Mine is in defrosting my toes after a long meander West to see some OG clients. Smell of the peat I bundled away in the back of the hearse ( I drive a hearse now. Hearses are cool) snap, crackling away under that hearth...spiced pumpkin soup...new killer work heels.
Unhappiness is a dreadful thing and often us well-tilted individuals do forget, how lovely it is to pay to f:-) and to be paid to f:-) in ones own country.
And to think of some skeleton lifed, working away from their husbands(or wives), their favourite bar, their favourite hairdresser and racially homogeneous capital cities. Though it seems like pity, it's really not. Just spare a thought for them salty ass cheap motherfucking Thots.