There is a tree near my house, that has probably been there for years, just doing its tree thing, watching patiently as families come and go, empires rise and fall, and Isengard is flooded. I'm sure it's a beautiful tree, cheerfully trading carbon dioxide for oxygen, providing shade, and most likely supporting several birds and squirrels. It's a lovely tree, I'm sure ... but I hate that motherfucker because I am super allergic to whatever pollen or voodoo or evil waves of itching sneezing bullshit it emits. I've seen doctors and witch doctors and oracles and psychics* about it, and all anyone's been able to do for me is suggest I take an antihistimine (Oh? Really? Thanks, medical professionals! I never would have thought of that on my own!) and ... well, that's just about all I can do, so just pay the receptionist on your way out, Wil.
His written word and my inner monologue? They match. All I could think reading that is that it sounds exactly like something I would say. And I couldn't stop laughing.
Because I think I am the funniest person on the planet. It's really true.
I slept from 7 pm until 4 am and now it is 8 am and I can't sleep any more :| Stupid WEIRD BODY SLEEP CLOCK VIRUS THING! But I wrote a bunch. Made me happy :D