Current mood:	royally pissed
Current music:	'Please Don't Touch', Motorhead and Girlschool

Cotton Eye Joe, where ya'll at, boy?!
So, perhaps you're wondering why you haven't seen me around. Because I'm beset on all sides by asshats would be one possible reason, asshats with Freemasons for fathers and Illuminati for in-laws, whose sinful perversions revolve entirely around making my hitherto enjoyable life a neverending torrent of annoyance and misery. Let's recap.

1.) BT Broadband. Asshats.
2.) McDonald's. Asshats.
3.) England. Asshats.

This is all without mentioning the owner of this particular machine, who has somehow, somehow managed to block all outgoing telnet connections, which means no MUCKing. For paranoia's sake. Well, thanks. I guess that means all the work I've done can sit and stagnate, and in some cases be idle-deleted. That's just funky-fine, dude. I haven't been able to write a thing, or sit down to do any one task for more than twenty minutes, out of sheer anger over the current state of affairs. My boss is almost literally asking me to bend over, for example. I'm working six days this week. Five of them are night shifts. Two of those are double shifts. Now, I don't know about you, but doesn't common human decency suggest the good, kind thing to do might be to come and ask me if I'm able to work that long within the space of a week? Apparently not. The first I heard of this was when I looked on the weekly schedule to see my shifts, and caught sight of the total hours: 53. That's right. I'm working fifty-fucking-three hours this week, at a job I HATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE!

Fuckshitcockbastard.

I used to laugh at myself whenever I considered the possibility that the world was against me. O-ho. Where be the mirth now?!