Of all the sick twisted tricks of fate.
Yahoo! Messenger has gypped me. Thrice, I have been messaged by members on my friends list accusing me of LYING about the fact that I was VERY MUCH mobile. They're all like, "I don't believe you're really mobile." I don't know how the hell the $#(*$**( thing works, aryt? All I know is that I AM very much mobile. I only do it for the heck of it, it's not like anyone who URGENTLY needs me would actually use Yahoo Messenger to inform me of things. Shyeeeeah Right. No effing way.
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"We're still waiting...and shall continue to wait. When the scenery gets too drab and the action too slow, we'll call each other names and swear to part forever - but then, there is no place to go!" - San Quentin News, Nov. 28, 1957
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Sick, tired and sleepless indeed.
I stayed up till five thirty this morning doing this stupid LJ crap, because you know what? I had nothing better to do. It's a crock, to be stuck at home listening to contradicting statements from your parents who mean well but who you are completely nauseated with because they're around ALL THE frigging time.
I have said it before and I will say it again - I LOVE them, but they're driving me BONKERS! Sometimes you just want to say something like, stop meddling in my business you nauseating presence, and go deal with your own shiznit. Except perhaps in a more colorful, direct and less confusing manner.
It's REALLY making me sick, because I can't deal with it by making loud, angry curses. One curse word, you know, said out loud in a uniquely satisfying way, will be enough to ease all that. But then it starts over again. And I know they mean well, and I love them to bits, I really do, but because they're both CRAZY hormonal and aging, and I'm irritable, bored and aggravated -- the combination is completely combustive. What is a person to do?