... and getting ready to head over to my godsons' house for the traditional thing.
Tons of amazing food, including homemade pies and cream puffs.
Tons of presents and toys. It's a madhouse. You think I'm exaggerating, but you have NO idea.
The mad and often disjointed rantings of a large man. Warning: Posts on this blog may not be suitable for younger readers.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Three days and counting ...
Christmas is approaching at warp speed, it seems.
I find myself vacillating between not being able to wait until it gets here to not being able to wait until it's over and done with.
From the commercial/social side, I have all my shopping done except for two people, who I plan to take care of today. Wrapping of all the gifts will be done tonight.
Does anyone else sometimes worry or have anxiety over what others will get them for Christmas? Perhaps there have been too many instances of "Really? This is what he/she/they thought I wanted/would like?"
To be fair, there also have been many instances in which gifts to me were "perfect" ... or at least suitable and apt.
From my end, I used to delight in examining a person in my mind's eye, their likes and preferences, their needs and wants, their style and personality in determining what present to get for them at Christmas. A vast majority of the time, I succeeded. I know when I put thought into it and make an effort, I usually succeed in doing a very good job at gifting.
But now I rarely do that, at least not for all the people on my list. This year, for example, the vast majority of people to whom I will be giving presents will be getting gift cards. Well, that's the main part of the gift. The trick I do now is getting a few little things to accompany the gift card. For example, one woman will get a few small bottles of Bailey's, as I know it's her preferred alcoholic beverage. Kids will get candy and little toys together with their gift cards, some other women will get fine chocolate (Godiva, usually).
Not to say they aren't appreciative. Every one that will get a gift card will get one to a vendor they frequent and enjoy, whether that be Macy's, Home Depot (the guys, duh!) or Game Stop (kids can't get enough video games and accessories!)
But maybe next year I'll break this recent pattern and go back to being more of a "Jingle George," like I was in the past. Then again, maybe I won't. I guess it just depends how much more Christmas-y I feel in 2012.
I find myself vacillating between not being able to wait until it gets here to not being able to wait until it's over and done with.
From the commercial/social side, I have all my shopping done except for two people, who I plan to take care of today. Wrapping of all the gifts will be done tonight.
Does anyone else sometimes worry or have anxiety over what others will get them for Christmas? Perhaps there have been too many instances of "Really? This is what he/she/they thought I wanted/would like?"
To be fair, there also have been many instances in which gifts to me were "perfect" ... or at least suitable and apt.
From my end, I used to delight in examining a person in my mind's eye, their likes and preferences, their needs and wants, their style and personality in determining what present to get for them at Christmas. A vast majority of the time, I succeeded. I know when I put thought into it and make an effort, I usually succeed in doing a very good job at gifting.
But now I rarely do that, at least not for all the people on my list. This year, for example, the vast majority of people to whom I will be giving presents will be getting gift cards. Well, that's the main part of the gift. The trick I do now is getting a few little things to accompany the gift card. For example, one woman will get a few small bottles of Bailey's, as I know it's her preferred alcoholic beverage. Kids will get candy and little toys together with their gift cards, some other women will get fine chocolate (Godiva, usually).
Not to say they aren't appreciative. Every one that will get a gift card will get one to a vendor they frequent and enjoy, whether that be Macy's, Home Depot (the guys, duh!) or Game Stop (kids can't get enough video games and accessories!)
But maybe next year I'll break this recent pattern and go back to being more of a "Jingle George," like I was in the past. Then again, maybe I won't. I guess it just depends how much more Christmas-y I feel in 2012.
Friday, December 02, 2011
it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas ...
It's just the second day of December and yet I'm actually starting to feel the Christmas spirit.
I live on a tropical island, so there's no cold weather, no snow, no icicles hanging from the roof. There are no reindeer, only karabao. No winter wonderland, just palm trees and sun and blue sky for miles and miles.
Yet I'm getting giddy. I can't wait to start wrapping presents. To hear more Christmas carols. To see the excitement of my godsons and all the little kids in my life.
People always seem nicer at this time of year, friendlier. I love exchanging "Merry Christmas" with strangers. Seeing acts of goodwill toward fellow men.
I dread the craziness of shopping malls and stores, especially with the tax refunds going out this weekend and lots more crazy sales just a week after Black Friday, but I'm still eager to shop. I'll just make sure I go when it's the least crazy.
