The Swiss Will Pay for Their Sins
I have a crossword-puzzle-a-day calendar, and I'm several days behind in my crossword solving. To make matters worse, I have decided that I hate my pink sweater, and that I'll never wear it again. I considered wrapping my undone January puzzles in my sweater and hurling my sweater out of a speeding Buick on the interstate, but this seems unduly psychotic. I don't have a Buick, and nobody cares about my neglected puzzles and my sub-par sweaters; these problems are my own problems, my "emotional baggage," if you will.
The only sensible thing to do with this emotional baggage is to carry it with me and allow it to spoil all of my future relationships, whether they are familial, romantic, parent/teacher, or tourist/Europe. Especially tourist/Europe. I intend to knock some skulls together in Bern. Nothing riles me like a neutral nation.
The only sensible thing to do with this emotional baggage is to carry it with me and allow it to spoil all of my future relationships, whether they are familial, romantic, parent/teacher, or tourist/Europe. Especially tourist/Europe. I intend to knock some skulls together in Bern. Nothing riles me like a neutral nation.
3 Comments:
Dear Esther,
How did you get to be such a funny person? I happened upon your blog by accident and I can't wait to link to your very insightful blog from my very boring one. I hope that my boringness does not offend your genius.
Cheers!
She's really sick of the Swiss. She don't like 'em.
Neutral ninnies, boring bankers. Icky yucky stinky stupid Switzerland.
Oh yeah, his name is Ed. He'd like to see the Swiss dead.
The V-neck pink sweater? I liked that one. I think you look good in it. Especially when you pull back your hair. I like to think about you in that sweater, with your hair pulled back and you're wearing a short Catholic-school-girl-type skirt and you're holding a can of WD-40 and...
...I've said too much.
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