Well At Least I Get To Use My New Favourite Insult

A while back we had to do these job evaluation questionnaires. They were stressful as hell and in short, made me very grumpy. We basically had to explain our jobs and what we do. The JE comittee went over them and sent back their report on what they think we do, what level our job is, etc.
Today we went to a meeting to discuss their ruling and ask questions. The JE committee was there along with their HR consultant. All was going well until I started asking questions. And I know what you're thinking, but I have witnesses and they will all tell you that I was civil, my questions were appropriate and at the right times. Honest.
The problem was the HR consultant. Despite asking repeatedly if anyone had questions, anyone (myself very included) were cut off, snapped at, shot down and belittled. She was rude, snippy, condescending and an out-right bitch. She all but said that we are the least important people in the library. That we're glorified chimps.
I didn't get through one question without her cutting me off, to the point where other members of the JE committee cut her off to get her to let me finish.
I've had the same bullshit, dead end job for three years. I make barely enough to live on. But still, anyone asks me about my job I can honestly say I love it. I love my job and the people I work with. Today, today was different.
For the first time in three years, I hate my job.
All the things I do above and beyond what they're telling me I do, what they're paying me to do, my basic job, I'm not willing to do any more. Any bullshit jobs people making more money that me "don't have time to do", well that's just too bad. You can all suck my ass. Do your own fucking job. JE tells me that it isn't my job, I'm not fucking doing it.
I swear to fucking Christ, anyone comes to me and tells me that ref sent them over to me to ask where something is will be asked which ref staff said it and be taken back to the ref desk where I will promptly explain that they should get off their fucking ass and do their fucking job. I'm not paid to pick up the fucking slack from anyone. They want me to do ref work, they can pay me ref wages.
You want me to just be your fucking super chimp? Fine. That's exactly what you'll get. I'll try not to drool on the books while I just randomly shove them on to the shelves.
You cock gobbling thunder cunt.

You Mean It's Not Legal Yet?

Apparently Hugh Grant was arrested. No, it's not what you're thinking.
Arrested for assault. He kicked a photographer several times and threw a container of beans at him (which is hysterical, but beside the point). They're quoting the photographer talking about the incident, claiming that he verbally attacked his kids and saying that Hugh was out of line.
Now, does this dumb fucking photographer actually expect anyone to feel bad for him?
He was out of line? You're the fucking asshole who showed up in front of his private residence and started snapping pictures of him, asking him to smile like the royal cock bag you are.
I'd say that paparazzi are scum, but that's insulting to scum. Seriously. That was what I had typed first, "Paparazzi are scum" and the phone rang. It was a lawyer with a cease and desist order, saying that what I had written was slander and defamation. I asked how the paparazzi had found out what I'd written so quickly. He said no, he was defending the scum.
These assholes stalk people and harass them everytime they step out of their houses. Oh yeah, that's right. Celebrities are people. Real, live, people. If any one of you had some crazy asshole following your every move and harassing you where ever you went, you'd go to the fucking police. But some how these cock suckers justify what they're doing with the old "it's just part of being famous".
Fuck you. Because someone is famous doesn't mean you own them. It doesn't give you the right to treat them like they're a fucking exhibit at the fucking zoo (actually, I don't think you're allowed to treat animals at the zoo that badly).
I can't blame Hugh or anyone else, for that matter, who finally snap and kick some paparazzi ass. More people should do it. It shouldn't just be legal, it should be encouraged. I'd kick your fucking ass too. You better believe I'd throw something a lot harder than a container of beans too and you'd be luck to get away with just a couple of kicks.
People wonder why celebrities are so crazy. If I had to live my life in that kind of fishbowl I'd be bat shit crazy too. And it's really fucking easy to make someone look crazy when you're snapping pictures of them every second of every day.
Oh, and is this guy fucking serious? He told Hugh Grant he has two kids and Hugh attacked them?
Why the fuck would he tell him he has two kids? Like that's the first thing you should when some one kicks you? Because that justifies you being a fucking douche bag? Because that's going to make his stop and go "Oh well, in that case, please continue fucking with my morning by snapping my picture without taking the time to consider my privacy, feelings, rights or whatever. People with two kids get to take all the pictures they like. What are their names by the way? Tell them I say hi. In fact, when are their birthdays? I'll be sure to send them a nice card."? Fuckwad.

Ulcer? Working On It.

As much as I am an opinionated bitch (which isn't going to change any time soon) and I have no qualms about who I am, I still cannot stand having someone mad at me. I don't deal with guilt very well (thanks, mom) and when someone is mad at me, even when I'm not the one in the wrong, I feel guilty. Really guilty. And sick.
I hate it, but no matter how hard I try I can't stop that feeling. So right now, I'm feeling sick, panicky and guilty.
Why? Because someone assumed something that was completely wrong, didn't check with me, was subsequently set straight (by me) and now I'm the asshole because they screwed up. It's going to be a really bad week. And everything had been going so well. *sigh*
I think I'm going to throw up.

My Vocabulary?

Why, it's fine. Thanks for asking.

Your Vocabulary Score: A

Congratulations on your multifarious vocabulary! You must be quite an erudite person.

How's Your Vocabulary?

Ow.

The night before last I decided I was hungry and I should make some food. Unfortunately I didn't really have anything to eat, so I went to the store. By the time I got home I was getting a headache because I needed something to eat.
Being hungry and lazy I just grabbed the first knife I saw to start cutting up potatoes. It was the one and only steak knife I own. It's a piece of crap and really the worst knife I could have picked to cut baby potatoes with. This was made painfully (very, very painfully) clear when the knife stuck in one of the potatoes (of course it had to be the last one I was cutting up) and I forced the knife through. Apparently I used a little too much force, as the knife sliced through not only the potato, but my finger as well.
It caught my index finger just above the top knuckle and cut through the tip. At first it was oddly numb, so I stuck the wounded appendage in my mouth and headed for the washroom. It wasn't bleeding much, so I ran it under some cold water.
Another bad idea.
This brought the feeling rushing back and started the blood gushing. Since I was
dripping everywhere, I wrapped it in some paper towel. Four to be exact. I bled through them all. After a few minutes of cursing and bleeding I managed to wrap my finger in several band-aids. I spent the rest of the night in pain and cursing every steak knife ever made. I also decided that I didn't need to go to the hospital.
Yesterday I changed the band-aid at my mother's suggestion. It was a pretty bad
idea, in that it started my finger bleeding again, me cursing and my finger hurting. But it did give me a chance to get a better look at it.
Without the gushing blood I could see that my previous asessment was incorrect. I really should have gotten stitches. It was also obvious why my fingernail had hurt so damned much (I wasn't even aware your fingernails could hurt), the knife cut right through to the underside of my nail.
At this point though, it's way too late to bother going to a doctor. My finger still hurts like a sonofabitch. The potatoes weren't bad, but not worth that much pain. And I think I'm going to throw that damned knife away.

I Hope This Explains How I Feel

I bitch a lot about stupid patrons at work, but sometimes I have trouble finding the right words to correctly express myself.
This Freakazoid clip (one of the best cartoons ever) clearly illustrates the way most patrons make me feel and what every ounce of will power I have is fighting to keep me from doing.

Okay, Seriously

I know I just posted about Pope Terrifying IXV, but I've quickly realized that the last thing I want to see as soon as I open this page is his pic. So here's The Nations of the World, which just happens to be one of my favourite Animaniacs bits.

