December 25, 2004
Frohe Weihnachten....
Posted by: Stevie at 12:15 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 23, 2004
Alrighty then... Let's just get this the fuck over with, shall we?
*snerk*
Nice attitude for Christmas, ain't it?
Posted by: Stevie at 08:29 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 22, 2004
You guys are so cool...
I haven't felt all that "wonderful" today. I think the MDF (Martian Death Flu) has maybe one or two threads left in me, but it's no where near as bad as it was.
I'm still getting the occasional splitting headache, my temper sucks mud and I feel kinda "too warm", but if I turn the heat down, I freeze.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:22 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 21, 2004
Hi, I'm so pissed off I can't see straight. How're YOU?
Now, before I loose the demons in my brain, let me state now that any racist remarks are meant toward the cunt I'll be referring to specifically, not so much her nationality. Not my fault the whole fucking industry is fulla the bean-dip shitting, greedy wenches. AND, it's probably just a coincidence that none of them speak ENGLISH (except to be able to bitch) and they all have black hair and permanant tans.
I'm just saying....
Posted by: Stevie at 06:46 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Another one bites the dust...
My least "favorite" Queen song.
I love Freddie, et al, but that song is stupid.
Unless, of course, it's being played at some poor bastards castration wedding. THEN, it has it's time and place and is not only bearable, but actually makes sense.
Called off.
Called off 10 minutes before her shift started.
Called off 10 minutes before her shift started on SUNDAY.
And....
she wasn't even the one who made the call. Bad. Badbadbad. Number one.... ya don't call off.
You ESPECIALLY don't do it ten minutes before your SUNDAY shift and by having another person do it for ya. She was the last person I expected to do something so stupid, on so many levels. I keep wondering, though... what if she has what I had?
Well, if she does, being fired is the LAST thing she gives a damn about right now. Uuummm... Have I mentioned that this place (the restaurant) is NUTS? Well... it is.
Still cool so far, but nuttier by the day. Oh, and I hate HATE one of the cooks. Such a fuckin' PRICK bastard he is. Of course, PERFECTION will do that to a person. Dickhead. I've taken to "listening" to his "corrections" of the way I order, nodding my head, then saying "I hate you" before I leave the line. He has yet to even hear me. I think the toast guy did once, though. He had a grin in his eyes yesterday, the next time I went back to the window after I'd done that. I'm not gonna go outta my way, one way or the other, over this loser. BUT... I get fired or quit... his ass is mine and I WILL make sure he and everybody in that restaurant knows it before I leave.
And, if he even THINKS of using the word "cunt" to me.... heh heh heh... I will own, mount on a plaque and display BALLS. His balls. Tiny as they probably are.
I might hafta display them under magnifying glass, but I'd do it.
I've also decided that he has a thumb dick that's BENT.
Up.
So when he looks down at it, it's like looking in a mirror. I don't often hate men, but, like I've said before... if even I can't find something nice about a guy, ya gotta know he's pure trash.
And...
This asshole is. He's off today, thank Christ.
Hope he either schedules his cranio-rectal surgery for today, or dies.
I really don't care which. In other news.... the Martian Death Flu has left the building.. I mean, the body. Finally. Hopefully never to return. At least, not in this lifetime. I got the house clean again, yay.
New vacuum kicks butt, too. The horses are in their new stalls.
They seem to like them. Eric says Storm is kinda pissed off, because this one isn't as big as the one he was in, but it will be warmer, so he'll get over it, I'm sure. Is it Spring yet? Ahhh fuck. I may as well go start getting ready to go in. This is sad, but true: Thank Gawd I'm off tomorrow. Knowing that makes today ever so much more do-able.
The longer I work there and the more I think about it, the more sure I am that I do not want, now or ever, to work 4 or more days a week. I'm in awe of those who pull 6 and 7 days a week. How they do that, I'll never know. I don't even wanna know....
Ugh. Not me, man. No way. Anyway.... gotta go get ready. Y'all have a good day. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 07:53 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 18, 2004
Hey.
Holy Jeezus, do I feel like hell still.
Sad part is... "hell" is actually an improvement.
Then, Wednesday, we began alternating freezing with hotter'n the gates of hell. Fun.
The entire time, it hurt to cough, move my eyes, breathe, sit, stand, lay down... Gawd. Right now I feel like... Well, picture this. You have a big ol piece of tin foil. Ya crumple it into a ball, then flatten it back out. Every fold, every crease, is a sharp pain. That's my back, hips and chest right now. Head too, sometimes, but not right this second. I actually went to work Thursday. I still can't believe I did that. I spent yesterday in bed, suckin' down water, iced tea and NyQuil gel caps. I've had to shower twice, when the fever made me sweat, then smell like a goat... This ain't no cold.
