I am lodging a formal fucking complaint that I can’t be expected to stay sane when the continuity drive is fucked.
I might have to get the washing repair repair man in, the tumble dryer is fucked too.
In fact I have to clean the drains tomorrow because they are fucked. And stink.
I seriously want a normal life. Just ordinary will do me fine for a while. Give me a break,
Im fucked, the planets fucked, everyone is fucked, totally fucked and now the North Star is fucked. In the wrong fucking place altogether.
Fucking fucked. Now I will have to start working out where I am all over again. Fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.... and Fuck. What was all that Fucking about with the commutation for then?
Oh the leap,year? Great. How high do you think we can leap then, or how far, it’s all fucking relative to where we are not. Blast. Fucking bran dead.
What was I supposed to work it out for if you were going to move the fucking planet for anyway?
Well there you Go, God moves us in Mysterious ways!
Note to self don’t make bread sticks at 7am on Sundays. Fucking nightmare in the dough department.
The yeast says it’s not going to prove anything on Sundays. It is having a day off. Unless I am making bread for the Church Friends, then it will give me special dispensation if I soak the wholewheat flour and feed the yeast before midnight on Saturday. Otherwise fuck off and get a day off yourself!
I have got hysterical laughter going on, My Husband thinks I have lost the fucking plot again, and it’s time for bed. Note to self.... wake up tomorrow.
I might have to get the washing repair repair man in, the tumble dryer is fucked too.
In fact I have to clean the drains tomorrow because they are fucked. And stink.
I seriously want a normal life. Just ordinary will do me fine for a while. Give me a break,
Im fucked, the planets fucked, everyone is fucked, totally fucked and now the North Star is fucked. In the wrong fucking place altogether.
Fucking fucked. Now I will have to start working out where I am all over again. Fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.... and Fuck. What was all that Fucking about with the commutation for then?
Oh the leap,year? Great. How high do you think we can leap then, or how far, it’s all fucking relative to where we are not. Blast. Fucking bran dead.
What was I supposed to work it out for if you were going to move the fucking planet for anyway?
Well there you Go, God moves us in Mysterious ways!
Note to self don’t make bread sticks at 7am on Sundays. Fucking nightmare in the dough department.
The yeast says it’s not going to prove anything on Sundays. It is having a day off. Unless I am making bread for the Church Friends, then it will give me special dispensation if I soak the wholewheat flour and feed the yeast before midnight on Saturday. Otherwise fuck off and get a day off yourself!
I have got hysterical laughter going on, My Husband thinks I have lost the fucking plot again, and it’s time for bed. Note to self.... wake up tomorrow.
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