Limbo: Cancelled

According to Yahoo News, the Pope has cancelled Limbo. Cancelled.
CANCELLED?
Is he allowed to do that? I mean, I know (based on this picture) that he probably eats the souls of the unbaptised*. But is he allowed to just say "Screw it, I'm tired of this Limbo shit. Go tell everyone I said it's a load of crap. We changed our minds."?
I was always pretty certain that you aren't allowed to just "change" a long standing belief and teaching within a religion whenever it doesn't work for you. But then I suppose they changed it to Limbo from "all unbaptised children go to HELL". Wasn't that sweet of them? I love when a group can play to the audience like that.
But seriously, this isn't just like them going back on "no meat on Friday", this is a big fucking back pedal because basically what they've changed is the "born with sin" idea. Now the Pope's decided that everyone is born clean.
I'm completely miffed by all of this and it's not even my religion. I've got to say this move certainly isn't instilling a great deal of confidence in the stability of the vatican's teachings and belief system. And remember, this is a religion that people have died for, killed for, gone to war for. This is religion that people build their whole lives around and it can change so drastically at the drop of a hat? You'll excuse me when I say that it sounds like a whole big steamy pile of bullshit to me.




*Seriously, in a club of fairly scary looking guys, to be know as the scariest you've got to be down right terrifying. This guy scares the hell out of me (no pun intended). There is nothing redeaming about him at all. Even when he smiles he looks like he's grimacing.
I mean I know he's german, but even that doesn't account for his mug. For years I thought my grandmother had cornered the market on the german scowl, but this puts her to shame.
Did they elect this guy in the hopes that he'd be able to scare everyone in to repenting? I'm sure the number of people going to confession, just out of fear of pissing him off, doubled at least.
I keep expecting him to sprout horns and breathing fire while begining to feast on the souls of the living.

I Love Will Ferrel

And I've actually found a kid that I like. Though if I had kids they'd probably sound like that too.

Just So Everyone Is Clear...

Stephen Colbert is the greatest living American (as well as being wicked hot).
Everybody got that?
Good.

*Insert Happy Noise Here*

I don't think it's even almost possible to express in words how much I want a pair of these incredible steampunk-licious specks. They are so awesome I could cry, you know, if I were human and did that sort of thing.

Hooray!

So, because I'm an inconsiderate bitch it didn't even occur to me to post this a couple of days ago when I heard about it. So to make amends, and without further ado - Congratulations Jeff! I'm so happy for you!

Ummm...

Can someone please explain what I just saw, because I'm a little afraid. Afraid and reasonably certain that Raquel Welch is insane.

Son Of A Bitch! pt. 3: the saga continues

Ever have one of those days where making it through without killing someone is a major accomplishment? Today was one of those days. By the end of it I was ready to strangle everyone within arms reach. Well, with one notable exception - more on that later.
Like I said earlier, it was crazy busy at work. It actually got worse as the day wore on. The holds took forever and the stream of trolleys was pretty much constant. It got to the point that the clerks would flinch and cower in fear every time they had another trolley to bring back.
Then I got to spend the evening with a person who seems to think that having children my age translates into her having seniority at work. Sorry, Sweet heart. I don't fucking think so. Please stop talking to me like I'm a ten year old who need to wear a helmet and rides the special bus to school before I toss you off the mezz. My own mother doesn't even talk to me like that. She knows better. And I know how much "We need to start pick-up" sounds like "Could you start putting away the paperbacks, because we have all fucking night", but I'll try to speak more clearly in future. Sorry for the confusion.
And the patrons. Oh, the patrons. When will beating these people be made legal? Although I have to admit that I'm constantly amazed that people who obviously can't read or count and have the attention span of a three year old on speed still manage to get themselves up, dressed (sort of) and make their way down to the library in the first place.
Nothing warms my heart more than watching someone pulling random things off the shelves and shoving them back in where ever and then having them ask me where a certain item is, because... wait for it... it's not where the computer said it would be. It takes every ounce of will power not to finally snap "Oh, it's not!? Well, some asshole probably decided that our system of organisation didn't work for them and stuck the fucking book on some random shelf somewhere, because as a patron that's their fucking right!"
But to be fair the Dewey Decimal Classification has only been around since 1876 and it does require that you know how to count, you know, to ten. Fuckwit.
As our patrons clearly can't count, I obviously can't expect them to be able to tell time. That's fine. That's why, in addition to our posting of library hours, we also provide a nifty little service. We announce fifteen minutes before closing that you need to start clearing out. Then again ten minutes before closing. And five minutes before. And finally right at closing. Seems simple enough. Not so.
As I'm trying desperately to finish cleaning up for the night, (because everything upstairs should be put away by 9pm and to be honest, I don't get paid for staying late) I encounter two of my very favourite people. Bling Bling and Last Minute Larry. Both are terrible for taking stacks of newspapers, from every conceivable folder and refusing to relinquish them until the very last possible second. Tonight was no exception. I wasn't even going to consider fighting them for their papers. I hit my "fuck it" point, which would have been all well and good had I not looked over just as the announcement that we were closed was made to see some stupid fuck digging through the magazines and taking more out! GAH!
Don't worry. It's okay. We all love to stay after hours and clean up after you. Oh, and we all get paid until you fuck off. We actually all live in the library basement. It's our home, our whole lives in fact. We have no friends and family outside the walls of our beloved library. So please, stay as long as you like. You fucking cock.
Oh and the exception I mentioned. The one person who didn't aggrivate the shit out of me this evening was actually a patron. He must have stumbled in to the library by accident. He was much to intelligent to be one of our patrons. He commented on my having to put things away and that it seemed like less fun activity while I was shelving CDs and I was polite (I don't mind when people are civil to me). He then asked if the CDs were in any actual order. I pointed out that they are in alphabetical order. Or at least they should be. Patrons like to make a mess of our order. He suggested that they were lazy or illiterate, I agreed. He then promised to be very careful and not to make a mess of the CDs and then managed to stay completely out of my way while I was working. I honestly don't care what his reasons for doing so were. I'm just glad that at least one person managed to behave like a civilized human being for once.
Yeah, I know, it's a long ass post that no one but myself is interested in. But it's my blog and I can do what I like. So there.
I had a bad day, leave me alone.

Son Of A Bitch! pt. 2

I can't even think straight right now. Seriously. What the fucking hell?
It's the first day back after the long weekend, which means it's crazy-go-nuts at work. Things pile up when the library is closed for three days, but this is insane.
Right now there are thirteen trolleys out on the floor (on a normal day there's usually about four) and six more waiting in the back (usually there are maybe two or three). On top of that there are three hundred and eight holds (on a bad day we would have two hundred, and even that is unusual). And then to make things really exciting, all but two of us called in sick. One person agreed to come in for an extra four hours later on, but until then it's just us.
The person who would normally check in the holds isn't here so the job falls to me. Looking at the three trolleys I have to deal with is making me feel sick.
It's going to be a very, very long night.
I think I'm going to cry.

Son Of A Bitch!

Okay, who's the jackass that ordered the snow? I want to know right now! It's bloody April and it's bloody snowing! Big, shitty, wet snow flakes! Everything was finally drying out and for the most part, snow free and now we're back to this.
Fucking stupid everything.

Natalie Dee

If you haven't been by to check out Natalie Dee yet, you should. The single panel comics are awesome. For example: See Above.

Thanks But No Thanks

It drives me crazy when people can't seem to accept a gift and just say thank you.
See, I'm broke. I have been for a long time and that's fine. I get by and I'm not starving or anything, so whatever. I also like to do things for people. Which is where the problem comes in. My friends and family know I don't have a lot of money, but don't seem to understand that I know that I don't have a lot of money. So every time I try to do something nice for someone or buy them something it turns into an argument.
"You shouldn't have done that! You can't afford it!" or "Let me pay you back!"
"No, that's okay. My treat."
"But you can't afford that."
"Oh, can't I? Here I thought I was a million-fucking-aire! Silly me!"
Honestly, I know I'm fucking broke. I know it better than anyone, that's kind of the thing about being broke. So I really don't need everyone pointing it out to me every fucking time I do anything. I understand you're trying to help me out, but you're really just making me feel like a bigger loser.
I don't know how I can make this any clearer but when I do have some extra cash, it makes me feel like I have that much more by being able to give things to the people I care about. I get more out of the things that I get for others than I ever get out of the things I get for me. And it just sends me crashing back down when I have it thrown back in may face.
It's a gift. Say thank you and take it for what it is. I don't need your pity and I don't need your damned charity.