This ain't even no flu known to man.
What I have, here, folks is DEATH. I may live thru it, but it is Death itself. Which leads me to... Sorry I got shitty the other day. This bullshit Death-thing started at almost the same time as I got the rug yanked out from under me and I was PISSED. Besides, I know what I hafta do. Have all along.
I just don't like it this time.
But... I simply cannot allowed such juvenile, meaningless horseshit to put Eric at risk. One nosy, bored or rookie cop and we're fucked, because of that bullshit back in Jersey.
And, I don't have $25,000+ to bail him out. (Jersey won't release a guy for past support without the whole arrearage being paid off... stupid, huh?) (And, for the record, it's not CHILD he's behind on. It's "spousal", which nobody really cares about, but still... ya know?)
I truly didn't appreciate that, Asshole-who-did-it.
How mother fucking DARE you?
Scum. Anyway.... I'm still alive... so far. This house is so fucked up, it'd really be easier to burn it and build new. Got that new vacuum and ain't even been able to USE use it, yet. I did get to do a four-square foot area the night I got it. Gonna be a while before I can use it now, too, I see after taking a peek around me. *pout* If my back would just knock it off, I'd be nearly fine. Eric suggested Ben Gay yesterday, but I was hot enough then, thanks. Think I may try that today. The heat from the water bed feels good, but if I lay down any longer, my spine is gonna snap. And, oh my Gawd... one of the times I was in the bathroom, I heard one of the roosters making "alarm" noises. I get up, stagger out here to see what's wrong and he was outta his cage, standing in the kitchen. In a house fulla cats. Who never touched him. I was amazed about 6 times at once. Thank God it was Lil Foghorn. That's the littler white one who doesn't mind being held and petted and shit. Cogburn, the bigger red guy, will submit to being held, but he also tries to peck ya, unless you cover your fingers with your sleeve when you reach for him. Just what I needed. Loose roosters. *siiiigh* Heh... one thing that's been kinda cool about being so sick.... I've lost weight and I'm so dehydrated that there's not one bit of edema in my shins or ankles. I have my racehorse ankles back. AND, my black jeans were loose Tuesday, BEFORE all this shit, so I can't wait to put 'em on again now. Well, okay, he's in for breakfast, so it's Ben Gay time.
Talk to ya's later.
I hope. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 10:04 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 17, 2004
I'd be honored....
Got an email a little bit ago.
Was asked to take a look and let 'im know if I was interested in helping.
In fact, thank you for letting me.... I think supporting our troops this way is a wonderful idea. (Actually, it's even giving me ideas involving Nam Vets and "Thank you"s and such...) Okay... now, I'm gonna keep this post at the top til the 17th. That's the "deadline". Also, I'll be putting mine in the EP when I get it done. Go check it out and let's give SlagleRock's buddy several duffelbags of support to take with him for our guys.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:05 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 15, 2004
Okay. Now I have a real problem...
And, I don't like what I know to do.
I'm going to be as generic and "general" as possible in describing this situation. I'd almost rather not even mention it, but it's just so bam! boom! back and forth, that I feel whiplashed as well as beyond pissed. Jeezus. Not even sure how to start this... Okay. Lemme ask ya's this... if someone asked you whom, between Eric and I, they should even TRY fucking with, who would you choose?Me? Right? I mean, this is not news, is it? That if you fuck with Eric, you are dead to me? Well, this one person, who oughta goddamned know better anyway, I didn't specifically say that to. Haven't known him long enough yet to have had that conversation, ya know?
So, he did.
He, for a reason I do not have knowledge of, chose Eric to hide behind and lie about. Just the fact that I'm using the pronoun "he" is hurting my brain, this is SUCH a catty female cunt thing to do... God. I feel so fragmented with this shit... I never did tell him exactly how bad an idea it is to fuck with Eric, but then, he didn't seem like the kind of person such a conversation would be urgent to have with. (Man, that sentence just hurt my head , too....)
So, I kinda wish I could forgive him for that reason.
Then, there's the whole "It's a guy" thing, too.
But, ya know what? I can't.
And, right now, I kinda don't want to, either. I also wish I could forgive this because of our mutual friend, but, again... not this. Anything short of fucking with Eric and we can negotiate.
But... not this. *And, for the record, I in no way, shape, form or fit of rage, blame said mutual friend for this. I am beyond certain he did NOT have his hand shoved up this dude's ass, working his mouth like a ventriloquist's dummy. Besides, said mutual friend would cut his own tongue outta his head before he'd pull a stunt like this, so he had not a nickle in it.* For this dude to have arbitrarily pulled Eric's name outta his ass, to save his own ass, sucks. Especially when coupled with the fact that Eric has NEVER been anything but good to this guy. In fact, I heard him tell the guy that he didn't need to ask to use the bathroom, or for sodas or shit like that. He'd been here enough times to know where that stuff is and to help himself. So, he did. And then some. Now, I no longer trust him and the respect I had for him feels like so many darts, all shoved in my ass. So.
