Oh, fear not... I'm still me and yesterday was "Tourettes Tuesday" at work...

*lmao*

I don't know what it was yesterday, but I swear... I swore more than I have in my whole life put together.
There were f-bombs flying left and right and I swear, I coulda gladly bit somebody's face straight off ("throat out" was my other fantasy) and spit it at 'em and...
got no idea why.

I wasn't even pissed... that I know of. Wasn't mad at anybody, not sick (no moreso than usual, anyway), not tired (again- that I know of), not having my period, though maybe it was some kinda post-terrorist visit shit, I dunno.
All I know is I spent a large portion of the day chewin' my back teeth and acting totally schizo... muttering under my breath and just wanting to act out every method of flippin' people off that there is every single time I turned or walked away from a table, then, the instant I faced one or walked to it, I was all smiley and sweet and... then, as I walked away again, mutter, mutter, fuck, shit, piss, mutter, mutter....

I wove a tapestry of profanity that, to this second, is still hanging over Willow Grove NAS and the surrounding area.

Hell, I was shootin' the bird at the calculator, straws, the soup heater-thing, loaves of bread, cans of whipped cream... any and all inanimate objects yesterday were shown the bird and I don't mean the car.

By about noon, I was just going with the "Tourettes Tuesday" angle and people were giving me a wide berth, yet also still watching 'cause it was funny.
And, as bad as I may have been there, being annoyed, flippin' shit off, when I got home.... oh, gawd.... I completely freaked out and screamed at.... the toilet.

Yeah.
I know...
Shut up.... (Jason. I always picture, as I confess my insanity, a friend of mine from Jersey, Jason, sitting there reading this and shaking his head, thinking I'm still as gonzo as I was when he met me, but, really, I'm not. I'm WORSE NOW!!!!! *lmao* He doesn't get it and never has. He thinks I'm fuckin' nuts, but for real. If only he knew...)
*lmao again*

Lookit man... I had to go to the bathroom and, frankly, I'm friggin' SICK of having to play "Josephine the fuckin' Plumber" every nine seconds with that... that... THING.
I mean, this is not a new thing for me.
My toilet is utterly retarded.
It's been documented to death, has it not?
My toilet would make a great stump or something, because flushing... one of it's main functions (allegedly)... is the one thing it just cannot seem to bring itself to do with any consistancy whatsoever.
Sumbitch.
Nothing I'd rather do than spend time plunging a toilet BEFORE I even get to use the damned thing.

'Course, it's not hard to do... just annoying.

I simply take the unexpended energy built up from having to clench my ass cheeks and channel it down my arms, into the plunger and voila!...
Instant room made for a whole new toilet by virtue of the fact that I just shoved this one down through the floor and under the house by jamming a plunger into it in an arc that starts somewhere behind my head.
Fuckin' thing.
You'd think it'd learn, but noooooooo.
Gotsta fuck with me every. single. tiiiiime.

Or maybe alla this could be avoided if the what must be an ELEPHANT would learn to flush the damned thing... and I mean really FLUSH it, as in... push the little handle, stand there, watch, don't release the handle til it swallows or re-flush a few times til it swallows or whatever it takes, but the bullshit of merely pushing the little silver handle then leaving, as IF this thing could handle the rest of the procedure on it's own?... no. Can't do that, it don't work that way.
Should, yes.
Does, NO.

And, no, there is no rhyme or reason that I can ascertain why it flushes "right" sometimes but not others (except to fuck with me).

It's just one of those great, aggravating mysteries of my life...
I have a toilet that would make a great can opener for as well as it behaves like a toilet, a can opener that would make a great hammer for all the trouble it has piercing a can and a hammer that makes a GREAT attitude adjuster.

See?
I DO have all the tools I need to live a "successful" life (whatever THAT means), it's just that they're all disguised as something else.

But...

Fuck it. (fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckiT)
It just makes it more "interesting", right?
*teeth gritting grin*

"People wanna ask me, Hankette, whyyy do ya drink?
Why do you roll smoke?
Why must you liiive out the songs that he wrote...
Stop and think it ovah.
Put yerself in my unique position.
If I get stoned and beat the holy hell out of the toilet,
It's because it deserrrrves it...."

I made up a song at work, too...

