Stupid little things that bug you

These needle dick cunts with their cars that 'misfire' or whatever it is when accelerating in a queue of traffic or anywhere for that matter and think they're cool.
You're a fuckin whopper kid!
Surely that's an exclusive to Lincoln, where I'm currently... (don't know the word and too depressed thinking about it)....ahh yes, working and away from my SK home
 
Surely that's an exclusive to Lincoln, where I'm currently... (don't know the word and too depressed thinking about it)....ahh yes, working and away from my SK home
Fuckin everywhere mate, these same cunts are probably the ones that dump the nitrous oxide cannisters all over the show too.
Would love to rub their noses in steaming hot dog shit.
 
Tonight neither my partner or I could be arsed making dinner. I held out as long as I could not to have a snack, in the hope she would see my emaciated frame and buckle. Don't listen to optimists, hope is never enough.

She went straight to her, I cant be arsed cooking but noodles are easy, default.

I tried to remain calm and conceal a trembly lip. Then it came to me. Cheese on toast, garlic flakes, thinly sliced mushrooms, white pepper.

Heres where the problem that bugs me appeared, again.

With no dinner, two slices wouldn't do. How could it? You do the maths. I do my toast first in the toaster, lightly toasted, toppings on, under the grill, boom. Two slice in, I want 3, but that means one side of the toaster is burning with fuck all in it. With the rise in the price of leccy, thats about £54. So four it is.

First two done, next two in. Problem. Because the toaster has been on, the second two breads are now going into a really hot place, means, you guessed it, from lightly brown, to fucking near burnt. Remember, it was still to go under the grill. I know, I m not sure how i coped either.

Just as well I like well done toast. That's all I'm saying. I hope someone can be arsed cooking tomorrow. Someone else obviously.
 
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Tonight neither my partner or I could be arsed making dinner. I held out as long as I could not to have a snack, in the hope she would see my emaciated frame and buckle. Don't listen to optimists, hope is never enough.

She went straight to her, I cant be arsed cooking but noodles are easy, default.

I tried to remain calm and conceal a trembly lip. Then it came to me. Cheese on toast, garlic flakes, thinly sliced mushrooms, white pepper.

Heres where the problem that bugs me appeared, again.

With no dinner, two slices wouldn't do. How could it? You do the math. I do my toast first in the toaster, lightly toasted, toppings on, under the grill, boom. Two slice in, I want 3, but that means one side of the toaster is burning with fuck all in it. With the rise in the price of leccy, thats about £54. So four it is.

First two done, next two in. Problem. Because the toaster has been on, the second two breads are now going into a really hot place, means, you guessed it, from lightly brown, to fucking near burnt. Remember, it was still to go under the grill. I know, I m not sure how i coped either.

Just as well I like well done toast. That's all I'm saying. I hope someone can be arsed cooking tomorrow. Someone else obviously.
I approve your use of the word ‘Math’ as opposed to those silly peeps south of the border insisting on ‘maffs’
 

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