Now what? What would you do? Updated @6:00am 12/16....
Gee, all the insight and HELP I'm gettin' with this is.... fuckin' sad. 155 people a day and not one word. *yawn*
Thanks.
Fuck this. I'll handle it myself and just keep this episode in mind for future reference.
I really have learned a lot.
Yes.
From the staggering silence.
See ya's.
Posted by: Stevie at 06:13 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Dear Gawd....
Am I dead, or do I just wish I was?
Man, I feel like hell itself and have for a coupla days now.
Oughta be fun. Hell, it's only one day and if I look deathly enough, maybe they'll sent me home on their own. Either way, I think I can handle it and just take the next few days after that to go to sleep and not get up.
But... only if I get this house clean, first. That's driving me nuts, too.
Needs to be done... bad. Well, I turned the heat up and took a few aspirin a while ago, so I guess I'd better give it shot.... See how far I get. Pray for me to either get better or just go one and die, okay?
S'up to you which one.
*grin* Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 04:51 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 14, 2004
Okay... I feel better, now...
Had a pretty cool day at work, but even better, I finally have my "critters" in the house, so they won't freeze to death.
The critters I'm referring to this time are two roosters and two rabbits and Walter, the pigeon. This is in addition to the rat and parakeet that were already in this room, not to mention the 94 cats, or however damned many it is these days. Now, I need to keep moving long enough to go to the store for some shit and finish cleaning and then... Then, I'll either feel the rest of the way better or be unconscious... whichever. I am so tired and sore already, even my hair hurts. Okay.Gonna go make the bed before he gets in it.
Go to the store.
Finish cleaning.
Croak. Sounds like a wiener to me. Peace, y'all....
Posted by: Stevie at 10:00 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 13, 2004
Well, that put a whole new spin on "Get 'er done"....
Larry the Cable Guy's "motto" has entirely different meaning to me now than I bet it does even him...
I'll bet not even he, goofy as he is, would use it as a mantra to shovel about 4 tons of dirt, no exaggeration necessary.
I asked.
We used 7 or 8 loads. Either way, thass alotta damned dirt. And...
I'm still alive.
So far. It's a lot better out there, too.
And, can ya stand it... it rained for a few minutes less than 5 minutes after we got done. I just stood there, staring upward, not believing this shit. I had JUST asked God to gimme a break with the rain so that shit can dry out a day or two, and boom.
Yeah, thanks, Dude. Helps a lot.
*rolls eyes*
(Wise-ass, ain't He?) I was beat like a redhaired step-child when we got done. While Eric took care of the horses, I whomped together a quick, but really good, dinner. Made pork chops and had mac & cheese in the frig and some garlic limas and peas, so we were set. Only bad thing is... soon as I got done eating, I crashed. I know eating then going to bed is beyond stupid, but, fuck man, I was fallin' down tired, so screw it.
I'll run it off today at work.
I know it. Plus, I'm up already and this house needs to be beaten into submission before I go in. So, that'll help, too. As for the horse stalls...
Thick mats go down next, then the bedding. I know what the mats are made of, but again... it's escaping me for now. Some kinda rubbery shit they make gloves and boot liners out of for warmth. It feels almost squishy... the texture isn't regular rubber, but similar and when, in about 3 minutes, the name comes to me, I'll get it out... what IS it called? Damn.... I do know it's NOT polyurethane. Something like that, though... (And, no brain (you baked little thang), it's not Kevlar, either, so stop saying that, okay?)
Oh, and when it's used for gloves and shit, it's about a quarter inch or less, thick. This time, in mat-form, it'll be about 3 or 4 inches thick.
Da fuck's it called? Damn... Whatever.
If there's a post later of just one chemical-sounding word and a buncha exclamation points, you'll know why, right? I'll probably think of it in the middle of ordering someone's eggs... *giggle* Anyhoo... guess I oughta get started on this house. Part of what I need to do is finish washing my uniform. Got a few dishes and some straightening and maybe a little vacuuming. Only vacuum I have now is George's noisy, non-sucking monster that only works on carpeting, so that may not go so well. The dude whose shop-vac I had needed it back, so now I hafta go buy a REAL vacuum again. I want the same kind I had before. I forget what brand that is too, but I know what it looks like, so I'll find it.
It's blue.
And little.
And, the bags are a pain to find, but it works really well.
And, it's just under $50. Yeah... need to go start the house, for sure.
But, FIRST....
