I have just resorted to using my Dad's "CUMMINS DIESEL" Zippo Lighter to ignite my "DIAMOND" "Strike On Box" matches. After all these years I STILL don't know HOW fucked up I am or if I'm just "messed-up" crazy. I acquired a "pitch pipe" because the note being siren-ed from my Microwave is tearing my brain into thin strips of raw nerve hide. I'm figurin' that Note of Razor is f-sharp. I'll know for real once I use the pitch pipe --- I haven't yet because I want it to stay BRAND SPANKING NEW --- and if I use it even ONCE there THAT goes, the result of spit-filled lung contaminated "blow". Disgusting .
That note is "A"...not even A "sharp". You'd think that the note SHOULD be a "sharp" because it cuts so finely and somehow add rubbing alcohol to increase its severity. As I just wrote, I still don't know, like EXACTLY, how fucked up I REALLY am.
Here's what I DO know, my Microwave attacks my tiny Monkey brain on a regular and routine basis. I have to monitor its every second so when it reads "0" I can interrupt its savagely scathing alarm.
It's no way to live. The Pitch Pipe helps to relieve my AGONY by identifying that Sound of Hell. The Hells are alive, with the sound of Misery.
That's just the least of it.....
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