06 December 2006

p d a

I encountered a large park today. Ample quantities of green grass and benches encircled a gigantic, gaudy memorial to "Confraternity" and "Victory."

Even more torturous to the senses was the throng of lovers—whether entwined or piled one atop the other—violently swapping spit. They were like garden gnomes going about their sinister business and I very much wanted to do as Mrs. Weasley does and pull them up by their hair and toss them far and away, hopefully, into oncoming traffic.

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