Lil trip to the library. What?
TMI? Sorry.
*grin* Peace, y'all...
*giggles*
Posted by: Stevie at 04:48 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 12, 2004
Pray for me, pleeease.....
Eric, too, but for vastly different reasons.
(Neither of which is a true emergency, so relax...)
It's getting ridiculous out there.
Mud, mud, mudmudmud. That's allll it is out there. Wall to wall mud. Deep, suck-yer-boots-off MUD. With a few standing puddles thrown in for good measure. Strangely enough, the dogs are pretty damned clean, except for their feet, of course. But, still... enough is enough.
I'm the one, after all, that has to slog thru that mess to feed 'em. I'm (way beyond) tired of it, now. And, me being the one who feeds 'em all the time, leads to: I'm gonna be the only one able to go in there and spread "whatever" around. They'd jump up on anybody else, with their huge, drippy, muddy feet and I can't ask anybody to do that.
They'll stay offa me, because they already KNOW to. *grin* We're gonna be using some kinda sand/dirt/mulch/straw shit, I guess. Whatever it takes to sop it up out there. Eric needs your prayers too, for two reasons now. Number one and foremost, he needs all the help he can get because I seem to be channelling not only George Carlin, but Roseanne, too. And, now, as I'm typing this, he's explaining a movie plot to me.
Oddly enough, I am able to track both at the same time, but, again... 'still...'. Okay. Now he REALLY is gonna need some divine intervention. He has this ANNOYING AS HELL habit of becoming "Mr. Negative-Man" when he feels it's necessary. Like now.
He keeps coming up with these insane things that can go wrong with this project and describing in detail just how hard it's gonna be and I'm about to kick his ass.
I've already told him once, earlier, to cut the shit.
Now, I just hadda do it, again. One more time.... *FLICK*
Right on the forehead. Pissant. Okay.
Guess I oughta go start this shit, if for no other reason than that's the only way it's ever gonna get done.
I pre-hate this, by the way.
(Without Eric's personal contributions to said hatred of this whole deal. That kinda help, I most definitely do not need, thanks...) Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 11:36 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 11, 2004
Not all "Georges" are funny. Ya know?
Yes, I realize that that is an odd title, but, it's better than my first two ideas, which were... "Some People's Kids" or "Yeah. I wanted to wash this set of clothes again today, just like I did yesterday, thanks, Dillhole. *subtitled "What the fuck is it with guys and my black sweats/Harely shirt combo, any-freakin'-way, damn it?*
They're all related to the same issue. And, I've been reading two of George Carlin's books at the same time, so it just occured to me that not all Georges are funny... sadly enough. The issue is: George out-pinheaded himself this time 'round.*sigh and an eye roll... (two bits!)* So... he was here. I thought (and it hurt, too) that it was to "do" the carport.
Well, I was wrong. Apparently, it was to pile a buncha lumber right next to the hitching post because horses and boards work so well together I assume, take down the tarp that I'm currently using as a wall to block the weather from the inside of the carport and everything in it including a few critters and leave the tarp laying in the yard to get soaked and muddy and the entire contents of the carport exposed to the weather which happened to suck at the time and disable the lights out there and in here and then leave.
Oh, and to also leave a Carhart jacket that I had been using on top of a rooster cage for added protection out in the yard, also to get soaked and muddy. Well.
So glad you could come by.
Please stop by again, the next time you get the insane urge to create 4900 chores for me. Dipshit. *siiiiiigh* Now, it is my turn to ask the ageless, answerless question that I've been asked 4,678,234,109 times in my life.... WHY DOES HE DO THIS KINDA SHIT?!?!?!? If I had the answer to that question, I'd charge people to tell 'em the answer.
And, I'd be able to retire within a month, tops. I do not know why he does this kinda shit, except this time, I'm leaning toward "to piss me off" because I can't think of a single other reason why a guy who is a "professional" remodeller (sp?) would leave a "job" in that state for what could be up to two weeks, ya know? Then, on the other hand, fuck "professionalism". How about "don't fuck yer friends like that, Dork"? Especially if said "friend" is your not yet ex-wife? HUH?
How about that?
Anyone?
Bueller? *crickets chirping* Yeah, that's about what I thought. Whatta putz. Oh, and he "mentions" all this shit to me as he's waltzing out the door to go home.
Which meant that I!!!! (well, I wasn't about to slough it off on Eric) hadda go out there and re-hang the goddamned tarp, move the lumber and all the other shit back outta the fuckin' way, fix the lights (okay, that was easy... just flippin' a circuit breaker, but still... it woulda been harder for him or some shit?) and get wet, muddy and have to do a load of wash and shit.
