God I swore - like a trooper. I offed and blinded and turned the air blue picked my nose scratched my crotch and never once cared who saw me. Goddamn beetroot, beetroot fucking goddamn how I hate my nose.
How I hate my nose with its huge redundant nostrils, how I hate the hairs that grow within it. I hate the crock of it, how it hurts when I sneeze, goddamn beetroot, I could swear until I can swear no more.
God, you are a bastard for this. This and for inventing beetroot. In case you are interested, oh lord, oh almighty, all seeing thing you are, I’ve got beetroot juice on my shirt, my fresh clean white shirt. No, you’ll be too busy laughing. Goddamn beetroot, goddamn damn damn damn damn damn, damn.