Ode to my Hobbit. (This is really about my manly bits)

There is just too much retardation in the world. Forget Trump, elections, North-Korea, what the fuck ever David Lynch's problem is, your lack of money and the slow dying of your soul.
I've written something bad to make everything better. Buy me beer. I'm bored and sober.


Concerning hobbits:*
My hobbit is an average hobbit, small and fairly stout. The hobbit enjoys pleasant surprises and attention, but if startled , it will go into hiding. It requires surprisingly little food, and too much alcohol will make it confused and render it useless.
The hobbit is fairly private and enjoys indoor activities, but is known to venture forth into the wild nature when alone and feels the need to breathe.
Most of all, it enjoys spending time in a hobbit-hole, where it feels most at home and can engage in all sorts of activities. Though somewhat short of stature and very modest, the hobbit will rise to most occasions, and performs great feats of endurance and bravery when put under pressure. Give him a magic ring, and there is no end to what he can achieve. Although the hobbit spends most of his active time in the hobbit-hole, he enjoys the occasional trip to Mordor.  



*Yes, I'm perfectly aware of the fact that I once referred to myself as a hobbit in a wedding a long time ago, and thusly calling future-me a cock. Which I'm fine with.