Plus, my Bender boots, which I just cleaned like, two days ago, now look like I never touched 'em. eeeeerrrrrgggghhhhhh.... Must. stop. clenching. jaw. (and realize the source....*deep breath*) (Yes, JW, I heard ya... *giggle*) Honestly.
I soooo need to get a divorce before I make myself a widow... know what I mean, Jellybean? I did good, this time, though.
Didn't raise hell with him, but it was obvious I wasn't "happy". I just asked several times exactly what he was leaving me with, acting incredulous and then, while I was re-hanging the tarp, I also wasn't too happy with the nails I was hanging it on, so I added a few. Right through the tarp. Made my own holes, thanks. Hey... I know it's gonna stay up now and, Dickweed, if ya wanna leave YOUR MESS for me to "fix", ya got no cause to be bitching about how I do it. So, bite me. And, have fun taking Mr. Tarp down next time, which, by the way, ain't happenin' til the fucking plywood or whatever yer using is leaning against said tarp, waiting to be nailed up.
Got it?
Goooood. *deeeep breath and a spate of giggles* Gawd.
I feel ever s'much better now. Be back later. Peace
*grin*
Posted by: Stevie at 11:00 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 10, 2004
Okay, now I can really feel it...
The cold beer bottle in my hand, that is.
Now, if I could just find someplace doing karaoke, damn it...
Besides here, I mean.
lol...
Or "Dwight Live".
We'll see. In the meantime, I cracked open a beer the instant my tires hit the really loooong driveway and I'm almost scared to say that the physical reflex of holding a beer in just the right place on the console and all that that implies was so damned familiar... It's truly been years since I've done that, but... One of those things ya just don't forget, I guess. Why does beer taste so damned good when yer driving? Especially a Firebird?
Or, is that just me? I dunno... Gonna go back to the singing and Brain-be-gone, now... Peace Update about three and a half minutes later...
Went with Mr. Gatlin..... "Statues without hearts,
Stone with no feeling...
That's what we'll become, if we let love slip away..." "I don't wanna cry this early this morning.
But, cry I will, if you go thru with leaving me alone.
I don't wanna cry this early this morning,
So lay back down and love me and leave the leavin' to later on....." And so on.....
Posted by: Stevie at 08:37 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Now, this is cool....
I really like this site, man.
Only problem is, it lead me to go from hearing snippets of songs to playing the tapes and CD's and having what amounts to a live concert in my living room, or kitchen, depending on which stereo I use... Singing Dwight Yoakam makes me wanna be drinking beer, damn it... lol.I can feel the icy cold bottle of Mich in my hand, fer Pete's sake. Ya know... I do have jeans that fit, now. It IS Friday night and I DO have cash in the house.... Man. I know there's karaoke going on somewhere. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, it's happening in some kinda contest right up the road. Should I? Hmmmm... I'll think about it.
Meantime, back to Dwight.
This feels really good.
It's been quite a while. During the instrumental break, I feel stronger and stronger urges to go do "I'm a Believer" in public. Somebody hide my keys, please.... This, during Dwight's "The Heart That You Own", even.... Gawd. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!!! Dwight's "Suspicious Minds"... aw, Jeezus.... The ultimate Wally song.... I especially relate to the "caught in a trap" part... Pardon me whilst I fly back about 5 years, here, folks... Lordy.
I loved this song enough when Elvis did it, but Dwight's version.... Man, I miss some of those cows, bad.... 349, for one. That is ALWAYS what time it is when I look at a clock, too. It's weird how often that happens... Oooh, another song about that damned farm... With a few personalized changes, may I present... Ain't That Lonely Yet You keep calling me
On the telephone.
You say you're all alone
Well, that's too bad. You keep leavin'
Notes stuck on my door.
Guess you're hungry for some more.
Man, that's too bad. 'Cause I ain't that lonely yet (and never will be again)
No I ain't that lonely yet,
After what you put me through.
No, I ain't that lonely yet. Once there was this
Spider in my bed (make that LIFE)
I got caught up in his web
Of love* and lies
(*Mine, for the farm and cows and shit...*) He spun his chains
Around my heart and soul
Never to let go.
But I survived. 'Cause I ain't that lonely yet.
No I ain't that lonely yet,
After what you put me through.
I ain't that lonely yet There's nothing left
That you can do
To try and bring me 'round,
'Cause everything you do
Just brings me down. Oh, and I ain't that lonely yet.
No I ain't that lonely yet,
After what you put me through.
Oh, I ain't that lonely yet. Hey, I ain't that lonely yet.
No, I ain't that lonely yet,
After what you put me through.
Oh, I ain't that lonely yet.
Okay, I think I know how to do this, now. George just radio-ed and said he AND HIS SON will be here in about an hour.
