It's Official Grab Bindiya's Butt Day!
Sleep! You cannot imagine what a glorious thing it is til you go two days with 45 mins total of it.
Right, so. My genius self goes over to Catacombs after a GRUELING night at the Beast. The people just wouldn't quit walking through the door! Bastards.
I note that the Pub has a new decoration...while at Ren Faire the previous week, Lauren, our Jack the Ripper, has bought a silk rose and placed it in my tankard on the table. He is somewhat annoyed I don't take it home and treat it as a personal gift, which troubles me some, but he KNOWS I'm taken, so never mind it much. It's pretty. I like it in the Pub. So in the Pub it shall remain.
*pause*
Along with HypnoToad. Cause HypnoToad rules.
Anywho, went over and partied with Catacombs. One of the guys had a BEAUTIFUL hypo-albino burmese python that I was allowed to cart around. At least until sweet little Nemesis decided to give me a -hug-. That not good. Snakey go BACK now, thanks.
So, tried to sleep, couldn't, and ended up back at the Beast at SEVEN IN THE FUCKING MORNING. Everyone is dragging their asses, but I think I'm the only one that, upon getting airbrushed, curled up by the manager's desk in the break room and went to sleep. Or doze, as I was constantly being awakened by various goings on.
Needless to say, my ass is RIDING the float. I am not walking, thank you so very much. I'll just smile and wave my knife at the little kiddies and get hay on my butt, thanks.
So, as is custom, Monty buys us all 'breakfast' *cough*latelunch*cough* at this Mexican place. And suddenly here I am, wronged as I was by management at the beginning of the year, now SURROUNDED by them and talking about the wife and kids and how things are at home and so on and so forth. Just generally smoozing around with management as if I'm one of them! As if nothing happened!
I've decided that makes me the unofficial 'Manager's Pet'. I bark at every stranger that passes, and they pat me on the head, and whenever I come up with a new trick, they coo over how adorable it is and give me a treat.
...have I mentioned how much I DESPISE authority figures? Cause I do. I really really do. It pisses me off how I'm being treated like a pony on parade, and my only consolation is that, oh yes, they WILL get theirs before this is over with.
So, getting home at four in the afternoon, I have about an hour to nap before going BACK to work, til about two in the morning. Ain't that grand? They're going to stay open that long when their best people are EXHAUSTED from the parade! If that weren't enough...
Now, I LIKE getting hit by customers. Means that they're really THAT scared of me and consider me a threat. That's a good thing.
But this bastard nailed me in the throat. Straight judo chop to my voice box, and suddenly, my voice I am without. Not good, as most of my act revolves around TALKING.
So, we cranked up the fog in London Town, and I spent the rest of the night scaring people [i]without making a single solitary sound[/i]. Just appearing out of the fog to beckon them on, dissapearing, reappearing again at their side to continue beckoning...so on til they get to the Forest. And they're freaking out because they can't tell where I've gone and when I'm going to pop up next. It's not scary as much as unnerving...which is good, because it sets them up for those around me.
Tonight, my voice wasn't COMPLETELY back, but at least I'd had a decent night's sleep! So my brilliant self developed an idea to work my silence into my act.
This picture taken about 15 minutes ago. And if I look like a deranged crackwhore, it's because I AM tired. But I love you enough to show you this pic, ne?
Here was me the other night, in my Goth!Schu jacket. Spiffy, ne?
And by the by, today is official Grab Bindiya's Butt Day, in case you didn't know. Why?
Because EVERY MOTHERFUCKER IN THE HOUSE DECIDED TO GRAB MY ASS. Chris and Nancy thought it was a brilliant plan to wake me up where I'd fallen asleep in front of the manager's desk. Yes. Again. That's my spot now. I demand a doggy bed, if I'm going to be the fucking pet. And it better be silk lined.
Fuckers.
So yes. Leave a comment and grab my ass too, if you like. Hell if I give a fuck anymore. And that's all in my world tonight. Later, puppies and kittens.
