(no subject)
I hate my car. It can never just cooperate. No. Even when I'm trying to do something nice for it like make it faster. Shitbox can never just say "oh, fuckin sweet, you're making me better, thanks kevin, I'll make sure everything goes as planned" no. Some cars might be easy to work on, but not you, Shitbox. It doesn't matter what I'm doing, things can never fit quite right, because that would make too much fuckin sense, wouldn't it? "What's that? Between the engine and the firewall? Fuck NO, it won't fit there, because that would make too much fucking sense, you'd get too great a sense of satisfaction if everything went that smoothly" Well you know what, Shitbox? Once your pistons melt because of you being a stubborn son of a bitch, I'm parting you out and buying something with lots of aftermarket support. Like an early 90's mustang, or a mitsubishi eclipse, or a honda. No, not a honda, I lied. I don't hate you THAT much. Seriously though, I'm fucking tired of this shit. Just knock it off, go together like you're supposed to, and let's be friends again.
I'm pretty sure this is a sign of dementia.
I'm pretty sure this is a sign of dementia.