Back when Mark Wahlberg was Marky Mark, this is how we used to make the party start.....
Eh. I'm having strong considerations of signing off MySpace. Barring that, I think I'll just not use it very much.
These thoughts were pretty much a direct result of yesterday. Since LJ was down yesterday, I wasn't able to post anything here. But here's the *69:
On my way home from Arabic yesterday, I was driving down 9th street, which is usually pretty open that time of day. I first noticed something was wrong before I was even technically on 9th, when the bridge traffic was backed up, and half of these fuckers were trying to get into my lane, and I originally wanted to get in their lane. Well, when there's that many cars, things just don't work out very well. So, turns out things are fucked. Drive down a ways, slowly I might add, and across the street from the courthouse I saw the other major problem: A fucking cop car was blocking traffic. Not a cop car behind another car that can't move...nope, just a fucking cop car. So, there's this car parked in one of those side parking things, and a cop car with it's lights flashing behind it, and I guess the guy was sitting in the back of the cop car. Obviously he's not going anywhere. The cops were searching the car. So, can someone explain to me why it was necessary to have another cop car, blocking that car in, while simultaneously blocking an entire lane of traffic (one of the 2 through lanes on 9th, by the way)? Fucking hell.
Yesterday was a fairly shitty day at work. Seriously. A good third of the people I helped had delinquent accounts and were not supposed to rent anything, so I had to get a higher up to go through the computer system and change it. Because I do not have such power. Even though I know one of my supervisor's passwords, I still don't want to go through and mess with shit like that.
That, in and of itself, not so bad. The bad comes around 7pm when the biggest fucking asshole I've ever had to talk to calls to complain. What does this fucknut complain about? He got a widescreen disc instead of a fullscreen. Yes, that's right, these dumbasses that insist on fullscreen still exist. Why can't they just fucking die out already? Anyways, so he is basically yelling at me from the start about this. Then he starts telling me that it's my fault his entire night is ruined, blah blah blah. Here's the kicker: he then demanded that someone deliver a fullscreen copy to his house.
What the flying fuck?!
Is that not some unreasonable shit?
I offered to let him exchange it for a fullscreen, but no, he fucking wanted somebody to drive it out to his house. When I refused, he demanded to speak to my manager.
I, of course, handed the phone off to my 18 year old supervisor to let him deal with the jackass. Anyways, there's now a note in this guy's account in the system telling the next person to help him to reach over the counter and slap the shit out of this jackass.
Ok, all this is buildup to the real fun, just need to get everybody in the mood.
Get home from work, and there's a new friend request, it's cool, somebody that I haven't really spoken to since I was in 9th grade when she graduated high school. I counselled her younger sister at Kaleo this past summer, whatever. That's great. So, a few minutes later, I get a message from somebody else...
Gah. Long story short, Jessica Vermeer found me on MySpace. Talked for a little while online, and then I somehow got persuaded out to VI. Fine, guilt trip me, whatever. I almost felt bad for how things ended between us, but I do tend to lose a lot of respect for the guilt-trip-users. Anyways, yeah, she seems more...jovial than back in the day. Engaged again, I guess. I don't know...I'm just very hesitant about this whole situation. I can count on both hands the number of people from high school that I would like to keep in touch with, and she doesn't even approach that list. So, Foy, if you're reading this and she finds you...a pre-emptive apology.
These thoughts were pretty much a direct result of yesterday. Since LJ was down yesterday, I wasn't able to post anything here. But here's the *69:
On my way home from Arabic yesterday, I was driving down 9th street, which is usually pretty open that time of day. I first noticed something was wrong before I was even technically on 9th, when the bridge traffic was backed up, and half of these fuckers were trying to get into my lane, and I originally wanted to get in their lane. Well, when there's that many cars, things just don't work out very well. So, turns out things are fucked. Drive down a ways, slowly I might add, and across the street from the courthouse I saw the other major problem: A fucking cop car was blocking traffic. Not a cop car behind another car that can't move...nope, just a fucking cop car. So, there's this car parked in one of those side parking things, and a cop car with it's lights flashing behind it, and I guess the guy was sitting in the back of the cop car. Obviously he's not going anywhere. The cops were searching the car. So, can someone explain to me why it was necessary to have another cop car, blocking that car in, while simultaneously blocking an entire lane of traffic (one of the 2 through lanes on 9th, by the way)? Fucking hell.
Yesterday was a fairly shitty day at work. Seriously. A good third of the people I helped had delinquent accounts and were not supposed to rent anything, so I had to get a higher up to go through the computer system and change it. Because I do not have such power. Even though I know one of my supervisor's passwords, I still don't want to go through and mess with shit like that.
That, in and of itself, not so bad. The bad comes around 7pm when the biggest fucking asshole I've ever had to talk to calls to complain. What does this fucknut complain about? He got a widescreen disc instead of a fullscreen. Yes, that's right, these dumbasses that insist on fullscreen still exist. Why can't they just fucking die out already? Anyways, so he is basically yelling at me from the start about this. Then he starts telling me that it's my fault his entire night is ruined, blah blah blah. Here's the kicker: he then demanded that someone deliver a fullscreen copy to his house.
What the flying fuck?!
Is that not some unreasonable shit?
I offered to let him exchange it for a fullscreen, but no, he fucking wanted somebody to drive it out to his house. When I refused, he demanded to speak to my manager.
I, of course, handed the phone off to my 18 year old supervisor to let him deal with the jackass. Anyways, there's now a note in this guy's account in the system telling the next person to help him to reach over the counter and slap the shit out of this jackass.
Ok, all this is buildup to the real fun, just need to get everybody in the mood.
Get home from work, and there's a new friend request, it's cool, somebody that I haven't really spoken to since I was in 9th grade when she graduated high school. I counselled her younger sister at Kaleo this past summer, whatever. That's great. So, a few minutes later, I get a message from somebody else...
Gah. Long story short, Jessica Vermeer found me on MySpace. Talked for a little while online, and then I somehow got persuaded out to VI. Fine, guilt trip me, whatever. I almost felt bad for how things ended between us, but I do tend to lose a lot of respect for the guilt-trip-users. Anyways, yeah, she seems more...jovial than back in the day. Engaged again, I guess. I don't know...I'm just very hesitant about this whole situation. I can count on both hands the number of people from high school that I would like to keep in touch with, and she doesn't even approach that list. So, Foy, if you're reading this and she finds you...a pre-emptive apology.