Hooked spider solitaire
is 10:30. I'll sleep through the office to close the computer.
I have time for a game of Spider Solitaire. I managed to make a stack, but I'm stuck. Surely that second shot that will pass like butter in the pan. If it does not pass, it's clear that I'm going to bed. It does not. Instead of closing I click "start the game." The next time I'm wrong and I click "New Game".
In this new game I just hangs at the end. We can not leave it there. The automatic install. At 12:30 I got up to the toilet. I shut the computer going. Of course I finished the game starts until dead end. My chair is Velcro. I can not get up. Naomi arrived around 1:30. "Did you need the computer, I'm going to bed. "She replies that she is too tired and she goes to bed. I put a hand on the mouse. A fluid control programmed into my veins always the same operations with the same results.
Too bad playing this game con in the wee hours of the night. There are tennis tomorrow. I laugh at me, I'm addicted but I continue. 2:30 Ghislaine concern rises. What's wrong? You do not fall asleep not! "It's nothing that I reply, I finished the game and I'm going to bed. "By
I do not know what fate I fail to clear the screen. I fail more to get up and perform the repeated promises of any close.
again I do even more with the hope of succeeding. I'm starting point. I am a robot spider solitaire. Nothing can change my programming. I play. The wheels of my decisions and my rationalizations to normal function without fatigue or stress, yet they control over the action. Decisions are no longer executed. Someone has gone to orders and is working through me without my bristled, even with my collaboration.
Two hours have passed since Ghislaine has come. I realize, the dawn is coming. I study my blocks, I vary my operations, I sometimes come close to finish but it crashes without my frustration. Thus, I begin again. Fatalism has a name, his name is Spider solitaire. Every reason in the world and even all the loves of the world would be unable to make me leave the game
It would take a miracle.
At 5:15, it no longer makes sense, I am ridiculous and I'm smiling stupidly ridiculous but I continue. Finally the miracle occurs. I managed to sort all the cards. I wake up with no joy, I close the computer and I'm going to bed like a robot who has completed the lineup. I do not even have the firm intention not to repeat. I know that oiling can touch me one time or another, or a night either.
I understand a little better, I think what he means to be hooked. Spider solitaire is after all a harmless drug and inexpensive game. What should be the downward spiral of drug addicts or game money. The paralysis that immobilizes the most generous impulses of life she knows remedies effective? Call me a doctor.
is 10:30. I'll sleep through the office to close the computer.
I have time for a game of Spider Solitaire. I managed to make a stack, but I'm stuck. Surely that second shot that will pass like butter in the pan. If it does not pass, it's clear that I'm going to bed. It does not. Instead of closing I click "start the game." The next time I'm wrong and I click "New Game".
In this new game I just hangs at the end. We can not leave it there. The automatic install. At 12:30 I got up to the toilet. I shut the computer going. Of course I finished the game starts until dead end. My chair is Velcro. I can not get up. Naomi arrived around 1:30. "Did you need the computer, I'm going to bed. "She replies that she is too tired and she goes to bed. I put a hand on the mouse. A fluid control programmed into my veins always the same operations with the same results.
Too bad playing this game con in the wee hours of the night. There are tennis tomorrow. I laugh at me, I'm addicted but I continue. 2:30 Ghislaine concern rises. What's wrong? You do not fall asleep not! "It's nothing that I reply, I finished the game and I'm going to bed. "By
I do not know what fate I fail to clear the screen. I fail more to get up and perform the repeated promises of any close.
again I do even more with the hope of succeeding. I'm starting point. I am a robot spider solitaire. Nothing can change my programming. I play. The wheels of my decisions and my rationalizations to normal function without fatigue or stress, yet they control over the action. Decisions are no longer executed. Someone has gone to orders and is working through me without my bristled, even with my collaboration.
Two hours have passed since Ghislaine has come. I realize, the dawn is coming. I study my blocks, I vary my operations, I sometimes come close to finish but it crashes without my frustration. Thus, I begin again. Fatalism has a name, his name is Spider solitaire. Every reason in the world and even all the loves of the world would be unable to make me leave the game
It would take a miracle.
At 5:15, it no longer makes sense, I am ridiculous and I'm smiling stupidly ridiculous but I continue. Finally the miracle occurs. I managed to sort all the cards. I wake up with no joy, I close the computer and I'm going to bed like a robot who has completed the lineup. I do not even have the firm intention not to repeat. I know that oiling can touch me one time or another, or a night either.
I understand a little better, I think what he means to be hooked. Spider solitaire is after all a harmless drug and inexpensive game. What should be the downward spiral of drug addicts or game money. The paralysis that immobilizes the most generous impulses of life she knows remedies effective? Call me a doctor.
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