caughtintheXfire

January 14, 2008

Shhh...

be vewy, vewy qwiet.

I am sneakin' up on (and into) my target, it seems.

Not sure exactly how or when the problem I was still having at times resolved itself, nor do I care, unless it involved Paul.
If it was him who did it, then hugs all over 'im.
If it was God, or the computer fairy, or one of my cats... whatever.

I don't wanna say too much, lest I jinx it again, ya know?

Anyway...
I'm back home.

Posted by: Stevie at 11:57 AM | Comments (28) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 07, 2008

Whew man... it's almost like I'm drunk...

I am so tired (and every time I say that, to myself or out loud, I hear it sung by Ozzy [Osbourne, not my defunct kitty of the same name]), that my balance is fer shit and my brain is like a comedian on crack.

*lmao*

It's fun and thank God I can do this job pretty much in the dark/while asleep because for all intents and purposes (or "intensive purposes" as some Rhodes Scholars say *grin*), I all but am anyway.

Let's put it this way, I'm so tired my body doesn't even hurt.

Comfortably numb...
ahhhhhhh.
It's not a state of mind so much as a state of bliss.

I was up til 1am and the house is better than it's been in a while.
Not done by any means, but lots better nonetheless.

Meanwhile, in spite of being all goofy and off-balance, silly and not full-strength strong today, all I have left to do out there is the hutch grain.
Everything else is done already.
Fed both barns while "they" fixed the mixer in my milk tank, then fed the milk, then came in to file the sharp edge offa chipped nail before I hurt myself or something else widdit.

Now, all I need to do is gather the gumption to walk away from Let's Make a Deal to go do the hutch grain and, frankly, I don't wanna.
I love Let's Make a Deal.
*pouts*

Eh, screw it.
I get done quick enough out there and I'll be back in time for the cool shit on TVLand.

Gotta do the inside critter cages when I do get back in.
Let Donny get some swim time in, in the tub, while I do her's.
The roosters can roam around in the pool room, too, actually... cool.
They'll like that.
Let the bun-buns run around a bit while I do their's.... though I hafta let them out seperately.
Seems "Grace", the white one, is a BOY (ahem, Viz... dis one needs a new name, methinks) and he's the dominate one if they're out together, if ya get my drift.
Now, all I need to do is figure out whether Raven is a girl or just a little light in his loafers.
*lmbo*

Anyway... gotta do that, vacuum, mop... someday soon shampoo the carpets again... go to the store...

Also, somebody remind me to go to my insurance agent's office with a check on Wednesday, please.
And, to pay off that stupid fine on Friday, lest there be a warrant issued, because I, dolt that I am, managed to forget the first payment on the 28th because of how sucky both our checks were.

The first payment and I fuck it up.
*shakes head*
Jesus...
Anyway, screw the payments.
I'm just gonna go pay the whole damned thing on Friday.
Just get it over with.

Just don't let me forget, okay?
Email me, many times, about this.
Don't get off me about it til I do it.
*grin*
Don't take any shit from me, either.
Keep on my ass til it's done.

Thank you in advance, whomever wants this job.
*giggles*

Okay... back to work.
Then, back to house work.
Then, back to work again.
Then, to bed, to work, to house work, to work, to bed... is it me, or is there a rather dull pattern emerging here?
Hmmmmm.....?

*rolls eyes, heaves dramtic sigh*
*then, laughs again*

Peace, peeps...

Posted by: Stevie at 10:25 AM | Comments (27) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 06, 2008

I'm still cleaning...

I no longer remember when it was I last woke up, but... it's been a while.

What's today?
Right now, it's Sunday.
I was off Saturday, so whatever time I got up Saturday is how long it's been since I've slept.

I'm tired, yeah, but... also so close to one level of "done-ness" that I don't wanna stop just yet.

And, this time, it's withOUT Ephedrine.

I have one more room to de-clutter, then I really should get this chicken cooked and ready, then I need to go to bed.

I don't even think I'm gonna do the chicken tonight.
It'll keep til tomorrow, as will rebedding the critter cages.

