I love the word “sorta.” Well, okay–I sorta like it.

It’s an all-purpose word.

I sorta love you. I sorta slept with your sister. I sorta smashed your cell phone with a hammer 17 times because I sorta hate you.

I sorta don’t care because I sorta ran over your car with a steamroller. Oops! I sorta forgot to check first and see if you were in the car. Are you okay?

Sorta.