You know what I need? Here’s what I need.

I need someone—preferably some­one hairy and short, don’t ask me why—to break into my room every morn­ing and bound about, shout­ing “IT’S A BEAU­TI­FUL DAY, YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!” until I run scream­ing into the street. I could use that.


Comments are closed.