It's a FUCK YOU day!!!! I haven't done a FUCK YOU rant in a longgg time, but it's time. It IS the day. Actually, yesterday was the day, but it's run over into today.
The biggest FUCK YOU I have is for Discount Tire and Wheel. FUCK YOU, DISCOUNT TIRE AND WHEEL!
I went to get my beautiful (messy), gorgeous, sexy car inspected yesterday and the guys at the Quicky Lube (KY or Astroglide?) place wouldn't gimme a sticker until I got 2 new tires. Well, I knew that was coming, I just didn't want to think about it.
So I trudged over to Discount Tire and Wheel where I was greeted by a very sweet countrified man with an out-of-control goatee. He was cute in a "Yes, ma'am, where would you like me to lick you?" way. There were dogs running about (King Charles Spaniels) greeting the customers and generally making the man-zone estrogen friendly. King Charles Spaniels take all the penis out of a tractor tire. I can now say that for sure.
So I order my tires..."good but not TOO good". The cheapest ones in stock were $89.00 a pop. Whatever. YES, I'll take 'em or I don't get my sticker you fuckers. I sit, I read The Professor's House, I play with the dogs, I listen to the worker's string of "ma'ams" in the background.
$211.00 and 2 tires, a rotation, and a balancing act later, I was on the road.
WITH INCREASED ROAD NOISE AND A CAR THAT FEELS LOOSER THAN A HUNDRED-YEAR-OLD WHORE!
I don't know if I've just gotten used to riding around on bald tires (if so, they handle MUCH better than new ones) or if there's a problem. I really do not want to go back to that god-forsaken place even though I could do with a few more ma'ams and asking the boy his sign.
TV: Tim "I Am Gay But I Am Still Acting Like I Bang Faith" McGraw
Listening: "White Wedding Dress"...Boy Sets Fire
Reading: That's a whole other rant.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Uneventfulness
Nothing going on. I should be reading or writing, but I'm sitting and blogging. The majority of yesterday and today have been anticlimactic. Yesterday, class, home, work. Today work, home, work.
Last night's SHITFEST of an American Idol was the only excitement 'round our house. My cousin and his wife and three kids came over to the house to pick up a loaner vehicle while his is in the shop. They had to come over during American Idol. While I was in the room with the TV, turned up to what should've been a decent listening level, the kids (14, 10, and 6) took it upon themselves to be obnoxious and limit my ability to enjoy the shittiness of last night's show. I only partially enjoyed the shittiness of Kelly Pickler, ManDIVA(*so* clever...haw-haw), Ace, Taylor, Lisa Tucker, Chris, and someone else, I think. I got enough to realize it was BAD last night, but I didn't truly appreciate most of the badness until the replays.
I just can't help but wonder, does Bucky's mom secretly giggle to herself that she named him THAT name, and he can eat corn through a picket fence?
Listening: "American Girl"...Counting Crows
Last night's SHITFEST of an American Idol was the only excitement 'round our house. My cousin and his wife and three kids came over to the house to pick up a loaner vehicle while his is in the shop. They had to come over during American Idol. While I was in the room with the TV, turned up to what should've been a decent listening level, the kids (14, 10, and 6) took it upon themselves to be obnoxious and limit my ability to enjoy the shittiness of last night's show. I only partially enjoyed the shittiness of Kelly Pickler, ManDIVA(*so* clever...haw-haw), Ace, Taylor, Lisa Tucker, Chris, and someone else, I think. I got enough to realize it was BAD last night, but I didn't truly appreciate most of the badness until the replays.
I just can't help but wonder, does Bucky's mom secretly giggle to herself that she named him THAT name, and he can eat corn through a picket fence?
Listening: "American Girl"...Counting Crows
Monday, March 27, 2006
Wah wah wah (Charlie Brown's teacher)
I awoke this morning with snakes at the ready to sprout from my head. Medusa would've looked like Lamb Chop next to me today. I have no idea why I had such an aptitude for bitchtitude, but I fuckin' did.
First thing, given the plague of sleeplessness going around the department, I stayed up entirely too late watching Proof last night and reading and generally wasting time and straining my eyes for no good reason. The alarm blast sounded at 7am and I fell out of bed, hopped in the shower, emerged still comatose and screwed around on the computer until it was time to NOT put on makeup, throw on unattractive clothes, and take the dog to the vet for his weekly blood sugar tests.
I rolled on to C'vegas only to find that the same traffic light that's been blinking for a week is STILL BLINKING. This is the stoplight that I must pass through to get to school every morning, and that most of the commuters must pass through, thus causing one big angry mob of screaming flip'offishness and it's really tempting to run over one of the construction workers. It would ruin my underside spoilers or I'd be all over it like a buzzard on a dead possum.
I just didn't wanna be at work today. I just didn't. Nothing against my peeps or even the little Normans that come into work, but I just didn't wanna be there.
Stopped by to talk to a prof which should've made me feel better, but it just deflated me. He liked the paper he gave back, he brought me some books to assist in my search for divine wisdom on the next paper. I went back to the WC, read through 5 pages of his suggestions, promptly slit my throat with a rusty nail, and I'm blogging to you all from hell.