Right, so. My genius self goes over to Catacombs after a GRUELING night at the Beast. The people just wouldn't quit walking through the door! Bastards.
I note that the Pub has a new decoration...while at Ren Faire the previous week, Lauren, our Jack the Ripper, has bought a silk rose and placed it in my tankard on the table. He is somewhat annoyed I don't take it home and treat it as a personal gift, which troubles me some, but he KNOWS I'm taken, so never mind it much. It's pretty. I like it in the Pub. So in the Pub it shall remain.
*pause*
Along with HypnoToad. Cause HypnoToad rules.
Anywho, went over and partied with Catacombs. One of the guys had a BEAUTIFUL hypo-albino burmese python that I was allowed to cart around. At least until sweet little Nemesis decided to give me a -hug-. That not good. Snakey go BACK now, thanks.
So, tried to sleep, couldn't, and ended up back at the Beast at SEVEN IN THE FUCKING MORNING. Everyone is dragging their asses, but I think I'm the only one that, upon getting airbrushed, curled up by the manager's desk in the break room and went to sleep. Or doze, as I was constantly being awakened by various goings on.
Needless to say, my ass is RIDING the float. I am not walking, thank you so very much. I'll just smile and wave my knife at the little kiddies and get hay on my butt, thanks.
So, as is custom, Monty buys us all 'breakfast' *cough*latelunch*cough* at this Mexican place. And suddenly here I am, wronged as I was by management at the beginning of the year, now SURROUNDED by them and talking about the wife and kids and how things are at home and so on and so forth. Just generally smoozing around with management as if I'm one of them! As if nothing happened!
I've decided that makes me the unofficial 'Manager's Pet'. I bark at every stranger that passes, and they pat me on the head, and whenever I come up with a new trick, they coo over how adorable it is and give me a treat.
...have I mentioned how much I DESPISE authority figures? Cause I do. I really really do. It pisses me off how I'm being treated like a pony on parade, and my only consolation is that, oh yes, they WILL get theirs before this is over with.
So, getting home at four in the afternoon, I have about an hour to nap before going BACK to work, til about two in the morning. Ain't that grand? They're going to stay open that long when their best people are EXHAUSTED from the parade! If that weren't enough...
Now, I LIKE getting hit by customers. Means that they're really THAT scared of me and consider me a threat. That's a good thing.
But this bastard nailed me in the throat. Straight judo chop to my voice box, and suddenly, my voice I am without. Not good, as most of my act revolves around TALKING.
So, we cranked up the fog in London Town, and I spent the rest of the night scaring people [i]without making a single solitary sound[/i]. Just appearing out of the fog to beckon them on, dissapearing, reappearing again at their side to continue beckoning...so on til they get to the Forest. And they're freaking out because they can't tell where I've gone and when I'm going to pop up next. It's not scary as much as unnerving...which is good, because it sets them up for those around me.
Tonight, my voice wasn't COMPLETELY back, but at least I'd had a decent night's sleep! So my brilliant self developed an idea to work my silence into my act.
This picture taken about 15 minutes ago. And if I look like a deranged crackwhore, it's because I AM tired. But I love you enough to show you this pic, ne?
Here was me the other night, in my Goth!Schu jacket. Spiffy, ne?
And by the by, today is official Grab Bindiya's Butt Day, in case you didn't know. Why?
Because EVERY MOTHERFUCKER IN THE HOUSE DECIDED TO GRAB MY ASS. Chris and Nancy thought it was a brilliant plan to wake me up where I'd fallen asleep in front of the manager's desk. Yes. Again. That's my spot now. I demand a doggy bed, if I'm going to be the fucking pet. And it better be silk lined.
Fuckers.
So yes. Leave a comment and grab my ass too, if you like. Hell if I give a fuck anymore. And that's all in my world tonight. Later, puppies and kittens.