Let’s face it, these weekly updates are becoming more unreliable by the minute. They’re appearing at different times on different days and most of them are more than a week apart. The weekly update here on Dating Dramas is waning to say the least. It’s not because I’m losing interest in my little blog world. Nothing could be further from the truth. It’s because modern technology and I are sworn, bitter enemies.
On more than one occasion I have been regarded as a puritan when it comes to the written word. For example, an ebook is not a book. A book is made from paper and has a story or information written inside, preferably in beautifully ornate, handwritten calligraphy, although I understand why printing is such a hit. I didn’t welcome the era of modern technology with open arms, rather, I was dragged towards it, kicking and cursing while holding a crucifix in one hand and a bottle of holy water in the other. I miss the days of leaky fountain pens and sheets of paper that bore watermarks of quality.
Computers, iPads, mobile phones, they can all sense my loathing. They’ve reacted to my distrust not by embracing me and showing me their apparently superior ways, but with unreliabilty and protest. They hate me. They laugh and sneer as I wipe away tears of frustration. They hide or delete things randomly and break at the most inopportune moments, just to show me who’s boss. I hate them and they hate me.
Their recent ploy is to take away the very few things I enjoy about modern technology, this being music, gaming and blogging. My broadband internet is slower than a 90 year old after a hip replacement. My laptop refuses to charge 99% of the time and if it does, it overheats within 5 minutes and I narrowly avoid third degree burns to my upper thighs. Even the WordPress app on my phone is built to taunt the puritan grammer Nazi within me. I can type on it, as my last 20 or so posts will prove, but it only provides half a service. I want to align my text, highlight key words and link back to previous posts, less you, my poor readers, don’t have a clue what I’m babbling on about. I want pretty, centralised images in a variety of eye catching sizes. In short, I want my writing to be presentable and easy to read. It pains me deep within to know that each post is not bloody alligned!
Modern technology uses my anally retentive approach to the written word as ammunition against me. I hate it. Ergo, my posts have become infrequent not because I am bored or have nothing to share with you, but because HP and Android phones and Microsoft and WordPress all suck giant donkey balls!!!
In other news, my physical health has been this week’s priority. I’ve been weak and pathetic and feeling very sorry for myself. As well as the chronic kidney disease and leukopenia, I now, unsurprisingly, have anaemia aswell. Iron tablets now join the vitamins, steroids and prozac that I pour down my throat as part of my daily morning ritual. I swear, if I was an animal they’d have put me down by now!
To top it all off, my teeth are causing me issues too. Have you ever had your teeth professionally cleaned? Do you know how it feels to rediscover how sharp they are? Well, I do and its driving me a little crazy. I can’t help running my tongue over the newly rediscovered grooves in my teeth, but they’re starting to make my tongue very sore. Consequently I have two small welt like marks on the tip of my tongue, that, if I’m brutally honest, actually resemble a vagina. Two teeny, tiny labia. Like Barbie’s, if she had them. That’s right, my inability to leave my own mouth alone means I’m walking around with Barbie’s sore cunt on the tip of my tongue. I bet Ken’s really jealous.
So yes, I’m a little mopey right now. I keep thinking a good fuck would sort me right out, clear my head and put a spring in my step but truthfully, no-one has had old Lola’s loins stirring for a while. That’s typical. I finally look ok naked, thanks to a little weight loss and a killer British tan, and all I want to do is sit on my arse eating carbs and playing xbox. Pfft.
Physical Health: Barbie’s cunt. Seriously.
Mental Health: Meh. But hey, sane well behaved women rarely make history! ;)