I hate kids.

I hate dogs that fart under your chair.

I hate going to a smorgasboard restaurant and no doggie bag.

I hate finishing the last beer in the pack. Even if it did take me two weeks to drink them all.

I hate a room being messed up again before I get a chance to finish it.

I hate kids (did I say that already?).

I hate swollen glands.

I hate having 10 different sensations happening on my body at once and none of them are pleasant.

I hate taking plates and cups and bloody cutlery out of the lounge twice a day.

I hate kids (is there an echo in here?).

I hate being the answering service for the Oldies upstairs.

I hate answering fullstop...


I really hate dogs farting under my chair.


Reading:Valley of the Dolls
Listening to:Steppenwolf

PS - I love the Moon, though.