mmm . . . chocolate!
I usually frost my brownies with chocolate . . .
End of the Week
I’m off to Idaho in a few hours, so no new posts for a week. That ought to give the trackback-spamming bastards time to ping the hell out of me. Gotta research a way to suck up their bandwidth. Anyway, good luck to everyone else.
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He’s Gone Too Far
I think we are officially at war. Yesterday, I didn’t let the cat loll across my lap and keyboard as I tried to work. This morning I discovered my wallet floating in the dog’s water bowl. Pretty keen trick for a beast with no opposable thumbs, but I’ve got the higher brain function. I think. If I can gather a coalition of the willing (i.e. the wife and kids), I’ll start with sanctions. Like no food or water for a bit. How do you like that, you furry little bugger? If that doesn’t work to humble the twerp, I’ll see about getting him neutered again. I will not be beaten by a damned cat! Speaking of pesky and cute, where’s my email from PeeWee? 🙁
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Is it still Thursday
Now this is just sad. A very amusing, otherwise seemingly intelligent woman calling herself PeeWee started emailing me earlier this week due to a comment I left on GiggleChick, and now I’m hooked. It’s not the fact that she’s a damned sexy woman with what appears to be quite a cute belly button and goofy smile. It’s not the cheese sandwiches. It’s not even the hot red jacket. I think it is just that it’s almost like human contact. Now it is after 5 here on the west coast, and she hasn’t emailed me all day . . . I feel so alone! Maybe I shouldn’t have been so mean to the cat earlier today. I really need to rent a life. Thank god/God/mad chihuahuas vacation starts in two days! Maybe I’ll have to leave my hovel/study and spend time with the wife and kids today, ease myself back into society a bit. Or at least take a shower.
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Slow Day Roundup
Highlight of the day: Writing an email to a stranger. Lowlight of the day: 90 minute conference call on my cell phone to the U.K., wondering when it would end so that I could go back to eating my breakfast. So, not much going on. Figuring out hardware requirements for a project, using outdated documentation, writing to strangers as previously mentioned (older, interesting cheese-sandwich loving strangers, I might add) and trying to work the excavation of my desk into my work schedule. Hey, if I weren’t writing here, I could be digging for the surface! What else? I disabled my guestbook for now, tired of the bastards at tutbalo leaving spam. And that’s about it. We actually have sunshine today! Yay!
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It’s Wednesday
I have a raging headache today, so no exciting entry discussing the contents of my belly button. I’d like to go back to bed, but it’s already 4 p.m., so what’s the point? Okay, time to do something.
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Umm, yeah. About that . . .
Well now. It looks like I’ve been a way for a bit. I ended up in Miami for the weekend, then stranded in San Francisco for a bit, left, and ended up yet again in SF. So, I’ve been on the road. And busy. And lazy. Nobody but Christine and the spamtards noticed my absence, though. Thank you, Christine, and may you all die horribly, spamtards. What’s new, you ask? Well, I’ll be in northern Idaho for a week, starting Saturday, and then, who knows? My house is sold, I’ve got cash just waiting to be thrown about, and there’s no way in hell I’m moving to New Jersey. That’s life. Oh, and the boy-child is now five. Merry Christmas, all! Or whatever holiday is near . . .
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The President Lied? No Way! Way.
It’s Wednesday, I’m tired and I have nothing to say. So, I’ll say it anyway: What will it take to get the war declared illegal? At what point does lying, invading a foreign country, torturing and murdering its people and getting Americans killed for no valid reason become an impeachable offense? Or do we only impeach if someone’s dress gets stained? Ah, screw it. If we can’t torture and kill a few muslims for the fun of it, the terrorists have won, right?
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Judicial Ass-hat
If I ever decide to become an abusive husband, it looks like the state of Washington is the place to live. So the fact that he is currently in jail for domestic assault and faces federal drug charges aren’t a sign that this man shouldn’t be married? Yeah, this makes sense.
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More more
I don’t know if it was the magazine or the statement, but my wife did not like me handing her the adverts for more. I handed her the envelope and said “Dear, I think this is for you . . . it’s a magazine for old broads.”
In return, she hit me and reminded me that she is younger than I am. She must be having a bad day. Cranky, cranky, cranky.
