iTremors
Do not, I say, do not download this new H1 of the N1 of iTunes Version 9.0.2.1.0, or something like that. Unless you happen to be a bridge-taped, black horn rimmed glasses level nerd who is versed in post DOS conversatin’, and have confidence in the ingress ability of your RAM/ROM, or you’re own Bob Villaness – because installing it fumigates electric flatulence that takes a good 30 minutes or more to clear the screen. If I’m not both the King of Metaphors and run-on sentences, I’ll buy that computer program you see everywhere, and learn how to write nutty stuff in Swahili too.
My laptop just couldn’t handle the truth for whatever reason. The progress bar seemed to be slower than a turtle on benzodiazepines; plus, it kept mocking me by flashing the whole time, which forced me to notice all of its non-progressivity. It was beneficial to my penchant for Breakin’ Two Electric Boogaloo’n that it was a slow flashing light, however, because rave speed tends to make me hit the floor on occasion. This time, my computer was the one who went rigid, passed out twice, and vomited on Windows before it came back to life. To change paces like a cheater in a duel, I think the Apple that all this computerosity is named after must have been the one that brained Thomas Jefferson after he told the truth about trimming that shrub. Think about it.
I’ve previously stated that my new seizure firewall Lamictal seems to be working; but based on the name, it also makes me think I’ll be able to breast feed in another year or so. After jumping up to this rung of the Lamictal ladder, I started to notice my hands shaking as well - and I was already told that this might happen. It still made me wonder things like, “Does this mean I have MS?” and “Am I really drinking more than your average Bardstownian Smith?” I got on Charlotte’s electric web, and ciphered me some knowledge that a sidecar of Lamictal is tremors – hand shaking that is, not like the stars of that dumb movie. So, I’ve loaded up my dose and moved to Shakerlee. Due to prescribed and therapeutically ranged pills ya see. I think I’ve even registered on one of them sizemogiraffes that those folks who are waiting for the New Madrid to fault use. The other day in court – professional, not personal – my hands were twitchin’ so much, I think the bailiff thought I was giving him the sign for a hit and run. My handwriting is worse than my wife’s, and she has poor handwriting even by doctors’ standards. I have to get a pharmacist to tell me what my notes from the last hearing I had say. Basically, I can’t read how Charlie Brown writes. Wah wah wah wah?
