It’s officially Festivus. I have my pole up, and we’ve set aside an area for the feats of strength later. But it doesn’t truly begin until we do The Airing Of Grievances.
So, let’s start.
You, I don’t like the way you sniff too much, and the way your fat face goes wonky when you smile. And your eyes are too small. What’s more, your blinkered belief that you can structure a sentence, and string out a plot is nothing but self-delusion. And why you insist on trying to write a blog every day is beyond me. You’re a giant lump of congealed snot of the bumface of humanity.
*puts mirror down*
Now, I’m off to wrestle a pig.