Not Quite TMNT

Recently in Minneapolis a city worker was down in the sewers doing some work when he was sprayed in the face with blood.
My favourite part of the article I found this new is was this:

When asked if it's safe to have blood in the sewers, the (Metropolitan) Council said it is no more harmful than most other wastes in the sewer.

The Tooth Fairy Doesn't Like The Middle Aged

Apparently if you're between the ages of 30 - 40 and you start loosing your teeth, you should start getting your affairs in order.

Actual loss of teeth suggests a disease that has been ongoing for some 15, 20 years without being detected," Professor Birgitta Soder, one of the study's authors, told the Goteborgs-Posten newspaper.

I love happy news in the morning...

Writing Letters Is Fun!

So for anyone who may not have heard this yet, it is possibly the best break-up letter in the entire history of the world. I would highly recommend taking a few minutes out of your day to bask in the glory of our education system at work.

Things I Previously Had Little Interest In

Best. Tie. Ever.

Beam Me Up, Scotty

James Doohan was the man. He was one of the biggest reasons I love Star Trek: TOS and it was a sad day when the world lost our beloved Scotty.
But wait. His story doesn't end there. No, sir. The man who was Scotty is headed back to the stars, back to space, back to where no man has ever gone before. James Doohan's cremated remains are going to be shot in to space on April 28th. (Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd write.)

Along with James Doohan’s cremated remains will also travel the ashes of one of NASA’s first space travelers, Mercury astronaut Gordon Cooper, aboard a privately-built rocket set to launch from New Mexico this month.
The launch of a SpaceLoft XL rocket built by the private firm UP Aerospace is scheduled for April 28. SL-2, as it has been dubbed, will lift off from Spaceport America, a state-funded launch site near Upham, New Mexico and about 45 miles (72 kilometers) north of the city of Las Cruces.

Two to beam up, I guess.

Wait... You Did What!?

Keith Richards is officially no longer human. Actually the jury's still out on whether or not he ever was, and I have to say that it's not looking good for him. I can't even think of anything to call him that wouldn't insult everyone else in that group. He defies description.
In a recent interview he had this to say:

"The strangest thing I've tried to snort?" the Sun quoted Richards as saying in its early Wednesday edition. "My father. I snorted my father. He was cremated and I couldn't resist grinding him up with a little bit of blow. My dad wouldn't have cared. It went down pretty well and I'm still alive."

Now as mind boggling as that is, I have to admit I'm impressed he said anything. Anything the interviewer could understand anyway. Is it just me, or is he even trying to speak english any more? I'm pretty sure it's just a series of mumbles, grunts and his disgusting raspy smoker's laugh.

*update* Though I'm not surprised to hear that this is a joke (remember that I said I was impressed he had said, you know, words... that people could understand...) I'm still pretty sure Keith Richards is not human.

Excuse Me...

Do I have a fucking stutter or do you just not understand english? When I say out I mean out. Right. Fucking. Now. And if you think I'm kidding you've got another thing coming. Do you not comprehend that you are on really fucking thin ice!? Because my patience has run out. Completely. You're out of chances. I'm fucking pissed and if you push me right now I'm going to fucking snap.

FYI

Sarah apparently isn't Jesus. And I wasn't supposed to quote her on that.

Fantastic

I'm pretty sure this is one of the best tattoos I've seen in a long time. It's a really great idea and it was carried out perfectly.

You Bet Your Life

While I'm sure that most of you won't have a clue what I'm going on about (unlike all those other times, when I make perfect sense), You Bet Your Life is one of those (very) rare examples of a movie star doing a TV show without it being sad. Groucho always shines, no matter what he was in and this clip is no exception. The only thing about this clip is that for as much as he shines, this sweet old lady outshines him, just by being herself.
It makes me laugh every time I see it.

I Can't Make Stuff Like This Up, Folks

Mr. Sheepman, here we come!
This raises that age old question. Just because you can, does that mean you should?
In other news, South Korea is cloning considerably less cuddly animals. But to be fair, they have given them incredibly lame names to make up for it.
Now I'm just going to sit back and wait for the conspiracy theorists to start talking about how South Korea is amassing an army of attack clones.

FYI

Being a tax payer DOES NOT make you exempt from paying library fines. It's not my fault that your dumb ass racked up $70 in fines. And don't tell us you're an accountant. That doesn't make it better. In fact, it makes it worse. Much worse.

Not How I Want To Go Down In History

Apparently, if you Google "crazy whities killing iraqs", this site is top of the list. Why do I know this? Because Site Meter told me so.
I find this strange because, well, so far as I know my site has nothing to do with that. So if you're here looking for "crazy whities killing iraqs", you're in the wrong place.
Oh, and please seek help. I'm pretty sure there's something wrong with you.

Another Birthday

If you've been coming here a while or know me at all, you'll forgive me while I state the obvious. I'm a Marx Bros. fan. I think I've got just about all of their movies and I love them all. Despite having seen them enough times to know them inside and out, they still make me laugh. So today is a special day.
It's Leonard Marx's Birthday! I'd say that you probably know him better as Chico... but then I don't expect many of you know him at all. Well it's my blog and I love him, so there.
The video clip is from Animal Crackers, It's one of my favourite scenes in one of my favourite movies. And if you don't get the line "I'm a dreamer, Montreal." please go away.
Happy Birthday, Chico.

Today's Secret Word Is "Apeshit"

We've got lots of regulars at work. They all have their own reasons for hanging out at the library all day, everyday. We don't ask, some tell us anyway. Some we enjoy, some we hate. But whatever their reasons, whether we like it or not, there they are. Day after day. The constant and more memorable regs get their own nicknames. Not that we ever tell them, but we know them all.
They're all fairly obvious nicknames, so we all know who we're talking about. Like Mr. Balls (the guy who carries around a duffel full of various kind of balls. He likes to fondle them. No, I'm not making that up. He used to be stink-and-stare, but Mr. Balls is so much better.), Bling-bling (the guy who's always wearing more gold chains than Mr. T.), Mr. Beefeater Gin (the creepy old guy who used to drink in the back corner and thought no one knew.), Paper Friend (the guy who used to come in and take twenty papers at a time and leave us with a huge mess), Mr. Magoo (the guy with the big thick glasses, who knows everything about everything... don't get him started.), Wig Lady and Albert (a brother and sister team, old as the hills and cranky as hell. I've never heard Albert speak, he just gives everyone dirty looks. One of my coworkers once thought Wig Lady was dead.), Little Ming Pao (an ancient and very tiny asian man who doesn't speak a word of english, who come in just to read the Ming Pao. He's one of many "Ming Pao" regs, but certainly our favourite.) and Nazi Guy or the Broad Street Brawler (Severely racist and schizophrenic. It's a bad combination. As much as I know a lot of his problems aren't his fault, it doesn't make me any more willing to put up with a bigot.)
Today one of our regs (as tends to happen every once in a while) went apeshit.
Creepy eyebrow guy, aside from the obvious creepiness of the looks he gives people, is just generally creepy and no one like him. He was having trouble with his card and accessing the internet. I could hear him talking to someone about it clear across the library. He was getting angrier and angrier as he went along. I finally had to see who he was yelling at (hoping it would be The Asshole), so I poked my head out of the isle I was in. To my surprise it was our library head, who wasn't budging.
C.E.G. decided to up the ante. He went from being on the verge of yelling to full on hollering. I don't think anyone in the library missed it. He also decided to play the race card. He was loosing the argument and he figured it was the ace up his sleeve.
Guess again.
Yelling at the top of your lungs that the library is racist and then yelling "Fuck you!" at the top of your lungs at the library head is not the best move to make. Especially when there are people of a number of different races all using the computers without incident. Also the library, to my knowledge, hasn't yet implemented any policies to fuck with you and you alone. And just to clairify, when the library follows it policies in regards to replacing a card and you don't like how it works, that doesn't make us racist (the same rules apply to everyone), that does not mean we're discriminating against you (It's the same procedure for everyone) and we're not depriving you of your rights (I'm pretty sure there's nothing stating it's your right to act like an asshole and disrupt everyone's day).
Besides all that, screaming obscenities in a public place, to my knowledge, has never gotten anyone what they want. People tend to take back any of the offers they may have made to try and rectify your problem as soon as you resort to this tactic.
So our C.E.G. has been banned. We're all glad to see him go, really. I can only hope it's permanent. He's been more trouble than he's worth since the first day he set foot in the library.

