Oh no, my ire rises.

Oh, yeah.
And a hearty YOU'RE WELCOME to your non-existant thanks.

Dribbling asshole.

Last time I ever do you a goddamn favour.

You know, because I have SO MUCH fucking free time in which to do favours. Especially for ungrateful wretches. So much free time that it just bubbles out of every orifice like so much bubbling free time. I'm like the Favour Fairy, with a sparkly wand and little Tinkerbell wings and a tutu. Nothing else better to do, but flit around and grant people favours. Yep, that's me.

Tra-la-la. Happy-go-lucky Tara who never has anything to worry about or stress over, other then plotting my next diabolical scheme to fuck up YOUR day with unreasonable and preposterous demands.

No wonder I'm predominantly grey underneath of all the hair dye. No fucking wonder.

Here's an idea:

Write it on a TS slip and send it to the fucking chaplain, you retarded piesmack.

Tra-la-la.

(no subject)

Slightly less angry, though far more irritated at the fact that I still do not have my car back. A part had to be ordered (like O rings are few and far between, yeah?), so hopefully it'll be tomorrow. No idea how I'm getting to work in the morning, however.

The only other thing of note at the moment is that there's this nasty fly hovering around my computer desk. I'm about ready to commit a fly holocaust because of this creature. I don't want a fly swatter. I want a goddamn fly gorecannon.

That'll do the trick quite nicely, I reckon.