I found myself saying to Beth (and others at various times), "If anyone crosses me today, they're going to lose a ball."
The highlight of the day:
Little barely-English-speaking man comes in. He's been there before. I very slick-n-smoothly slid off my chair while he was signing in because the man is afflicted with the death breath. This is not a simple case of a wayward onion exhale or some such, this is the result of a belly full of dead mice. I disappeared into the break room and re-emerged once Goose had taken the job of helping him with a paper. I walked back over and perched in one of my favorite chairs, back turned to Mr. Dragon Breath, looked at Jeremy who said, "Good call." I replied, "Well, there aren't any peppermints left around here." We laughed until we cried, and it just wasn't that funny. But it was. It was a cosmic laughing-at-that-which-is-unfunny connection...doesn't happen very often. It made my jaws cramp.
Now I need to be reading. I haven't said this in a long time, but I'm really tired (and it's only 11:00!).
First thing, given the plague of sleeplessness going around the department, I stayed up entirely too late watching Proof last night and reading and generally wasting time and straining my eyes for no good reason. The alarm blast sounded at 7am and I fell out of bed, hopped in the shower, emerged still comatose and screwed around on the computer until it was time to NOT put on makeup, throw on unattractive clothes, and take the dog to the vet for his weekly blood sugar tests.
I rolled on to C'vegas only to find that the same traffic light that's been blinking for a week is STILL BLINKING. This is the stoplight that I must pass through to get to school every morning, and that most of the commuters must pass through, thus causing one big angry mob of screaming flip'offishness and it's really tempting to run over one of the construction workers. It would ruin my underside spoilers or I'd be all over it like a buzzard on a dead possum.
I just didn't wanna be at work today. I just didn't. Nothing against my peeps or even the little Normans that come into work, but I just didn't wanna be there.
Stopped by to talk to a prof which should've made me feel better, but it just deflated me. He liked the paper he gave back, he brought me some books to assist in my search for divine wisdom on the next paper. I went back to the WC, read through 5 pages of his suggestions, promptly slit my throat with a rusty nail, and I'm blogging to you all from hell.
I found myself saying to Beth (and others at various times), "If anyone crosses me today, they're going to lose a ball."
The highlight of the day:
Little barely-English-speaking man comes in. He's been there before. I very slick-n-smoothly slid off my chair while he was signing in because the man is afflicted with the death breath. This is not a simple case of a wayward onion exhale or some such, this is the result of a belly full of dead mice. I disappeared into the break room and re-emerged once Goose had taken the job of helping him with a paper. I walked back over and perched in one of my favorite chairs, back turned to Mr. Dragon Breath, looked at Jeremy who said, "Good call." I replied, "Well, there aren't any peppermints left around here." We laughed until we cried, and it just wasn't that funny. But it was. It was a cosmic laughing-at-that-which-is-unfunny connection...doesn't happen very often. It made my jaws cramp.
Now I need to be reading. I haven't said this in a long time, but I'm really tired (and it's only 11:00!).
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Random
She says, "I feel like I'm gonna crack open like..."
He says, "Like what?"
She replies, "An egg....or one of those really smelly french cheeses that ooze out everywhere when you cut them."
*********************************************
I found a pair of his socks a few days ago. I just opened my sock drawer and there they were. After a year and a half. Almost two years. Whatever. I've opened my sock drawer a thousand times and never run into them, but there they were. Grey heels, grey toes...a wrong fit.
*********************************************
I fucking hate kids riding their bikes in my driveway. That's why it's MY DRIVEWAY.
*********************************************
I'm still burping up the Mexican food from lunch. Mmm, flautas.
*********************************************
My guilty pleasure song of the moment is that Bon Jovi song about going home. Whatever it's called. I only like the version with Jennifer Nettles (Sugarland) though. I feel like that should alleviate the guilt. Any song with a line about a "blind dog without a bone" should not make me shimmy.
*********************************************
Better song:
Making my way uptown and down
Seeing familiar places
And faces in my pile of coffee grounds
The days are better
The nights are still so lonely
Sometimes I think I'm the only cab on the road
He says, "Like what?"
She replies, "An egg....or one of those really smelly french cheeses that ooze out everywhere when you cut them."
*********************************************
I found a pair of his socks a few days ago. I just opened my sock drawer and there they were. After a year and a half. Almost two years. Whatever. I've opened my sock drawer a thousand times and never run into them, but there they were. Grey heels, grey toes...a wrong fit.
*********************************************
I fucking hate kids riding their bikes in my driveway. That's why it's MY DRIVEWAY.
*********************************************
I'm still burping up the Mexican food from lunch. Mmm, flautas.
*********************************************
My guilty pleasure song of the moment is that Bon Jovi song about going home. Whatever it's called. I only like the version with Jennifer Nettles (Sugarland) though. I feel like that should alleviate the guilt. Any song with a line about a "blind dog without a bone" should not make me shimmy.
*********************************************
Better song:
Making my way uptown and down
Seeing familiar places
And faces in my pile of coffee grounds
The days are better
The nights are still so lonely
Sometimes I think I'm the only cab on the road
...OK, maybe not better, but it's not Bon Jovi.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