You've Got To Be Kidding

First a bit of backstory.
I've developed tendinitis again, which sucks. Normally I get it in my left hand/wrist, this time it's my right. I went yesterday and bought a new brace (my old one is left hand only) and I've been generally cautious with it. I don't want it to last any longer than it has to, so aggravating it by trying to do to much would be a bad idea. Not only that but it hurts, a lot. So if I do try and do to much I get a very clear reminder of why I'm supposed to be careful.
At work, it's part of my job to collect and refile the magazines and newspapers at intervals throughout the day. There are always a lot of magazines, they're heavy and awkward to work with and the sorting table we have is small and way too low. But it's what we've got to do, so we deal with it.
We're doing pick-up more often right now because we're doing a magazine survey. That means we collect and sort the magazines and then mark down how many of each magazine was pulled from the shelves. That's all well and good but it does take much longer to finish because of the recording and patrons being uncooperative.
Today we went up to do pick-up at 12:30, like always. Collected and sorted them in to their piles. After that they need to be put in alphabetical order and recorded. Due to my tendinitis, lifting and sorting the piles is just out of the question. I can barely lift one book, let alone a ten pound pile of slippery magazines. So I asked one of the ladies I was working with (Let's call her Ms. X) if she would mind sorting and I would do the recording. She didn't have a problem with that. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one I was working with.
The Bitch was in today as well. And of course she acted in a completely rational, professional and compassionate manner.
While giving me a dirty look (about the fourth today) she said in her oh-so-snotty tone, "You're going to have to get better. You have a job to do, you know."
Oh! Is that why I go to the library all the time? I have a job to do! Here I thought that I was just there to fuck around and take in the atmosphere.
"I know I do," I said, fighting the urge to backhand her (more for the sake of my hand than her face). "I'm trying to. It's not like I'm having fun with this."
And this might come as a complete shock, but I'm really not having fun with this. I'm not enjoying not being able to use my hand. I'm not enjoying being in pain. And I'm really not enjoying your bullshit.
"Well, we're not having fun either." She shoots back at me.
Oh, well excuse me. I didn't realize I was that big a drain on your fucking day.
How can anyone think that this is any way to talk to someone? What would possibly make you think that it's okay to act like such a fucking bitch to someone who's hurt?
Because it's my fault my hand is fucked up, right? Because I really love loosing half a day's pay because I have to go home to rest my hand, right? Because I'm just fucking faking it, right?
What the fuck is wrong with you rude, useless, pain in the ass, bitch? God, I fucking hate you.

I've Got A Bad Feeling About This

I woke up this morning with a massive headache and in hopes of breaking my stupid habit of trying to sleep it off, I actually got up and took some pills.
They didn't work.
So then I drank some water, thinking I was dehydrated.
No dice.
Then I took some anti-histamines... I know, I like pills. Leave me alone.
Still nothing.
Now I'm just out of it and dizzy as all hell, on top of my headache. Oh, and did I mention I'm at work? And I've developed tendinitis, again.
It's going to be a very long day. (I'm not even going to try and explain how long it took me to write this post. I kept typing everything wrong.)

I Swear This Isn't A Girly Thing

After a month of complaining and suffering with my ratty old runners, patching them with duct tape, walking around with a soggy foot when the tape fell off - I finally got new shoes. I'm really not a "shoe person", but I have to say I'mecstatic. Especially because they were having a sale, so I got two pairs for $50. Whoo! (I'm not a shoe person, but I am a sale person) I also managed (for the third time in a row) to buy the exact same pair as my old shoes. I think I'm just going to create an art exhibit around my old shoes.
Once I have some, I'll post a picture of the disaster that are my old shoes.

John Hodgman, I Think I Love You

If you haven't read or heard John Hodgman's Areas of My Expertise yet, you should stop reading and go remedy that. Right now. It's brilliant and you're life is incomplete without it.
I've been listening to the wonderfully funny Mr. Hodgman reading his masterpiece on my iPod, but I've had to stop listening to it in public. When you suddenly burst out laughing in the middle of a crowded bus people get the idea that you're crazy, though it's best way to get a seat to yourself.
On a side note... Within the book there lies a list. The list contains 700 hobo names. The list could not go ignored by the artistic peoples of the world. No, no, no. So in addition to Areas of My Expertise you may also bow before the might that is The 700 Hobos Project!
You can also listen to the list here.

Ode To A Pecker Head

Dear Asshole,
I know you may not know me, I understand it must be hard to see anyone with your head that far up your ass. But I know you. Trust me, we all do. Pricks like you tend to get a lot of notice.
I would also understand that you don't know me as you seem to think you're so far above me. Trust me, fuckwit, getting paid more doesn't put you above me. It never has and it never will. You're still a little bitch.
I'm addressing you because, aside from your normal aggravating antics, you're pissing me off. A lot. So I just want to clear the air on why.
First off, like I said, you make a fair amount of money. So it would be nice to see you work for it once and a while. I'm getting sick as hell of having to do your fucking job for you. When someone asks you for help finding something, it is in fact your job to help them. Standing up behind your desk and pointing to the general location of an item is NOT helping. You actually have to get up and walk
over to where the item is.
See the problem is, if you don't, in twenty minutes when they can't find what they're looking for they certainly aren't going to go back to you. You didn't help the first
time, why would you the second? So they're going to come ask me.
Second off, since you're such a useless fuck, calling other people's competence in to question is a really, really bad idea. Especially when you're doing it to cover your own ass. We all know how to do our jobs and we all know when you're full of shit about something.
And lastly, we all know that you take things without checking them out. You're not fooling anyone. That's tantamount to stealing, you stupid fuck.
You've got no allies left and no one is going to put up with
your shit much longer. Consider that next time you get all high and mighty.

Hey You! Off My Planet!

Can someone please tell me what the fuck is up with Jared Leto? I seriously thought we were all done with this freak years ago. But no, he's back. And creepier than ever.
More than one site I've visited in the last week has posted pictures of "fat" and "anorexic" Jared. I'd love to tell you what sprung to mind when I saw the pics, but I don't have words for it. My brain just kind of recoiled in horror. I'm not sure which version of his is worse, but both seem to be wearing the droopiest tighty whities known to man (just typing that made me gag). And they all look like the kind of pictures some nerd/freak/pervert takes of himself in his basement with an old polariod. (I'd post them, but honestly, I don't want to look at them ever again)
What happened to the good old days when everyone had forgotten who this guy was? Suddenly I'm reading about his shitty band and seeing pictures of him in the lamest Emo-wear available. He's threatening Elijah Wood (not that I'm discouraging threatening him, it's just rediculous that Jared Leto threatens anybody) for not liking his band. And now he's getting mangled at his own concert (not that I'm surprised, if I went to a concert and realised it was 30 Seconds to Mars I'd probably mangle him too) and people actually care! What the fuck?

And who is the fuck-up that started answering OJ Simpson's calls again? Here's another looser I thought we were done with. Why can't people accept their shame and shunning quietly and do everyone a big favour by just fucking off?
After stunning the world with his own stupidity by publicly announcing "If I had done it" or whatever the hell the book was called, you'd think that any lingering interest in him would have vanished completely. Everyone had finally gotten to a place in their lives where guilty-not guilty didn't matter any more. He'd faded, nicely. But he couldn't just leave with what little dignity he had left (and it is very little), he had to slap everyone in the face and say "Look at me! I'm so ridiculous I've started to morph into a cartoon villain!"
There was a brief moment when I was actually hopeful that it was the end. There couldn't possibly be more. When the plug was pulled on the book (the drugs must have worn off) and he was a laughingstock, that it was over. He'd surely go away again. But you see what even a little optimism gets you? Disappointment and pain, folks. Every time.
Now he's at it again, claiming that Anna Nicole's baby is his. Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?

