Stupid Mr. Bleck

Today I write to you sprawled out on the couch, multi-tasking it by stretching the backs of my legs as I write to hopefully rid my body of the pain that ensued from my first time doing squats in a long, long time. Eons, maybe. Maybe Aeons. Aeon flux? Either way, the lion is on my left guarding my kaffee, and the Eskimo is at 10 o’clock chillin’ with the candle.
The Deutsch word for squats is kniebeuge(n), not sure about the n. I thought the word made it seem a lot funner than it is in reality. (I see by the red, squiggly line under funner that it is not the proper English, but as long as “squiggly” as actually a word, I am not fixing “funner”.)

Back to the future, or the past as it were, but the future for you who are all trying to figure out how I got to my present location. If I mean this sofa, that has a lot to do with the story of two days ago, or vorgestern, and the scheming of the employees of Mr. Bleck’s against me whereas they turned off the internet on me every so often. Just enough to piss me off. The best was when I was first at the “new” Mr. Bleck’s, and did not order anything because I was not sure if the internet would even work, but still stayed there for awhile trying. I didn’t really care kus I had never seen the barista before. Then when I went to the originally discovered Mr. Bleck’s and began surfing the gnarly internet successfully, the conspiracy theory became no longer a theory, when the guy working at the other Mr. Bleck’s came in to do his second shift at this one.

That is when the internet stopped working. Jerks.