I have implied in posts several times before that I hail from Pluto. Try not to laugh. It's a touchy subject, having your planet demoted to "dwarf" status. What exactly does that entail? Do a bunch of 3-piece suits with all the appropriate paperwork show up on your planet one day and tell you to get off? Are we suddenly represented by less Members of Solar Parliament? Is our garbage collection demoted to a bi-weekly schedule? Surely nobody thought of these questions when the decision was put forth to arbitrarily downsize the number of planets in the solar system.

But we Plutonians are used to such hardship. You think Canadian winters are harsh? Russian? Don't make me laugh. On Pluto in winter, the atmosphere freezes and falls to the ground. That's about as much suck as you can get. Literally; around that time of year, you have little choice but to get on your hands and knees and suck the ground to breathe. Let me remind you at this time that Plutonian winter lasts 124 Earth years. If you're born during the wrong season on Pluto, well, you're pretty much boned.

I confess I've done much complaining; perhaps you now wonder if Pluto is an outright shithole. But it's not all bad, friend. For example, gamers there are respected as legitimate athletes. We've introduced the concept here on Earth, but so far it's only really taken flight in South Korea.

But in the end, I suppose - begrudgingly - that I am here, on Earth, today. If I am so proud of my home, then why would I be here? It's quite simple: tax evasion.

Best Wishes from the Plutonian Imperiate.