Yeah, it sure feels like it's just one of those days when every little thing leads towards yet another little thing that leads towards another little thing ad nausea in a Rube Goldberg rigmarole machine that industrial-light-and-magically turns molehills into Vesuviuses and all you can really do is to step back and at least try to admire how the red hot lava flow looks from the privileged view from the rim of the mouth of the crater, and then let rip at it a thick globulous wad of spit. Fuck you, 20th June 2009. Fuck you in the mouth with my big fat hairy cock.
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