Well, it looks like there may not be a party today after all. And no, it’s not because I’m panicked and curled in a fetal position underneath a bare folding table in the dark, humming “Ring Around the Rosey” to myself, slowly twisting what’s left of my hair into uneven braids. You see, the thing is this: I have images to upload and “pop-ups” to effectuate, and, well, my computer seems to want to just “hang” whenever I close any sort of dialog box or pop-up window.
So unless someone can help me figure what the FLYINGMOTHERLESSFUCK heck is going on with this GODDAMNEDFUCKINGBULLSHITCOCKSUCKER silly computer stuff (Is it XP? Internet Explorer? Something astrological? A full moon? A hex?), well, there will be no party.
It’s my party and I’ll curse like a truckdriver if I want to.
Just an empty Ballroom with a “live chat” feature (check that out, at least), where you will find me sobbing gently, cake frosting smeared all over my teary face, hugging a stuffed one-eyed, tattered unicorn and a Barbie doll whose hair I pulled out and onto whose plastic body I’ve scrawled “bad words” on all the fun parts with a magic marker. Rocking back and forth and softly singing “Happy Birthday to Me” in a minor key.