This day marks 15 and a half months of imprisonment in this frustrating world, and this miserable fleshly shell.
I hate the fact that I cannot watch airplanes every waking breathing moment of my day, and I hate having my nappy changed, but most of all I hate my mother. She's such a bitch!
Take yesterday, for example. When I wished to be carried and elected to cast myself down on the pavement weeping brokenly to communicate this need she said: 'Either walk or ride in the buggy'. Stupid cow! She just doesn't understand! And then after she strapped me into that infernal wheeled contraption Against My Will and in clear defiance of my Curved Back of Rigor Mortis Posture she had the temerity to offer me a consolation biscuit!
A biscuit! The insult is really too much. I cast it down on the pavement in my rage. Pah! That is what I think of you and your BISCUIT, whore!
As if that wasn't enough, then she wouldn't let me drink from her bottle of ice tea! I couldn't believe the betrayal I was witnessing. I felt in that moment that all I had ever wanted in this world was that bottle and our separation crushed my spirit. My heart is as biscuit crumbs beneath a cruel buggy wheel of rejection.
I weep, I weep, I weep. Come, sweet dummy! I hasten to my sleep.