We interrupt regular programming to bring you... another story about my pants.

This is getting ridiculous.
I wish I was fucking kidding you. But, I'm not.

I have broken my new jeans that I bought less than two weeks ago, after suffering through the slow death of my old jeans.

How, you ask?

I also fucking ask the same thing.

I was putting them on, having done the pants dance. The fly was apparently already done up half way, and so, as I pulled them up, thinking, "wow, these are even tighter than usual", it reached a point where there was a snap and things started flying around and I thought "oh shit shit noooo".

Such a thought was well founded.

What flew off my pants was a piece of the track. Three of the little teeth things that Wikipedia tells me are called "elements". Not just that but what Wikipedia tells me is called the "slider" is now only attached to one side of the zip.

FUCK MY LIFE.

I cannot fix this shit. I am terrible at fixing anything. What I am, conversely (see how I did that? Added in one of my favourite words, although completely unnecessary? Do I not kick ass? ...Am I not completely fail at life and pants?) is fantastic, like no one was before, at breaking everything I come close to.

WHYGODWHY???

My life is hell.