I love keyboards. I use the Dvorak keyboard layout. It has the same physical structure as your QWERTY keyboard, but the keys themselves are linked to different letters. Typing “I hate this” on a Dvorak keyboard in QWERTY would result in “G jakd kjg;”.
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Well, I purchased this smartphone from Nokia two weeks ago. Now I’m ready to point out some features I don’t like in my Nokia N70. Hope my girlfriend reads this and feels ashamed - it’s her who convinced me to buy N70 istead of the wonderful N90 I was going to buy…
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Never call yourself dead if you are unsure. If you question whether or not a shot hit you and splatted call a paintcheck and have the referee check if you are dead yet. Don’t just call yourself out because you felt a hit. Wait for the referee to confirm. Always call paint checks on yourself if you are unsure. I hate paintball beginners crying “Dead!” while he’s still at his virgin clothes… Beginners always make a few mistakes that everyone makes. I make them all the time. Here are a few helpful hints:
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When the archaeologists of the future try to piece together the cause of our civilisation’s decline, it will not be nuclear weapons they blame, nor will it be pollution or comets or even George W Bush.
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I wish there was a nicer way to say it: I hate banks. I cannot believe that they treat their consumers so poorly. It took a few years to get to this point, mind you. But when you have been thousands of dollars in debt, flat broke, and in need of a solution, you start to hate banks very quickly.
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The first-ever series of layoffs I experienced resulted in me scouring the Internet high and low for seemingly reputable inexpensive online insurance brokers. I settled on ehealthinsurance.com and went through a fairly easy application process. That was a year and a half ago.
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The year swings round and once again Mother’s Day was thrust upon me before I’d barely recovered from the last. What to most Mothers is a time to look forward to, a time of cheesy cards, cheap bouquets of Mothers Day flowers and low fat chocolates all received with a winsome smile and tears of gratitude; is for me a stress filled agony. I loathe the whole thing but out of love for my dear little angels I am forced to smile sweetly and bite my lip. It’s not so much the school made cards that get to me, those I love, and it’s not that for two whole hours after I get up the little darlings are, well, just that. Little darlings. No, what really grips my shit is the whole idea that if you’re nice to Mother for one day a year then she’ll forgive you everything for the other 364 days when you have been an inconsiderate little fecker. Oh will she really? I think not!
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I love children. I hate kids. And the kid I dislike the most, I see much too often. He is a conceited brat that fights with different kids in full view. I dread it when he’s screeching and screaming with others.
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