The cursor flashes...flashes...flashes, mocking me like an insolent middle schooler. I can hear its unsaid singsong message "You've got nuthin', you've got nuthin'". I give it a hard stare, the one calculated to freeze recalcitrant children in their tracks. The one that makes Jehovah Witnesses shrink from the porch in fear. The stare that makes white trash move their fat arse from the aisle at WalMart. The cursed cursor does not flinch. It just flashes on and on, secure in the knowledge I am responsible for its movement. The uncaring cursor knows it is up to me to hit the keys in a meaningful way that ends up with combinations of lines and curves that form words and sentences that entertain you.
Oh, cursor you sit there flashing away, no cares in the world. You have no bills, no work, no responsibilities. You are but a slave to my whims, my fingers, my nerves, my brain. You are nothing but electronic zeros and ones. Yet, there you sit flashing on and off and acting all superior. Just who do you think you are cursor? You are not better than me. I will not bow down to you like an Obama before a Saudi Potentate. I will not kiss your extended ring. I will not kowtow to your smug complacency. You are nothing without me! I made you. Screw you cursor.
Quit laughing at my pathetic attempts to blog, you flashing stick of evil. I have the power. I have the control. I can make you go away. I will win. Watch this mother fuc...
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