Meanwhile, starting Private Parts for about the third time to keep me company til I'm done for the night.

Peace, y'all.

Posted by: Stevie at 11:45 PM | Comments (29) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Oh, and by the way...

I most definitely need to be dragged off and shot to smithereens.

I have lately been watching, and laughing out loud at, in fact it's on right now... God help me and I swear I do not "like" like the "father figure" (anymore... not since I heard he used to comb his pit hair before going onstage, ew)...

*looks around furitively and whispers*

hannah montana....
ssshhhhhh!!!!!!!

I know, I know...
I am fuuucked the fuck up, ain't I?

Issues, yes I know.
I have them.

Got it.

*hides face in hands*

Posted by: Stevie at 08:09 PM | Comments (33) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Man, have I missed Def Leppard...

Today, for the first time since it got really cold a month or so ago, I got to use my headphones and listen to DefLep while I worked.

It was great.
Immeasurably enhanced, no doubt, by the herbal refreshment I had partaken of prior to heading out.

The fact that I wasn't dressed in as many winter clothes as Randy Parker for the first time in weeks was pretty nice, too.

S'posed to be even warmer tomorrow.

I reeeeaaally like that.

Oh... and I've actually solved a huge problem that only a Disney-brained dipshit like me could probably even have.

The goddamned ASPCA commercial with that redheaded Sarah person moaning that song about angels in the background no longer has the power to render me a weeping heap on the floor at the first fucking note of that stupid damned song ABOUT DEATH FROM HEROIN ADDICTION.

How many friggin' animals do YOU know who've been remanded to thr custody of the ASPCA for a fuckin' heroin addiction?

Me... let's see...

NONE.

Sunsabitches... manipulating me for months, making me feel like shit, waking me from a sound sleep more than once with that stupid song... and it ain't got jackshit to do with anything remotely animal related.

So, knowing that gets me OVER IT, thank Christ, then I see the rest of the ad for what it is.
More manipulation, unless you're aware and ready for it.

All of those poor sad mangled, one-eyed, three-legged, shaking, sad eyed critters are FINE.
They're all already healed or operated on or rescued and didja know a dog'll shake sometimes coming out of anesthesia?
Howl like banshees, too, if they're of a mind.
That's always fun.

Anyway, it's blatant bullshit and now that I can get past the "having my heart forcibly ripped outta my chest 26 fuckin' times a goddamned DAY", thank you ASPCA, it's got NUTTIN' on me now.

So, bite me.
And, tell me AGAIN how the FUCK I can be doing MORE for animals than I already do.
Yeah.
Do that again, you bastards.

Fuuuuuuuuuck you.

I singlehandedly do more for more species of animals on a daily basis than sixteen zoo keepers, ya know?

So, quit mind fucking me with this shit.

Or not.

I'll be fine either way, actually.

Oh, and by the way... ASPCA?

What about farm animals or the exotics at zoos or the myraid other, less fuzzy and adorable animals, like shittin' and kickin' cows, or egg farm chickens or horse slaughter?

If ya wanna yank heart/purse strings, well then YANK the fuckin' things.

Or just STFU and stay outta my face, m'kay?

*rolls eyes*

Okay... back to the herbal refreshmemnts and the up-all-night cleaning and shit.

More later... maybe.

pee ess...
I have emailed Pixy again about these comments.
Maybe he'll get to 'em sometime today.
*shrugs*
If not, that's why God invented email, right?

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 07:47 PM | Comments (34) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

January 02, 2008

That was then, this is now...

in reference to the February post down there.

I'm back... here.

I never did stop blogging, I was just trying to do it at the "dot com" site, which I haven't been able to do since September 20, due to "server issues", whateverinthehell THAT means, besides "I'm screwed", basically.

So, then, I started writing back at Blogspot, ick, allegedly temporarily, except it has yet to end, so...
let there be screwing going on, just not up MY ass anymore, thank you ever s'much.
Let's just say "screw IT" and, thanks to Pixy, who, by the way, got back to me in less time than it took me to milkfeed the calves (as opposed to three months and counting, you stupid server people who're screwing not only me, but Paul and all his other sites) I am back to stay.

