I was born in Victorian Britain and have a very mirthful air about me.

So one day I was going about my merry business, being my jovial self.

When I’m walked a creature that saw what I was about, smoked at me and said ‘well aren’t you the gayest person I’ve met all day’.

I’m not sure how to feel tbh

The only thing he releases is fraudulent blabber and foul odor

Bit shallow innit?

Like one from abroad old enough to remember the old idea of America as something to aspire to:

It’s kind of like losing your older brother to a crippling drug addiction (almost literally). You know that he wasn’t always perfect, but he was always there. Nowadays you are never sure how he will act, sometimes showing signs of how he used to be, but more often bring a disappointment.