So, I think I'll go get a six pack or two, drink some beer while I finish the house, then see how I feel about singing.... Sounds like a plan to me... Peace
"Nothing but sorrow,
Nothing but pain,
Nothing but memories
That whisper your name..." God, I forgot how good he says shit.... YEEEE-HAAA, Baby!!!
Dwight's version of "Crazy Little Thin Called Love" kicks ass. Bet Freddie Mercury loves the fuck out of it...
I know I do... *rockin' now, Dude*
Posted by: Stevie at 07:16 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Well, hello from (miserable-assed) Seattle on the Atlantic (side of the country)....
Yeah, it's raining agaaaain.
Yeah, I'm thrilled beyond words that it's not that foul, foul "sn"-shit.
It's just that the ground is pretty much soaked, so it's all just kinda laying there now, getting ugly.
Rain, like most chicks, is something that some people are always glad to see, while others know it as a necessary evil.
And, just like most females, when it first shows up, it's either welcomed, tolerated or ignored.
When none of those three reactions are satisfying anymore, it just haaaas to bump it's behavior up into the next catagory, where, eventually, it becomes the center of attention and quickly becomes annoying.
Then, just like most chicks, ya wind up hating it and wishing it would fuck off, never to be seen again.
Real nice.
(lmao....) Christ, that sounds just like my "lil frien'" this time, too. And, before I say one more word, there is just something I really hafta get off my chest (no, smartass, not hair).... I say the following as "your" waitress, one who likes the job (so far) and wants to keep liking it, if ya don't (fuckin') mind, (ya dolt): Do not, I repeat, DO NOT enter a restaurant as part of a goddamned HERD and order a milkshake.
EVER. In fact, just don't even get milkshakes in a restaurant at all, ever. If ya want one, go to friggin' Mickey D's, where all they hafta do is push a button for 45 seconds to "make" a shake, okay, dickweed?
We harried people WHO HANDLE YOUR FOOD do not have that luxury. We have to build those fuckers by hand. Scooping ice cream with a scoop the size of a hollowed out rat skull, inside of a chest freezer so deep it kills our backs. Then, we hafta go 32 different places to get all the damned ingredients for the damned thing, then we hafta stand there, turning that big silver cup thing on it's tiny, tiny perch while the utterly inefficient "mixer" takes 9 years to blend it.
No, we canNOT "just stick it on the machine and go do other shit", because that little perch sucks and the whole shebang can fly off, necessitating cleaning the entire 4 square mile area, thanks. It's a godamn fucking pain right in the ass and we hate you for it.
Especially when we're already busier than hell. I would never, in a million years, no matter how badly a person pisses me off, spit in their food, but, my hand to God, it crosses my mind when I hear the word "milkshake".
Please, stop it and never, ever do it again, World.
Thank you very much.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cool thing yesterday at work.
I waited on four pilots from Willow Grove. You can tell a guy is from over there, even he's in street clothes. They just have this "aura" about them that makes them stand out from the typical schlub. It's astounding how many of them look like they could quit flying and become male models, too. They all look "All-American", somehow. In fact, seeing the real deals, like I do now days, makes me wonder whose idea Tom Cruise was for a pilot in that movie he did... what da hell was it called? I forget, but he's a pilot like I'm a neurosurgeon.
I don't even LOOK like one and neither does he. Ew. The ones I waited on yesterday were all in uniforms/jumpsuits with wings on them, so it was easy to be almost damned sure they were pilots. But, at the end of their meal, while three of them were talking and I had the fourth guys attention for a second, I asked him, "Can I ask what is probably a dumb question? You guys are pilots, aren'tcha?", grinning...
He shakes his head and says, "Yesss..."
"Well, you're the ones, then... I've been wanting so badly to say this to somebody who does what you do.... You guys are AWESOME. Truly awesome..."
And, I quickly told him about last week, when, while on my way down 611 past the base, I saw that there were four fighters getting ready to take off.
As I was coming back by, I decided to pull into the parking lot of "that other" restaurant there *grin* and watch them go. Well, my God... I not only held up my radio with the mic keyed so Eric could hear 'em too, I got head-to-toe goose bumps and could NOT stop crying driving home after they'd gone... Jeezus. I've heard before that there's something about a female, especially, riding a horse, controlling that much power so lightly and being "one" with the animal... I can understand that to the nth degree when I think of the airshows I've seen, now. Mostly regular guys that I can bring coffee to, do that stuff.
Holy shit. Amazing. That was one of the things I'd mentioned before I started waitressing again, too... That I'd like to be able to work wherever those guys go to eat, because waiting on them would be such an honor... And, I do! *giggle* They aren't our entire customer base or anything, but we are rightthere, so we do get quite a few. Pretty cool.