This time of year I especially miss my family. My mom's in the states, as are two brothers and a sister, who I haven't seen in soooooo long, and her beautiful daughters, my nieces, as well.
And I miss my father even more. He died 15 years ago and yet it still seems so recent. I can't think about him without tears welling up, without my heart wrenching and aching. He died far too early.
My dad reveled in Christmas, though he wasn't blatant about it. But I think of all the little things. Making holiday wreaths from the computer punch cards they used back in the '70s. The boñelos aga and dagu. The late brunch on Christmas day. The sleepy Midnight Masses. Opening one small present after coming back from Midnight Mass and trying hard to fall asleep. Waking the next morning to find presents under the tree that hadn't been there when we went to bed, especially the year he had to put four bicycles together between us coming home and going to sleep, and the children waking up early.
I remember the times he would have me wrap his present to my mother, some surprise out of the blue.
I remember him telling me and my brothers and sisters not to "waste" our money buying him presents. And him keeping all the bad ties and cologne we got him, even if he never used them.
I remember him going out to the jungle to cut down our "Christmas tree."
When I became an adult, I realized that my parents always did their utmost to get us good Christmas presents, even if it was just one small stocking stuffer and one main present.
My dad was an NCO in the Air Force and my mom didn't work full-time till I was in high school — that means we didn't have a lot of money, but they always managed it. I remember my dad saying he liked the back and neck of the chicken, not realizing until later it was so the rest of us could have our favorite pieces. How he never through much away so he could use things later — hammering out bent nails, having coffee cans filled with nuts and bolts. Fixing our old washing machine or doing the brakes or changing the oil on our cars ... and trying to teach us to do the same once we were old enough.
I remember going out to the jungle with him and my siblings and cousins, to get betel nut for the family, and how he let us sell the excess so we'd have our own money.
I remember his delight when I was working and able to afford to get him gifts I knew he'd like, such as a big television, a recliner or a bush-cutter.
And how he'd revel in the joy of his grandchildren, especially at Christmas. He was so patient, so loving, so giving, so caring.
My one regret is that I don't think I will ever be even close to the father he was ... mainly because I have no kids and doubt I'll ever have any, let alone meet a woman who'd want to be with me and bear those children. Likewise, I'll never be able to be the kind of grandfather he was.
I can only try to live up to the standard he set by trying to be the best man I can be, by living the kind of life he wanted me to lead, by following the example he set in the way he lived his life. By being kind and generous and helpful. By being there for others. By not bitching and complaining about the little things. By being strong and good and virtuous.
Merry Christmas, Pop. I love you. And God how I miss you and wish we'd have had more time together.
I live on a tropical island, so there's no cold weather, no snow, no icicles hanging from the roof. There are no reindeer, only karabao. No winter wonderland, just palm trees and sun and blue sky for miles and miles.
Yet I'm getting giddy. I can't wait to start wrapping presents. To hear more Christmas carols. To see the excitement of my godsons and all the little kids in my life.
People always seem nicer at this time of year, friendlier. I love exchanging "Merry Christmas" with strangers. Seeing acts of goodwill toward fellow men.
I dread the craziness of shopping malls and stores, especially with the tax refunds going out this weekend and lots more crazy sales just a week after Black Friday, but I'm still eager to shop. I'll just make sure I go when it's the least crazy.
This time of year I especially miss my family. My mom's in the states, as are two brothers and a sister, who I haven't seen in soooooo long, and her beautiful daughters, my nieces, as well.
And I miss my father even more. He died 15 years ago and yet it still seems so recent. I can't think about him without tears welling up, without my heart wrenching and aching. He died far too early.
My dad reveled in Christmas, though he wasn't blatant about it. But I think of all the little things. Making holiday wreaths from the computer punch cards they used back in the '70s. The boñelos aga and dagu. The late brunch on Christmas day. The sleepy Midnight Masses. Opening one small present after coming back from Midnight Mass and trying hard to fall asleep. Waking the next morning to find presents under the tree that hadn't been there when we went to bed, especially the year he had to put four bicycles together between us coming home and going to sleep, and the children waking up early.
I remember the times he would have me wrap his present to my mother, some surprise out of the blue.
I remember him telling me and my brothers and sisters not to "waste" our money buying him presents. And him keeping all the bad ties and cologne we got him, even if he never used them.
