I would tell you a fearful tale as is traditional of this time but the night is cold, the jars of ale have run dry, I am taken with boredom and my mind wanders to memories of things bygone. Permit me then, to tell you a different kind of story, one based on both truth and legend and born of the evil that lives in the hearts of men. He was seized bodily, beaten violently and dragged to the .

Journal Of A Girl With Dark Humour. This year was a mix of the good, the bad and the ugly but. Every year I say this, and every year it gets truer. Even through all the bad. As usual I will tell you about my year month by month. Wah you tryna do bruv, you want me to fail? Get thee behind me, Satan.