|2:43 PM|
I have become worried about the status of my toaster. Though I believe I have searched through all of the boxes I brought with me, I cannot find it. I have found knives, and so I am now equipped with both knives and spoons if I wish to eat. Previously, I had been limited to a box of plastic spoons, which made my eating selections rather limited.
I still cannot find where most of my forks went, or where some of my pots and pans and my spices have gone. I don't think I can go to my previous apartment and say "Did you find some items left behind, as if by a mad man?"
I was quite crazy when I was moving, it is possible I ate them or some such.
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Friday, October 19, 2001
|5:48 PM|
I fell asleep at work today. I just crawled underneath my desk and hid in the leg well/Secretary compartment. Oh, I'm terrible for that joke. Anyway, I just fell asleep and every so often yelled to a co-worker to make sure there were no new work orders pouring in as I snoozed. Eventually the phone started ringing again and I stopped my dusty dreaming.
I also gave blood, that's why I was sleeping...yeah...I was saving my strength. There were some attractive females at the blood donation center, I'm going back december 14th. "So, bleed here often?"
I do feel pretty good for having donated. My blood type (O positive) accounts for only 16% of the population, but can be used by anyone with Rh positive blood. (A+, B+ yadda yadda) They didn't mind that my blood was rife with amphetamines and antidepressants. This is most excellent.
I think I'm going to go drink some more water and take a nap.
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I just got home, goddamn traffic was twice as bad as normal so now I can't get to the damn blood and tissue center and damn well get DRAINED. I had to BE THERE by 5:30 and since I was a good 45 minutes away by the time 5:30 even rolled around, I had to turn around and come back. Dammit. I'm going to leave work early tommorow, I'll claim illness or poison or alien invasion if I have to.
OH HOORAY! The contract announcment has been pushed back to Monday. Sure, and that is going to be pushed back to Wedensday, and so on. Not to bad mouth the company, but for Christ Sake's Lexmark, grow some motherfucking BALLS. We're prostrating ourself before this company and getting whipped for our trouble. To hell with 'em, I say.
But I'm a proud stubborn poor person.
Bah. At least I'm off of work. I wanted to give back to the community today. Guess recycling is all I can hope for.
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|12:32 PM|Here is the cutest cat I have seen in ages. It obviously has to be the eyes, as the rest of the cat is is a bit indistinct on this monitor. I'm running this on a computer at home and hey what the hell!? That's peculiar! This monitor went NUTS right before my phone started to ring. Powerful forces at work. Electromagnetic Forces!
I also wanted to point out that I fully approve of sand people shooting at Jawas. This is a scene that was not in Phantom menance until the DVD deleted scenes bit. Which is a drag.
|12:22 PM|
Geez. It stinks in this office. Though it is unclear as to what exactly occurred in the trash can, the who and hows are known. My co worked had dumped a bag of stale, old, very spicey sunflower seed shells into the can, along with a couple of our lunches. It is also possible that some kind of experimental growth hormone was used, since the shocking events that have transpired happened rather suddenly.
Right now, a thick funk of spice and what smells a bit like hamburger is engulfing this office. Luckily, I have a fan and it is doing its damnedest to empty this place of the stench. That stench is going someplace, though. The rest of the dell office building. That's okay, because every week it seems to have some kind of new "plague" of one stench or another. One day it was an overpowering perfume, the next was old seafood, a week later was sewage. I suppose they are used to it by now.
Speaking of Dell, the announcment of what is to become of my company (and therefore, me) has been delayed. My company takes too much crap, and seems to be bending itself over a barrel with it's pants down. I may quit out of principle, and go manage a communist boot factory, where I will take crap from NO ONE. 'cept maybe "the people".
zusty has brought up the point of the incomplete picture. This little blog does not show any reader the whole me, thought it is a representation of some of the larger events going on. I think even though I may not write about them for all to see, the secret events and connections are given structure by the things I do talk about. It all gets organized in the end. At least, it does in my head.
Brreeeeeep.
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|10:25 AM|The Archives are functional, if by functional you mean ugly as sin. But if you want to see a general descent in my writing and then a new birth....or something, they are available for your clicking pleasure.
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Wednesday, October 17, 2001
|8:38 PM|
And now, for an even more E/N update:
Some blasted cat crossed the street in front of my car a few moments ago. I managed to miss the bastard but I took another thousand or so miles off my tires, with all the screeching and melting they were forced to do. Blasted cat. That's almost as bad as the damned turtle I had to dodge. He was crossing what in Illinois would be considered a highway. That turtle was either the dumbest creature in the state, or had balls of solid iron. *Grinding Noises* Turtle: "I've got just 30 more turtle lengths to go, and ain't no force on Turtle World gonna stop me!" *Iron continues to grind against asphalt*
Vorpal keeps quitting smoking. So far I have won $20 off of him in regards to him "quitting" as well as innumerable pack of cigs. He keeps handing me more or less full packs in an attempt to quit, but he ends up buying another pack. If only I could sell the damn things back to him, or other people. It probably doesn't help that I make a point of stuffing them down my pants in front of him, to discourage him from asking for them back.
