'I'm a little black rain cloud'
So far, 2008 has been a sucktacular year.
I have had three, count them, three, separate incidents with my car in the last couple of weeks. First the 'statue of a car' - frozen edition, then the 'broken statue of a car' - 'next time don't drive into the curb' edition (that one cost me almost $2,200) and then, and maybe best of all, the 'getting hosed by some sleazoid for your insurance money' interactive art, where said sleaze stops in your blind spot and waits for you to hit him, claims he wouldn't care except for its a brand new, not-even-three-weeks-old, 1999 Pontiac Grand Prix, then tells the insurance company that you hit his parked car ('so wait', I asked the nice insurance lady, 'is it still my fault if he was parked, like an idjit, in the middle of the lane? You know, as apposed to in an actual parking spot?"). Next time I am so just asking some random person to witness what ever, because right now its my word against his that he was 'parked' and where he was 'parked'. Whatever, hope you enjoy the new bumper and paint job on me, dicksmack.
I have been sick pretty much since Christmas, first a lovely, and lingering, cold like flu, that I am still getting over, and then last weekend (my long weekend, *sob*) a lovely and always enjoyable stomach flu. But hey! I'm back on solids, sort of, so its all good, right? No harm, no foul? Whatever, that freaking stomach flu was foul.
I was told I was one of the main reasons some twit quit their job over at the salt mine, because basically I was unapproachable and unhelpful and mean (Don't forget the mean 'cause we're twelve). Which means I wasn't willing to do their job for them, frustrated with them constantly trying to come up with new and inventive ways to try and make me do their job for them and constantly having to hold their hands after three months when they still hadn't learned anything.. Seriously just fucking figure something out yourself, if I wasn't here who else's life would you make miserable, lazy fucking ....
Otherwise, health-wise, its been pretty sucky since the summer and the 'oh no, this soy won't cause you any issues. It's good soy... Pure soy...' incident. I just so fucking tired and rundown. I'm sure I'm borderline depressed and I'm way past borderline frustrated and nothing seems to be working, not sleep, medication, diet, nothing at all and I'm getting pissed. I find it so difficult to explain how awful I feel to people, doctors, naturopaths just how tired and disheartened I really am, it makes me feel like a Hypochondriac and I just wish there was some understanding.
So that means its time for a random pic spam.
So I'm kind of ridiculously fond of this one. Well, it IS my boy George (hee Boy George), even if it's not his best picture ever, I kinda love the belt like the sun.
The second time my sister and I went to Vegas it was just after I had finished and passed almost everything required to get my 'professional designation'. We failed our 'presentation to the board', but in our defense one of our intrepid team members was in labour during our presentation and we were a little distracted from our completely shitty, totally unworthy-of-a-passing-grade, presentation, so you know... And I desperately needed the shopping and roller coasters. Searching the desert for ghost towns was good therapy too.
We stayed at the Boardwalk Hotel and Casino (now long gone). And when we arrived, punch drunk from the four hour flight, wrangling luggage and rental cars, the euphoria of hitting Las Vegas Blvd and driving past the 'Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas' sign and and the rigmarole of signing away our souls for the delight of staying in the crappy 'back-alley motel-like cheap-seats' of the strip, we parked our rented Dodge Neon (Jesus! I may never recover from that one) on the second tier of the weird and completely illogical Boardwalk parking structure. And in a fit of ridiculous giddiness we took pictures hanging off of the structure in the corner, pointing to our room and the various sights seen from that particular vantage point, the pictures, sadly, lost to a catastrophic computer crash (backup people, preach it!). These pictures were (god rest their pixels) taken in almost the exact same place as this picture of lovely Georgie and well, since he's prettier than either myself or my sister anyway, it's like a really awesome souvenir picture.
But it also makes me sad. It's been a while since I went to Vegas (Baby) and due to driving my cursed car into a curb when I should have been sleeping (thanks to the homies for informing me I'm NOT invincible after the fact, assholes), I probably won't make it back this year either, dammit. I miss you Speed the Ride *blows kiss*.
Er. less yaking more pic-ing.
Another of George, I just kinda like it. It might be a little dirty suggestive.
This is currently my favorite picture of Orlando, he looks all kinds of hot. But you just know that under those pants he's wearing bright yellow boxers with little purple flowers all over them and under the undoubtedly hot boots he's wearing with this get up, stripy toe socks. Tru fax.
I was ridiculously happy earlier in the week to hear that he apparently had signed up to once again grace his face on some celluloid (does anyone even use film anymore?) I miss his face, and am looking forward to whatever.
Another current favorite, I just love his 'Whatever. Bitch.' face.
for whatever (sick and possibly dirty!bad!wrong!) reason his boots make me tingly.
These stupid screen caps from Mystery Spot make me smile every time I see them. Poor confusled Sam, his widdle face as he tried to swish the taste of the bubble gum tooth paste out of his mouth and figure out what the hell is going on with his apparently 'vivid' dream. Not to mention the way Dean's gargling seems to defy the laws of physics.
Another 'Yay Jared Padalecki is a dork' picture. It's an oldie but a goody.
Yup, that's him behind Ackles, in his Diva! shades with his hair in pigtails. Kills me ded every fucking time.
And finally.
Holy! Just look at that cranky little face and wrinkly little body. It just makes me want to play and tease until he gets all irritated and takes off, showing me his wrinkly little bottom, until he ends up scowling at me from under a coffee table or couch or something. I just want to smish him and give him treats!!
