Christmas Card
Of course all 'cards' of any type are worthless but this one, while not particulary bold or funny caught my eye. Especially since it was one of my 'relatives (you know, the people who you cant help being related to after birth).'
"No day quite like Christmas..." -True
"no family quite like ours..." -Sad, but true. I was confused by the whole family part but I read on anyhow.
"no memories quite like the ones a grandson makes" - Also sad but almost still funny because I never had an x-mas memories with this relative... ever, plus I didn't have many memories at all this last Christmas day.
Hallmark...
Everyone always says it's the thought that counts; Alright, well then seriously how much thought does it take to get some premade bullshit card which means nothing and doesn't apply to you at all from a store - usually Hallmark? Not much in my book. Why not just send me a fucking e-mail that says 'I thought of a tree too,' and save some fucking paper. Fuck Hallmark, it's just another reason our society is going to a state of anomie. If I ever saw someone turn over a card to check if it was from Hallmark I'd seriously consider reverse-heel-kicking them in the face.
Customer 'Service'
Okay so...the customer is always right, supposedly. So then why do cashiers give you your change AND your cash in the same hand. It's a huge pain in the ass to deal with and just hinders the line when the customer has to stop, take the change in his/her other hand and then deal with the cash seperately. This not only hinders the entire flow of a line but inconveniences the customer, someone who is supposedly always right and should be catered to.
New Blinds
So the other day I got frustrated at not being able to see my monitor in true form because of the window in back of my desk which in a dimly lit basement causes severe backlight. Originally I tried to remedy this with a beach-towel which I taped to the top of the window-frame, but repeatedly fell off despite how much 'gorilla tape' I put on it. After I woke up on the third morning I'd been trying to block the window I decided to change my plan of action. I figured some thin sheet might be better but after failing to find such a garment I started looking for alternative means. No sooner did I walk in my kitchen when I saw the massive pile of Totino's and Milwaukee's Best Light boxes did I realize the solution to my problem...So I cut up about 10 Totino's boxes and a case of Beast and constructed the most glorious blinds possible. Totino, gorilla tape and most importantly Beast light right in the middle. The only thing better than the blinds themselves will probably be Chuck McGovern's reaction when he sees them.
Dirk Nowitzki
That's the name I've given to Otis Mousequivitz's successor; the mouse who has kept me up the past several nights chewing on something in my ceiling or wall. I felt the name Dirk Nowitzki was appropriate given the fact that I'm going to take pleasure when I eventually feel joy in killing this piece of shit vermin. I had originally thought about eminem but I figured Id go with the original germanic name scheme that had started with Otis himself.
For a little backstory a few years ago when the basement was in it's prime... we had an invader as it would seem. An uninvited mouse who was seemingly uncatchable. Only after buying several mousetraps did the reality surface that it wasn't only Otis, it was his whole crew of mice. I think it's also important to mention here that this is where I developed one of my ultra-sensory perceptions.... mouse sense; the ability to sense any mouse within a certain radius. Needless to say thanks to the traps and my senses basement was rid of vermin fairly quickly...until now.
When I first heard him I was playing Burnout Paradise, no doubt being mad at the awful changes Criterion games made to one of my favorite racing games. Then I heard scampering above the ceiling tiles. It sounded loud at first, so I wasn't sure it was a mouse; but then I got my Louisville slugger and started running around following the sound slamming the ceiling tiles, in hope of injuring the rodent or at least knocking it down to the floor. Obviously ...that didn't happen. It went into stealth-mode or ran off and I eventually gave up and went back to PS-3. The next night I was awoken by a quaint sound of gnawing wood. I couldn't hear exactly where it was coming from exactly over the fan blowing on my face but I knew it was in my general vicinity and I knew I couldn't get back to sleep with that sound. So I got up and slapped the walls and bashed a bunch of ceiling tiles. This shut it up... temorarily. Over the next several nights Dirk would become increasingly bold until the last night I heard him he flat out ignored all my attacks on the barriers of my room and wouldnt let me sleep at all. He also is using the tunnels of his previous resident, Otis, according to the insulation I see lying outside one of Otis's old holes. All I know is come Monday, some traps are about to be purchased...of the fatal variety... and yet another vermin is about to get a reality check.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Bad Hair Day
I'd like to give some friendly advice as a foreword before I write the rest of this. Apparently... two Hebrew National Hotdogs, a bunch of Fritos Scoopes and 18 Beast lights as a sole meal doesn't sit well after 12 hours of nothing else but beer.. I guess these are the kind of things you have to learn through experience. Anyhow, next time I suppose I'll consume something else before I get above sweet 16 and end up wasting 2 beers through regurgitation. I'm only warning people so they dont waste alchohol, by the way.
