I've spent most of my life independently avoiding labels, but I've come to the firm conclusion that I'm a Happicon. I just can't be miserable all day. I remember watching my grandpop and a few of his friends sitting around complaining about how America and society had gone down the toilet. Just didn't seem like the way I wanted to go through life...but I have to admit, a lot of people around here bring back good memories of him.
I had my ultimate laugh last night though. I brought up the subject of "New England Clam Chowder" and one of the borderbots was actually able to link illegals into it.
Now that is world class misery.
She's mildly attractive, but she doesn't do it for me. As mentioned earlier, I do like boobs and hers don't cut it for me. There's also something about her voice that gives me the creeps.
Oh, and Manhattan clam chowder is in every way superior to New England. Commie.