Don't piss in my skittles.

Okay. So we've all the heard the story about how you strangled a cloud. Hell. I've sent a few off, myself, but this here is my cloud, you heartless bitch, and these here skittles are my skittles, and will not be pissed in by you or any other family member ever again.

And as far as the rest of the family is concerned, you take the cake. You are the culinary masterpiece of screwloose bullshit. I've tried harder than with anyone else, to reach out to you. Aknowledge, the only time I lied was after you had repeatedly denied me from telling the truth!

Well, I hope you're happy, now! I'm done. Advection will push me until the only thing I remember is the angry little girl back in Connecticut. My blood flows counterclockwise in the north and never makes the same mistakes twice.