That bastard arch-nemisis toaster of mine is playing up again. It has managed to fuck me over consistantly for an entire fully consecutive month, by getting the toast stuck in its poorly designed japanese holdy-bits. I have to turn it off at the socket (because it stays on and keeps cooking if it doesn't pop up), turn it upside down, and shake out the toast.
You'd think I wouldn't bothered with going to all the effort to get myself pissed off in the name of a full stomach each morning, and would grill my toast instead. But I can't be bothered to use the grill. So instead I wrestle with my korean kackwarmer and leave home in a bad mood. And it fuckity fuck fucking pisses me off.
The deck on my riding mower is assed up again leaving big scalp marks along the yard. I didn't punch it to death, but I did turn it over with great force in the back yard.
A week ago. I caught Merlin letting his dog piss on a low hanging branch of my peach tree. I was pissed right off then but I'm finding peace today. I have a Wal-Mart sack that blew into my yard from his and I'm going to fill it with peaches from that branch and take them to him today.
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