Finally Britney Spears.
Sweetheart, no one is laughing with you any more. They're all laughing at you. You're stupid, sad, annoying, insane, drugged up and washed out and it's all your own fault. Life's a bitch, eh?
You had a pretty good thing going there for a while and then you married the most aggravating leech on the planet. And bore his children. You got fat and showed us all how disgusting you really are (we would have worked it out eventually, but you just kind of threw it in our faces. Didn't you?). Men's penises around the world wept at your acne-ridden, cheese puff smeared, nasty self. And we all watched as you moved into a tie with Michael Jackson for "most questionable judgement regarding child safety".
I never thought I'd see the day where I would catch myself thinking that those children would be better of with K-Fed. But here it is.
I'd suggest suicide, but after a month of being subjected to all of Anna Nicole's bullshit, I really hope you don't. Freaks of that magnitude seem to become even more annoying postmortem. So could you do us all a favour and fuck right off?
Thanks.

Holy Crap

This NES mod is so awesome it almost made my head explode.

Chuck Norris

No matter how bad my day is going, these make me laugh.

Crop circles are Chuck Norris' way of telling the world that sometimes corn needs to lie down.

Chuck Norris is ten feet tall, weighs two-tons, breathes fire, and could eat a hammer and take a shotgun blast standing.

Chuck Norris drives an ice cream truck covered in human skulls.

If you spell Chuck Norris in Scrabble, you win. Forever.

Chuck Norris once shot down a German fighter plane with his finger, by yelling, "Bang!"

Chuck Norris has two speeds: Walk and Kill.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is based on a true story: Chuck Norris once swallowed a turtle whole, and when he crapped it out, the turtle was six feet tall and had learned karate.

When Chuck Norris falls in water, Chuck Norris doesn't get wet. Water gets Chuck Norris.

Chuck Norris CAN believe it's not butter.

Chuck Norris can divide by zero.

Chuck Norris always knows the EXACT location of Carmen SanDiego.

When taking the SAT, write "Chuck Norris" for every answer. You will score over 8000.

There are no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, Chuck Norris lives in Oklahoma.

Chuck Norris doesn't believe in Germany.

Some people wear Superman pajamas. Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas.

Superman once watched an episode of Walker, Texas Ranger. He then cried himself to sleep.

Chuck Norris recently had the idea to sell his urine as a canned beverage. We know this beverage as Red Bull.

An anagram for Walker Texas Ranger is KARATE WRANGLER SEX. I don't know what that is, but it sounds AWESOME.

The Evil Remote Head

This literally made me laugh until I cried.

On A Happier Note

I read a piece about about Julie Marie Nemecek earlier today, which was good. But it got me thinking about this kid I met a while ago (especially after watching the TG youth video on their site). It the second time this week that I've thought of this kid, so I thought I'd share.
Years ago I used to face paint at kids parties and events and things (hard to believe, I know). I met literally thousands of kids over the years I was working. Only a very few stand out in my mind. But then I'd only see each kid for maybe 4 minutes, it's not a long time to make a lasting impression. (Generally, they all remember you and you have trouble even remembering what event they're talking about.) Anyway, this one kid, I will NEVER forget. I don't like kids, but this kid I loved.
He was maybe 6 or 7, just a little kid and he was at this other kid's birthday party. It was a fairly typical party, a few boys, a few girls. The girls all wanted to be butterflies and kitty cats. The boys all wanted super heroes. Then this kids sits down in front of me, he wasn't in-your-face but he wasn't timid either. I smiled at him (my very practiced, face painter's smile) and asked what he'd like to be. I waited for the inevitable "Spider-man!" or "Batman!", etc.
Instead he looked at me as calmly and with as much certainty as I've ever seen from anyone and said without hesitation "I want to be a princess."
That was the only kid at that party and countless others that got a real smile.
I've had hundreds of kids ask me to be painted exactly the same as their friends, listen to others tell them what to be and change their minds because someone laughed at what they wanted. I painted them all like they asked and I don't remember any of them beyond that.
My only question for this kid regarding his decision was what colour eyeshadow he wanted. He picked blue, which got another smile. In the end he had red lipstick, blue eye shadow, gold stars and a tiara and he was the happiest kid at the party.
"You're all done!" I said and handed him the mirror. "I think you're the best princess here."
He smiled with his whole face and gave the biggest thank-you I've gotten to date.
When he went back to the party I saw a couple boys giggle and I was getting ready to smack some kids upside the head. But this guy just brushed it off, found himself a good toy and got back to playing with the others.
If I live to be a thousand, I seriously doubt I will ever meet a cooler kid than him.

Update

I've removed a few links and added some new ones. Just so you know. You may resume your life.

Bill O'Reilly

Is the world's biggest douche bag.
I'm pretty sure I'd rather hug George Bush than have to stand in the same room with this ignorant asshole.
And seriously, could someone smack the stupid out of Oprah?

I'm Not Good At Staying Quiet

It's not often that I can manage to keep my mouth shut when I'm pissed off (as some of the more observant of you may have noticed), but if it means avoiding what would be a completely inappropriate fight I'll bite my tongue. However, I can't do it forever or I'd be liable to bite right through the fucking thing. I mean, really, how long am I supposed to stand there and let you carry on before I finally say something? How long do you expect people to put up with your bullshit and remain quiet?
Well I'm coming dangerously close to my breaking point. As my mother would say, you're skating on awfully thin ice. And I'm not someone who is easily intimidated.
I'm not impressed by seniority and I'm certaintly not impressed with your attitude problem. I have one of my own and it's a damn good one, if I do say so myself.
And let me just make this perfectly clear - it's not that you don't like me. (Lots of people don't like me. I don't give a shit, I'm not here for you to like.) It's that you feel the need to play fucking games with me. I don't take hints, I don't accept bullshit guilt and I DO NOT PLAY GAMES. You want to say something to me, fucking say it.
I'm sick and fucking tired of wondering which personality I'm going to have to put up with today. When you're bitchy I haven't got a clue why. When you're happy I'm wondering what you want from me.
I tried being nice. I got an icy stare and silence. I tried avoiding you. You just got bitchier when you caught up with me. I tried ignoring you. The dirty looks I got, you'd think I called your mother a whore and said Hitler was a great guy.
What the fuck do you want from me? You don't want me there but you're pissed off when I leave. My fucking cats are more clear about what they want and they don't speak. The one time you did verbalize your anger it was over something that had nothing to do with me! And then I hear that you apologized to SOMEONE ELSE for snapping at ME!
Wait! I think I just worked it out.
You're insane.
Seek help. And stay away from me until you do.

From Me To You 18

Here we go again...

- Hate me, love me, I don't care. But could you pick one and go with it? This jumping back and forth shit is getting real old, real fast. Stop acting like fucking Cybil, you're just pissing everyone off.

- I know that I get mad and yell at my cats when they misbehave. That does not, ever, make it okay for you to do so. EVER. It's kind of like yelling at someone else's kids. You just don't do it. Or trust me, you will be entering a whole new world of pain when I get my hands on you. Understood?

- If you're headed for the check-out at the drugstore at the same time as a lady holding tampons, midol and chocolate - just let her go ahead of you man. Seriously, it's not worth it.

- Don't ask for advice you don't want and then bitch about it. Fuck you, asshole. You asked, I answered. You don't like it? Too fucking bad. Do I seem like the kind of person who sugar-coats things?

- Tendonitis sucks. A lot. Trust me.