"We" may have Blacklist and commenting problems, but they get fixed a helluva lot faster than in three months (and counting).

Thank you Pixy, more than I can say.
I swear, I don't know if I wanna do a happy dance or just bawl my head off with relief.
Maybe I'll do both.
After I go finish feeding the calves, update Gut Rumbles, and post links all over God's Earth to let people know where to find me NOW.

Tell ya what... after three months of no access to the dot com site, Blacklist bullshit is gonna be easy to deal with... *knocks on skull in lieu of wood*
(*whispers* Besides, it ain't like I get the volume of comments Rob got... *snerk*)

Anyway...
back outside to finish freezing the other half of my ass off.

Peace
(And many hugs on Pixy. You rock, Dude.)

Posted by: Stevie at 10:11 AM | Comments (31) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

test...

Posted by: Stevie at 06:48 AM | Comments (27) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

February 26, 2007

"It is done."

That simple three word phrase can mean a lot of things.

In The Stand, it's what the Judge says when he closes Mother Abigail's eyes after she dies.

Sometimes, I actually get to say it about the cleaning of this house.

And, every once in a while, it can mean two things at the same time, one AWESOME!, and the other kinda sad, in a way.

And... that's the case this time.

"It is done", in this case, signifies that my new "home" is done and that I am done posting here.

Pixy, thank you more than I can say for the last three and a half years.
I apologize for the times my temper got the best of me when it came to certain "issues" and I never blamed you. Please know that.
I wish you all the luck in the world with your future endeavors.
I know you're working on some kick-ass stuff.
You're really a great guy and I appreciate having known you.
*hugs on ya*

Now, for alla y'all planning to continue to come by, change your link to Xfire to this.

Posted by: Stevie at 01:02 AM | Comments (23) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

February 25, 2007

'Zat you, Darlin'?

I don't know wtf's up at Gut Rumbles this morning, but...

everytime I went to copy and paste, my stupid computer would un-highlight the shit the instant I let off the mouse button from highlighting it.
Did that a few times.

Then, as I was publishing the posts, I noticed they were publishing rather quickly, with no usual "trackback" crap.
(There are ALWAYS "errors", just like here...)

Anyway... there weren't any error messages.

So, I get done, click to the main page to eyeball the results and...
they ain't there.

Wft?

So, I go back and look and SOMEBODY (Rob? Paul? GOD?) had set the post page to "draft".

Why?
Whom?

Warn't me.

So, I un-drafted 'em all and now I'm wondering...

Do I need to call you, Paul?
(Liiiike... was this done in preperation to move Gut Rumbles? *crosses fingers*)

Meanwhile, I'm definitely better.
Slept good last night (and this godammned friggin' CAPS KEY is about one nano second from being forcibly ripped offa this new keyboard and flung to the far reaches of whatever room I fling it into).
Had a good talk with Sr. when he woke up.
Jr.'s working, George is on his way home from Jersey.

So... off to clean the house.

Gonna get Sr. to occupy Buford while I do this, too...

Get the house clean, then get the Low Country Boil goin'.

Get the guys to go to bed at a halfway decent hour for a change and maybe there'll be cookies when they wake up.

We shall see.

And, Rob... Honey?
If that was you messin' with me at Gut Rumbles, why don'tcha just come on back over here and supervise this Low Country Boil for me instead?
*smile*

Posted by: Stevie at 10:04 AM | Comments (26) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

February 24, 2007

So, I'm at Giant...

wearing the headphones, listening to Def Lep for the first time in a while and I go in the door I never go in, down by the produce section.
(I usually go in on the other end of the store...)

I start through produce and see corn on the cob.

I hear Sr., in my head, mentioning something he wants me to make for dinner again.

I stand there, wondering if we can really afford this right now.

