The saga Of My Motherfuking E71

(with apologies to Rahm Emanuel)

So, right. the motherfucking e71 I have been drooling after lk a retardd puggle for ages, now?

I still don;t have the motherfucking phone.

Why_ You see, there has been drama. FIrst time I went to get it, the fucking spineless salesdroisd didn;t acept my proof of address, as if anyone in theri right mind would claima fake addres sin fucking Cabra. No seweat, fine, I jsut made sure what was needed and ame back with it next payday.

Guess what? No can do. the fucking ting had no date on it and ti was apparently a bad ting. So no phone for me.

So, come the week after tis, ia m somwhat relaly fucking pissed of and readyto start ganwing off the heads of baby bunnies when I go in. Everyting's grad.. until tey tll ,eme, out of the blue, that there#s this fucking deposit I need to pay for the phone.

Fuk that shit.

Espeally since I could not afford the deposit. So this had to wait till the next time I would et paid....

ezxept, my loelies, my boss did a it of a motherfucking suckup of legendary ages and as a result_ No fucking OT pay, no new fucking phone for me even now. cause this is ME / I don;t DO his sang up bullshit.

I am eagerly waiting to see what happens next week in this saga of Atra Getting Her Grubby Little Hands On A MotherfukingE71 and The Gadgetry Pervin That Will Follow.

Bitches.

that's all.