Because you're so angry, because you're so happy, because you've got his mischievous little itch, because you're barely able to get up with the weight of it, because you want sweet revenge, because you want to shake the contents of the bottle, because you think it's quite funny, because you've lost a bit of your sanity, because someone should know already, because there are some bushes you can hide under after you're done.
You want to post those recent photos, you want to write down the details, you want to mention a name or two.
But because you're so polite, because you'd get half your butt fried if you did, because you're lazy, because you're not impulsive, because you're feeling a bit boring and because you're playing it safe, you don't.
You just sit and pretend you don't know while the rest of the world buys the show.
I'm just in one of those strange moods--take a break from work and the mind tends to explore very impish scenarios, "what would happen if I popped this balloon." You know what they say, an idle mind is the devil's workshop and somewhere sitting on my shoulder is a mini-me telling me to use germicidal soap and get back to my regularly scheduled task. (If Jack Sparrow can have them, so can I).
