wipeout
Wow. I've been gone so long that the spotlight LJ groups on the index of the website have changed.
Speaking of LJ - I'm extremely irritated with them right now. Why? Because I've been a "loyal holder of a paid account" for several months, my paid account has thirty-seven icons.
Thirty-seven. 37.
THIRTY-SEVEN IS A PRIME NUMBER, YOU ASSHOLES. Why couldn't they have given me a nice round number of loyalty icons, like - like maybe an extra ten to make it forty if they wanted to be very generous; however, five to make it thirty-five would be fine, too. But thirty-seven? In order to illustrate for you the anguish this is causing me, let's make a comparison. Say, for instance, you are given set currency groups for a country - the US, for example, has the dollar (equal to 100 cents), the fifty-cent piece (equal to - OH NOES - fifty cents), the quarter (equal to twenty-five cents), the dime (equal to ten cents), the nickel (equal to five cents), and the penny (equal to one cent). Notice a pattern? All of them are divisible by five, except for the latter - and only because a system needs a singular unit to base itself upon.
If the US government came out with a thirty-seven cent coin to give its patriots, America would lose its shit.
Oh, yeah, I have a new job.
I'm doing maintenance on the new Presidential Helicopter Support Facility on the NAVAIR base - basically, it's busting my ass for ten bucks an hour. Every night, I come home with blisters, bruises, burns, cramps, and an insane urge to scrub my skin off (manual labour, you know - it can get quite dirty) but I think I'm handling it all right. The best part about this job? The money. The worst part? The dirt, the pain, the lazy SMIB bitch who keeps complaining and groaning about how much her feet hurt and how gross and sweaty she feels because she pushed a broom two fucking feet and how I keep telling her she's not doing her job right, the dirt, getting tossed around by the temp agency, the pain, and the dirt. (But ten bucks an hour is pretty sweet for a temp job, you have to admit.)
I'm going to die.
At least I made a good impression on the BossMan. (Was there any doubt?)
Anyway, thirty-seven icons. THIS IS WHY KIDS ON LJ CUT THEMSELVES.
Speaking of LJ - I'm extremely irritated with them right now. Why? Because I've been a "loyal holder of a paid account" for several months, my paid account has thirty-seven icons.
Thirty-seven. 37.
THIRTY-SEVEN IS A PRIME NUMBER, YOU ASSHOLES. Why couldn't they have given me a nice round number of loyalty icons, like - like maybe an extra ten to make it forty if they wanted to be very generous; however, five to make it thirty-five would be fine, too. But thirty-seven? In order to illustrate for you the anguish this is causing me, let's make a comparison. Say, for instance, you are given set currency groups for a country - the US, for example, has the dollar (equal to 100 cents), the fifty-cent piece (equal to - OH NOES - fifty cents), the quarter (equal to twenty-five cents), the dime (equal to ten cents), the nickel (equal to five cents), and the penny (equal to one cent). Notice a pattern? All of them are divisible by five, except for the latter - and only because a system needs a singular unit to base itself upon.
If the US government came out with a thirty-seven cent coin to give its patriots, America would lose its shit.
Oh, yeah, I have a new job.
I'm doing maintenance on the new Presidential Helicopter Support Facility on the NAVAIR base - basically, it's busting my ass for ten bucks an hour. Every night, I come home with blisters, bruises, burns, cramps, and an insane urge to scrub my skin off (manual labour, you know - it can get quite dirty) but I think I'm handling it all right. The best part about this job? The money. The worst part? The dirt, the pain, the lazy SMIB bitch who keeps complaining and groaning about how much her feet hurt and how gross and sweaty she feels because she pushed a broom two fucking feet and how I keep telling her she's not doing her job right, the dirt, getting tossed around by the temp agency, the pain, and the dirt. (But ten bucks an hour is pretty sweet for a temp job, you have to admit.)
I'm going to die.
At least I made a good impression on the BossMan. (Was there any doubt?)
Anyway, thirty-seven icons. THIS IS WHY KIDS ON LJ CUT THEMSELVES.