Everything English Is The Enemy

I get angry sometimes.

It might be getting worse, perhaps because I have spent so much time by myself for the past few years that my filter no longer works as well as it used to. And yes, not managing to get past the BBC’s new geolocation defenses and thus missing Eurovision was an annoyance. But I don’t really think it should have got me so worked up that I disappeared into the garage and tore cardboard boxes apart until I calmed down by virtue of being exhausted.

(the good news is that now I’m living in Cincinnati instead of Durham, I was soon joined by a friend and explored some more of the city. So that is an improvement!)

It has been a week. I’d say I’m done with it, but tomorrow is already attempting to bash through before midnight.

Is there any time where Mr. Punch isn’t terrifying?