Where is one of those punching clown things when you need one?

[primroseburrows]

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety Fuck.

*throws things just to hear them break*

I could write a rant, but I don't bloody feel like it. And what the hell good would it do? Not a godsdamned bit, that's what.



Oh, and Canada? I am SO not your friend right now. Go to your room. We'll talk later when I can form complete, non-expletive sentences.

*takes iPod, sits out on porch for a while*

ETA: Of course the bloody link to the Edmonton Journal doesn't work.

*tries one that does, goes outside*

Comments

[primroseburrows.livejournal.com]

Who knows, maybe he's one of us. *looks around surreptitiously*

Mr. Writer Guy is clearly compensating.