Thursday, February 26, 2009

Dolls, Why Did It Have To Be Dolls!?

Let me start off by saying, Playstation 3 and Baby Laugh-A-Lot, fuck you both.
Now let me scar you for life as I have been.





Is it just me or does is that baby not clearly the inspiration for most of Evil Dead?

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Happy Birthday, Robin!

I was going to go find you a picture of a cake, since mailing one seemed like a bad idea. But then I realized, this is Robin. What does Robin love even more than cake? Yes, bagels, I know. But even more than bagels? That's right. Kevin.
Now I know we agreed to share him and I know that hasn't always gone as smoothly as it might have. So I am going to suggest that from now on, no matter what plans we might have had, Kevin belongs to the birthday girl exclusively for that one day.
Deal?
Happy birthday, lady! I love you!





Saturday, February 14, 2009

No More Mr. Balls

When you work with the public, especially when you work somewhere like the public library, you tend to meet a lot of weird people. People who are just kind of unforgettable in their dysfunction. For the most part, they're people who aren't really hurting anyone, but they make things just a little more interesting.
At the library (and I'm assuming in most places) our regulars get nicknames. It's something we do so we have something to call them when we talk amongst ourselves. Most are completely self-explanatory. There's "Pee Guy" who smells more like pee than pee does. "Bling Bling" with his gold necklaces to rival Mr. T. "Mr. Beefeater Gin" who used to sit in the back and pretend no one knew he was getting shitfaced. "Paper Friend" who would hoard all the newspapers. "Last Minute Larry" who always shows up ten minutes before we close and takes an armful of news papers to the other end of the building (oh yeah, that's not annoying...). And of course, "Mr. Balls".
Mr. Balls used to be known as "Stink and Stare". You'll never guess why. But that all changed one day when a co-worker decided that "Mr. Balls" was more fitting. This was all because of the duffel bag he toted with him everywhere. It was full of balls. All different kinds. He had everything from a small bowling ball to a squeezy stress ball.
He would go upstairs to the news papers, gab a handful, find a table and then it would begin. He's start by taking apart the newspapers. I don't believe I ever saw him read a word, but they were all pulled apart by the end of the day. And then he go for his bag.
Most of the time he'd take out a ball and rub it on his face. Honest, I can't make stuff like that up. Or he'd sit with the bowling ball pressed to his face. One I watched him squeeze the stress ball around in the air before sniffing wildly like it had released some beautiful perfume. It was his thing.
Although the thing I remember the best is the night a friend of mine and I were headed back downstairs and he was walking ahead of us. As he waddled along (he really did waddle) a bar of soap fell out of his pant leg. He didn't even pause. Just carried on with the used pant-soap laying on the floor behind him. I will always choose to believe he had a hole in his pocket.
Today I saw his obit in the paper. It was an odd feeling actually. To see his real name written out. A bit like in Fight Club when they're all chanting "His name is Robert Paulson" because in death, they've decided, you get your name back. It was weird too because, for as much as we never really knew the guy, we did know him in a way and he was just part of daily life here. One of those constants you get used to and then just come to expect.
Honestly, a lot of our patrons are elderly and many of them in not such great shape. A hard life tends to do that to people. So it's not something you don't expect or something that's never happened before. It's just odd.
Anyway, good-bye Mr. Balls. I hope where ever you are, it's like a giant McDonald's ball room.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

I Think I Have A New Favourite Car

For years my favourite car of all time has been the Aston Martin DB5.

That would be this car here.
Isn't it lovely? Beyond being a painfully hot car just on it's own, it's also my favourite Bond's car in my favourite Bond movie. How could I not love this car?
But I've found another that I don't know I'd be able to put second. Can I have two firsts? Can I love them both equally? Is that allowed? I might cry.
The 1938 Phantom Corsair...

That would be this bit of sex on wheels, makes me drool.
So if anyone wants to make me seriously happy, you know, now you have a couple of ideas. (I get one of these and I'd even let you post the video of me flipping my shit on YouTube.)

Friday, February 06, 2009

I Don't Have Anything Big Enough For A Full Post

- Honestly, I'm not trying to neglect this site, I just haven't really had a lot to say about anything recently. At least nothing that would be me ranting about something you've already heard me rant about. (Not that that hasn't happened before...)

- It's a very special someone's birthday today. I think we should all take a moment to send the guy some lovin' thoughts. After all, he deserves them.

- I am STILL looking for a different job as the one I've got right now is making me insane. I don't even know where to begin with this one. It's all just so ridiculous.

- I got my hands on an original NES still in the package. Since it was purchased it was taken out of the box once to see if it worked and then stuck in a closet for the last twenty odd years. Now it's mine! ALL MINE! MUHUHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Monday, February 02, 2009

Are You There God? It's Me, Gwenhwyfar...

And I know you're mocking me, you bastard.
I woke up this morning a full hour before my alarm with a migraine that has now dug itself completely in to the left side of my head. Despite the massive dose of painkillers I've taken it doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon.
Then I came to work, being the wonderful employee I am, head still pounding. Luckily, I have a fairly easy job. It's normally pretty quiet and I thought nursing my head wouldn't be too hard.
Not so much.
It seems there's a leak in the plumbing, so the guys are here working on it. With power tools. Really. Loud. Power tools. And let me tell you, that is doing wonders for my head.
Finally, just because I know the Gods can't let a good thing go, they've got the radio going and once again I am listening to Pink screeching her way through "sober". It might be tollerable if it weren't the fifth time I've heard it today. But the radio stations all seem to be hell bent on torturing me with the same goddamned song every fifteen minutes.
Fuck.