I held a baby today for the first time in years. I've been afraid for the longest time that the first baby in my arms would soon be on the news with me as a baby dropper. PMITA sentencing to follow.
No dropping today. Maybe I was just overreacting. It's sort of like how I'm afraid to go to funerals because I am worried that I will just start laughing for no reason other than you're really not supposed to.
This could be a sign I need therapy.
In other news, I have this friend. Let's call her Josephine. She was into this guy - let's call him Joe. Things happened and Joe gave her the impression that he was into her, too. The thing is, I don't think he really was. And not only that but from the non-verbal communication I have gotten from Josephine, Joe is not even close to deserving her love or affection.
Some of the things Josephine has said recently have made me want to seek out Joe and put vast quantities of marmite in all his peanut butter. You know, really stick it to him. Tell him that if he isn't willing to make any sacrifice for the person he wants, then he clearly doesn't want her. My knee to the patch of flesh where your bollocks should be, Joe. Don't mess with Josephine. You will have marmitey peanut butter.