It's that time of year again, when Stupidstition gets the better of men and women - who should know better - and rallies them into a burning frenzy.
I pity the environment, but maybe even more so, I pity me. Oh! think of the smoky horror that assaults my senses.
But there is little that can be done, except to shut the windows. That's the smokey remedy then.
I pity the environment, but maybe even more so, I pity me. Oh! think of the smoky horror that assaults my senses.
But there is little that can be done, except to shut the windows. That's the smokey remedy then.
Welcome, World, to September.
(This Individual realises most pity-parties are lame. But he would ask you to consider the Smoky Horror, and be entirely honest: "Don't you pity yourself too?" If you do, then join the fun. If you don't, he requests you save your judgement for someone who bothers. That, and a nasal checkup.)
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