I regret … I need a barbecue

There are times when I regret saying everything I say. I don’t know why I do it, nor do I believe I’m unique in this way, but sometimes I just can’t say anything nice at all. This bothers me. What bothers me more is that in some cases, my criticisms are limited to one or two people in particular; I may be the biggest sweetheart to everyone else, but for those one or two people, I’m the biggest arsehole.
I need a barbecue. I crave the taste of barbecued food, and I’m not sure I can wait for Spring. Specifically, I need a Fiesta 300 with the side burner. I know it’s not for everyone, but the thought of having such a decadent piece of cookware gets me all weak in the knees (and this specific model is on sale, since it’s off-season). Just imagine it: the warm Spring day has meandered to a cool, dusky Spring evening, and all my friends and I are out on my deck, grilling up some portabella mushroom burgers, and we’re all just chillin’ and drinking beer, while the soothing sounds of ambient techno music wash out from my computer lab. HUZZAH!

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