I Think Things

I'm pretty sure the song "Goodbye Horses" has been forever tainted by Silence of the Lambs (or Clerks II for those of you who just crawled out from under your rock recently). If I live to be a thousand I will never be able to hear that song and not immediately think "Would you fuck me? I'd fuck me. I'd fuck me hard." and of course... the tuck (or "man-gina" as Eh Steve taught us many moons ago)

Five Things You Didn't Know About Me

I found a great new foodie blog and in and amongst some excellent recipes I found this. As I'm bored and having a less than creative day I thought I'd do one of my own.

1. When I'm having a bad day or I just need to relax, I grocery shop. I've discovered the art of shopping Zen, but only at the grocery store. I think it has a lot to do with the lack of guilt. I need food so if I spend a little more than I should I can't be too upset with myself. But the delicate balance that is shopping Zen is ruined if I try and shop with someone.

2. Sometimes if I can't sleep I go for a drive. It doesn't matter where, I just like to drive around at 3 in the morning. Especially in the summer.

3. I'm terrible for picking at things. Nail polish, peeling paint, labels, anything. I don't know why. This becomes worse when I drink... I get downright destructive.

4. I'm not afraid of too much but I have a serious phobia of ticks. There's no real reason for it, but I can't deal with them. I also can't even get close enough to a moth to kill it. They freak my shit out.

5. I love trying new foods. Apart from meaty stuff there really isn't much I won't try at least once. Actually I have a policy about trying things at least twice, sometimes it's better the second time around. I usually try to get at least one thing a month from the store that I've never tried before.

Awesome Flowchart

It's not often I use the words "awesome" and "flowchart" in the same sentence, in fact I would go as far as to say this is the first time. But wellingtongrey.net has changed my mind on the whole flowchart issue.
The What Would George W. Bush Do? chart is great and I would also highly recommend Science vs. Faith.
Anyway, I can't imagine the subject of flowcharts will come up again. So if you have some kind of horrible flowchart phobia, I'm sorry, this won't be an issue from here on out.

Dangerous? You Don't Say

Apparently, swallowing swords is dangerous. I would have never guessed. But it must be true, as this article surely wouldn't lie, would it?

Death Kitty and the Fat Man

This is one of my favourite cartoons ever. I love the Terry S. Taylor style music and I love the animation style. I just love the whole thing. A lot.

More Reasons To Belive That God Hates Me

It's been almost a week since I've slept more than 4 hours in a night.
I'm slowly loosing my mind. It wasn't so bad over my days off, but now I'm at work and the novelty has worn off... big time.
I'm exhausted and I still can't sleep. When I do sleep it's a shitty sleep. 12 hours of Carnivale didn't put me to sleep. A rather stiff drink didn't put me to sleep. I
think my brain is melting. Soon they're going to find me slumped over in the back room, drooling, with melted brain running out of my nose andsome one's gonna have to clean that up.
The on top of my not being able to think straight, my lovely cat decided it would be a really good idea to scare the shit out of me. And of course, because he's so wonderful, decided that just as I was leaving for work would be a good time.
While I was getting ready for work I heard something hit the floor in the kitchen. I have cats, so that's nothing unusual and I didn't go running to investigate. I should have.
When I got around to walking to the kitchen I found a bottle of prescription meds broken open on the floor and my cat in the middle of them, looking suspiciously like he'd been having a nibble. I'd love to tell you I took all this in stride and handled it with my usual zen-like grace, I'd love to, but it would make me a big fat liar.
I freaked.
I had no idea how many pills were left so I couldn't count the and find out if he'd actually eaten one and I had to go to work. So I called work and told them I was going to be late and then set about trying to coax my idiot of a cat out from
behind the couch. He had of course taken my freak out as my being angry at him and so made himself scarce.
I finally resorted to pulling out the can opener just to get him to come out. I checked his mouth and found nothing but teeth, a tongue and some cat breath. Then I called the vet to see what they had to say. After ten minutes we worked out that if he had actually eaten one it wasn't going to kill him, it would probably just make him a little woozy.
How is it possible to love and hate one animal so much at the same time?

Sweet Googley-Moogley! Again!

Mario Bros. has got to be my all time favourite theme ever, so here it is again by a band that clearly rocks if for no other reason than that they have Mario Bros. sound fx on their keyboard.

And by the way, you can see a bunch more of these here.

Sweet Googley-Moogley!

It's not very often I use words like cool and sweet and kick-ass to decribe someone playing the flute, but this guy doesn't just play the flute, he kicks that flutes ass.

You Know What I Don't Love?

A lot of stuff... but that is beside the point. At this particular moment I'm talking about having a drunken roommate stumble in at 10pm smelling like some of the gamier library patrons.
I honestly have the worst sense of smell ever. Most of the time I can't smell anything at all, but this smell broke through the smell barrier. What's even better is that she had been drinking so she came right in to my room to talk to me and the smell is one that's going to linger. I couldn't even be polite about it.
I think my response was something along the lines of "Fuck dude, you stink! Really bad! Like stale booze and cigarettes!" And I'd like to tell you I stopped there, but that would make me a liar now wouldn't it? I followed it up with "Seriously, you smell like the weirdos who hang out at the library."
She wasn't really upset by what I said, but she left to get something out of her room. In her absents I tried my damnedest to shoo the smell away and then, much to my dismay she came back. Again displaying my amazing tact I blurted "Don't come back in here, you fucking reek!"
Luckily her boyfriend was waiting in the car for her and she's gone again for the rest of the night (although I think it will probably take the rest of the night for the smell to dissipate).
It's a good thing I'm not some heartless jerk, or I could have really said something rude.

Old News, I Know

But some people seriously haven't seen this shit before.
So for all the folks who are unaware of Penny Arcade, I would suggest you check it out now. Bask in its genius.
And just for fun, here are a few that make me laugh.




This one reminds me of Steve. Seriously, if he had blond hair it would be bang on.

Mango

I hate cell phones and after having one for a year (and subsequently ridding myself of the infernal thing) I swore I'd never get another one, but this toon is so awesome I would almost consider getting one just to have it as my ringtone. But I'd probably never answer my phone as I'd be too interested in listening to the song and less so in whatever you're calling about.

Guillermo del Toro, I Think I Love You

It's Naiomi's birthday today and she wanted to go to a movie. Without any prompting from me she chose Pan's Labyrinth and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't ecstatic.
Months ago I'd read an article about it's upcoming release and they had a few pictures of some of the make-up. I was, unfortunately, at work at the time so shrieking with excitement seemed like a bad idea. When I noticed that it was directed by Guillermo del Toro (director of my much beloved Hellboy) it was all I could do to keep myself from collapsing with joy.
But I had to stop myself.
In my world, This much pre-viewing excitement is usually followed by post-viewing disappointment on a soul crushing, earth shattering, mind melting level. It's happened too many times before. I get so worked up about seeing a movie that it's impossible for it to live up to my expectations. I can't shirk all the blame for this, I know that my expectations are too high, but I also know that some of the blame lies also with the movie makers.
This was not the case tonight. Not by a long shot. I can say with all honesty that Pan's Labyrinth not only reached but completely surpassed all of my expectations, easily. It's the first time anything like that has happened in years and I could cry, it makes me so happy.
I could go on at length about how much I loved the story (which I did), about how beautiful in their grittiness the sets are (which they are), and about how perfect the make-up and animatronics are (which they most certainly are), but I'll spare you. All I can say is see the movie.
Oh, and Guillermo, seriously, I think I'm in love. You ever need someone to come and work for you, just call. I'll work for free. Happily.

Flavors Of What Now?

I found this pic while surfing around earlier and it made me laugh so hard I had to share. This page explains where this place is and that Negros is a province in the Philippines. Somehow though, I doubt that the general public is aware of that.

Stupid Snow Garbage

I hate snowy days like today. I don't hate the snow so much, just the kind of snow that's falling at the moment.
It's that pissy, blowing, shitty snow. If it were rain it would be drizzle. I hate drizzle. I don't mind mist and I like the rain, but I hate drizzle. It's like it can't make up its mind and this is the snow version of it. It's falling in hard, compact beads that sting your skin when they hit instead of fluffy flakes.
It's snow garbage. Snow that didn't make the grade. If it was trying out for the flake squad, it would be the first to be cut.
That's right, I've gotten to a point in my bitterness that I'm attacking the snow.

