Let me tell you some things which I struggle to tolerate. Cruelty, obviously. That’s one.  And rudeness. There’s another. But mainly it’s techology.
Technology, rather. I’m so furious with it I can barely bring myself to spell the stupid word.
I’m a moron. A Technogit, watching bewildered as the future accelerates into the distance without me and children explain patiently how to upload videos onto YouTube while I hammer at the keyboard with my meaty fists, crying.
“This is meant to make my life EASIER!” is my popular refrain as I hurl yet another laptop at the wall, smashing it into smithereens.
“I can’t BLOODY WORK THIS THING!” is another noise which my mouth makes so often it is technically my jingle.
(Talking of jingles if I had my way that cheepy little Intel Inside jingle (“Dun. Dun dun dun dun.”) would be replaced with a pan pipe version of the Death March accompanied by a gif of me kicking my computer into the sun. They’ll probably do that now and win an advertising award so cutting edge it’s just a razor blade mounted onto a barbed wire plinth. For fucks sake.)

Do I sound angry? I’ve just spent the last FOUR HOURS dicking about with various websites trying to complete tasks so simple a monkey could have done them. In fact he probably invented the software. Confusion irritates me. I become frustrated by the limitations of my understanding, and get annoyed when sites slow up or fail or the Q sticks on my keyboard (which it does often, and I live at an address with 3 of the bastards in it).
You should see me when my computer crashes – I basically turn into the Hulk, but with better hair. And tits. Imagine that. A Hulk with Tits.

I am declaring a fucking mutiny. A plague on this technocurse. It is endlessly evolving – a self perpetuating upward spiral of slicker, faster, glossier, higher resolutions, faster downloads, brighter, harder, louder. Our gadgets shrink while our technology expands. If we’d told our forefathers that we would one day be able to speak to each other face to face across continents for less than the cost of a light bulb their heads would have spun round and exploded across the room in great bloody smears of brain, such would have been their incomprehension. Such is mine, also. Plus, they wouldn’t have known what a lightbulb was and that would take ages to explain, so actually lets not bother. Move on from that analogy.

I said MOVE ON. There’s nothing to see here.