RANT: Sycasuse? Really? Oh well, potatoe, po-tah-toe. Fucking Osama. RAVE: Took a half day to relive the old days by planting with my good girlfriends at our favorite bar watching basketball, highlighting pools, and consuming as much GM and beer as possible. Mission accomplished and a fabulous time was had. I'm just sad that I'm being responsible and am home as G'Town sucks it. The games have been fucking incredible so far. Murray State! St. Marys! And I'll even give it to that scrappy Robert Morris...well done, boys! Fuck, I'm mad for March! RANT-ish: Get well soon, Arinze!
Rave: It's been what? 3 hours? And I now have 3 mice caught in traps that don't kill them, but trap them alive in a plastic sarcophagus. I just watched one of them enter the trap and then heard it click shut, sealing his fate. Oh the horrible things I'm going to do to these little fuckers... The first two are going to be named in honor of my step mother and her daughter...I'm thinking a Joan of Arc send off will be appropriate. Eat my broom and shit all over my house? Don't think there's not going to be retribution of a most horrible and foul nature.
RAVE ToyToy and his mice remind me of the guy in his cell in Green Mile. Please, Mr. Toy, name one of them "Mr. Jiggles". RAVE We can cancel the ad in CL for a whiskey drinking red-neck from Miss. Our very own is back.
I can't edit the previous post, but splash mouse #4. I didn't even have to waste a trap on him...I heard him in the garbage and quick as lightning I grabbed the bag and sealed it. I wasn't in a very imaginative mood as to what to do with him, so I simply put the bag under the back wheel of my truck and backed over it. Squash. Daddy's home mother fuckers. Damn it, another one just went running across my floor. These things are worse then real estate agents. whatisinaname: If one of these little bastards shows a talent beyond shitting all over everything, eating my broom, or just generally pissing me off, I will gladly name him Mr. Jiggles and give him a nice cigar box to call home. Until that time, it's fucking war and I am the righteous hammer of God and sit in judgment of their deeds.
Rant: My grandma died last night. I found out this morning. Her favorite song in the world was Danny Boy sung by the Irish Tenors. It is also the standard funeral song in our family, being Irish. She died at 9:30. Last night at the bar I put on Danny Boy by them at roughly the same time. Sometimes the world works in mysterious ways.
Rant: I just remembered, after I ordered tickets to Rockfest, that my sister's graduation party is on the same day. Shit, my sister probably won't care, since she would probably rather be at the concert than at her own party. My mother, on the other hand... Fuck, I really want to go. I guess I have two months to decide/debate with my mom about this. Rave: If I go, then May is going to be the best month of this year for me. My birthday is in May, Pearl Jam concert, Rockfest, vacation from work, and hopefully a camping trip or two. I just hope my mom doesn't give me a huge guilt trip and throw a wrench in the works.
RAVE: This is the second day of 2010 that I have not smoked pot. Ugh. (Rave as in I'm trying to cut-back/manage it better, not rave as in "look how much weed I smoke!")
RAVE: Fucking gorgeous weather in Iowa folks. and what does that mean? RANGE TIME! Rant: Some motherfuckers trashed the pistol range. Cartridge boxes, 12 gauge shells, and a shitload of 7.62x39. On the fucking pistol range. They shot up a steel shelf, left it there, and blasted the fucking regulations sign.
RANT: Today was just an all around rotten day. I'm suffering from "I'm about to get the curse" insomnia and have raging hot flashes like a 70 year old woman. I thought these Satanic hormonal changes start when I'm pre-menopausal, not ten years away said awful phenomenon! Fuck you, gender. RANTIER: Today was also the day Mr. Pink had a mental breakdown over nothing; I received a disturbing text around 10:30AM that stated he should be alone in his misery and he was so sorry he was such a bad husband. Seeing as I've dealt with his waves of clinical depression before, I did the wifely duty of "I love you, you're fine, I want to be with you, you are a good husband, etc." RANTIEST: Just as I finally got the husband back on track mentally, he received his rejection letter from Seattle U's graduate program. RAVE: Because I have to be an optimist when my beloved's life shatters into pieces, I reminded him that we could now get the fuck out of WA that much quicker and back east where we belong. And, he still has his acceptance at GA State deferred until the fall. Somehow I remain hopeful that this house will sell without taking a huge hit financially and I'll have employment in my field in Atlanta. RAVIER: Props to Drake for keeping my hopes up a little higher when he let me know the Dept. of Corrections has billboards up advertising they're still hiring. Drake, you made a petite redhead relieved, if only for a moment. RAVIEST: After all, tomorrow is another day.
Rant: Bad things happen in streaks I've been told. One of my best friends Dad had a heart attack. He's alright now, but it was scary. And, I fell (I never fall) and hit the back of my head off the pavement pretty hard Wednesday night, resulting in a nice little concussion for me. I've never been concussed before. I really hope that's the end of the bad luck for a while.
Rant:The damn drunk chat is never up when I come home drunk on a friday night. I live in Aus, Chater you should have the drunk chat up ready for us even if its a quiet one it should still be there. Rave: That being said fuck its good to be home sleeping in my own man sized bed instead of the fucking midget one with a shitty mattress I've had for the past two weeks.
Rant: Sometimes I really hate having roommates, and yesterday was one of those days. After working all day I got home and just wanted to relax and play some PS3. Two of my roommates, who are currently unemployed, sat at the bar all day getting drunk and watching the NCAA tournament. That's fine with me of course, I do love a long day of drinking from time to time, but it pisses me off when they come home at 7pm and barge into my room and try to tackle me, and then continue to be extremely obnoxious for the rest of the night when all I want to do is relax. Tools. Rave: Its Friday!
Rave: After all the shit that happened at the start of the week: car, chipped tooth, etc.. the last two days have been pretty good. I had a job interview for Allina go very well yesterday and as I walked out I got a call to setup a second interview for a company that I had interviewed with before (that sounded VERY interested). I got a rental car from the chick who hit me's insurance, which turned out to be a Chrysler 300 (win). My truck may be totalled, and if it is, I'm buying a Tahoe.
Rave: Third place in my "strictly for entertainment" bracket and in the money, it took me about 2 minutes to fill it out. Rant: I am sure I just jinxed myself.
Rave: There is no one at the office today. Watching MMA Live on the 52" presentation LCD on my wall while browsing for some new summer gear. Rant: There is no one at the office today and I'm extremely jealous that I'm here and they're not. Granted I worked from home on Wed/Thurs but I'm petty like that. Rave: Fuck it I'm leaving at 1 so I can log some miles in the sun. Rave: Sparring session tonight. Pretty sure I'm taking on a cop I know that has about 40lbs on me. He's huge but he's slow. It's going down like Pacquiao-Clottey.
Rant: I think I'm still hungover. From Wednesday. My poop still reeks of Guiness. Actually that last one may be a rave. One of my best friends is getting married in a few weeks. His bachelor party is going on this weekend. I offered to put us up in a presidential suite, in any hotel, anywhere. So where is the party? In my friends basement. No strippers, hookers, or good beer. I did more for St. Patricks day than he is doing for his bachelor party. I feel sorry for my friends sometimes. Rave: Drunk with old friends this weekend.
Rant- I highly doubt the girl in the porn I'm perusing is only 18. 18 year olds don't have crow's feet. Porn directors need an ethics semiar or two. I almost busted it to a 20-something old maid.
I motherfucking hate traveling in groups. Decisions that should be done in an hour end up being tossed back and forth for a fucking week. FUCK YOU GUYS, I'M GONNA GO WITHOUT YOU IF YOU DON'T STOP BEING INDECISIVE AND PANSYASS FUCKERS