Digital?

I borrowed my Dad's old 35mm camera as I haven't used a 35mm in forever and it's actually a really good camera and you can do lots of cool things with it. Yesterday I had off and it was the kind of day I was waiting for, foggy and frosty, leaving lots of opportunity of interesting pictures. So I headed out in search of stuff to photograph.
I took some pictures of the frosty evergreens in the alley and eventually ended up at the old cemetary (yeah I know, how very goth of me).
I was looking for interesting headstones and set ups. I found lots, but it took me about 3 hours and lots of trudging through the snow. By the time I was done I was tried and cold and my jeans were soaked to the knees (luckily the car was warm). I had also gone through two rolls of film.
It was around this time that I noticed that the camera had advanced passed 24 pics on the second roll. I (in an unfortunate moment of optimism) thought that it must me a 36 roll.
Nope.
I loaded the fucking camera wrong!
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I lost an hour and a halfs worth of work and 24 pictures and by that time the fog was lifting and the frost had melted. I did get a few lost pistures back by going back out in to the snow. But for the most part they're gone. All gone.
I could cry.
Stupid everything.

It Works!

I finally got to test out my vacuum forming thing last night (not that I expect anyone to know or care about this) and it works perfectly! Woohoo! The only problem I had I think can be rectified by heating the plastic longer or hotter.
The next step is to start playing around with the Agar and see what ratios work best and then on to the sugar glass.

Things I Think At 7.45am

I woke up at 7am this morning, I don't know why and I can't say I'm real happy about it. Anyway, here are some random thoughts I had while not sleeping.

- Working in such a public place, I find it astounding that we don't have more serious problems come up - patron's health-wise I mean. Most people who work a lot with the public seem to have all sorts of stories of people having heart attacks, O.D.ing, having seizures, etc. In two and a half years I've only seen one person have a seizure at the Library. Though with the number of elderly who come to the library, I keep expecting one of them to drop over while reading the paper.
Not that I want anything like that to start happening, I honestly wouldn't know what to do.

- Why is it when you stop seeing someone, drift apart, etc. they seem to get stuck at the age you last saw them in your mind. Or am I the only one who's like that?
This chick I used to be friends with had a kid who was three the last time I saw her. I don't know why but it occurred to me that her kid would be nine now. That blew my mind. I can't imagine what she must be like. I can't even imagine what she might look like. Sweet Jesus, nine!

- Why the fuck does my wall clock seem so quiet during the day but at night it gets so damned loud? Even when I'm just sitting around reading and the house is quiet during the day it still doesn't seem as loud as in the middle of the night. I swear that fucking thing is messing with me.

Almost As Good As Lipstick

Finally! Someone has given people who know how to park a way to strike back at the asshole parkers of the world! Now you can print off your own tickets and keep them with you at all times.
Enjoy.

Stupid Everything

It's been kind of a shit day today.
I woke up this morning with a monster of a headache... Well actually I woke up at 4.30 this morning on the couch, with the TV on. So I stumble over and turn it off and then flick off the lights and head to bed. Somewhere in there I managed to do something that made my head hurt. I didn't hit my head or anything, but by the time I reached my bed I had a splitting headache.
Silly me, I decided that I'd just ignore it and try to sleep it off instead of getting out of bed and stumbling blindly through the dark in search of painkillers and something to wash them down with. I don't know what made me think that was a good idea. I've done it before and every time the same thing happens - I have a shitty sleep and I wake up tired and in pain. (Though, in my defence, if I had taken the painkillers at 4.30 I would have woken up feeling sick to my stomach.)
Anyway, I took some drugs when I got up and got my pain to a tolerable level (the painkillers still made me feel sick, best I can figure is because God hates me and is trying to make me miserable). I then checked my computer which has been working on downloading a few episodes of MST3K (and taking its sweet time I might add). Despite having started yesterday it was only about half way through. So rather than surfing the net like I had planned I only checked my email.
Jess emailed to ask if I wanted to go for lunch. So I called her and we made plans. I was happy to have an excuse to get out of the house and talk to someone other than my parents, my roommate or my cats and not be work related.
I headed over to the restaurant early and dragged my sketch book along as I haven't actually sat down and just sketched for a long time. I got a parking spot right outside the door and really thought my day was looking up... Too bad I was also looking up, had I been looking down at the ground I probably would have seen that patch of ice.
I didn't hit the ground, but I did catch my arm on the door. That's the kind of pain that makes your fingers all tingly. It also turned into a nasty lump almost immediately. Now it's kind of blue green and hurts like a son of a bitch.
After lunch I had a doctor's appointment. I spent about an hour talking to her and left with a comically long list of things I'm supposed to take. Amongst the gag-inducing entries are things like fish oil, oil of oregano and Borage comlpex. I can't help but thinking of the scene from Toys when Joan Cusack is eating a white bread and suppliment pill sandwich.
Now I've got an hour to kill before I head over to Kelly's. With any luck God will have found someone else to pester by then, it's not likely, but one can hope. Right?

Somewhere There's An "Away" Without A Home

The contents of this article don't really matter. However, the name of said article is possibly the funniest thing I've seen all day and I can't believe nobody caught that before it was published.

Happy Birthday Chris!

Hope it's a good one!
Have a drink for all the people who are too broke to fly to Japan to see you today!

Geraldo Still A Douche Bag

I hate Geraldo and I really hate his fucking mustache. So this article I found over at Boing Boing doesn't come as any great surprise.

National embarrassment Geraldo Rivera called leftie newsman Kieth Olbermann a pussy and a slimeball and threatened to beat him up, saying "I would make a pizza out of him."

Apparently Geraldo was visiting with 104.1 FM's Monsters just before Christmas, when they asked him about the time he made international headline for disclosing too much information about troops in Iraq. Geraldo claimed the incident was blown out of proportion, largely by NBC -- and specifically Olbermann. Geraldo then began mumbling semi-audible names, seemingly meant to describe Olbermann: "midget ... punk ... slimeball."

But then, with the Monsters helpful prodding, Geraldo went a step further, leaving no doubt about what he was saying. He called Olbermann a coward -- specifically a "[female part of the anatomy] who wouldn't walk across the street against the red light."

He then said he was ready to fight him, saying: "I would make a pizza out of him."

Why I Hate "Office Work"

In every place of business there seems to be at least one person who's only real job is to make work for other people and to make their lives miserable (I can think of at least one where I work). The really horrible thing is that sometimes these people are put in charge. Those are the times when a career change would be a good idea, though thoughts usually start to wander to the joys of suicide if no other offers come along quickly.

Here's A Fun Game!

What is it?


a) Bowl full of mealworms ----> Seriously, that's your answer?
b) Fiber One cereal ----> Way to go, genius.



a) Bowl full of maggots ----> What the hell is wrong with you?
b) Puffed rice cereal ----> You're brilliant, have a gold star.

Now here's the million dollar question... Why the fuck do they have to make cereal that looks like insect larvae? Why God, Why?

Another Day, Another Thing To Add To My List Of Shit I Didn't Get Done

I'm not one for making New Year's resolutions, especially lists. I find it normally turns into a list of shame. Shit I said I wanted to do and didn't, changes I was going to make but was to lazy to, shit I said I was going to stop doing but, hell, who am I kidding, just love to damned much to stop.
I usually do have a mental list of shit I really should accomplish by next year. It's nothing to binding, just shit I probably should do, if I have time. Stuff like finishing the kitchen. That's a big one this year. (though with the new counters I got for Christmas that one should get done fairly soon.)
There is, however, one list that has been growing over this last year, permanently attatched to my fridge. Someone had once given me a "to do" list type pad of paper, and this is what it turned in to...

