I've just looked at my blog using Apple's Safari, and the layout is not working at all. It works just jim-dandy in IE... and (phew) Firefox, but not Safari. And I don't know why, dang it. Why? Why?
Why, Sugar Kat? It's 'cause the Internet HATES you. The whole damned thing just loathes your dumb white ass. That's why. Bitch.
Also, no one's reading this anymore. I can tell. I'm psychic that way. Yes, I'm psychic in a completely useless way. I can't tell you who's going to win the Preakness or what the outcome of the continuing wars in Afghanistan and/or Iraq will be, but I can tell no one is reading this. I'm freaking Trelawney, only with the Internet. Which hates me.
Also, I got Maggie & Ryan's invite and IT'S SOOOO PURTY! And I'm thinking, Yay! Maggie and Ryan are getting hitched! Yay! I hafta get 'em presents! Groovy, groovy presents. ...Wait. Money. Job. Crap. But, PRESENTS! They must have fantabulous presents. ...Hotel? Fuck! Hotel! Augh! But, dammit, I am going, and I'm bringing presents. I may have to drive back home at 3 in the morning (three hour drive), but, dammit, I'm going, and I'm bringing presents. I'll probably be wearing jeans, as I've nada to wear, but I'll hide behind a pillar or something. Drive. I have to get a driver's license. Me, driving. Gah. That's just freakin' terrifyin'. Clear the roads, people. Sugar Kat's behind the wheel.
But I can write all that and be fine 'cause no one's reading this so no one will know and I can freak all I want about how the hell I'm going to pay for it and no one will know. Or care, really. And there you go.
And the Internet still hates me.
Why, Sugar Kat? It's 'cause the Internet HATES you. The whole damned thing just loathes your dumb white ass. That's why. Bitch.
Also, no one's reading this anymore. I can tell. I'm psychic that way. Yes, I'm psychic in a completely useless way. I can't tell you who's going to win the Preakness or what the outcome of the continuing wars in Afghanistan and/or Iraq will be, but I can tell no one is reading this. I'm freaking Trelawney, only with the Internet. Which hates me.
Also, I got Maggie & Ryan's invite and IT'S SOOOO PURTY! And I'm thinking, Yay! Maggie and Ryan are getting hitched! Yay! I hafta get 'em presents! Groovy, groovy presents. ...Wait. Money. Job. Crap. But, PRESENTS! They must have fantabulous presents. ...Hotel? Fuck! Hotel! Augh! But, dammit, I am going, and I'm bringing presents. I may have to drive back home at 3 in the morning (three hour drive), but, dammit, I'm going, and I'm bringing presents. I'll probably be wearing jeans, as I've nada to wear, but I'll hide behind a pillar or something. Drive. I have to get a driver's license. Me, driving. Gah. That's just freakin' terrifyin'. Clear the roads, people. Sugar Kat's behind the wheel.
But I can write all that and be fine 'cause no one's reading this so no one will know and I can freak all I want about how the hell I'm going to pay for it and no one will know. Or care, really. And there you go.
And the Internet still hates me.
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