Ricky Granite Is Going To Be Very Sorry

I am ANGRY. I want everyone to know that. I am extremely, very, very angry right now and I am not going to apologize for it -- I am not -- well, maybe a little, sorry, I did not mean to shout like that, but I AM SHOUTING AND I MEAN IT.

I lost the big metal one chance to I Am a Tickler. On the big night. The main one. Do you have any idea how that feels?! I had my juice box ready and everything. Momma did not even call afterward. Not once. I sat by the phone for forty-five minutes and I identified six different sparrow species by their feet and she still did not call.

And then Cold Howler! The tag one! Gone! Both of them, poof, like a model airplane when you glue the wrong wing on and the whole thing just -- it falls. It just falls. Sorry. I'm sorry about that image. I am not sorry. Yes I am.

Ricky Granite, you have been saying things. Big, loud, granite-y things. You think I am small and scared and that I have never once been the kind of person who wins in the squared place -- and maybe right now that is technically a little bit accurate -- but I have charted every single inch of my backyard and I assure you the map does NOT end well for you, Ricky, it does not?