Have you ever been really excited for something? The start of a TV show, perhaps. You wait for it for ages. You get all your friends round to watch, but then after all the anticipation it doesn’t live up to the hype. That used to happen to me all the time, before I dealt with the problem by lowering my expectations. Strap in for a ride on the hyperbole trolley, kids. We’ll revisit some of those times together, like Scrooge McDuck in A Christmas Carol.
And yes, hyperbole rhymes with trolley. You illiterate swine.
I read a lot.
Some people say that to sound sophisticated. You know the type. They normally tell you that they don’t watch TV, and snort derisively while pushing their bifocals up to their brow when you let slip that you know who Holly Willoughby is.
“She’s on TV, you say? I only know her from Google Image Sear- uh. Something else.”
I am certainly not that type, although I do read compulsively. Books for sure, but also comics, magazines, cereal boxes, shampoo bottles, the warnings stamped on batteries, and the Reader’s Digest.