I hate loathe every land agent in our Pennsic Block that is not from the East.
People from the East are reasonable, and try to compromise. These other people are all 'me me me' and always seem fearful that anything we have is better than anything they have, even by a slim margin.
If I survive the next seven days without completely blowing up on someone (probably an innocent bystander) it will be a miracle.
Also, Magnetic Fields is rapidly becoming one of my fave bands -- I have to share these song lyrics with you:
I wish I had an evil twin, running round doing people in.
I wish I had a very bad and evil twin to do my will, to cull and conquer, cut and kill,
just like I would if I weren't good and if I knew where to begin.
Down and down he'd go: how low, no one would know.
Sometimes the good life wears thin.
I wish I had an evil twin.
My evil twin would lie and steal, and he would stink of sex appeal.
All men would writhe beneath his scythe.
He'd send the pretty ones to me and they would think that I was he.
I'd hurt them, and I'd go scott-free.
I'd get no blame and feel no shame, cause evil's not my cup of tea.
Down and down he'd go: how low, I would not need to know.
All my life there should have been an evil twin.
People from the East are reasonable, and try to compromise. These other people are all 'me me me' and always seem fearful that anything we have is better than anything they have, even by a slim margin.
If I survive the next seven days without completely blowing up on someone (probably an innocent bystander) it will be a miracle.
Also, Magnetic Fields is rapidly becoming one of my fave bands -- I have to share these song lyrics with you:
I wish I had an evil twin, running round doing people in.
I wish I had a very bad and evil twin to do my will, to cull and conquer, cut and kill,
just like I would if I weren't good and if I knew where to begin.
Down and down he'd go: how low, no one would know.
Sometimes the good life wears thin.
I wish I had an evil twin.
My evil twin would lie and steal, and he would stink of sex appeal.
All men would writhe beneath his scythe.
He'd send the pretty ones to me and they would think that I was he.
I'd hurt them, and I'd go scott-free.
I'd get no blame and feel no shame, cause evil's not my cup of tea.
Down and down he'd go: how low, I would not need to know.
All my life there should have been an evil twin.