Bier de Stone ( wrote,
Bier de Stone

beaky writes the fiction

I have one of those tiny laptops Apple came up with called a MacBook Air. I love it. Sometimes it's challenging to use because of the limitations of not having access to ports like firewire, usb, or even a disc drive.

I've been calling E.G. Brennan, the service center that took over Continental Business Machines. Every time I call (once a week) they say they cannot find replacement parts for my typewriter. So, while my typewriter is hospitalized, I've been taking a break from updating my blog (although I hardly ever updated beforehand either.)

My vacation starts in a few weeks. The countdown has commenced. I think I'm already packed with the junk I'll need to keep me busy. Visions of grandeur writing a Fodor travel blog like Audipenny fill my brain. I remember when her updates would appear on my insta too! why? though. Is she somebody's offspring I use to know? My guess, on this line of thought, is Marlo Meekins because, well, I don't know the person she reminds me of anymore either. I've pretty much went off the grid where friends and acquaintances go; it works for me because the stress of being lonely is not comparable with the anxiety relationship cause. And I still have most of my hair! Oh my god. I told one gf that I was into BDSM because I couldn't quite justify the reason I torture myself by excluding people in my life AND do you know what she thought that meant? She thought that meant I was into pain and whenever she didn't get what she wanted, she would pull my hair. OMG, and the gf before that had fingernails. Not that I tell all the people I meet this half-asst conjecture, but I guess this one (the one with the sharp fingernails) detected a similar characteristic so she thought I might like being scratch and punched.

I'll try to keep my readers apprised of my status. Here at work people actually believe I might fall out of the plane, train, automobile. But that's nonsense. I assure you, my faithful reader, there is nothing to fear. I will be okay. I am not so depressed that I would kill myself. If I were to fall off the cruise ship, it would most definitely be because I got so effing drunk I couldn't walk straight. And the only reason I would get so effing drunk would only be if my exgf, whom I proffered an invitation, accepted, shows up, and nags the shit out of me. This kind of scenario will jettison any probability of happening as a result of the jewishness I might have in me that instills a conscience that constantly reminds me of how remorseful I am about high school. She really is nice to have maintained an open channel of communication with me all these years.
Tags: have why or bust

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