Complaining to Myself in an English Accent

It was such a cliched moment. I stood next to the Temple site, camera in hand, complaining in clean language and an English accent because the stupid thing wouldn't turn on. I finally said, "Fine. I'll tell all those people it's your fault that I missed five whole days of pictures because you wouldn't turn on!" And I dumped the offending contraption unceremoniously back into my bag. On the way to the steps of the Tabernacle for my study time, I realized it was sprinkling, so it was probably unwise to try to read a book under the open sky. So I determined that I would do my studying before I watched the movie I had borrowed from my friend, but would wait until I got home. I went to the corner to cross the street- and the streetlight wouldn't turn into a little blue man! Now this was one of the lights that was usually quite cooperative, so I was feeling a little put out. I thought it may have been because I was talking in an accent, but then, I always talk in accents. Last time I was a pirate. I decided all the electronics were just in bad moods because it was raining. I finally crossed the street and made my way across the Smiths parking lot; after that I had to cross yet another street, and the light for the street I wasn't crossing was a blue man  the entire time. So, in short, I was aggrivated. Then, two blocks after I finally crossed the street, the rain poured sown in earnest and I was soaked to the skin by the time I got home. Oh, and I almost got hit by a car... twice. And through this entire deluge of rainwater, each rotation of my bike tire was puctuated by the sounds of my British-accented complaining... until I saw the Seminary Building. Then, (still in an accent,) anyone who was listening would have heard, "Onward, ever onward, as we glory in His name..."