The CD player changes songs, goes into "Two Steps Behind" and I hear a growly Southern voice say, "G'head. Fuck the cost. It's gonna snow really bad and it'll be damn good eatin' that, watchin' that snow comin' down out the window. It'll be fine. Do it."

So, I did.

I got the shit I need to make a Low Country Boil.

I also got enough other crap so I shouldn't need to go to the store again before Spring, if I'm lucky.

Got two loads of fuel. (A "load" being two full five gallon cans...)

Sr. actually... get ready for this... better sit down... Sr. did... THE DISHES!!!!
AND... not because I asked him to OR because he read my earlier post (he doesn't read me anymore)... he did it because he wanted to cook steak for dinner and the kitchen was so screwed, he couldn't without cleaning it first.

Whatever.

He did 'em.
Yay, him.

Now, maybe, I can get the rest of the "umph" together to clean the rest of the place.

Get it clean, do the Boil- get it done and on low heat- bake some cookies, maybe...

Just wanna do everything I can think of to at least figuratively give this coming storm the finger.

Did I mention that yet?
Another damned storm, same as the last?
Lotsa snow, topped with a sheet of ice.
Lovely, eh?

S'posed to start about 9am and last til midnight.

All I want is to have this house clean, warm, and smellin' good, with good cooking happening and fresh cookies around.

I want it to be as "anti-winter" in here as humanly possible.

And...
it will be.

Meanwhile, I need to make a run to the library, feed the dogs, feed the other dogs, let them out, go get a coupla bags of scrap hay to clean the critter cages with when I do them, then I'm gonna lay down for a while and start this cleaning crap in the morning.

For starting out this day feeling as "not good yet" as I did, I've gotten a lot done.
I'm a bit worn out.
In a good way, though... for a change.

And, I forgot to mention the coolest thing I've gotten lately....

The other night, coming home from that church dinner we all went to, we stopped at Weiss' instead of Giant.
(That's another grocery store...)

We needed a coupla things and while the guys were getting them, I was being distracted by this "Easter item" I just had to have...

It's a yellow, fuzzy chick, about 8 inches tall, wearing white bunny ears, who, when you squeeze his wing, does the Chicken Dance.

Too cute.

Not quite a farting Teddy Bear, eh Dad?
But... close enough.

*grin*

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 11:45 PM | Comments (21) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Hello?

Test.
Test.

*tap, tap*

Is this fuckin' thing on?

Posted by: Stevie at 07:55 PM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Y'okay, 'cause nuthin' says "sincerity" when it comes to an apology...

like it having to be all but mandated by law to be given.

This is so dumb.

Even Sr. knows about the dreaded "had-to-be-asked-for apology/affection".

This kinda shit just isn't the same when it has to be asked for (or compelled by resolution), as opposed to simply given "because they want to" (i.e. because they actually mean it).

Maybe it's just me, but, if I were one of the people toward whom this lip service was directed, I'd be insulted.

I'm just sayin'...

Posted by: Stevie at 07:52 PM | Comments (24) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Holy shit...

Sr. just got back from doing the horses and scared the fuck outta me by coming in and saying, all wild-eyed, "You have GOT to come with me and look at this. I have never seen anything like it before it my LIFE!!!"

First thing I said was, "Okay. You've got me scared shitless. What are you talking about? Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, nothing's wrong. It's the moon..."

So, I step outside and there is the biggest ring around the moon I've ever seen.

It is HUGE.
And, crystal clear inside, too.
The sky is literally a coupla shades darker inside the circle than outside it.

And, there's what must be a bit of plane contrail across one side of it and it looks like a "Q".

So...
anybody know what this is?
Bossman says it's an old wives tale sign of snow.
He added that he hopes the size of the ring isn't relative to the amount of snow coming.
(Me too, that.)

Posted by: Stevie at 07:26 PM | Comments (22) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Oh, and DirecTv?

Kiss my bubonic butt.

Not only did I keep to our agreement to pay $120 by today, I exceeded it by paying $151 today.
That's the ENTIRE BILL, even the portion that isn't due yet and wouldn't be for a while.

So there.

