Somebody stop me...
After today, if I were actually shopping in an Amazon store, my "cart" would be a freakin' train of carts by now.
It all started because I remembered a book I used to have and would LOVE to read, if not own, again. I remember when I bought it the first time... in Deptford mall, with my Dad, Christmas shopping I think, and I also think I was about 14 or 15, and we went to Roy Rogers after that and I read almost half of it while we were eating. It's called "P.S. Your cat is dead". It was good.Weird, but good.
And... I found it. I found that and about 30 other things like that that I stuck in my cart "for later".
Prices ranged from one cent to about 25 bucks.
Mostly everything is under or around 5 bucks, though.
Friggin' shipping is what's gonna kick my ass...
Everything is from different people and places. If I'm not mistaken, everything I found today was books. I have this vision of being able to order it all at once, then have the UPS and FedEx trucks droppin' 'em off randomly for a coupla weeks or so. That'd be cool.
To get something cool every time somebody knocks on the door... That'd be a switch for me. After the eighties and the first half of the ninties, I learned to dread people knocking on the damned door and I'm still phobic about getting mail.
Hell, I don't even HAVE a "landline" phone in this house anymore. Not only do people knock on your door with fer shit news, they also mail it and like to tell ya about it on voicemail. So, no landline, cell only and only the people I want to have it have my number.
I'm starting to not mind getting the mail so much.
The more days and weeks and months in a row that it's all expected shit or junk mail, the better.
And, if I could get some cool driver dudes to bring me cool stuff I've wanted for years...
Why, I might actually start to learn not to be such an antisocial little shit. Not to mention the fact that I love books so damned much that I'd pretty much be too happy to be antisocial... Speaking of cell phones... I hafta go to Wally-world and get a charger for mine.
And Sr.'s.
(One'll do.)
(But, it'll be used for both phones.) Stupid cord either broke or got chewed off by a cat or something.
Right at that little rubber knobby thing that comes off the charger plug...
Right where it's all kindsa fun to try to splice it. Naturally. "We" did try that.
"We" being me getting George to try splicing it.
Didn't work.
*pout* So, now it's off to Wally-world.
Again. And, ya wanna guess where I feel like going?
Noplace. Bed, maybe.
Bathroom, if I have to, but... other than that?
Noplace. But, I'm already dressed.
And, I can't have two dead phones.
Or one, even. Now all I wanna do is get there and back home.
Be done already. BUT... since, about 15 minutes ago, I witnessed my first and what had better goddamned ONLY act of gun-stupidity out of Jr.'s buddy, I think I'll just wait another little while, til it's dark, to go. The asswit lost his fuckin' MIND and was shooting RIGHT ACROSS THE FUCKIN' ROAD at pigeons. First off... LEAVE THE FUCKIN' PIGEONS ALONE.
Second "first off"... don't be shooting this close to my fuckin' house. Asshole. That INSTANTLY pissed me off.
Made my stomach hurt, too. That's the first time I've felt a need to interject myself into anything around here involving hunting or guns, but, goddamn!
I made myself perfectly fuckin' clear and it had better not EVER happen again. I've seen Elmer Fudd's fuckin' rifle barrel tied into a bow enough times to know how to do that, should it become necessary. ASShole. And, now I have a headache, too... Man, I shoulda just let it out when it happened, but I tried to not mention it.
I tried to just go on and finish about the charger, but, holy fuckin' SHIT, does that kinda shit PISS ME OFF. God.
Damn. Anyway... before I go strangle the dickbrain with the gun, I guess I oughta just go to the stupid store. Yeah... *looks out window*... it's dark. Stupid fuck'll probably still shoot at shit, but at least now, in the dark, there's a better chance he'll hit himself with the bullets. Orrrr.... it'll be less likely anybody will see me crammin' his gun up his ass and he'd never want to admit a chick did that to him... See why I like night so much better than day?
The reasons are legion... Back later. Peace
(or a reasonable facsimile thereof)
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