I was right. A bunch of clowns with the bedside manner of 1) a dead trout 2) a rabid canine. I can't believe I'm saying this, but -- I'd really rather that Siri graduate quick. These two seem about as capable as your run-of-the-mill charlatan.

I can't explain it, but I have a feeling that I'm going to be very cross soon.

To-do:

+ Tell Siri off for calling me a prize specimen (thanks a lot, you normality-starved hippie!)
+ Get back at father
+ $@£%"ing smack Argilla