DO NOT EVER foul up with a triple bladed razor. That son of a bitch is comfortable until it bites into your lip, and then the wound just won't stop bleeding.
|5:19 PM|
(Note: There were all kinds of flow and wording issues with this update. I must have something seriously WRONG with me. Ah well.)
I'd like to respond to the allegations, that Mr. Cecil is in fact, gay.I am not, to the best of my knowledge, a homosexual. Though I am happy often, I am also attracted to several lifeforms that classify themselves as female humans. The Onion has been printing these allegations, and I would prefer they stopped.
Since I have linked to zusty and that sort of defeats the purpose of not linking to lampshade, here I go linking to her. She is a cutie (like zusty), and updates Gangbang (Like Zusty). I must admit to attention whoring, I "gave her permission" to be linked, though she asked ages ago. I am merely whoring my site out, though not as much as I suppose I could be. Such as burning the URL into front yards and slow moving pets.
I guess I do update quite a few sites, but I've got SUCH a big ego. It's very important to keep it fed.
As for her question as to my reaction to the world ending...I don't really have any scores to settle...hell, I'd probably drive out to a high place, listen to loud surf rock, and watch the clouds turn red. That, or try to catch the Bomb with my teeth.
Zusty's theme song question, the one I guess is my question since I asked her, is answered by "The Ventures: Out of Limits".
Not that I'm incredibly suprised or anything, but I was not told today whether or not my company got the contract.
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Tuesday, October 16, 2001
|11:56 PM|
I can't really justify another update just about a little sketch of me, even if it is animated. Tommorow I find out if the Lexmark contract is renewed. It's a worrisome time. If all hell breaks lose and I get laid off...I dunno. I don't hear the call of the open highway quite as much as I used to. Must be the drugs. Or maybe I have too much stuff. Well, anyway, directly below this post I've edited in an ANIMATED version of the avatar. Because I think it's neato.
I have been trying to come up with entirely random things to say...like "Let's crack open their heads and search for free potatos" or "I built my first God out of twine and an old copy of 'Moby Dick'". I think this might have a purpose, but I am often wrong.
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Monday, October 15, 2001
|12:41 AM|
I have again updated Comedy GangBang. I do really like the Avatar image made by Zusty. Though, some people find it a tad disturbing. So to help them out I have made some more distressing versions of the Avatar.
You being, whoever the heck you are. I have a couple regular readers I know about...I wonder how many I've picked up. Who are these readers?! Throw them to the lions!
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|2:12 PM|Derek and I, on occassion get into a bit of a modified flame war. It's not so much the standard argument so much as who can come up with the most vile possible mental image. Thought it's boring as all hell, probably, the edited log of our most recent bout hs been put online. I was declared the winner. That would make Derek and I tied at one victory a piece.
I updated on Comedy Gangbang. The post was inspired in a large way by the previously mentioned chat log. I think my avatar's appearence on that page is what leads me to post the most digusting or twisted versions of my humor. The humor style I am using on that site is very different than what I would usually even begin to write, but thanks to the avatar by Zusty, I feel the need to live up to it.
Artfag wants me to Update. I'll see about typing up my adventure with this latest FOUL ACCURSSED computer repair job.
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|9:27 AM|
New Attitude, same old Cecil. I took a step across my room yesterday, holding a large surge protector. I had to lift it to get the cable off the ground away from snags. As I stepped, the surge protector lightly tapped the glass globe surrounding the light bulbs on my ceiling fan. This globe promptly exploded, hurling glass in every direction. I don't expect for those fixtures to be made of saftey glass, but this one had apparently been made of danger glass, as the shards have filled every possible area of this room and are all sharper than any knife I've seen. Some of them have gotten to places that I think would have only been reachable if the glass grew tiny legs and ran. I started picking it all up, and putting it into a large trashbag but the moment those little missles hit the bag they cut through it. The clean up process ended up taking half an hour, which is a long time to be handling glass. Of course, I did delay the cleaning up for several hours due to the time constraints I was under to fix a computer, which meant kneeling in glass, stepping over glass, digging glass out of my fingers when I typed on a glass-booby trapped keyboard.
What the hell am I going on about this for? It used to be that I would have tolerated the broken glass for an indefinite period of time, well, maybe a couple days. But I chose not to clean it up that moment because I had another task to complete, not because I wanted to avoid a dangerous chore.
Sure, I'm harping on my drugs again, but I now shoot out confidence beams from my eyes that make lesser people turn away. I can meet the gazes of anyone I run into and not look away nervously. Ahhh glorious day.
I promise when I get back from this repair job today that I'll post something more entertaining.
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I'd like to respond to the allegations, that Mr. Cecil is in fact, gay.I am not, to the best of my knowledge, a homosexual. Though I am happy often, I am also attracted to several lifeforms that classify themselves as female humans. 
