Lucille Ball once said “Well, I hope you’re satisfied!” in an episode of ‘I Love Lucy’. It was when Leetle Reeky went finally to Kin-der-garden. And, like Loo-SEE feared, he’d “catch” something nasty from the other kids, he indeed got a cold, or, got sick.
It went COLD on us. But really, only just at night. During the day, it’s warm still and INCREDIBLY dry. And my lips are parched and I’ve had enough of it, my self. For me, I want water and sex and I have had only liquid refreshment. I’m screaming and yelling at inanimate objects, and I’m wishing I had purchased another bottle of beer. Wish I’d bought something a bit more in the alcohol percentile. There’s always tomorrow. And, you know, damn, there’s next weekend. [OH! I SO want my life LONG over by then. Asleep. Dead. Gone.] What in HELL IS every one doing? Don’t give a rat’s arse. It’s SO completely impossible to create a t-shirt of what I want from a photo. I can only it seems do it from the desktop but my pc is a piece of shit. And some thing keeps telling me NOT buying the ASUS from Amazon is my best option. What am I doing? I’m yelling and screaming at the screen…I don’t know who in HELL these idiots are who write with predictive text. How in the hell do they write with ANY individuality at all? They’re not fucking human!
And with technology: NO LOGIC! I just spent 3 and a half minutes SCREAMING at my GODDAMN phone for fucking arbitrarily pasting a link to Ralph Steadman dot com when I was only typing the letters predictive text. I tell you, it was MADDENING!!!!
And I’m STILL fucking screaming! Pressing one key for a letter and it pastes in a link! What in the fuck is that all about?