Next person who sneezes on me, I will punch you in the face.

Now I'm no advocate for violence.

I've only been in one fight in my life. And that was when I was fourteen and someone said a snide comment so I pushed them lightly and then ran away.

On the rare occasions that anyone attempts to fight me, usually because I've said something stupid, which I previously thought was hilarious and they have overheard me, I usually try and win them over with my offhand charm and wit.

But there's one time where I would happily get up on someone's grill.

And that's when people forcibly spread their germs in my direction.

I'm no hypochondriac, but it's cold outside. I've already had roughly ONE MILLION colds this winter. I don't want another one. So please, do not come into my personal area and hack that cough or spray out that sneeze without any barrier between me and the green little bugs coming from your face.


Glad I could express that.

Fuck You, Snow

This morning I woke up with an anger unknown to most sensible human beings.

It was intense and has not been relieved all day. And that is because there is no way of removing the thing which has caused me such great sorrow. Because, dear readers, it's the weather.

Snow, in late March (yes I know, please do not get me started) has decided to rock up and spray its white shit all over my crib, my car; even my cat if it stands still for more than twenty seconds.

And you know what? I'm taking a stand.

I refuse to enjoy this snow. This snow will hold no magic or wonder for me.

This snow will not pressurise me with its softness to sit in it and make angelic shapes.

This snow will not cause me to spend hours battling with the elements to make a snowman which looks nothing like an actual human being.

This snow will not be 'pretty, lovely' or 'just super!'

This snow will be disgusting, annoying and plain pointless.





So, with that, all I have left to say is: 

Fuck you snow, fuck you.