You know what really burns my biscuits? Unnecessary disagreement. Those sour bum puckers that need to challenge every mundane statement that crosses their ears. It could be the weather or nothing or everything, they just feel this incessant need to have a rebuttal to anything ever uttered. It’s like they’re missing that, oh so important, human element that allows one to let information pass from one ear and out the other, processing instantaneously what actually requires a response. These half formed humanoids, never fail to trigger my eye roll mechanism along with wondering where a good plague is when you need one. Burnt biscuits never killed anyone but bubonic sounds bucolic to me.