All my black t-shirts were dirty.

it is still very disconcerting to be told in all casualness that I don't like so-and-so. it would not be only the dozenth time i was mislabeled, or rumoured to detest an aquaintance for whom i claim a faint affection towards. how much neater my life would be, if so-and-so were to pluck up the courage and confront me with the rumour, so that i can tell you straight up my undiluted opinions of idle, harmful gossips and what i wish they'd do with a pack of hungry rats and a customised cage around their fucking privates.

oh yeah. mm hmm. that does make me feel better.