In the midst of a sour incident and two droppings of bad news out of the blue(s) directly in my hair (so hard to get out!), I have found myself seeking escapism and solace through increasing the level of snark in my writing.
No, you’re totally right, I don’t think this is a very productive way of dealing with things, and I’m not talking about snarkin’ it up here, or you would have noticed by now, by golly. I mean, in other places. Yes, as in the graffiti on the bathroom wall, exactly.
Whereas before I might have tagged “Twirly whirly spangle jangle” right across the mirror, now it’s all “Wut the fuzz” and “Gimme a brick. No, seriously, GIMME ONE” right on the turl-et seat! Suggestive and rude.
I dare say I’m sympathizing with those renegades who stalk the internet discussion threads. No! Never!
Meanwhile, thoughts of brunch abide. Also, the aftertaste of a banana is like you just chewed a stick of anti-gum.
As a first sign, my computer is demonstrating pre-strokelike symptoms. Words aren’t coming out right; pictures aren’t showing up; and a blue screen is just a moment away.