Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Hey, Internet! Screw You & My Wagon Master Skills

With as much fanfare as it could have my Internet decided that it was going to get back with it’s whorish boyfriend and abandon me to wonder why it would take off again with such a whore that doesn’t care for its feelings nearly as much as I do or who loves it for who it is and desperately wants it back because sometimes it’s hard just to be able to watch television or have normal, relationship building conversation with your boyfriend because Facebook and YouTube is just a bit more cool and entertaining.
Not having the Internet working properly is a torture that only the Amish should feel. Or Pioneers who travelled across the country in a wagon and routinely died of pooping too much, or rattle snakes, or wandering off into the woods and dying, or since they get sick all the time and waste precious medicine they were denied medicine and then died and the survivors, after seeing no hope of ever reaching their destination and salvation, decided it’d only be kind enough to drastically eat each other to get away from the cruel wagon master that I happen to be.
It’s almost like my Internet is telling me to go outside and it makes me all “Go fuck yourself Internet. I go outside all the dang time and you know what happens when I go out? I. Have. To. Take. The. Dog! And every time I take him outside he decides to do something super assholish. Remember, Internet, when he decided he was going to smear his own crap on the wall outside the vets because he didn’t want to poop like a normal dog on the ground but that he was going to press his butt against the brick until it made a mess? Or how about the time he got jealous I was petting two other dogs and the only way he could show the dogs that I belonged to him was to pee on the ground and then kick that dirt all over my legs only to show those dogs what’s-what?”
So you know what I’ve got to say to you Internet who is forcing me to spend more time with my boyfriend and asshole of a dog?
Fuck you, I hope you get Super Crabs from your whorish boyfriend who will only dump you like stinky tuna underwear once he gets bored of you.

1 comment:

  1. Its just not fun when the internet tries to play games with us. Also, I'm still waiting for my so called fairy hand job...


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