"Shit-Piss-Fuck-Mother-FUCKER!!"
"What? What is it?" David asks, his interest now piqued.
"This fucking touchpad!"
"Okay, steady on there, my love."
"You fucking steady on - JUST LET ME FUCKING HIGHLIGHT THE FUCKING SENTENCE!!!"
"O...KAY... It's time to take your hand off the touchpad."
"I HATE IT. I DESPISE IT."
"That's just because..."
"Don't you tell me that it's because I don't use one enough."
He pauses... opens his mouth and then closes it.
"I hate the double finger tip thingie..."
He quirks an eyebrow at me.
"Shut up."
"I didn't..."
"I hate that the default with everything I want to do with a fucking touchpad is opposite to what I would normally do. I want to go DOWN the fucking page. I shouldn't have to move my mother fucking fingers up!"
"Where's your wireless mouse?"
"It's broken. It tried to commit suicide." I spy a traditional mouse on the loveseat where all our audio visual equipment has been lying since we updated our TV and media player. "That mouse. Right there, with the long tail..."
"Cord?"
"Shut up."
"Can I have it?"
"Love, I'd be willing to supply you with 50 mouses if your true personality would come back."
"You just don't get it. I don't like having to use my thumb..."
He raises his other eyebrow.
"Not cute."
He shrugs.
"To CLICK. TO MOTHER-FUCKING CLICK!!!!"
"Ahhhhhh... that makes more sense. I mean having the opposable thumb is a perk to being... I'll shut up now."
The laser beams from my eyes have silenced him. That and my hefting the laptop in preparation for beating him to death.
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