Motherfucker.

I’d been bullshitting all day, hoping something might inspire me, hoping if I trudged along long enough, maybe I’d realize, “Oh, that’s what I need to do to make myself happy today. I’ve had a telnet window open all day, because I wanted to be around in the offchance two other people were on the Atlas server. I need at least three people to take screenshots for this assignment.

By chance, I noticed two other people were around. So I quick thought, “Where’s that thick stack of papers that said what I needed to take screenshots of?” I checked the table where I typically throw my bookbag. That’s right, I left it the van, as I gave myself the “day off”. Rain. I hate the rain. “Not a problem, toss your hoodie on, run through it, and you’ll be back in no time!”

Chucked my calc book out of my backpack and ran back inside. Ran into my room. MUST TAKE SCREENSHOTS NOW. I frantically went to unzip my bookbag. It snagged. That fucker was still snagged. In my frustration, I yanked as hard as I could, eventually causing a tear in my bookbag. I yelled an explicative and threw my bookbag into the wall. Naturally, this allowed me to calmly reach into the small openning in the zipper to fetch the appropriate notebook.

Took the screenshots.

My bookbag? I more or less fucked it over. That was the bookbag that got me through college, yet the rest of the body is still in decent shape. I’ll probably get another one eventually. I’ll miss it. Another red bookbag won’t be the same. Fucker. Had to fucking snag on me. Couldn’t you fucking snag when I’m calm enough to deal with you?

I had to get out some pliers to free the material from the zipper. The zipper itself was pretty fucked with. The freeing caused the zipper to unlatch from the otherside of the zippee. Is that proper zip terminology? Whatever. I pulled the second zipper, which I’ve never ever used, across the damaged zipper. Went gracefully. I gently tried to pull it back across. It said no. I decided, “Okay, I’m getting my books out of this side of the bookbag!” Or I’ll just rip that hole in it bigger. I made that hole. I can make it fucking bigger. GRAWRRRA;WLK;AJSDLKFJ!!!!!!!!!!

You know, only I could feel like I deserved a day off, GIVE myself a day off, and end up fucking up. What the fuck. I’m supposed to be enjoying my day off, not miserable! WHAT THE FUCK. The one day I don’t give myself a schedule, I don’t give myself a plan, I don’t give myself something to do. You mean to tell me I need to plan the rest of my fucking life? JESUS BLOWS GOATS!!! BLAAAARRGGOOOO!!!

Blah. And my inner thighs are absolutely throbbing. Motherfucker.

Timmy™ (12:20:50 PM): Everybody needs to swear now and then.
Timmy™ (12:20:53 PM): It’s extreme words
Timmy™ (12:21:01 PM): The more repressive you are, the more you need them now and then.
Timmy™ (12:21:13 PM): There’s just no other way to express MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!!!
Timmy™ (12:21:22 PM): Sometimes it’s the only thing you can say.
Timmy™ (12:21:42 PM): I probably think I should, from time to time.
Timmy™ (12:21:52 PM): But I’m just talking, I find my cursing doesn’t detract from my point.
Timmy™ (12:22:26 PM): If you’re angry, taking away the cursing somehow takes away from the loss of control. Loss of control is crucial to a healthy emotional release, in some ways. To allow yourself to not be ‘perfect’.

Ahem. As I said. Motherfucker.