I am at least temporarily restored, and not sure this will reach twitter but I am, reluctantly, one of the twits. My life is hell and I may need a new printer. If I was 20 years younger I'd marry Ashley from the geeks. On my Toshiba pc and I am displeased. If things stay functional I shall return this evening. My life is hell, come hug me. (How can one be needy and a misanthrope at the same time?)
I had a manufactured clash with my favorite enemy transvestite Monday afternoon in the lobby before dear Ashley had to tolerate my latent post menopausal hysteria yesterday, and I came very close to telling Erik that dancing on his grave would be one of my last exuberant sensibilities: interaction with s/him freak is a bitter reminder of my career destruction, and though Erik is three fourths closer to cessation, compared to my one fourth, the least we can do is ignore each other, a salve to my bitterness.
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