Spain is gain, or “No Spain No Gain”. It’s something like that, and it will come back to me at some point.
My mind keeps popping in the notion that this is somehow a new problem, a by-product of our new, over-connected technological age. But that’s nonsense.
It’s a common misconception that not washing hyper frequently makes a person smell, and it’s balls.
I have just bought sixteen litres of highly caffeinated “Energy Drink”. It will arrive the day after tomorrow. I got a really good deal for it, thankfully.
Ah, parenthood: it’s great isn’t it? Except for those times when it isn’t quite.
This is about the bad times: the good times can speak for themselves.
The whole United Kingdom is far too warm, and boy we are complaining about it. It’s not like we don’t like hot weather, it’s just that we don’t want to live in it.
Involuntary schemes; awash with the spite of a thousand millennia. Now I see the way I am heading, I’m fine.