirits” you must capture in order to win the game. After showing Jones a character from the game, I take him out into the city to see if he can lead me to the Pokemon in question without my help.

1. Wigglytuff

Jones obsessed with stairs at front of apartment. Must climb up and down. Like baby robot obeying dark master. Feel like he’s been doing this for hours. Possessed? J certainly has his mother’s endurance, that’s for sure! Forgot to get her special grapes at the store! Fuck!!

2. Dewgong

Again Jones was dazzled by front stairs. Tried to lead him away but very, very stubborn!! Just dug in and yelled until I quit. Could a passage to a spirit realm exist there? Might have to start digging.

3. Ponyta

Jones drawn (summoned?) to empty bottle on street. Bangs it against twig as if conjuring super cute fire pony Ponyta. No Ponyta, though a Charmander was near. (N.B: Old Asian women dominant in bottle reclamation! WHY???)

Card Test

I select a playing card at random from a deck and attempt to telepathically transmit it to Jones.

1. J sticks something dangerous and sharp from ouija board in his mouth. Next several minutes spent trying to take thing out of his mouth. Forgot card I was sending him.
2. Jones finds raspberry bowl. Dumps on floor. Stamps. Purple red splatter everywhere.Like Pulp Fiction in here. Actually traumatic. J then throws dust pan into my face knocking off glasses. Funniest thing he’s ever seen. Unresponsive to psychic message of 3 of Clubs.

3. Concentrating on sending card while Jones screams. Shouting very piercing, very upsetting. Bad for health. Such a fucking headache. Sometimes just want to give up, turn into water. Take emergency pot brownie I keep wrapped in Kleenex in my pocket. Conclude experiment.

Me: Kind of scared.

Me: Kind of very scared.

Me: What if there’s a rope?

Me: I can just imagine it hanging from the ceiling.

Me: Swaying ominously.

Me: They’ll force me to climb up it.

Me: There might be a rope!!

Me: I’m not overreacting.

Me: Look, I know it’s not grade 4 gym class.

Me: No, I’m not expecting dodge ball.

Me: It would be nice if you were supportive rather than sarcastic.

Me: I don’t have dodge ball nightmares.

Me: Not anymore.

Me: Fartmares.

Me: Very funny.

Me: No, I’m not going to ask them if they can do anything about my “gas problem.”

Me: Because there is no gas problem.

Me: My trainer?

Me: Her name is Laetitia.

Me: She’s French, France French.

Me: She thinks I’m really funny.

Me: No, funny ha-ha.

Me: Cute accent.

Me: She really loves the anchor tattoo on my hand. It reminds her of Marseille.

Me: I know it was a commitment tattoo I got with you, but I can’t help it if other women find it attractive.

Me: My hands don’t look old.

Me: I’d say they look like they belong on a 25 year-old man.

Me: She’s going to test my grip.

Me: No, not my grip on reality.

Me: Man alive!

Me: My right hand has like a GI Joe Super Kung Fu grip!!

Me: Laetitia is really impressed! Gave me a hug!!

Me: Oh, you know the French.

Me: They’re like that.

Me: Yes, whorish.

Me: Such beguiling giggles, too.

Me: Are you going to your girl’s night out Salsa Dance Slut thing again tonight?

Me: Your sisters are a very bad influence on you.

Me: Alejandro.

Me: No, I don’t want him coming to my birthday party.

Me: I just don’t.

Me: I don’t want to talk about it.

Me: I don’t care if the therapist said I have to communicate more.

Me: All right.

Me: I communicate that I hate Alejandro.

Me: Well, didn’t he poke somebody in the back with his boner while dancing????

Me: I can’t do this now, I have to prepare for my next test.

Me: Mentally. I have to get in the zone.

Me: I want Alejandro out of the zone!!

Me: The next test?

Me: I have to walk briskly for the next six minutes.

Me: Yes.

Me: Well, why wouldn’t I take off my shirt?

Me: The French are used to that sort of thing.

Me: And I’m going to get a good sweat on.

Me: Oh.

Me: Apparently the equipment works better if I keep my shirt on.

Me: No.

Me: I don’t see any equipment.

Me: I think Laetitia might be a drunk.

Me: She’s all worried about me texting when I do the brisk walk test thing.

Me: Thinks I might walk into a wall or something.

Me: As if.

Me: Hate Laetitia and her bad skin.

Me: Glad I’ve never been to France.