You’re all gonna be sorry when I move to the moon!
Yes, guys, the fence will be okay. RUDE ASSES.
The birthday season is almost over! It was super awesome as always! Kaz and Tito made me a birthday song and Notorious LIG and Vero rented friends for me, Mary gave me a beach house with free cupcakes and Grange ensured that I will spend a fortune on wine for the rest of my life because NOTHING will ever be good enough for those glasses.
I’ve also started to get my literary life in order and my friends have been so great with “offering” to “voluntarily” edit my crap. So, yay, Dawn.
But why all the Argentinian tears? Remember my awful day job? Well, somehow my project was this self contained island free of interference. We were able to use the internet and really do what we wanted absent much supervision. Do you already see where this is going?
One of my co-workers, who I call #methlady for… reasons, decides to call in the IT guy because her AOL is slow. O_o
Of course, they shut our environment the very next day. Everyone was sad. And very very angry at the stupid crackhead #methlady.
BUT THEN the black guy, who I call #blackguy cause… lazy, figures out a way to reset the settings to restore the internet. You have to do it everyday, but who cares because… internet.
Sadly, the reset works for EVERYONE except me. Sad panda.
So, for a week and a half, I’ve watched them reading their stupid department store sites and their entertainment gossip pages, while I get a hunchback and carpal tunnel from hitting refresh on my phone – which doesnt even get 4G from 9-6.
The reading this Sunday was the story of Sodom. And how God was gonna burn that whole shizz down, but Abraham was all “what if I find 50 good men”? And God was all “alright, I’ll spare the city for 50 good men.” And then Abraham was all “weelll, what about 45?” God, is like fine, forty-five. And then Abraham goes “can we say 30″? God is totally giving him the side-eye now, but goes “mmm 30. ok. I’ve got other stuff to do here, Abraham!”
But Abraham persists, going lower and lower with his good man count and keeping God from inventing television all that much sooner. Suddenly, I realize that it’s like a message! I should be happy to be the one honest man saving the project from total unproductivity.
But today as I looked from pig to man and man to pig, I thought, nuts to this! I’m going to call the IT guy about why my cracked.com doesn’t work anymore, but no one else seems to have a problem.
The roof! The roof! The roof is!
In something or other that I know nothing about, but Imma go send my mom another text.
Representing the cats, Mark O’Mara insisted the woman was armed with the sidewalk and his clients were merely defending themselves. What? Too soon?
I’m working on a couple of new projects. But, since I’m lazy, I decided to mine the Clareified archives to see if there’s anything I could recycle. This blog is almost TEN gotdamn years old. It was fun to see when I met some of my friends, less fun noting the not-friends anymore. I have to say the 2003-2007 years were hilarious, the 2008-2011 years were sad and I had to stop reading for the day.
I noticed SO many people that I used to link to have quit blogging — and most of those links are dead now. But there was one guy who I used to read religiously. He was like this white, male Southern version of me, but without the attempts to be social or upbeat. I found his blog AND HE’S JUST THE SAME STILL. Depressed, despondent, broke, and anti-social. Kinda made me feel good. I know, I know, I’m a horrible person.
I did find a couple of things that I’ll try to repurpose, but mostly it was just a fun diary of a borderline shut-in. LOL.
Ah, good times, good times.
I remember when we used to want to hang out
I remember we could talk about anything
I remember I remember I remember
We never talk about the future
We never talk about the past anymore
We never ask ourselves the questions to the answers that nobody even wants to know
Oh well Oh well Oh well Ohhhhhhhh