three fucking some stupid ass fucking something in the fuck me morning and shit that's too fucking easy and good to be true once again more than likely *is* the post office job is going to be a fucking joke just like the genesee lake job was shit; another example of a big fucking corporation finding ingenious new ways to string along naive desperate idiots and pay their existing career employees slightly less all the while either a) making shitloads more profit, or b) temporarily staving off inevitable failure and crashing and burning which, when it does finally happen, will destroy the lives of said employees first, they'll be the fodder, the cushions for the fat asses of the powerful so i'll be going to the class without any sleep at all, this should be fun and there's tor fucking nadoes and derechoes and whatever the fuck else coming in a few hours; hey at least that's the weather; that's god; that's real; that's something that's still for the time being at least unsullied by human so fucking called invention and one of the few things that's not fully been converted into a vector for advertising like the fucking stupid ass piece of shit internet although even as i say that i realize it's the stupid ass piece of shit internet that has allowed me to accelerate my understanding of how the usps and every other corporation in the fucking world is a voracious rapacious pile of filth so i guess there's a few sides to everything and i tried to write something on the fucking stupid as shit imperfect expensive ridiculous iPad but after an app crash and literally 6 or 7 futile struggles against the insane donkey will of the autocorrect and the fake stupid ass keyboard i literally threw it down and gave up, ok i fucking pad, you win, i literally got tired of fighting you for the right to type what i wanted to type, i give up, you win, i cannot have a voice because you are the voice of all generations now, you are the mighty eraser of history, we suckle at the pornographic tit of your ad-delivering bounty, we are fake text files and you are the mighty media that consumes us all and we pay dearly for the privelege too and there's a fucking mosquito in here that will probably be dead soon and i wonder if it made all the right decisions and i wonder if it had any kids and i wonder if it missed opportunities to say the right things and i wonder if it feels vulnerable and does that vulnerability keep it awake at night like now and it too is drawn to the screen and what's drawn on the screen and the screen has a half-life and the mosquito and i have half a life apiece and i will share my life with you, mosquito, at least until i get a chance to slap you out of existence, crush you against my thigh and maybe eventually possibly maybe tomorrow anyway if the storms don't blow the house to bits get some sleep we'll see i guess meantime before i leave i'll remind the kids about going in the basement if the wind picks up, meantime before you leave remind yours about sucking blood and how not to get squashed by the hand of god (2015)