For context, Homecoming is this week for my high school.
Every year, each grade makes a float for a parade thingy.
I tried to work on the float with two sentient humans and a mindless hoard of brain-dead offal. To clear my mind of their insipid monkeying, I must vent to all of you.
You know why I need to vent so badly?
Because a crowd of ignominious wastrels have cruelly laid siege to my mind's bastion of engineering order. The ideas and plans whirling majestically through the surreal fantasyscape of my think-pan have been PUT TO THE SWORD by these FOOLISH FOOLS. LEGIONS OF DODDERING CRETINS set out this day with but one purpose: to DISPLAY in all of it's CREPUSCULAR MENACE the true extent of HUMAN INCOMPETENCE. THE WOODEN BEAMS CAREFULLY LAID BY THOSE WHO CAME BEFORE THEM HAVE BEEN SAVAGED BY THEIR IGNORANCE OF SIMPLE MECHANICS. THEIR BLASPHEMOUS, EXCREMENT-LIKE CREATIONS HAVE CAUSED THE DREADED BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH IN MY HUMBLE MIND. AND WHEN THEIR RAPE AND PILLAGE CEASES, I SHALL LANGUISH IN THE BILIOUS KNOWLEDGE THAT, WITH SIMPLE FORESIGHT, THE TOIL OF HAMMERS AND POWER TOOLS COULD BE LAID LOW IN THE MINUTES LONG PAST BY. THE KNOWLEDGE THAT, HAD THOSE LOBOTOMIZED MILK DRINKERS HALTED THEIR ASININE LABORS THIS DAY, ACTUAL PLANS COULD HAVE BEEN LAID; THAT THE TRIUMVIRATE OF INTELLECTS MIGHT HAVE PREVAILED AGAINST THE TIDES OF IDIOCY TO BRING A CREATION OF BEAUTY TO THIS DRAB HOMECOMING FLOAT. AND WITH THAT CURSE, THAT DREADFUL, DREADFUL MEMORY OF THE SOUND OF HAMMERS AND NAILS, I MUST REST MY WEARY MIND, WHICH CRIES OUT; "MORONS! DISSEMBLE NO MORE! I SPEAK THE TRUTH! -- TEAR UP THE PLANKS! -- HERE, HERE! --THIS IS THE HOLE THAT YOUR BRAINS CRAWLED INTO AND DIED!"
Fwoo. That was strangely cathartic. As it turns out, trying to write like an archaic Andrew Hussie is really distracting from irritations.