Cats Can't Dance, But They Can Steal Your Money
Mom was right. People around here like their booze way too sweet. Ugh.
I have many elderly LJ entries that I really need to get to posting, and I shall endeavor to do so in a reasoned and controlled fashion so that nobody's friends page is spammed. More than usual, I mean, because I can be one with the spam if I'm bored enough. Anyway, "highlights" (put loosely) of the weekend, more because I am amused by them than for any other reason. I've thoughtfully placed them under a lj-cut.
We watched some remake of a Tarzan movie (Tarzan and the Lost City, I think it was), which dated from, at most, the early-to-mid '90s and featured a sad dearth of Johnny Weissmuller. I'm one of those geeks who gets off on the Othering Of The Native In Nineteenth-Century British Fiction and whatnot, so of course I kept reading way too much into the plot. Also, there's this scene in which Tarzan and Jane, having made their escape from the 3v0l British, dart back into the jungle and hear this noise, which in a rather Batsignal-y way Tarzan identifies as "an elephant in trouble!".
Dude, if I had amazing speaking-with-animals p0w4hz, they'd all go something like this:
Lolmom: What's that noise?
l33: It sounds like a common housecat! I think it's in trouble!
Callice: THERE HAS BEEN A TERRIBLE MISTAKE_CALLICE WAS SHUT IN THE BASEMENT OVERNIGHT_COME QUICKLY_CALLICE DOES NOT KNOW HOW MUCH LONGER SHE CAN HOLD OUT WITHOUT KIBBLE
Judging by the response the neighborhood cats have to my presence, my reality TV show would be The Cat Whisperer Yeller.
Also, X-chan called and wanted to know how accurate the history in Gladiator was (the answer: not very, though it's still a good movie). And then this segued into other currents of talk, and I mentioned that I might chop five years off my age because my misspent youth, I want it back, and then X was like, "I thought I'd add 7. Because I want to buy this condo, and I don't think the realtors will take me seriously since I'm only 25, and if I'm 32 they'd probably want to sell me a house."
I said, "And you're an engineer, which automatically means you have money."
X-chan: I had about three tellers at Wells Fargo in awe of my engineerness.
l33: …o rly.
X-chan: Yeah, I had to cash a check though since I didn't have an account they made me put my address on it. One of them was all, "omg where is that?" and I told him, and he was like, "I've never heard of it." So I told him it was a company town and he asked if I was from there, and I said no, I moved there when I got the mining job. And when I said I worked in the mine as an engineer, they were all, "omg isn't that dangerous?" And I was all, "well, there's a risk, sure, but what I do isn't that exciting…"
l33: Yeah, because of the Sago disaster and the Cradle Canyon disaster, and people don't know and they think that's typical.
X-chan: BITCHES DON'T KNOW ABOUT MY MINES.
Also, I got a job. It's just part-time at the House of Wal, so I figure it'll be some income and an opportunity to engage in some rabble-rousing in the best Red tradition hone my customer-service skills. Plus, they have now required the dowdiest outfit EVAR for all employees: khakis and a navy blue polo shirt. The khakis don't bug me 'cause I like them, but I have to pull a navy blue polo shirt out of my ass (I own very little in navy blue and no polo shirts whatsoever) at some point in the duration, because I can't keep wearing the lolmom's forever, especially since it has her company logo on it. A navy blue polo shirt that I will in all probability never wear again after I quit this job.
My ultimate plan is to get a full-time job in addition to the Wal-Minionage, because I need insurance, my bills aren't paying themselves, and my move to Bloomington isn't financing itself either, so once this happens, batten the hatches and prepare for a lot of me being tired and bitchy and cursing myself all the time. Oh hot damn I am going to be so fucked when Christmas rolls around D:
At least it's a job and I'm not out of work for six months like I was last time, as those of you who were around in 2005 may recall.
Also, we are experiencing some technical difficulties! If anybody notices that I am negligent about twittering or not returning their calls, shortly after I was pissing and moaning to pleasureblossom and pixelation last week, my cell phone took a long walk off a short plank. It's not completely shot in the sense that it no longer works at all, but it's not going to do me much good if the display screen persistently refuses to show up. Seriously.
(OMG I'M SORRY PIXEL I'LL NEVER JOKE ABOUT STEALING YOUR IPHONE AGAIN PLZ REVOKE YOUR EVIL CURSE DDDDD:)
(EDIT: Since this entry was originally written, about 4 or 5 days ago, aeromancy claimed responsibility for the cell phone borkness. I haven't ruled out The Curse Of Pixel, though.)
We've had Del's old phone, which is perfectly good to use (and a newer model than mine, at that) and compatible with my carrier, for some time, so I'll go out to the dealer and see what my options are. Ideally, I could keep the same number and stick it on the new phone and if I'm stuck with them for two years (or have to pay as I go, which is now a viable option on account of my not being an abstractor anymore) so be it. I haven't been unhappy with Verizon.
In conclusion, DO NOT call me on the cell until further notice. Use the house number, assuming you have it. (E-mail if you ZOMGRLYNEED the house number.) Unlike the cell phone, though, be aware that I will yell at you if you call after 9 p.m. CST and you are NOT being dismembered by a combine or otherwise in a state of emergency.
H wrote, which I may or may not talk about, and I'm tired, so I'm going to bed. forgottensanity, I'll try to get to you sometime this week, but as ever I make no promises.
