Every messenger, on every computer I own, has stalled.
This is not my fault; and though I stab it and kill it, and dig out curse words I haven't used in ten years; like cock-sucking-dick-weed-head; and hit it, I just can't seem to get a response which ends with my being online.
And I shortly have to go shopping.
But when I get back, I'll have another go at choking it to death. Promises.
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Mine live wrapped in a pink silk scarf in a purple velvet pouch with orange satin lining. Love the clashing.
They don't so much get used as taken out and looked at.
Besides, they're only supposed to work if they are inherited or given as a gift. Buying them for yourself is supposed to kill the mojo. Supposedly.
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This is not my fault; and though I stab it and kill it, and dig out curse words I haven't used in ten years; like cock-sucking-dick-weed-head; and hit it, I just can't seem to get a response which ends with my being online.
And I shortly have to go shopping.
But when I get back, I'll have another go at choking it to death. Promises.
Love love.
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