I guess the price of all your soulless reality TV programs is that you were never able to see what I was really up to.
I've got a permanent record of every time you've mentioned Kim Kardashian to me with your stupid gleaming smile.
I just thought you'd like to know that today, I'm smiling too.
Prime cuts and cancelled appointments.
Pasteurised misfires, lean and matured.
As for your fucking garden, I've taken good care to kill everything. Remnants tossed up in a ham and cheese salad in remembrance of when you did not imitate your carrots.

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