Dear Clouds,

Dear Clouds,

You serve a single purpose: you loosely form into the shape of abnormally large fluffy animals and thus give children fodder to annoy adults. “Look! That cloud looks like a bunny!” No, it fucking well does not, you stupid child, it fucking looks like a fucking cloud.

Being constantly surrounded by you, clouds, is terribly depressing and demoralising; a bit like being oppressed by that grey lint shit you pull out of the back of your clothes dryers. It is fairly innocuous stuff, but if a person had to look at it all day, they’d probably go mad and cut out their own eyeballs. And then, if they were really truly mad, they’d feed them to their goldfish or something.

I think that, in years to come, very important scientific research is going to find a correlation between clouds and murder/cancer/Camden/other very very bad things, and there will be a call to ban clouds. I say we start now.

Be gone damned clouds,
Munky