The damnable piece of circuits and plastic was filled to brimming with words. Words I couldn't read told me how to do all the things I couldn't do without reading them. It was infuriating! How was I ever going to make contact with the world if I couldn't decipher the instructions? If I couldn't make contact, how could I even begin to find true love - or at least someone who might be interested in a good groping session or two.
I mean, weren't pictures good enough? They worked for the bike path through the business park. One crude outline that vaguely resembled a bike, a line on the ground, and a few arrows kept everyone safe from becoming a mangled mass of wool suits, mechanical parts, and broken bones.
Pictures worked for what I l...
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