You motherfucker.
Yeah, cursor, I'm talking to you.
Sitting there blinking at me, mocking me, making me feel self-conscious about not having anything to write on my blog.
That's right, bitch. MY blog. This isn't "Cursor Versus World," so fuckoff.
I'll write what I want to write when I want to write it.
Don't judge me. You can't even do anything but sit there and flash. Oh, cool party trick, Cursor! Your blinking line is really settin' this place off! Douche.
You can't even have a party. Because nobody would come, except for WoW freaks and other no-friendo, sun-fearing bipeds. Where would you have it? In a chat room? You're such a loser!
Cursor, you should know that you're nothing without me. Nothing! You can't even write your ow blog. Know why? Because you're a fucking cursor.
Fuck you.
Love,
Sam
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1 comment:
Sounds like Sam needs a beer...
You know I'm usually around to drink with you so you don't become the lonely-man-drinking-at-the-bar mumbling curses about cursors under your breath...
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