these timestamps are all a lie.

Everything's a lie. I'm not even who you think I am. I don't really dress this way. I'm not really the age you think I am. And my toenails are painted but they aren't the color you think they are. You can't understand anything I'm trying to say to you. And it's probably my fault. And it's quite possible I was a) abducted by aliens b) molested c) molested by aliens. (Not that I remember these things, mind you. Not vividly anyway) That's probably my fault too. And it's quite possible that I may be a) a midget b) a genius c) an idiot d) autistic e) obsessive-compulsive f) falling apart g) severely flawed--like the kind of flawed that won't fly and must be recalled so that no one gets sued. And yet, I dare you to sue me. Because all of it is a lie.