It’s Fuck You Friday.  This is not a time to howl into the winds about the callous nature of existence, or to swear vengeance on the score of some family blood feud.  It is a day for deploring petty crap!  Did you know that I spent several seconds searching for my phone this morning?  I do not enjoy that!  At work, the hot water dispenser furnished water that was COLD.  One cannot make tea with *that*!  Pretty soon I am deluged with idiotic questions at the top of email chains whose bottoms contain the answers (don’t they always- faw faw faw) and it is truly Fuck You Friday.  My deskmate has called in sick, so she is probably off enjoying herself.  Fuck You.

There is a hole in the toe of my stockings.
I made my monthly student loan payment.
It could definitely be a bit warmer.
I haven’t any gum!

Oh, now don’t work yourself up into a lather.  This is no time for rosacea or spitting while you talk, it makes you look Irish.  For this kind of disdain we are all for keeping it casual.  After all, it *is* Friday.