Posted by: Stevie at 11:33 AM | Comments (24) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

I must be getting better...

'cause now, I'm about to become so pissed off that I can't see straight.

This house is so fuckin' fucked, it may as well be a whore's cooter.

Not that I expect any of these manly men around here to become Merry Maids or anything, but... Jesus.
When the main maid is sick for three days with God only knows what, would it KILL these buttheads to maybe do the goddamned dishes, do ya think?

Well, apparently, THEY think it would, so they took no chances at all with that.

And, it's not like the other night, Sr. didn't break out the deep fryer and smear 90% of the surfaces in there with oil.
'Cause, HE DID.

Of course, he cooked, too.
Which counts, I suppose, but not much, because oh, whoo-hoo, he can keep himself from starving.

So do maggots.
And, ya know what?
They don't do dishes either.

I suppose this is my fault.

I mean, not only did I get sick, but I've also spent the last five years trying to "un-wreck" Sr.
I've succeeded in unwrecking what the BC did, sure.
But...
I've ruined him in another way, obviously.

And, ya know what else?
Don't stand there, repeating "I love you" like a short-circuiting robot when I'm standing in the midst of a totalled kitchen, searching in vain for a frickin' cuppa coffee.

Number one, I don't believe you.
Number two, shut up.
Number three, PROVE IT by not making ME hafta cleaning up three days of other's people's cumulative DRECK!

If you love me so much (at all), why then does the kitchen look like it does?

The rest of the house put together ain't as bad.

And, NOBODY (Bossman) can blame it on Buford.
He's been with me the entire time.
Behaving very well, too, I might add and just did.

Goddamned dog has more sense than these.....

*sigh*

So.
No more barfing after that last time that I kinda asked for, in a way.
I've eaten a coupla little things a coupla times.
Haven't really regretted it yet.
Although... how to put this....

The "barfman" has decided to implement the "down" aspect of the internal elevator.
Make that the "express elevator", IF ya know what I'm saying.

Puts a whole new twist on trying to storm through the crowd of critters sleeping on the stairs enroute to the library.

As in: When I say move, fuckin' MOVE!!!!!!!!!

Yes.
I have entered the "fear of farting" phase.

"Is it a fart? Is it not?"

"In bed" is no place to try finding out, lem'me tell ya.

And, no I haven't done that, thank all that is good and holy, but only because I decided early on that it'd be worth walking to the bathroom just to fart, if that's how it turned out.

And, it hasn't yet.

Every time I get that feeling, I take the walk and, ultimately, am glad I did.

Can't wait til this is over with.
Hope I'm in a size 4 by then, too.

Oughta be.
Jeezus.

Anyway... still alive.
Kinda almost pissed about the house AND looking for advice/arguements about why I should or shouldn't be, so if you have any thoughts on this, let me know them.
If I do kick ass around here, I'd at least like to be correct in doing so.
Back still feels like it's been kicked around by pissed off lumberjacks for a solid week.
Headache has pissed off.
Mostly.
Except for when I saw the kitchen...
And, *knocks on skull*, no more barfing, YAY!!!!!!!!!

Now, about being pissed at men for not having the what? foresight? heart? giving a damn? whatever... to keep up with shit for me while I'm dying...

Be pissed at that, or not?
And, if not, WHY NOT?

Lay it on me.
Save a life....

Posted by: Stevie at 10:51 AM | Comments (19) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

February 23, 2007

I was gonna call 'bullshit' on that last episode, but since it seems to have worked...

I'll not only let it slide, I'll let it stand as proof that God does indeed work in mysterious ways.
'Cause, see, I can remember right before the last time it happened (so far), I had asked God to please make it go away, whatever it is.

Shortly thereafter, I was Regan in The Exorcist once again.

**Well, okay... maybe not that bad, but that's what I was thinking of... during.**

Since then, I've been fine.
Only had a cup or two of coffee.
I've gotten a shower and washed my hair, brushed my teeth (again) and I feel okay for now.

I'm about to make my bi-weekly mad dash to the bank.