I remember him going out to the jungle to cut down our "Christmas tree."
When I became an adult, I realized that my parents always did their utmost to get us good Christmas presents, even if it was just one small stocking stuffer and one main present.
My dad was an NCO in the Air Force and my mom didn't work full-time till I was in high school — that means we didn't have a lot of money, but they always managed it. I remember my dad saying he liked the back and neck of the chicken, not realizing until later it was so the rest of us could have our favorite pieces. How he never through much away so he could use things later — hammering out bent nails, having coffee cans filled with nuts and bolts. Fixing our old washing machine or doing the brakes or changing the oil on our cars ... and trying to teach us to do the same once we were old enough.
I remember going out to the jungle with him and my siblings and cousins, to get betel nut for the family, and how he let us sell the excess so we'd have our own money.
I remember his delight when I was working and able to afford to get him gifts I knew he'd like, such as a big television, a recliner or a bush-cutter.
And how he'd revel in the joy of his grandchildren, especially at Christmas. He was so patient, so loving, so giving, so caring.
My one regret is that I don't think I will ever be even close to the father he was ... mainly because I have no kids and doubt I'll ever have any, let alone meet a woman who'd want to be with me and bear those children. Likewise, I'll never be able to be the kind of grandfather he was.
I can only try to live up to the standard he set by trying to be the best man I can be, by living the kind of life he wanted me to lead, by following the example he set in the way he lived his life. By being kind and generous and helpful. By being there for others. By not bitching and complaining about the little things. By being strong and good and virtuous.
Merry Christmas, Pop. I love you. And God how I miss you and wish we'd have had more time together.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
perceptions
My days used to seem to be too short. Now they seem too long.
Time used to zip by. Now it seems to drag out.
I used to have to decide what I couldn't do so I could do the things I wanted to do. Now it seems like there's never much to do.
I used to wonder when it all was going to start. Now I wonder why it hasn't started or, if it has, then when it will end.
I used to be sociable, fun-loving, surrounded by friends I could spend time with, do things with, laugh about things with, talk and chat, play, etc. Now I feel like someone my friends used to know — they say "hi" when they see me, they occasionally invite me to social obligations, but their focus is on their families, which is totally understandable. They've progressed and I've remained relatively static. I used to know what was going on in their lives, now I find myself trying to catch up on what they've been doing, how they've been.
I never planned or dreamed to change the world. I know the world hasn't really changed me, but everything around me seems to have changed or continues to change. I'm the same guy I used to be, but everyone else is isn't and they relate to the same guy I am now much differently than they do to the same guy I used to be.
Thus endeth the whinging and whining.
Time used to zip by. Now it seems to drag out.
I used to have to decide what I couldn't do so I could do the things I wanted to do. Now it seems like there's never much to do.
I used to wonder when it all was going to start. Now I wonder why it hasn't started or, if it has, then when it will end.
I used to be sociable, fun-loving, surrounded by friends I could spend time with, do things with, laugh about things with, talk and chat, play, etc. Now I feel like someone my friends used to know — they say "hi" when they see me, they occasionally invite me to social obligations, but their focus is on their families, which is totally understandable. They've progressed and I've remained relatively static. I used to know what was going on in their lives, now I find myself trying to catch up on what they've been doing, how they've been.
I never planned or dreamed to change the world. I know the world hasn't really changed me, but everything around me seems to have changed or continues to change. I'm the same guy I used to be, but everyone else is isn't and they relate to the same guy I am now much differently than they do to the same guy I used to be.
Thus endeth the whinging and whining.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
I need a change ...
... but I have no idea exactly what kind of change, in which area of my life ... but something needs to change.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
New aircon ...
So my air conditioner finally went kaput on Sunday. It started making loud noises on a frequent basis and refused to cool the room. In fact, it got stuck on 88 degrees Farenheit; my non-air-conditioned rooms were cooler than my bedroom!
I was able to sleep for just 4 hours or so as a result; it's difficult to sleep while sweating in the heat plus the lovely Guam humidity.
So Monday meant a lunch hour spent driving to Home Depot in a crazy downpour and loading the thing into my trunk. After work I had just about a half hour to lug it upstairs, unbox it, take the old air conditioner out of the hole, then set up the new unit so I could be ready for my World of Warcraft raid.
