I swear to fuck, it's like my bitterness and dissatisfaction with life was fucking news or something. Have you become bored of my bemusings? Find yourself mind-numbed by my moanings? Finally dispirited by my whining? Took your fucking time.
So I thought I'd go all upbeat today, and maybe find a picture of a pussycat or a cute little pigeon or some such. I couldn't find any pussycat pictures that weren't already daubed with misspelled witless witticisms and all the pigeon pics are just a little toooo cute. So instead I have decided to share a positive news story that I came across. The design of my bleugh is so irredeemably shit that it appears to be unclear when I am using a hyperlink. Here is the story. Here. You need to click on the word here, right here, to go to the link.
Cute, huh? There is a god, right? No, there fucking isn't. Because my omniscience (you knew I was omniscient, didn't you?) tells me this:
The mother fucked the baby out the window because it was crying too much, interrupting her Oprah, bringing her down, and the Kevin Cash post person had only paused under the window to nick a birthday fiver out of a card sent to the baby by her cancer riddled grandmother. Given the time to think about it she would have let the child bounce off the pavement so that she could have sued mommy, the post office and the dead baby itself for post traumatic stress and the grey matter dry cleaning bill.
Baby brain fragment is a real bitch to get out.
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