So lately I've been going back and forth about shaving my head. It'd just be easier and Ive thought.. well why not? The sober, procrastinating version of myself has hindered this goal however so the other night when I was in my best and normal state of mind I decided make sure my haircut happened. Basically out of nowhere, I blasted a bunch of techno/dance music and went to my bathroom. I got my hair-clippers out and without literally any hesitation took a huge swipe down the center of my head, inverse mohawk style. I proceeded to do the same thing once again, then afterward I made a square on the left side of my head and just basically took a bunch of random hair off on the right side. At the time my justification for this was 'this will make sure I finish it tomorrow.'
So the next morning I wake up to take a piss, then look in the mirror by accident and start laughing my ass off. I initially thought about shaving it off then out of how horrid it looks but then I figure, "I'll do it later, when I get wasted." So start getting ready to go to the gas station to get more beer since my case basically gone, I open my backdoor to see how cold it is outside - what my beer run attire will be today... And randomly who is standing right outside my backdoor but Chuck McGovern (Who is almost never, ever anywhere but his room upstairs let alone the backyard, right outside my door; it was definately bad timing, since I was going to see how long I could keep my hairstyle without him noticing). At first he looks at me startled, then double-takes and stares at my head, obviously. Then says 'What happened to your head.' I kind of panic, totally tired, hungover and not ready for this confrontation and say something stupid 'I started cutting my hair and I didn't finish.' That's a Jarred Douglas excuse if I ever heard one.
Chuck: It looks like someone else did it (No doubt, assuming I passed out and someone did this to me.)
Me: Nope it was me.
Chuck: (doesnt say anything and looks around puzzled- thinking of what to say no doubt)
Me: (Stare at him with an akward look, he had to have been trying not to laugh)
Chuck: Oh I bet you probably got drunk or something and thought it was funny...(which is true)
Me: Shut the door in his face.
. . . . .
After I get back from the gas station getting beer....
Chuck: So you didnt finish your haircut yet.
Me: Nope.
Chuck: When are you going to finish it?
Me: Now that you mention it, I think I'm going to keep it like this... for a while.
Chuck: You're going to cut it; you're not going down to Florida like that.
Me: No. I'm not.
Chuck: You're cutting it.
Me: ...Nope (slams door - told).
Needless to say...my hairstyle is still exactly the same.
So lately I've been going back and forth about shaving my head. It'd just be easier and Ive thought.. well why not? The sober, procrastinating version of myself has hindered this goal however so the other night when I was in my best and normal state of mind I decided make sure my haircut happened. Basically out of nowhere, I blasted a bunch of techno/dance music and went to my bathroom. I got my hair-clippers out and without literally any hesitation took a huge swipe down the center of my head, inverse mohawk style. I proceeded to do the same thing once again, then afterward I made a square on the left side of my head and just basically took a bunch of random hair off on the right side. At the time my justification for this was 'this will make sure I finish it tomorrow.'
So the next morning I wake up to take a piss, then look in the mirror by accident and start laughing my ass off. I initially thought about shaving it off then out of how horrid it looks but then I figure, "I'll do it later, when I get wasted." So start getting ready to go to the gas station to get more beer since my case basically gone, I open my backdoor to see how cold it is outside - what my beer run attire will be today... And randomly who is standing right outside my backdoor but Chuck McGovern (Who is almost never, ever anywhere but his room upstairs let alone the backyard, right outside my door; it was definately bad timing, since I was going to see how long I could keep my hairstyle without him noticing). At first he looks at me startled, then double-takes and stares at my head, obviously. Then says 'What happened to your head.' I kind of panic, totally tired, hungover and not ready for this confrontation and say something stupid 'I started cutting my hair and I didn't finish.' That's a Jarred Douglas excuse if I ever heard one.
