I Bought a Time Machine From the Thrift Store

Well, a time machine of sorts. It's an old school Dymo label maker. Heavy metal, chrome plating, it's like bawse status as far as label makers are concerned. This thing has the power to turn your maturity clock back to the elementary school era instantly. Oh sure, it starts well enough. *click* *click* *click* *click*. "MINE". Nice, now I can label things that belong to me. *click* *click* *click* *click* "CRAP". Hmm, that's odd. Why would I.. *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* *click* "SHIT ASS BUTT FART". Oh, real mature. Yeah that's what this label maker is for, unbridled obscenity. It's a shit ass butt fart machine, right? But that's how it operates with these cursed machines. You simply cannot turn that alphanumeric wheel without eventually clicking out ribbons of vulgarity that no respectable adult would replicate in any other media. There is something about this hunk of nostalgic crap that makes you want to insult friends and label everything in completely erroneous ways. Why? I have yet to figure that out myself, but I am working on it. There has to be a logical explanation for why this thing turns you into an immature crapmaster.