Uninspiring Holidays, Detailed
If you lived in Manitoba, you could at least call today Terry Fox Day. But then you would live in Manitoba.
If you lived in Manitoba, you could at least call today Terry Fox Day. But then you would live in Manitoba.
I once prepared a five-page document detailing all its quirks.
I do not, in life in general, scream—not on roller coasters, not in pain, not when Wet Leg encouraged the crowd to unleash bloodcurdling cries—but when Harry was on stage, I couldn’t hold back.
Life there doesn’t confuse me, but it’s no longer what I’m accustomed to. I’ve become a real city slicker.
In one corner, it imagines a boat.
There’s no escaping a year; we’re in it for the whole, well, year.
Vowel merges have led multiple people to mistake my tale about seeing the ferry with spotting a fairy or my ponderings about Frodo and Merry as Frodo and Mary.
Just before they leave my field of view, they look up.
I decide that I do believe that King Arthur sat here. It will make the climb worth it.
I’d time the queue so that the lyric “can’t figure out / how I’m gonna get through the next 10 minutes” played as we arrived at the pitch.