Gwenhwyfar's "to do" list

- Create evil empire
- Take over world
- Hire Naiomi as evil advisor
- Kill enemies
- Kill advisors
- Write memoirs
- Bake christmas cookies
- Feed orphans...
- To lions
- Renew subscription to Evil Overlord Weekly and People
- Adopt a new, more positive attitude... toward DESTRUCTION!

Hopefully I can scratch a few of those things off by next year.

Someone Should Show This To Hallmark

This has got to be one of the best shirts I've seen in a long time. It's probably best not to admit it if you don't understand.

A Couple Of These And A Bottle Of Jolt, I'll Be Ready For Anything

A few days ago I stumbled across www.thinkgeek.com and have been slowly making my way through their inventory, checking it out, making a mental note of the things I like. Today I found Black Black and I'm very intrigued. Caffeinated gum and candy! This is something I've gotta try!
What would I do without wacky Japanese products?
I grow painfully bored, whither and die. That's what.

I Hope You're Happy.... Jerks

So I've decided to finally do something about the suggestions I've gotten from various people and start a sister site to Shit I Hate. So from now on, those of you living vicariously through me can now stand in awe... or read in awe Shit I love.
Enjoy.

Of Course

I would have to find this after Christmas.
Oh well, now I have my shopping done for next year. Though I'm sure by then someone will have realized the marketing gem of bottling another kind of "air" for your loved ones.

At Least Joe Camel Was Subtle

So I'm at my Aunt's house finishing off one of my Christmas presents. She has a kiln and was kind enough to fire stuff for me and let me use her paints. I'm kinda thinking that she may be regretting that.
While I was painting Spider-man I happened to glance over at the shelf against the wall (she does ceramics so her basement is full of the stuff) and this is what I see:



The first thing that runs through my head is "holy shit! Those reindeer have testicles for heads!". That is also, unfortunately, the first thing to come out of my mouth.
My Aunt tells me I'm sick and that no one has ever said that before, so I show them to G. He agrees with me and points out that not only do they have sack heads, the sack heads appear to be wrinkled. He then names them the Sackalope and starts drawing them.
We laughed for like 20 minutes and my Aunt still thinks I'm a sicko, but I ask you - Are those not the most testicle like heads you've ever seen?

Goddamnit

It isn't even over yet and this is already the worst Christmas ever. I'm sure the Universe must think this is really funny, but seriously, I give. Can we call a truce or something. I don't want to play any more.

From Me To You 17

Man, it's been ages since I've done one of these.

- I know it seems like a good idea, but trust me, making the most paranoid, insane worry wart the OH&S rep is a bad idea. A really bad idea.

- When someone tells you they don't like Christmas, that's not the cue to play 50 questions to discover the reasons behind it.

- When someone tells you they don't like Christmas, don't then start trying to convert them/annoy them by constantly talking about how great christmas is and singing christmas songs. That is the best way to get your ass kicked by a grinch.

- If you're watching a nerdy type program, let's say Babylon 5, and then get excited because one of the guest stars is someone so obscure you have to explain who he is to everyone in the room, let's say Paul Williams, you are a nerd. A really big nerd.

- If you're watching Gargoyles and you can pick out 2 or more cast members who are also Star Trek: TNG cast members and Bill Fagerbakke, you are also a nerd. Especially if you know who Bill Fagerbakke is.

- If you can pick out Frank Welker based only on his animal noises, you have entirely too much time on your hands. This is even worse if you can pick out Maurice LaMarche based only on his belching.

- Pinched nerves suck. A lot. Try to avoid them.

- When a three year old points something out in that horribly blunt kind of way, it's cute. When anyone else does it, not so much.

Damn It!

I haven't been sleeping well the last few days. For whatever reason I kept waking up obscenely early. Today is my day off and for the first time in about a week and a half I was actually sleeping pretty well (by my standards anyway). So, of course, the Gods decided run their entire heard of etherial cattle over my house so they could all shit on me.
At 8.15am, which for some of you I know isn't early (but for those like me who couldn't get to sleep until around 2.30am it bloody well is), I was woken by the sound of someone pounding on my door. And I should clarify here that where I live, at this time of year, 8.15 is still fucking dark outside, so when someone wakes you up it's even more jarring.
I stumble blindly, half asleep to the door. It's nearly pitch black in the house and in my sleepy stupor I neglect to put on my glasses (not that in the dark they would have done a lot of good), but I get to the door without running into anything. It being early and me not expecting anyone, I peek through the curtain to see who the fuck it is.
There stands a man in black, hooded and all, face completely hidden in the shadow of his hood. At that point I was hoping it was Death and he had the other three horsemen down the street or something. I figure, well I can't keep Death waiting, though I was curious as to why he bothered knocking and didn't just come in. When I open the door however, I find not Death (nor War, Pestilence or Famine), but a jackass in a hoodie wearing a neon vest like a good little city worker. He's asking me to move my car. Now. Because they're starting work on the street.
This is not what I want to hear.
I can't believe that they didn't know that they were coming to do work today. And if they did know then is it so beyond the city to let people know? So maybe we wouldn't all park on the street? So we wouldn't all have some asshat waking us up so we can all tromp out in the snow?
The city has also been so kind as to neglect my street (along with countless others) when clearing the streets. The whole length of the street is covered in loose snow that you're more than likely to get stuck it and the alley is even worse. And it's snowing, again. All of this makes the relatively simple task of moving one's car into a nightmare. Especially since I'm half asleep and my car is, much like the steet, covered in snow.
It ended up taking me nearly fifteen minutes to move my car.
Now I'm cold, grumpy and wide awake.
I have a feeling that it's going to be one of those days.
Stupid everything.

I Say Why Not?

Every now and then I form irrational obsessions with things. It doesn't really matter what it is, in fact it's more often than not with random things I stumble across and for no better reason than that it made me laugh. The egg cuber is one of those things.
I happened to read a blog entry about them yesterday and now I need one. I don't know why, but I do. Though I'm not limiting myself to square eggs, oh no, I want any type of egg mold.
As I understand it, they're popular in Japan. People like to have interestingly shaped eggs in their bento boxes. So at least I'm not the only weirdo who thinks molded eggs are great.
But where the hell am I going to find one around here? I might just have to break down and order one off the internet.
Yes, I am very aware that there is something seriously wrong with me, but at least it's entertaining.

Peter Boyle (1935 - 2006)

Peter Boyle passed away last night at the age of 71.
As much as I don't like "Everybody loves Raymond", I've always been a fan of Peter Boyle. "Young Frankenstein" is one of only a handful of movies that I can watch time and time again and it always makes me laugh. Watching him and Gene Wilder singing Putin' on the Ritz makes me laugh until I cry.

Kanye West Isn't Just An Egomaniac

He's also unoriginal. And Evil Knievel is going to sue his ass for using his image in the "touch the sky" video. Funny how people get pissy when you use their shit without asking first and unfortunately for Kanye that means a lawsuit.
I wish I could say I feel sorry for him, but Kanye has been pissing me off for a while. This asshole just loves himself WAY too much. It's a shame we all could sue him for being subjected to his ego when he stormed the stage at the music videos awards.

Shhhhhhh!

They're putting new floor in at work (in case you're not aware, I work in a library). I'm just wondering if they're going to add anything else to make it even louder in here. The lino they picked to replace the carpet is textured, so the trolleys we use to move shit around on now make more noise than I thought possible.
I think we should add some jingle bells and a couple of sirens for good measure. The we could swap the trollys for old school kiddy waggons with the ear splittingly loud plastic wheels. Some people are still able to think over the noise.
Let me tell you folks, the libraries of the movies where everything is quiet and orderly with librarians shushing everyone are just a myth. If you're going to a real library you might want to invest in some ear plugs.

The Truthiness, The Whole Truthiness And Nothing But The Truthiness

I was excited to see that Stephen Colbert (who aside from being pretty damned hot is one hell of a fake news reporter) was honored this week with the naming of his word "Truthiness" as word of the year. A finer word they could not have picked.