Might get myself some of that electrolite shit again, if I remember.

Need to get fuel for the heater, too.

It's okay now, but tonight it'd get pretty frosty without it.

Also, if I survive the trip to the bank okay, I might oughta really clean some things down here.
The Boss saw Buf again today for a split second.
Didn't say anything yet, though...
*crosses fingers*

Anyway, the house not being wrecked would be a help in any "he's a good dog" arguements I may need to make someday.
*hopes not, really*

Meanwhile, I need to go dry my hair.

Then, drive.

ugh

I'll be back...

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 12:49 PM | Comments (398) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

Well, I ain't doin' that anymore...

Nope.
No way.

I am never eating again.

The last two times I have, I have barfed within about 10-12 hours.
And, not to be too graphic or anything... let's just say that it hasn't been changed much in all that time, sitting in my stomach.

First time was around 4pm, yesterday afternoon.
I'd eaten around 8/9 am or so.

Then, I ate again around, what? 7/7:30pm?
And, guess what I just did again about 20 minutes ago?

Ugh.

I am officially sick of this, now.
No pun intended.

If eating causes barfing, fuck eating from now on.

Know what I mean?

Otherwise, for the most part, I'm okay.
Not as sore as I was, I can cough without my skull exploding... shit like that.
And, both times, after I'd... you know-ed... I felt fine.
Not hot, sweaty, weak and alla that shit.
Just "fine".

So, I don't know what the hell it is that's got me, but... it's different.

And, if I do "that" one more goddamned time, I am gonna be soooo pissed.
I frickin' HATE that.

Bleh.

Posted by: Stevie at 01:36 AM | Comments (17) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

February 22, 2007

Do me a favor, somebody?

Kill me.
Please.

Or, at least invent suspended animation and use me as the guinea pig.

Everything still aches.
Shoulders, neck, head... ribs... and coughing? Feels like I'm being shot in the head from the inside.

I still have half an appetite.
Still drinking coffee.
But, also have water and diet root beer sitting there.
And, as far as coffee goes, I'm not sucking that down at my usual rate.

But, "at all" is good.
If I don't want coffee, I'm dying.
If I don't want Mickey D's, call the coroner.

Stood in the shower earlier.
Hot water felt good.
Patchouli and vanilla soap smelled good.
Never did remove the half-assed pony tail I threw my hair into.

I look like shit.

In fact, I seriously don't know right now if I look or feel worse.

I know I look like hell and I feel like a large wound/bruise/ache, so it's probably pretty close to even, actually.

After I stood in the shower a while, I felt better enough to want coffee.
Then, I remembered Gut Rumbles.
And, all these animals down here who probably needed to be fed.
So... here I am.

Sure enough, everybody needed something and this computer was having a nervous breakdown at first, too.

First it gave me the blue screen of death about fifteen times, being an ass.
I shut it down with control, alt, delete and then it decided that the modem wasn't installed, so I shut it down again and left it off for a few.

When I tried it again, it was fine.

So, basically, I "fixed" the stupid computer, fed everybody, took care of GR and now I'm waiting for the Boss to go somewhere so I can pee the puppy.

And, speaking of peeing... that's something I need to look into doing right quick.

I kinda feel like, since I can move, I oughta clean something....
Like, maybe moving around some will help my back.
And, it kinda wouldn't hurt for the house not to go to hell, just in case the Boss does pop in for some reason, especially with Buf still being in here.
Though, he is spending 90% of his time upstairs with me...
Buford, that is.
Not the Boss.

Oh, I can just see that.
Me and the Boss, watching TVLand, gettin' baked.
Suuure.
*giggling at the thought*

Anyhoo... I'm still alive and still not particularly thrilled about it.

And, I'll be back later... sometime... soon... I hope.

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 08:30 AM | Comments (19) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

February 21, 2007

Hi. I feel like complete shit. How're you?

Remember the other day, when my morning kinda sucked and I hoped it wasn't a precursor to how the rest of the day was gonna go?

Well... it was.
And, it took more than 24 hours, too.

