|2:07 PM|
As Will/Dante requests, I have more pictures. Like of Portal not hurting me. I was at the grocery store, foraging for ingredients when I came across The most disturbing cereal box I have seen in ages. The EYES.
Messing around in photoshop yielded this this odd image.
The rest of you, sign that goddamn guestbook, goddammit.
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This post is supposed to be me gushing and being cute. |11:35 AM|
Edited that post two below this one for some more details. Feel free to read it. Oh, and I fixed the last couple images in the last one.
Attempting to nap while curled up in the arms of someone else is wonderfully challenging. After a couple long nights and a shopping trip that took me all over town, I just wanted to catch a few winks last night. At the time, I happened to be at Portal's new place, and I mumbled something about "Just a quick second" before crashing down atop her bed like a slain giant. Moments later, Portal realized that if I was allowed to sleep, it would take a cataclysm to wake me back up. She proceeded to grab my shoulders and start bouncing me against the bed saying "Cooooookies! We were going to bake cookies!". It was cute, but ineffective, as I have slept through much worse, sometimes at the risk of my job.
Giving up, she curled up with me, and was a wonderful addition to my attempt to sleep, however certain logistical issues came up. When you're trying to sleep, you're trying to stay still. So if you have an elbow planted on your arm and your head is at a funny angle, you have to move it. Studies could be done about the proper, most comfortable ways to tangle legs together, but Portal and I manage. I'll keep an eye on the scientific journals for "Cuddle Physics" but they seem to just be working on "Laser Cooling" and other boring crap like that.
Just as an aside, I accidently head-butted her when getting out of bed later, and for a second I thought I'd broken her nose. She's okay, and if it makes you the reader feel better, she hit me with a very strong elbow months back. I found a particular knot in her back during a backrub, and her elbow twitched backwards into my face. Such a helpless feeling, seeing a strike about to land and knowing your hands are not in a position to block it, so you just stare at the hit until it lands. "Uh oh".
Long dark tea time. |4:55 PM|
At about 1:30pm here it freaking DIED. The work day was crawling along at the speed of mammal evolution. So I played with my digital camera. Maybe you'll be amused, maybe not. For your consumption. There might be rain in my office. My Gosh! The chairs! They must long for the pitter patter of tiny ottomans. A trashcan. That one was by request. Eeesh. That's me with the teeth of Sue the T-Rex. Cone hat. Also by request. The hat is better displayed here. Cone hat 2. My expression is better in this picture. Auctioning my stapler to invisible men that live in my desk.
Do they make teflon pants? |12:10 PM|
Edit: I forgot to add: The vampire meetup day is in 20 days. The sort of people we'll be meeting should be varied. Varied, in the realm of total fucking nutjobs, that is. I'll interview a couple of them, take some pictures and video if possible. I don't think I'll win any journalism awards, since breaking the "otherkin are insane" story is an old one.
I dislike strip joints. They're smelly, sweaty, and expensive. I was in a strip bar over the weekend for a friend's birthday party. Someone bought me a lapdance, and I wasn't sure how to react. I tried to look as though I was enjoying it, but I was really waiting for it to be over. I laughed a lot. Despite the humor, I still had an odd looking woman humming at my ear and crotch trying to be hot. Uncomfortable is not the proper word for it. I think if I am ever invited to another strip club I'm not going to sit down. Harder to inflict a lap dance on someone when they don't have a chair. I could also wear really slick/smooth pants so any attempts to sit on my lap are met with a comical non-stick surface.
I also fucked up my car on a gate. The neighbors were arguing, looking like they might turn violent, but I should still have been paying attention at a critical moment. It's my fault. How often do people use "It's completely my fault" when they don't fully believe it's their fault, but think that other people believe it is all their fault? And what's wrong with adverbs, anyway? Vorpal says a good step in writing is eliminating as many words that end in "-ly" as possible. I admit that many of them are superfluous, but emphasis is needed in some messages.
Someone who used to be my friend might be destroying themselves right now. Makes me sick, I wonder what happened to the friend I used to have. Apparently they're no longer on their self destructive path, good for them. The suffering of artists is often a symptom, not a cause, of creativity. Part of me wishes that I still talked to this person, because I'd feel obligated to help them somehow, but this is the sort of situation where I think they'll have to figure it out for themselves. Like why not having your own bathroom sucks. Romanticizing tragic figures is dangerous, however I'm not one to talk as I do it myself.
I saw "The Italian job" for free, surprisingly not-terrible. Inoffensive, only a few violent scenes, and creative in some interesting fields of the "complicated robbery movie".
I'm at work, and Time Warner is again having issues taking care of my payment. I'm going to have to go in with cash. Update: Paid with cash, I'll be back online in a couple days. Hooorah. In the meantime, I can clean my new house. Otherwise my roommate will cut me.
Rent is almost due. My W2's are missing.
Yes, I intend to expand on all these soon, and hopefully throw some humor in, but I want to get them down before I forget.
Beds before shotguns |12:08 PM|
I'm still mostly offline, and in fact I'm posting this from work. While that seems intensely dorky, I'm not here to update a damn journal. I'm waiting for a phonecall from a guy who is taking that cat nicknamed "bandit" off of my family's hands.
I lost my damned boomerrang. I was showing some folks how to throw it in what turned out to be a bit too-strong of a headwind. I'll have to ask the maintenance guy for a ladder and get on the roof. Since I had spare time on my hands at that point, I took my roommate and her friends shopping, before going on my own shopping adventure with Portalstar. What a romantic saturday night.
I picked up the supplies for making a bunch of cookies, so that should be amusing.
Portal and I continued our search for potten Basil, and we finally gave up last night. Too late in the season, and apparently every human being in Austin wanted Basil on thursday and friday. Curses. While browsing I did see a really pretty house plant called a caladium, which of course turned out to be poisonous. Figures. Good thing I found out about that before my cat did.
As for the title of this post, I was hearing some creepy ex-boyfriends-turned-demonic-asshole stories from my roommate and friends. This made me reconsider the purchase of a firearm. (Notice I said "Firearm" and not "gun". If you're a guy and have a female friend handy, have her say in the most nuetral tone of voice "You're buying a gun." and it will STILL make it sound like a stupid idea. It's like magic). They had a decent (cheap) Mossberg there, and when Portal noticed me shopping for death tools, she politely reminded me "Don't you have to buy a new bed first?". Beds before shotguns, people. It's the only way we can have peace.
Hmmm, still no phone call. And of course I left the USB cable for this camera back at home, so I can't show you the goofy images I have. They're funny, seriously. Guess they'll just have to wait.
I wonder if there's such thing as pill bottle recycling?
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