That left me sore and hurting (it was pretty heavy, as was the old one, and I did it all myself) and sweaty, but at least my bedroom is once again cool. Heck, with the rainy weather out right now, it's actually chilly and cold!
Hello comforter!!
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
it's even later ...
... earlier?
2:22 a.m. and trying to figure out why I'm not tired enough to fall asleep.
And yet ... going to try it again. Wish me luck.
2:22 a.m. and trying to figure out why I'm not tired enough to fall asleep.
And yet ... going to try it again. Wish me luck.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
It's very late ...
... and I'm waiting for/dreading the call from work that means I will have to come in because of a technical glitch.
I love it when technology bites me in the ass, whether it's directly or indirectly ... don't you?
Somnabitch.
I love it when technology bites me in the ass, whether it's directly or indirectly ... don't you?
Somnabitch.
Friday, September 10, 2010
it can't be Friday already
Even with the Labor Day holiday, I can't believe how fast this week has flown by.
Still have so much shit to take care of before the weekend and during the weekend.
But thank God it IS Friday because that means payday. Been squeaking by the last 10 days, managing every expenditure, but now there will be some extra cash available and I can finally get:
Still have so much shit to take care of before the weekend and during the weekend.
But thank God it IS Friday because that means payday. Been squeaking by the last 10 days, managing every expenditure, but now there will be some extra cash available and I can finally get:
- The massage I've been dying to get for 10 days.
- The haircut I've been putting off -- or do I let it grow? Or maybe a high-and-tight? Or the usual shave? Hmm ...
- Get a couple new pairs of pants that fit my more svelte self
Thursday, September 09, 2010
tonight's goal ...
... is to try to fall asleep before 2 a.m. for the first time this whole week.
Let's hope there are no compelling shows on TV, such as "Swamp People" or "Bones" or ...
Let's hope there are no compelling shows on TV, such as "Swamp People" or "Bones" or ...
Monday, September 06, 2010
sleepless
I really should be asleep by now.
Saturday night/Sunday morning I was up until almost 6 a.m. Woke up at noon. Laid around the apartment pretty much all day, doing nothing.
Felt tired all day, drowsy even.
And yet here it is, 1 a.m., and I've been trying to go to sleep for about 2 hours. Nada. Nothing.
Still awake.
Bleah.
Saturday night/Sunday morning I was up until almost 6 a.m. Woke up at noon. Laid around the apartment pretty much all day, doing nothing.
Felt tired all day, drowsy even.
And yet here it is, 1 a.m., and I've been trying to go to sleep for about 2 hours. Nada. Nothing.
Still awake.
Bleah.
Saturday, September 04, 2010
the weekend ...
Well, it won't really be a weekend, not as most people count it.
Primary Election is today (Saturday) which means I'm working and I'll probably have to be in the office for a little bit on Sunday as well.
Ugh.
Could really use some real down time.
Of course, it would be nice if my computer was working well enough during that down time to actually play World of Warcraft. Grrrr!
Primary Election is today (Saturday) which means I'm working and I'll probably have to be in the office for a little bit on Sunday as well.
Ugh.
Could really use some real down time.
Of course, it would be nice if my computer was working well enough during that down time to actually play World of Warcraft. Grrrr!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
a shameful admission ...
I'm a big fan of professional wrestling.
There. I said it. Happy now?
Yes, I know it's all "fake." Every fight is scripted and choreographed.
That doesn't mean these guys are top, world-class athletes. Have you seen some of the things they do? The falls, the leaps, the moves?
As much as pro wrestling is fake, it's very real. Real injuries and real deaths, sometimes. Bones are broken. Muscles and ligaments tear. Concussions are commonplace.
In my adolescent years, even into my teens, it was a dream of mine to become a pro wrestler. To make it to the WWE (then it was the WWF, till the World Wildlife Fund sued and won) would have been the ultimate.
Ask the people at school or my brother, who sometimes got put in a figure-four leglock, or pressed above my head for a super slam (only cushiony gym mats), or got my version of the Von Erich "claw."
I loved the old school wrestlers -- Bruno Sammartino, Fritz Von Erich ... the ones of my generation like Kerry Von Erich, King Kong Bundy, Jimmy Superfly Snuka, Andre the Giant, Jake The Snake Roberts ... and down the line to The Rock, Stonecold Steve Austin, the Undertaker ... the list goes on and on.
