Gilgamesh is one of the oldest known works of literature, and I'm not going to spoil it for you; there's a link to the poem in the video info, but suffice it to say that in the showdown between country and city, the city wins.

Otherwise reluctant voters may deliberately spoil or waste their votes.

You spoil the situation for yourself.

I hate to spoil your golf game, but...

Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. As  they sat grouped about their spoil, in the scanty  

If we find ourselves in a relationship, we will assiduously practice the arts of what psychologists call distance management. When the chance of reaching a truly happy state appears, we'll subtly discover ways to introduce a chasm. We'll have an argument, spoil a birthday, ruin a holiday. We'll find we have to do a lot of work for an upcoming exam or presentation, that our gang of friends needs us to be somewhere else, that we forgot to return the credit card or tax bill, that our appearance requires a lot of our attention or that we like to flirt with a stranger at a party who suddenly seems very attractive indeed. In both tiny and large ways, we'll know just how to lower the mood, scupper a bond and destroy trust. Perhaps not enough to end a relationship completely, but certainly enough to worry our partner sufficiently as to our solidity that we can be privately sure things will never truly fly. Friends may commiserate with us on our so-called bad luck. Psychologists will note our superlative skill at romantic sabotage. With this to sound a bit like us, compassion is required. We should reflect back on our pasts and wonder at the connection between our fractured bonds with parental figures and our disrupted adult attachments. We aren't like this because we're wicked, we've just been very badly hurt. Once we understand how our skill at independence was acquired, we'll be in a better position to see that it has in reality outlived its rationale. We may still feel immensely apprehensive at the prospect of contentment, but we may finally be able to admit that we are, first and foremost, acting out of fear. Rather than dismissing our partners, we may stick closer to a much more awkward truth – that we're tempted to draw away from them because we're immensely scared that they might finally be in a position to make us very happy – and that simply nothing so unutterably and boundlessly frightening has ever happened to us before.

Things end up being not as they seem, of course, and trust us when we tell you that we just can't spoil the ending of The Baby.

And judged on this basis, many of us have to admit, in the silence of our minds, that we're not really doing very well. There's so much that every year, and perhaps almost every day, comes along to spoil our ambitions. There's a power struggle at the office, there's a problem in our families, our friends feel superficial or disengaged, our anxieties don't abate and our relationships are scratchy or distant. Our difficulties generate a basic layer of misery, but then a secondary layer is swiftly added to it, caused by an underlying sense that our unhappiness represents a fundamental violation of life's true purpose. Not only are we unhappy, we are unhappy that we are unhappy, in the light of our tightly held belief in the possibility of a state of enduring satisfaction. We're both sad and crushed that we have failed at the single most important goal open to all sane and ambitious humans.

This does not spoil my visit though.

It barely even count Yeah, and I embarrassed myself in front of every no you made people notice you enjoy it don't spoil it I Mean, I guess it was pretty badass having a black eye for a day zero clumps I'm a genius.