Chuck: It looks like someone else did it (No doubt, assuming I passed out and someone did this to me.)
Me: Nope it was me.
Chuck: (doesnt say anything and looks around puzzled- thinking of what to say no doubt)
Me: (Stare at him with an akward look, he had to have been trying not to laugh)
Chuck: Oh I bet you probably got drunk or something and thought it was funny...(which is true)
Me: Shut the door in his face.
. . . . .
After I get back from the gas station getting beer....
Chuck: So you didnt finish your haircut yet.
Me: Nope.
Chuck: When are you going to finish it?
Me: Now that you mention it, I think I'm going to keep it like this... for a while.
Chuck: You're going to cut it; you're not going down to Florida like that.
Me: No. I'm not.
Chuck: You're cutting it.
Me: ...Nope (slams door - told).
Needless to say...my hairstyle is still exactly the same.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Raleigh Roundtrip...
Fuck America.
The Backstory: After getting a drinking ticket (open alchohol container - although not really because had I killed the supposed open beer and it was empty, I was just holding an UNopened one in my other hand, you know trying to not to litter... saving the world) in the faggot ass city of Raleigh, I had to show up for court on 12/16, just show up, not pay a fine or anything. Essentially making me just show up for the purpose of showing up, which sucked. Who the FUCK gives a red M&M a ticket anyway...
Before the date I had dreaded thinking about it so I usually avoided doing-so as much as possible unless I was drunk, which actually is kind of ironic. My original plan was to go up and stay with E-walk, then go to court the next day; however, after I woke up on Monday feeling like shit after drinking a massive amount for the Vikings DOMINANT victory celebration I decided to hold off on that. Instead I ended up getting wasted again on the brink of my alchohol related court date and bet on my alarm clock, something which has both served and screwed me before.
Unluckily I woke up even earlier than the 7:30 and 8:30 alarms I had set for myself the next morning; since my body apparently isn't used to over 6 hours of sleep lately, I guess my BAC wasn't high enough for the normal 12.
After leaving at 9:40 and stopping along the way to chug a Code Red to keep my eyes open I ended up there at 12:40ish. Which wasn't bad time considering everything. After checking in in court I was informed that if I had no prior convictions that I qualified for some program to get me out of this. I told him I had none; although I was unsure of that at the time... anyhow I was cleared and then this ultra friendly guy came to get me about 20 minutes later and explained to me how I could get out of this without it on my record.
So he takes me up to his office, explaining to me the scenario involved. 15 hours of classes, since I'm outside his program jurisdiction that means 15 AA hours. Which should be...well, entertaining at the very least Im hoping. Then the paperwork starts. Of course he tells me this is all confidential, but if it was, what's the point in writing it down and keeping track to begin with, is he doing a survey or what? So I obviously lied.
Guy named Smith: Okay this stuff is probably unnecessary but have you ever done any drugs?
No. - Lie
Smith: How often do you drink?
Weekly - Lie, sort of...
Smith: When is the last time you drank?
Actually, last night. - True
Smith: How many did you drink?
I had a 12 pack - Lie
Smith: Wow your tolerance is high, you need to stop or cut down.
Yeah I've been trying to cut down lately actually. - Lie
Since I don't live in the appropriate county my 'sentence' to get this off my record is 15 hours of AA meetings, which I can attend at my discretion, in the next 6 months. If that weren't a joke enough in itself I have to write a paragraph statement everytime I attend one of them. Obviously the paragraphs will contain total bullshit about what I experienced in the meeting; or perhaps what I supposedly learned. The best part is that if I were being honest, the paragraph about the class would be about the same thing every week and say as soon as this class is over I'm going to buy beer and get wasted; am I still anonymous now you dumb fuck?
