I wasn't sure whether or not I should post this one, after all keys are an inanimate object (or should that be inanimate objects?), but fuck it, if I wasn't pissed off with them, I'd have to be pissed off with me and that would never do.
For the last 48 hours I've been without these, as they lay hidden under a pile of papers on my desk, causing me untold grief and stress. Well, you know what? YOU PISSED ME OFF, YOU LITTLE BASTARDS. Although it was lovely to find you again.
3 comments:
What really pisses me off is that these little bastards act innocent, knowing all along the daily angst they cause
They are fucking bastards and really give me the fucking arsehole!
You are correct in your (unwritten) assumption that inaminate objects have it in for you. My advice is to teach all such objects a lesson they will never forget. I find that a three foot section of scaffolding bar solves most problems. Best however, to have additional keys cut before destroying the offending little blighters. Then, allow the newly cut keys to witness the destruction of their irksome predecessors. It invariably works for me; especially so, as the additional cost involved, tends to make me rather more careful of where I leave my keys. Just a thought, is all...
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