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26 July 2010 @ 09:59 pm
 
Gmail:

For one moment in this small blip of my summer, I have the time, patience and ability to put up with your shite and get my songs printed out. You can not pull this utter donkey-dung on me and stop working after ONE SONG. I have waited too long for this and after laughing yoga/meditation, my legs resemble spaghetti too much to head back to my room, find my mem stick and figure out where the frak it plugs in on this monstrous Cylon frakking computer.

I am peeved with you. Get your shite together. There's a reason I recommend you to my friends. Don't make me regret spreading the word.

START WORKING OR YOU WILL HAVE ONE DISPLEASED KIWI ON YOUR HANDS. BAD THINGS HAPPEN WHEN DISPLEASED KIWIS EXIST.

lasjkdfklasjdf

Grrrrrr.

Kiwi

P.S. No just kidding I don't actually have the energy for any of these emotions. My face is utterly blank typing this up. There's a general under-the-surface vexation... Please start working. I want to be sleeping by 11p.m. Gee, wouldn't THAT be nice.