*big grin* I'm off today... from WORK, not mentally, because I'm ALWAYS "off" mentally and it would hardly bear mentioning... now would it? Ain't sure, yet, what I'm gonna do with this day, but I'll think of something soon, I'm sure. House needs a "tweaking", oughta go to Wally-world (WalMart) and get a coupla things (but, I'd rather be drug behind a bus than deal with the herds of 'tards who are probably currently clogging the aisles in there, don'tcha know), gotta get to the store sometime today, gonna make dinner later (no idea what, yet)... shit like that.
Exciting, ain't it?
lol... Actually, I love it just. like. this. I've had enough "exciting" to last 14 lifetimes. I remember the first time I heard my life described that way. It was by a chick I'm friends with and will be forever, even though it's been YEARS since I've seen her.
She was divorced from this Cro-magnon idiot, with a spawn of his to raise. This "child" wieghed over 100 pounds at six or so and he was not "just fat". He was a tiny bull. "Dad" was a total dick, really.
*Quick story about him... He was a guard at the county jail years ago. He was also growing a pot jungle in my hometown, where he and my friend lived, which is TINY. Didn't even have a stop light in town, til about 5 years ago... SMALL, SMALL town, okay? Asshole couldn't keep from showing off his pot jungle to everybody who stopped by. Including me. Those plants TOWERED over my head. I was impressed. Anyway, this one guy he showed wound up in jail for domestic violence shit with his piece, and he expected preferential treatment, which he did NOT get and... whadda ya think happened? Yeah... asshole got busted shortly thereafter and wound up inside "his" own jail. Idiot.*
Aaanyway, she was "living" this life of hers, working a 9-to-5 job, raising this kid from hell, and having to deal with "Genius-Man" in the meantime.
I, on the other hand, was living in her house, having recently fled a cross-addicted dickheads house, was waitressing at a tiny little greasyspoon/truckstop on the midnight shift and losing my mind during the day.
She was listening to me go over the trainwreck that was my life and she said, and I quote..." Man, I wish my life was half as exciting as yours..." I just laughed and hugged her and told her I'd had enough "excitment", thanks and tried to hold on to THAT perspective (of hers) for a while.
Musta worked.
I've never forgotten it and it has made me laugh out loud during a few really "exciting" episodes... God, love the girl... she's a sweetie, she is. Delusional, but a sweetie... Okay, now I hafta pee so bad, I can't sit straight, so I'm gonna go.... TO THE BATHROOM, NOT HERE, KIDNEYS!!!!! Back later... Peace *runs screaming down the hall, leaping over cats and shit, in a long flannel "granny-gown" nightgown, kinda thing*
movemovemovemovemove!!!!!!!
Posted by: Stevie at 12:52 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 09, 2004
Good grief....
Seems like I forgot to pay Earthlink again. Well, forgot, or had to pay car insurance, pick one.
Both, actually.
Anybody have a service that they like that does NOT require a credit card? I'm gonna look into PeoplePC. Coincidentally, they sent me a "try us for free" email yesterday.
Now, I know why.
*grin* Tell ya the truth, though... even if I am "off line" for a while, it's kinda okay. Not forever, but for a little while, I'll live.
Still, it IS nice to be able to say, "Oh yeah, Earthlink? Bite me, I'm BACK ONLINE, so there!!" Well, now that I've solved this problem again, I think I'm gonna go try to go to sleep for at least a little bit. Gotta work later. Off tomorrow, though, so even if I do stay awake, I'll be fine. See? Very "bendy", aka flexible. Tawk to yiz lay-tah... Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 01:09 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 08, 2004
Fuck you, United....
I truly hope this fails in the most spectacular way possible.
Bastards.
I don't know who the genius was who designed that CVS snowman with the candycane in Yahoo mail, but thanks a pantload, whoever ya are, for making me watch what amounts to snow-porn while forced to wait for Yahoo to get it in gear.
The way the little perv is moving that candycane is so... obvious, weird, suggestive... Jeezus.
Yeah. That's just what I needed in my brain.
*sigh* And again...
United... May you all spend eternity in hell.
You bloodmoney-grubbing sacks of monkey shit.
Posted by: Stevie at 12:57 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
This is probably gonna be way TMI, buuuut...
My period is really pissin' me off, now.
I've officially had ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT!!!!
Well, fuck me runnin', you'd a thought Eric ran away or something (and I would NOT blame him if he did right now... I want to, too) from the way I fell apart. Of course, there was a picture of this dog with a kitten that got me, too, but still. Then, I'm in the library, reading "Christine" (yes, again) and Steve (SK himself, yes) mentioned "c&w" (his way of saying "Country" music) and I lost it again. God damn Vince Gill and Garth "The Damned Dance" Brooks. Alabama, too, those ballad singin' peckerheads. And, Steve? You can bite me, too, for getting me started. That time.
