Daly stabbed at the keyboard semi-randomly. He wasn't too concerned with correct spelling because he couldn't actually see the computer screen, it was too foggy. A chill mist had swept in from apparently nowhere and was annoying everything in the room.
Tendrils of white fog whipped around his fingers as he typed before cascading away in ever increasing circles. After a while of this he decided enough was enough and picked up the dog next to him and used it's paws to prod at the keys. It didn't seem to notice and continued it's efforts to lick his nose at every available opportunity. It had become shockingly good at this and had turned Daly's very existance into an extended game of peek-a-boo as it had taken to popping up from behind cover, administering a literal assault on the senses and then running away, cries of frustration ringing in it's ears.
It was also, as Daly discovered quite good at typing. What it was terrible at, unfortunately, was behaving.
Story finally finished Daly tossed the dog aside and pressed 'Publish'. It yelped as it hit the wall and ran outside to bark at some spiders.