Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Will Work For Food

Actually that's not true. I'll work for money and then I will buy food with that money, pay bills and buy silly things I don't really need, etc. But the the main part of that is working for money. Which I don't seem to be doing much of lately. Which is making me very, very grumpy. I have two jobs and neither is giving me enough hours.
The solution seems simple enough, but the thought of looking for a new job is as frustrating as the problems I have now. Especially when, despite the fact that there are a lot of places looking for employees, 99% of those jobs are part-time minimum wage high school jobs. No one with half a brain would leave a union job with benefits for a cashier gig at the fucking Home Depot.
So the search begins for a decent job that pays and gives enough hours to make everything worth while. Preferably a job that's getting me a little closer to the career I trained for. And definitely something that doesn't make "jumping in front of a speeding bus" look like a good plan.
This could be harder than it looks.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

If I Don't Post Something Soon...

They're going to charge me with neglect and put my blog in foster care. I'm not going to take all the blame though, I was busy being sick. That and there's this thing that happens between the hours when I'm at work or asleep, I think it's called "life". I dunno, mostly I just dismiss it as hear-say.
I wish I could say that I have something to talk about, okay, bitch about or even any important news. But alas, I do not. Nothing really out of the ordinary has been going on and I've been too sick to be really pissed off about anything (other than being sick). The only interesting thing to happen to me lately was Saturday I got my first professional job working on a film set.
It was a very, very, very long day that involved a lot of waiting, doing nothing and being amazed by the level of stress some people had managed to reach without actually having their heads explode. Oh and eating, we did a lot of that. Just to clarify, I am NOT complaining. They paid me a stupid amount of money to eat and sit on my ass which is just fine with me. Given the opportunity to do it again, I'll be there in a heartbeat. It's also hours I need if I ever want to join the union (by which I mean 'if I ever want to work on a union set, thus requiring me to join the goddamned union').
Anyway, I saved up every ounce of strength and ability to not be sick for that one day. Now my sick is back with a vengence and I'm on my third box of kleenex. But I will try to be around more again. Really. I promise. I know how much you all probably missed me.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Aaaaaand Sick.

Goddamnit. GODDAMNIT! I do not have time for this shit right now. The cold I was dealing with all week was annoying, but this is bullshit. I am officially sick of being sick. Someone bring me a kleenex.

Monday, April 14, 2008

How About Less Help And More Fucking Off?

My dad is and has always been one of those people who can't leave well enough alone. There is his way and only his way. Anything else is the wrong way. No matter what you're doing, he knows how it could be done better. If something goes wrong he knows what you should have done. And he'll tell you, constantly, until you want to punch something. Or if he's really in a mood he'll redo it for you, he'll "fix" it.
This is NOT a habit I encourage. I know that he means well but for me, there is nothing that makes it more clear what an idiot you must take me for. I don't need anyone to be constantly correcting, fixing and criticizing every little thing I do. It drives me fucking crazy.
Now, keep in mind, the only reason he ever gets away with anything like this is because he's my dad. You on the other hand are not. So if you ever start pulling this kind of obnoxious bullshit with me, I swear by all things unholy I will rip out your tongue and shove it up your ass.

Things I Think

"EEK! What is that!? Kill it! KILL IT!"
"I think it's Clay Aiken."

Saturday, April 12, 2008

That About Sums It Up

I could tell you that I spent the morning answering stupid question, but this kind of sums up everything perfectly. This woman called to ask where we're located. I gave her the address and the intersection. She still wasn't sure.
"Do you know where (Auto Parts Store) is?"
"Well we're right behind them. So if you're headed north towards them you just need to turn left on 4th Ave."
"But... but... I'm headed south! What do I do if I'm going south!?"
"..." Oh yeah, she's serious. "You turn right on 4th."
And there's still another day of this shit.

A Girl Can Dream, Can't She?

I have an alarm program on my computer that I use when I have to get up earlier then I would like. I had to be up at 8am to get ready for work, so I set it last night. When the alarm goes off it turns on my computer and starts up iTunes. It's really a glorified clock radio alarm, but I like it a lot better then the mind meltingly awful sound my alarm clock makes.
I have to go to work because the dancers are still there. I don't want to go. They're a bunch of harpy shrews and they make me wish I was deaf and blind. So what tune did I wake up to this morning? (I almost always have iTunes on shuffle.) Johnny Cash singing "The Man Comes Around".
I could help but think "if only". That would make for a really awesome day. Just to watch the Four Horsemen ride through a building full of these freaks. Somehow, I think they'd probably like them as much as I do. I'd even get them some coffee. Maybe a muffin or something. I mean, really, I don't imagine they have much time to stop and snack and everyone needs to eat. You can't go around Apocolypsing it up on an empty stomach. You'll just end up making yourself ill.
I suspect that it will be these thoughts that will get me through today. I feel all warm and squishy inside.

Thursday, April 10, 2008


Someone, please, I'm surrounded by dancers... send help. Send help now. I'm begging you.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Being A Girl Is A Fucking Rip Off

Let me repeat that for you.
That's exactly how much I just spent on one new bra. Not many new bras, but ONE.
"Why?" I can hear you asking. Because Being a girl is a fucking rip off. And yes, I know I could go buy a cheaper one but there are problems with that idea too. The main one being the places that sell cheaper bras don't carry my size. (That's right, my boobs are that big. Yay me.) Then there's the fact that when buying a bra, you get what you pay for. So you pay less, you get a shitty bra. I have a bad back (like I said, big boobs) and a shitty bra does not help that problem.
So enjoy them while you can, boys, because if this kind of shit keeps up I'm going to have to chop them off.

Saturday, April 05, 2008

Big Pimpin'

In case you'd forgotten or *gasp* hadn't heard, tomorrow is Mr. Fab's Big Honkin' Duet show II. Two solid hours of bloggers making complete asses of themselves, singing in the ancient tradition of Karaoke. It could be the best thing you've ever heard, although it could also be a thing of world ending, soul crushing, brain exploding horror. Either way, you really ought to be there.

Well, I'm all pimped out. It's true what they say "Pimpin' ain't easy".

I'd Sigh If It Didn't Hurt To Do So

After finally getting over that stupid flu/cold thing I had the last two weeks, I am now getting sick AGAIN! Last night at work I noticed my throat was starting to get a bit sore. When we finished watching a movie at my bother's place it was considerably worse. Then this morning I woke up to find I'm having trouble swallowing. It just keeps getting better and better.
The best part of it all, I actually have a whole three day weekend. I was planning on chilling out, and maybe getting a few things off my "to do" list. But no, I can't have a lovely germ free weekend. I get to go find some medication and hope that I feel better by Tuesday.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Dear Oil Companies,

Let me just start by saying fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
Now that we've got that out of the way, fuck you. Fuck you right up the ass with something sand-papery, you cock-gobbling cum dumpsters. I can't even come up with something bad enough to compare my hatred for you to that would put it in to perspective. No name I can think up, no expletive I could use, no words yet discovered would accurately describe my feelings for you and your "stealing toys from orphans" level of douche baggery. At this point I think even Hitler would be exclaiming "Mein Gott!"
You can rot in the deepest, darkest pit of hell for all of eternity. You and your fuck buddy George "Dubya".
So in closing let me just say fuck you, you planet killing, war starting, money grubbing, price gouging, soul sucking, cunts.