I so do not need this shit, ya know? Then, there's that damned dog... if she doesn't shut the ever-lovin' fuck up, I will not be able to be held responsible for my actions. And, just top put a lil ol cherry on top of the whipped cream on top of the frosted dog turd that IS my period this time, I'm giggling my stupid ass off as I type this. I am losing my lil teeny, tiny mind. I hate hormones. If I'm not born a guy next time, I swear by all that is holy, I will be one before I die. One way or the got-damned other. The good news is, I made the insurance payment and I have stretch marks, which as we all know 'cause I've said it before, are a good thing because they mean something has gotten smaller. In this case, it's my gut. Yay.
*studiously ignoring boobs* Also, it's supposed to be sunny and 60-something in a few hours, so I'm gonna go to bed again. I fell asleep for about 3 or 4 hours when I got home from work. Didn't mean to, necessarily, but I had to get off my feets. Was reading "Insomnia" (yeah, also by SK) and next thing I know, it's 9-something and I'm laying in bed fully dressed and needing to pee.
That was fun. Guess I oughta just be glad I'm not Sophia, the oldest "Golden Girl" (yet). She said she couldn't understand why old people have such a hard time with continence. She had no problem with it. She peed every morning at 6am, on the button.
Her only problem was that she didn't get up til 7am. And, on that note...
I'm outta here. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 01:39 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 05, 2004
He stole my sweats... Buford T. Pusser?... That you, Maggot?
Yes, today, we have not one, but THREE, titles.
That's because there are three things simultaneously trying to be first in my brain.
I purposely stayed up longer than I wanted to so I could get them washed and in the dryer and he swiped 'em before I woke up.
*siiigh*
See? This is why I simply cannot allow myself (nor would I want to) to behave like a "typical" female. If I were to do that, I'd have to kill him for this. *giggle*
Instead, I can just go on about my day merely shaking my head at him for this, with a slightly mournful expression (due more to his infallibility in situations like this than my lost sweats) and wear my "other" sweats that I was smart enough to wash last night, too, even tho they ARE dark gray and not black, like I really wanted.
(The reason I wanted the black ones is my version of "planned outfits" that chicks agonize over so endlessly. In my world, the "perfect" outfit for a day like today is my black, BRAND NEW sweats *ahem* and my slightly big on me, "Milwaukee Iron: Forged in our souls", black Harley sweat shirt. Gray will work, but black... *sigh* Black woulda been perfect, like I said. Aaaanyway...) Then, as I'm sitting here dressed all cockeyed and shit, I see in my site meter where someone is looking for "Buford T. Pusser" and nearly chocked to death laughing at that mental image....
Jeezus.
For the record, ya got two different names mixed together there, Sparky. Buford HAYSE Pusser was a real life guy in Adamsville, Tn. who was Sheriff for several years and the subject of the "Walking Tall" trilogy. Buford T. JUSTICE was a character played by Jackie Gleason in the (classic) movie "Smokey and the Bandit". Also a lawman, but no Sheriff Pusser. You really should spend a rainy day watching all four movies. They're all great. However, the idea of an amalgamation of those two men, looks wise, is scary. Third thing....
I wondered when I typed it, how long it would take to get google-crawled and who'd show up from it.... Today's the day, I guess.
Somebody has already been by because of that maggot I mentioned the other day who testified FOR the wife/unborn baby murderer.
So, let me say RIGHT NOW that I hope to HELL it was someone from Laci's side. Coming here looking for sympathy, understanding, or even tolerance of Peterson or his "friends" is gonna be a wasted effort, I can promise you that. Very VERY rarely am I on "the woman's side" in ANYTHING EVER, but every once in a while a man so evil, so disgusting, so fucking VILE comes along that even I can't find a redeeming quality about him and I have to concede defeat and declare him to be the piece of shit he is and this is one of those times. Scott Peterson is the male version of a bloodless, soulless, heartless CUNT. And, anyone who testifies for him, knowing full well what he did, is just as evil as he is.
End of story. Know that if yer gonna discuss this here, okay?
It'll save us ALL time and aggravation. That said, I need to get it in gear, here.
I have to move the saddles and bring the critters in.
Meaning: I'm gonna put the saddles in the "mudroom", henceforth to be called "the tack room with a clothes dryer in it, too" and then, I'm gonna bring in the rabbits, the roosters (!) and Walter, the Pigeon and put them where the saddles are now, which is right behind me in the "diningroom" (except we very rarely eat in here). That, and I have to finish the wash. (And, hide my uniform, lest Eric get any more "good ideas"... lmao...) Peace, y'all!!!
Posted by: Stevie at 11:39 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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