Practice

Things are progressing quite well with the new flat. Bf and I have finally sorted most everything out with furniture and the other various stuff that goes into a new place. Yesterday was really exciting because we got something cheap and shiny to put my new toy on. So I have a proper place to practice now instead of the floor.

See? Proper place to put fun stuff:

Technology sometimes stumps me, though. If you buy something big and confusing and electronicky how come it doesn't come with directions? Why? I mean, for chrissakes, why? It's effed up. I'm left sorting everything out on my own and pressing buttons here and there finding out what's going on. In some ways it is really funny and fantastic. I'll be flipping around with stuff and then in with a mighty wallop! I get a reverberating and unexpected sound. Not unpleasant, mind. But wicked. I can't help but laugh out loud at my discoveries even though, by rights, I shouldn't have to discover anything (if I had a bloody instruction manual, that is). It's fun, anyhow, so I won't whinge as excessively as I could (or would? Grammar is all going to hell. Mine, I mean. Not actual grammar because that is impossible, obv).

Here's me having a giggle about my new stuff: (Oopsy- ignore the boobage going on...um, er, because I didn't mean to have so much showing as it is indecent. Please overlook them. Annoying buggers. Seriously, no sarcasm. They are crap. So don't be a pervert, yeah?)