Another semi-interesting thing happened after that. When I went to the judge after this Smith guy got me all set she asked me a few questions, on of them being the question that seemingly everyone always asks... Yes, 'Do you have a job?' Obviously I replied no. And she sternly replied', Get one.' At first I kind of laughed to myself but after a while I realized what the fuck. I was just in court on an alchohol related charge, and she wants me to get a job to do what? Waste my time so I can buy larger quanities of alchohol easier?
Im sure theres some other bullshit that happened that I'm forgetting since it's late as shit and Im drunk as hell but I figured I'd appease the faggot who not only inspired but bitched about this shit forever. Hopefully this is what it's supposed to be since I have no fucking clue, son. First of many drunken ramblings I'm sure.
Reality Check
513
The Backstory: After getting a drinking ticket (open alchohol container - although not really because had I killed the supposed open beer and it was empty, I was just holding an UNopened one in my other hand, you know trying to not to litter... saving the world) in the faggot ass city of Raleigh, I had to show up for court on 12/16, just show up, not pay a fine or anything. Essentially making me just show up for the purpose of showing up, which sucked. Who the FUCK gives a red M&M a ticket anyway...
Before the date I had dreaded thinking about it so I usually avoided doing-so as much as possible unless I was drunk, which actually is kind of ironic. My original plan was to go up and stay with E-walk, then go to court the next day; however, after I woke up on Monday feeling like shit after drinking a massive amount for the Vikings DOMINANT victory celebration I decided to hold off on that. Instead I ended up getting wasted again on the brink of my alchohol related court date and bet on my alarm clock, something which has both served and screwed me before.
Unluckily I woke up even earlier than the 7:30 and 8:30 alarms I had set for myself the next morning; since my body apparently isn't used to over 6 hours of sleep lately, I guess my BAC wasn't high enough for the normal 12.
After leaving at 9:40 and stopping along the way to chug a Code Red to keep my eyes open I ended up there at 12:40ish. Which wasn't bad time considering everything. After checking in in court I was informed that if I had no prior convictions that I qualified for some program to get me out of this. I told him I had none; although I was unsure of that at the time... anyhow I was cleared and then this ultra friendly guy came to get me about 20 minutes later and explained to me how I could get out of this without it on my record.
So he takes me up to his office, explaining to me the scenario involved. 15 hours of classes, since I'm outside his program jurisdiction that means 15 AA hours. Which should be...well, entertaining at the very least Im hoping. Then the paperwork starts. Of course he tells me this is all confidential, but if it was, what's the point in writing it down and keeping track to begin with, is he doing a survey or what? So I obviously lied.
Guy named Smith: Okay this stuff is probably unnecessary but have you ever done any drugs?
No. - Lie
Smith: How often do you drink?
Weekly - Lie, sort of...
Smith: When is the last time you drank?
Actually, last night. - True
Smith: How many did you drink?
I had a 12 pack - Lie
Smith: Wow your tolerance is high, you need to stop or cut down.
Yeah I've been trying to cut down lately actually. - Lie
Since I don't live in the appropriate county my 'sentence' to get this off my record is 15 hours of AA meetings, which I can attend at my discretion, in the next 6 months. If that weren't a joke enough in itself I have to write a paragraph statement everytime I attend one of them. Obviously the paragraphs will contain total bullshit about what I experienced in the meeting; or perhaps what I supposedly learned. The best part is that if I were being honest, the paragraph about the class would be about the same thing every week and say as soon as this class is over I'm going to buy beer and get wasted; am I still anonymous now you dumb fuck?
Another semi-interesting thing happened after that. When I went to the judge after this Smith guy got me all set she asked me a few questions, on of them being the question that seemingly everyone always asks... Yes, 'Do you have a job?' Obviously I replied no. And she sternly replied', Get one.' At first I kind of laughed to myself but after a while I realized what the fuck. I was just in court on an alchohol related charge, and she wants me to get a job to do what? Waste my time so I can buy larger quanities of alchohol easier?
Im sure theres some other bullshit that happened that I'm forgetting since it's late as shit and Im drunk as hell but I figured I'd appease the faggot who not only inspired but bitched about this shit forever. Hopefully this is what it's supposed to be since I have no fucking clue, son. First of many drunken ramblings I'm sure.
Reality Check
513
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)