“Hey! This is MY playground. These are MY swings. That’s MY climbing pyramid. And that’s MY springy elephant! THAT’S MY SPRINGY ELEPHANT! You crusty knob-end. Bog off! Leave this playground to the king of playtime! … Mmmm, they’re all mine…. I need a push. (whining pathetically) I can’t swing without a push. PUSH ME! Where is everyone? Bastards. (muttering bitterly) This is MY playground.”
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STM is his own worst enemy.
My mild-mannered English husband Adam lives quite a colorful existence in his dreams. Having benefited from hours of delight at his dead-of-night musings, I thought it only fair to share them with the world.