I have many elderly LJ entries that I really need to get to posting, and I shall endeavor to do so in a reasoned and controlled fashion so that nobody's friends page is spammed. More than usual, I mean, because I can be one with the spam if I'm bored enough. Anyway, "highlights" (put loosely) of the weekend, more because I am amused by them than for any other reason. I've thoughtfully placed them under a lj-cut.
We watched some remake of a Tarzan movie (Tarzan and the Lost City, I think it was), which dated from, at most, the early-to-mid '90s and featured a sad dearth of Johnny Weissmuller. I'm one of those geeks who gets off on the Othering Of The Native In Nineteenth-Century British Fiction and whatnot, so of course I kept reading way too much into the plot. Also, there's this scene in which Tarzan and Jane, having made their escape from the 3v0l British, dart back into the jungle and hear this noise, which in a rather Batsignal-y way Tarzan identifies as "an elephant in trouble!".
Dude, if I had amazing speaking-with-animals p0w4hz, they'd all go something like this:
Lolmom: What's that noise?
l33: It sounds like a common housecat! I think it's in trouble!
Callice: THERE HAS BEEN A TERRIBLE MISTAKE_CALLICE WAS SHUT IN THE BASEMENT OVERNIGHT_COME QUICKLY_CALLICE DOES NOT KNOW HOW MUCH LONGER SHE CAN HOLD OUT WITHOUT KIBBLE
Judging by the response the neighborhood cats have to my presence, my reality TV show would be The Cat Whisperer Yeller.
Also, X-chan called and wanted to know how accurate the history in Gladiator was (the answer: not very, though it's still a good movie). And then this segued into other currents of talk, and I mentioned that I might chop five years off my age because my misspent youth, I want it back, and then X was like, "I thought I'd add 7. Because I want to buy this condo, and I don't think the realtors will take me seriously since I'm only 25, and if I'm 32 they'd probably want to sell me a house."
I said, "And you're an engineer, which automatically means you have money."
X-chan: I had about three tellers at Wells Fargo in awe of my engineerness.
l33: …o rly.
X-chan: Yeah, I had to cash a check though since I didn't have an account they made me put my address on it. One of them was all, "omg where is that?" and I told him, and he was like, "I've never heard of it." So I told him it was a company town and he asked if I was from there, and I said no, I moved there when I got the mining job. And when I said I worked in the mine as an engineer, they were all, "omg isn't that dangerous?" And I was all, "well, there's a risk, sure, but what I do isn't that exciting…"
l33: Yeah, because of the Sago disaster and the Cradle Canyon disaster, and people don't know and they think that's typical.
X-chan: BITCHES DON'T KNOW ABOUT MY MINES.
Also, I got a job. It's just part-time at the House of Wal, so I figure it'll be some income and an opportunity to engage in some rabble-rousing in the best Red tradition hone my customer-service skills. Plus, they have now required the dowdiest outfit EVAR for all employees: khakis and a navy blue polo shirt. The khakis don't bug me 'cause I like them, but I have to pull a navy blue polo shirt out of my ass (I own very little in navy blue and no polo shirts whatsoever) at some point in the duration, because I can't keep wearing the lolmom's forever, especially since it has her company logo on it. A navy blue polo shirt that I will in all probability never wear again after I quit this job.
My ultimate plan is to get a full-time job in addition to the Wal-Minionage, because I need insurance, my bills aren't paying themselves, and my move to Bloomington isn't financing itself either, so once this happens, batten the hatches and prepare for a lot of me being tired and bitchy and cursing myself all the time. Oh hot damn I am going to be so fucked when Christmas rolls around D:
At least it's a job and I'm not out of work for six months like I was last time, as those of you who were around in 2005 may recall.
Also, we are experiencing some technical difficulties! If anybody notices that I am negligent about twittering or not returning their calls, shortly after I was pissing and moaning to pleasureblossom and pixelation last week, my cell phone took a long walk off a short plank. It's not completely shot in the sense that it no longer works at all, but it's not going to do me much good if the display screen persistently refuses to show up. Seriously.
(OMG I'M SORRY PIXEL I'LL NEVER JOKE ABOUT STEALING YOUR IPHONE AGAIN PLZ REVOKE YOUR EVIL CURSE DDDDD:)
(EDIT: Since this entry was originally written, about 4 or 5 days ago, aeromancy claimed responsibility for the cell phone borkness. I haven't ruled out The Curse Of Pixel, though.)
We've had Del's old phone, which is perfectly good to use (and a newer model than mine, at that) and compatible with my carrier, for some time, so I'll go out to the dealer and see what my options are. Ideally, I could keep the same number and stick it on the new phone and if I'm stuck with them for two years (or have to pay as I go, which is now a viable option on account of my not being an abstractor anymore) so be it. I haven't been unhappy with Verizon.
In conclusion, DO NOT call me on the cell until further notice. Use the house number, assuming you have it. (E-mail if you ZOMGRLYNEED the house number.) Unlike the cell phone, though, be aware that I will yell at you if you call after 9 p.m. CST and you are NOT being dismembered by a combine or otherwise in a state of emergency.
H wrote, which I may or may not talk about, and I'm tired, so I'm going to bed. forgottensanity, I'll try to get to you sometime this week, but as ever I make no promises.