"I left my braaaain inside my bathroom...."
(Sung to the tune of "I left my heart in San Fransico..." and every bit as badly as that "Dora" chick in that Partridge Family episode where Keith doesn't hear how abominably she sings 'cause she's cute.)

That came up after about the third time the head cook today (one of the owners, not the King of Weiner World) asked me, "Where you at today? You still on the farm?!?"
Aw, shut up, ya know?
Just because I can't get one damned thing to come out right, doesn't mean I need YOU triggering Elton John singing "Should have stayed on the farm, should have listened to my old man, you know you can't hold me forever, I didn't sign up with you, I'm not a present for your friends to open, this chick's too young to be singin' the bluuuuue-ue-ues, ah, ah, ah, ah, ahhhhhhggggrrrrrr!!!!!!!", on a looped tape in my head.

Know what I mean, there, Other Boss?

Swear ta GAWD, I'm gonna start taking "special" brownies to work with me.
See if I don't.
*giggle, snork*

That's all I need... to become Rev. Jim Ignatowski at work...
*lmao at the idea*
Hell, I doubt anybody'd be too surprised if I did. I'm not that far from it, now...
some days.

My "other" favorite boss asked me once, months ago, "Are cigarettes ALL you smoke?", to which I answered, grinning, "While I'm HERE, yeah. Why? Can we "fix" that or something? Maybe set up a little area downstairs, near the ice machine?", then we both fell out, laughing, thank God.
He's a used to be stoner himself.
Total Metallica fan, loves Pink Floyd, hell, he even named his dog Floyd.
He is so cool, that one is.
Besides, the non-stoners are the minority at this place.
And, the one dickhead who NEEDS to get stoned (and LAID, we all believe) is one of the few who don't indulge.
Idiot.
I've said it before and I'm sayin' it again...
One of these days, I'm gonna knock him on his ass, sit on his chest and shotgun a whole joint right in his face. Then, I'm gonna duct tape headphones to his head, cue up some SRV and stick his uptight ass up on a horse, tell him to quit crying and screaming like a little girl, and SHOW him how to relax before somebody kills his ass.
This putz has been quoting as saying, "I exude perfection and expect it in others.", which explains a LOT.
*rolls eyes*
Whatta moron.

"Exude perfection..."

Honestly.
This mutherfucker needs meds worse than I do.
At least I don't think I'm Jesus Christ.
(I already know I'm "Goddamn it", anyway...)

So, yeah...
I'm still me and my life is still the amalgamation of insanity, inconsistancy and idiots that it usually is.
I'm just getting better at handling it.
Sometimes.
Like yesterday morning's post.
"Course, that was before I went to work...

Which, if ya think about it, also explains a lot...
I see me as a misogynistic misanthrope, right?
I mean, I like animals more than most people and women in particular bring out the worst in me, so what do I do?
Get a job dealing with the public while working in a building fulla females.

*sigh*

Think about that for a minute.
Then, revisit the whole "get stoned and beat the holy hell outta the toilet because it deserves it" deal and just see if it doesn't make a little more sense (or any at all).
I dare ya...
*giggle*

Well... the sun's about to come up and I hafta go get Eric up, too.
May just take a wander out in the woods, too.
Either that, or go back to sleep for a while longer.
My stupid arm woke me up about two hours ago and I'm still a little... fuzzy-headed.
By way of explanation of that... remember when I whacked my elbow all those months ago at work? Know how my fingers have been numb/tingly ever since?
Well, the lastest developement is occasional PAIN. I don't know why, or what triggers it, but, sometimes, a lot of times, while I'm sleeping, something happens and it HURTS like I've slept on it wrong for about a month. Hurts like a bitch, feels like it's in a coma, it's so "asleep" and like, if I were to shake it around, to "wake it up", it'd feel better, but that doesn't help. It just hurts til it doesn't anymore, then it does again later on.
Some moves I make with my hand also kinda hurt. Feels almost crampy or like something inside my hand clicks when I do certain things that I never know what they're gonna be til I do them and feel it.

I'm starting to get tired of this, now, by the way.
*rolls eyes*
Just for the record and all...

Meantime...
Things to see, people to do, arm to whip around...

Peace y'all.

Posted by: Stevie at 04:59 AM

Comments

Posted by: dee at August 10, 2005 02:34 PM (sZnML)

Posted by: helen at May 21, 2009 01:25 AM (gxuBX)

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