Tuesday Hatred: Negotium, odium
Well obviously I hate the crap with unfogged’s DNS that went down over the last several days and how long it took to implement the actually incredibly trivial fix. I mean like obviously. I also hate that the style of this week’s hatred will be so terribly blah, so prosaic uninteresting workmanlike straightforward uncrafted; I was going to write it more exuberantly, you see, more, uh, with greater passion, bursting forth quite vulgarly, but it looks as if it isn’t going to happen. I’ve started too late—much too late. “Lone amid the café’s cheer, / Sad of heart am I to-night; / Dolefully I drink my beer, / But no single line I write. / There’s the wretched hate to say, / Yet I glower at pen and ink: / Oh, inspire me, Muse, I pray, / It is later than you think!” Quite so. Several things happened last week even on Tuesday which because of their sheer overwhelming hatefulness I was unable to put into words on that day. Mostly they pertained to my bike (again). I got a flat. Overpumped tire, you see. The pressures were too great it was under. As with us all, really. Anyway I had to walk half the way or more to the train station (I thought I had no singles with which to pay bus fare) and missed a train. The next train was a local—damn and blast! said I under my breath into my moustaches (shaved) grumblingly loud. I bought a new tube and put it on my wheel (new), in my tire. Then! Onto the train! Then an hour later—off the train. BUT WHAT IS THIS? The tire itself has a large hole through which the tube (new) is poking! Further saying under into (shaved) loud. Walked to school. Late to meeting. Had to purchase new tire. What the shit, folx.
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.