Wednesday follow-up, in letter form

Dear life: I apologise for mocking your lack of action-movie excitement. I get your point.

That is to say, today's baseball game was Jesus H. Tap-dancing Christ fucking awesome. I'll be damned if it wasn't the best game I've ever had the pleasure of attending. I'd go on, but I've been foaming at the mouth about it for long enough, and I need to sleep sometime.

Dear world: please stop using the verb "grow" in a transitive fashion. You sound like a bad internet advertisement, and it is driving me crazy.

Edit to clarify: you have my permission to grow a garden, a tulip, a beard and/or a moustache, a third leg, et cetera. However, you are hereby forbidden from growing assets, economies, businesses, or anything else that is not a living thing.

That is all.