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I was cupping my balls just before and looking around at my room. Honestly, my room has never been this messy. I'd say, "bless this mess," but I'd rather damn it to Hell. I don't even know where to fucking start. Not only is there so much stuff to clean, but there's even more stuff to clean under that stuff. I have way too many stuff. I haven't eased myself into bed in months; there's a mountain of clothes and assholes in the way. I have to fucking pole vault into bed. Do you know how humiliating that is?
My printer is fucked. It's a piece of shit and it's broken, goddamit. All it's doing is staring at me, taunting me, saying, "I'm taking up a good cubic foot of space, and you're too much of a fat, lazy bastard to do anything about it. You make me sick. And I'm a fucking printer!" I tried printing something out a few weeks ago and it pretty much just went kaput. It's an HP DeskJet 895Cse, for you information. The CSE stands for Can't sDo Enything.
Then I got this fucking entertainment stand to my left with nothing on it but garbage. That's not very entertaining at all. It's just the opposite. It's antonymous with entertaining. It's fucking bullshit is what it is.
And this fucking desk that I waste my time at. This fucking piece of shit. This desk disgusts me. I loathe and abhor it. All I want to do is set it on fire. And that's all I want to do. Take everything off it, clear out the drawers, douse it with gasoline, and set it on fire. Probably dance around it too. I was thinking about going to Ikea to look at new desks, but what the fuck? That would involve getting in my car, driving to Ikea, looking at desks, possibly buying one, and driving home. What's more is, if my laziness is any indicator of motivation to assemble furniture, I'll just leave it in its stupid box and put up with the shit my current desk gives me.
I mean, I'd cup my balls and look at the mess again, but every time I do that, it seems messier than the time before. Exponentially messier. It's perpetual.
Bless this mess indeed, fuckers.
My printer is fucked. It's a piece of shit and it's broken, goddamit. All it's doing is staring at me, taunting me, saying, "I'm taking up a good cubic foot of space, and you're too much of a fat, lazy bastard to do anything about it. You make me sick. And I'm a fucking printer!" I tried printing something out a few weeks ago and it pretty much just went kaput. It's an HP DeskJet 895Cse, for you information. The CSE stands for Can't sDo Enything.
Then I got this fucking entertainment stand to my left with nothing on it but garbage. That's not very entertaining at all. It's just the opposite. It's antonymous with entertaining. It's fucking bullshit is what it is.
And this fucking desk that I waste my time at. This fucking piece of shit. This desk disgusts me. I loathe and abhor it. All I want to do is set it on fire. And that's all I want to do. Take everything off it, clear out the drawers, douse it with gasoline, and set it on fire. Probably dance around it too. I was thinking about going to Ikea to look at new desks, but what the fuck? That would involve getting in my car, driving to Ikea, looking at desks, possibly buying one, and driving home. What's more is, if my laziness is any indicator of motivation to assemble furniture, I'll just leave it in its stupid box and put up with the shit my current desk gives me.
I mean, I'd cup my balls and look at the mess again, but every time I do that, it seems messier than the time before. Exponentially messier. It's perpetual.
Bless this mess indeed, fuckers.
