Good Lord! I, too, hate.
Could this be the sort of intimate connection... visceral kinship, if you will... that I require to begin the process of healing all those decades of ulcerous embitterment that have shriveled my soul into a caustic fist of contempt for all of life and humanity?
Is this the feeling Joe Mama gets when he finds a McDonalds with a populated PlayLand? Is this... love?
Oh, that was Elisa? Never mind. That reminds me, though... I need to pluck my eyebrows. And my butt cleavage.
I read your two other posts and thought that the hate was dying and you were just going through the motions, but this post has me relieved. Not the same relief you get when all that government cheese and baloney you live on finally passes through, you broke-ass Don Magic Juan wannabe. Similar to the relief any woman feels when King Snarf finally takes the hint and goes away. It's good to have you back, Silky. You were away too long - I guess your trip to Africa for more green monkey AIDS took longer than expected.