After that post that morning, the day itself wasn't so bad.
Til I "decided" to make a Bucks run.
And my alternator died alongside the Pa. turnpike.
And, I spent about 2 hours in the bitter cold waiting to get towed to a Pep Boys and while George then fixed it.
(I had him with me. There's a whole story behind that that I currently feel too close to death to get into right now.)
As bad as alla that was, there are so very many ways it coulda been ever so much worse...

We made it home around midnight.
The "run" itself was a success because my Bucks guy came to me with the reason I went there.
He met us at Pep Boys.
He's a sweetheart.
There's more to that story, too...

I stayed up and did some wash and took care of some stuff and fell asleep on the couch for a while.

Woke up to finding out that the Boss has indeed "mentioned" Buford.
Didn't say "Get rid of him".
Just doesn't want him in the house.
I understand where he's coming from, I agree the dog will be too big to be a house dog soon and I will handle it.
Just not right now.
And, yes, there's more to that one, too.

Also woke up to the damned TV being off yet again.
*sam elliot look*
If it wasn't for the fact that I had talked about that on the way home the night before and told George that I knew I owed 'em, but I had til the 25th, which would work out perfectly since "we" get paid on the 24th, I mighta let it slide.
But, these turds keep moving up my "date" and I just had enough yesterday.

After a coupla phone calls and pretty much selling my soul to those devils, I did get the damned TV back on and I don't hafta pay 'em til the got-damned 25th, but, God he'p me if I screw that up.
Not positive, but I think if I do, the dude I had on the phone is gonna come here and kick my ass.
Or something like that.

And, as of waking up about 45 minutes ago, I say "Let him come kill me, 'cause then I might feel better."

I feel like shit, y'all.

Stuffy, coughy, tired, achy, don't want coffee even-y... ugh.

The following things on my body hurt:

shoulders
neck
chest
eyes
back
and, hell... even my hair hurts.
Or, would if it could, I'm sure.

I feel like a used, wadded up wash cloth who got none of the "massage" parts of the "being wadded up prior to being thrown in the corner" that should have happened during the wadding process.
Naturally...

But anyway...

Ever since that post, things have happened that I just didn't need to happen, but, by the grace of God and few friends, I have been able to successfully "manage" it all.
So far.
*raps on aching skull insteada, and because I don't have any right here, wood*

The only "harsh" part is this oncoming cold.
I managed to avoid the cold that Sr. got from the Bosses son when the parlor was all f-ed up and they had to be in close quarters, only to turn around and get one of my own last night, I guess.

Whatever.

My next, and as of right now ONLY, goal is to live til Friday and make it to the bank on time.
Lest the DirecTv dude show up here wearing a black leather jacket, a black fedora, and NOT be like Rocky Balboa and let me offa da hook like Rocky did that guy on the docks who owed Gazzo.
That guy tried to get Rock to take his coat, remember?

I don't think this guy's gonna want a coat, either.

My liver, maybe...

Hmmm... wonder if I could distract him with alla that nasty-assed beef liver we have in the freezer...

Ach.
Best not to hafta find out, I suppose.

All I hafta do is live through three more days and get to the bank before 3pm on Friday.
(And, make sure THEY'RE on the right day, and that they post it right away, and blah, blah, blah.)

And, I also hafta stay awake now about another half hour or so to get Sr. up for work and rather than sit here boring y'all to tears, I think I'mina go get a cuppa coffee and go to the library.
Or, maybe a great big huge glass of ice water...
Or both.

I'll be back sooner or later.
Probably closer to "later".

Peace
(And, thank you, God, for how well alla this extraneous horseshit has worked out. Can You make this cold the fastest one in the history of humanity, by any chance?
Here's hoping...
me)

Posted by: Stevie at 03:35 AM | Comments (6368) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

February 20, 2007

A year ago today...

was the last trackback I've gotten.

And... wanna know what?
If it's the last one EVER, that's fine wit' me.

Posted by: Stevie at 05:23 AM | Comments (3124) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)

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