They smell of moth balls and dried saliva. Doesn't help that they talk at the volume of an old-school hailer.
Of course, it's super ironic that I have to do up a book based on old people. Oh well, I guess I have to start getting used to moth balls. Bo pian.
And ffffuck, no laptop. I don't know why Fujitsu has such lousy service.
They don't bother to check what's wrong with my laptop even after they've got my entire hard-disk changed since it was so bloody corrupted.
IS IT SO BLOODY HARD TO PRESS THAT ON BUTTON AND SEE IF IT'S OKAY?!
After that, this lady brought my laptop out for me to check, there was this pop-up and WTF, when I asked what the hell is that pop up for (since I passed my laptop to them a good week ago. A WEEK, DAMNIT!), THEY COULDN'T TELL ME.
Will collect it another time. So fucked. As fucked as a teenage boy with raging hormones and having sex preoccupying his hollow head 95% of the time.
YESSS! LAST DAY OF SKOOOOL TOMORROW! HO HO HO!
