What do you mean only three times this month and still nothing to talk about really other than bloody broken computers fuck fuck fuck &c.?

“Daviels, captain”, explained the first officer. “They’re upon us like a summers rain”

Captain Eckelburger furrowed his brow like a field tilled by a good-hearted woman between three and five on a wednesday. “We must take up defensive positions”, quoth mine good captain, “or suffer the inevitable consequences”

Those consequences? It is nowadays considered trivial to specualte on such matters, but I would it were not so. My ass hurts.

“Laters, blaters”, shouted able seaman Buntings, swinging his oxford stick about him like some kind of beat poet. “Where do you go?”, cried the captain. “We must take up defensive positions!”

“Nightmares plague me”, yelled Buntings. “I can’t believe we’re already in week three of semester two. And my computer is damn well bloody broken again”


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