That was surprisingly therapeutic.
I have had three, count them, three, separate incidents with my car in the last couple of weeks. First the 'statue of a car' - frozen edition, then the 'broken statue of a car' - 'next time don't drive into the curb' edition (that one cost me almost $2,200) and then, and maybe best of all, the 'getting hosed by some sleazoid for your insurance money' interactive art, where said sleaze stops in your blind spot and waits for you to hit him, claims he wouldn't care except for its a brand new, not-even-three-weeks-old, 1999 Pontiac Grand Prix, then tells the insurance company that you hit his parked car ('so wait', I asked the nice insurance lady, 'is it still my fault if he was parked, like an idjit, in the middle of the lane? You know, as apposed to in an actual parking spot?"). Next time I am so just asking some random person to witness what ever, because right now its my word against his that he was 'parked' and where he was 'parked'. Whatever, hope you enjoy the new bumper and paint job on me, dicksmack.
I have been sick pretty much since Christmas, first a lovely, and lingering, cold like flu, that I am still getting over, and then last weekend (my long weekend, *sob*) a lovely and always enjoyable stomach flu. But hey! I'm back on solids, sort of, so its all good, right? No harm, no foul? Whatever, that freaking stomach flu was foul.
I was told I was one of the main reasons some twit quit their job over at the salt mine, because basically I was unapproachable and unhelpful and mean (Don't forget the mean 'cause we're twelve). Which means I wasn't willing to do their job for them, frustrated with them constantly trying to come up with new and inventive ways to try and make me do their job for them and constantly having to hold their hands after three months when they still hadn't learned anything.. Seriously just fucking figure something out yourself, if I wasn't here who else's life would you make miserable, lazy fucking ....
Otherwise, health-wise, its been pretty sucky since the summer and the 'oh no, this soy won't cause you any issues. It's good soy... Pure soy...' incident. I just so fucking tired and rundown. I'm sure I'm borderline depressed and I'm way past borderline frustrated and nothing seems to be working, not sleep, medication, diet, nothing at all and I'm getting pissed. I find it so difficult to explain how awful I feel to people, doctors, naturopaths just how tired and disheartened I really am, it makes me feel like a Hypochondriac and I just wish there was some understanding.
So that means its time for a random pic spam.
So I'm kind of ridiculously fond of this one. Well, it IS my boy George (hee Boy George), even if it's not his best picture ever, I kinda love the belt like the sun.
The second time my sister and I went to Vegas it was just after I had finished and passed almost everything required to get my 'professional designation'. We failed our 'presentation to the board', but in our defense one of our intrepid team members was in labour during our presentation and we were a little distracted from our completely shitty, totally unworthy-of-a-passing-grade, presentation, so you know... And I desperately needed the shopping and roller coasters. Searching the desert for ghost towns was good therapy too.
We stayed at the Boardwalk Hotel and Casino (now long gone). And when we arrived, punch drunk from the four hour flight, wrangling luggage and rental cars, the euphoria of hitting Las Vegas Blvd and driving past the 'Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas' sign and and the rigmarole of signing away our souls for the delight of staying in the crappy 'back-alley motel-like cheap-seats' of the strip, we parked our rented Dodge Neon (Jesus! I may never recover from that one) on the second tier of the weird and completely illogical Boardwalk parking structure. And in a fit of ridiculous giddiness we took pictures hanging off of the structure in the corner, pointing to our room and the various sights seen from that particular vantage point, the pictures, sadly, lost to a catastrophic computer crash (backup people, preach it!). These pictures were (god rest their pixels) taken in almost the exact same place as this picture of lovely Georgie and well, since he's prettier than either myself or my sister anyway, it's like a really awesome souvenir picture.
But it also makes me sad. It's been a while since I went to Vegas (Baby) and due to driving my cursed car into a curb when I should have been sleeping (thanks to the homies for informing me I'm NOT invincible after the fact, assholes), I probably won't make it back this year either, dammit. I miss you Speed the Ride *blows kiss*.
Er. less yaking more pic-ing.
Another of George, I just kinda like it. It might be a little dirty suggestive.
This is currently my favorite picture of Orlando, he looks all kinds of hot. But you just know that under those pants he's wearing bright yellow boxers with little purple flowers all over them and under the undoubtedly hot boots he's wearing with this get up, stripy toe socks. Tru fax.
I was ridiculously happy earlier in the week to hear that he apparently had signed up to once again grace his face on some celluloid (does anyone even use film anymore?) I miss his face, and am looking forward to whatever.
Another current favorite, I just love his 'Whatever. Bitch.' face.
for whatever (sick and possibly dirty!bad!wrong!) reason his boots make me tingly.
These stupid screen caps from Mystery Spot make me smile every time I see them. Poor confusled Sam, his widdle face as he tried to swish the taste of the bubble gum tooth paste out of his mouth and figure out what the hell is going on with his apparently 'vivid' dream. Not to mention the way Dean's gargling seems to defy the laws of physics.
Another 'Yay Jared Padalecki is a dork' picture. It's an oldie but a goody.
Yup, that's him behind Ackles, in his Diva! shades with his hair in pigtails. Kills me ded every fucking time.
And finally.
Holy! Just look at that cranky little face and wrinkly little body. It just makes me want to play and tease until he gets all irritated and takes off, showing me his wrinkly little bottom, until he ends up scowling at me from under a coffee table or couch or something. I just want to smish him and give him treats!!
That was surprisingly therapeutic.