I never went so far as to think about my persona, but I figured at close to 6'6" tall and naturally big, I would have been a success being in the line of Bundy or Bruiser Brody or Killer Kowalski. And yes, that means I would have gone the "bad guy" route. Hehe.
Plus, I'm good with extemperaneous speaking, so I would have been a natural with the interviews, and maybe even have ended up doing commentary like the great Gorilla Monsoon.
A very bad shoulder injury (regular dislocations) put an end to that dream, as well as to any hope for a possible football career.
There are often times when I dream of what would have happened if I had made it out of high school healthy ... gone on to maybe play some college ball and then, if I didn't have what it took to make it to the NFL, tried my big hands at pro wrestling.
Ladies and gentlemen ... in this corner, from parts unknown, standing 6'6" tall and 300 pounds ... The DZER!!!!!
(cue boos)
There. I said it. Happy now?
Yes, I know it's all "fake." Every fight is scripted and choreographed.
That doesn't mean these guys are top, world-class athletes. Have you seen some of the things they do? The falls, the leaps, the moves?
As much as pro wrestling is fake, it's very real. Real injuries and real deaths, sometimes. Bones are broken. Muscles and ligaments tear. Concussions are commonplace.
In my adolescent years, even into my teens, it was a dream of mine to become a pro wrestler. To make it to the WWE (then it was the WWF, till the World Wildlife Fund sued and won) would have been the ultimate.
Ask the people at school or my brother, who sometimes got put in a figure-four leglock, or pressed above my head for a super slam (only cushiony gym mats), or got my version of the Von Erich "claw."
I loved the old school wrestlers -- Bruno Sammartino, Fritz Von Erich ... the ones of my generation like Kerry Von Erich, King Kong Bundy, Jimmy Superfly Snuka, Andre the Giant, Jake The Snake Roberts ... and down the line to The Rock, Stonecold Steve Austin, the Undertaker ... the list goes on and on.
I never went so far as to think about my persona, but I figured at close to 6'6" tall and naturally big, I would have been a success being in the line of Bundy or Bruiser Brody or Killer Kowalski. And yes, that means I would have gone the "bad guy" route. Hehe.
Plus, I'm good with extemperaneous speaking, so I would have been a natural with the interviews, and maybe even have ended up doing commentary like the great Gorilla Monsoon.
A very bad shoulder injury (regular dislocations) put an end to that dream, as well as to any hope for a possible football career.
There are often times when I dream of what would have happened if I had made it out of high school healthy ... gone on to maybe play some college ball and then, if I didn't have what it took to make it to the NFL, tried my big hands at pro wrestling.
Ladies and gentlemen ... in this corner, from parts unknown, standing 6'6" tall and 300 pounds ... The DZER!!!!!
(cue boos)
Financial bullshit and other meanderings
So I'm stupid. At no point after my bankruptcy several years ago did I bother to check my credit report.
Big mistake. Huge. Gigantic.
Two credit reporting agencies have everything right.
One doesn't -- the one primarily used by most financial institutions in Guam.
So it's not the fact that I have a bankruptcy that's been keeping me from getting loans, no matter how small the amount. It's not my relatively recent financial activity -- I have been making all payments on time, doing bills as I should.
Nope.
Turns out the big issue is the aforementioned credit reporting agency still had two accounts closed off by my bankruptcy listed as open. And overdue. And unpaid. For years. One of the, a $15,000-plus old loan.
Ouch.
So now I'm disputing it and trying to get it fixed. The catch -- the credit reporting agency will take its sweet time to research and, hopefully, rectify the situation. Up to 45 days.
Which means I'm screwed till then, even though I just need about a grand to get my new home comp and get straight with all kinds of stuff.
At least for the next 6-7 weeks.
Caveat bankruptor, I suppose.
Big mistake. Huge. Gigantic.
Two credit reporting agencies have everything right.
One doesn't -- the one primarily used by most financial institutions in Guam.
So it's not the fact that I have a bankruptcy that's been keeping me from getting loans, no matter how small the amount. It's not my relatively recent financial activity -- I have been making all payments on time, doing bills as I should.
Nope.
Turns out the big issue is the aforementioned credit reporting agency still had two accounts closed off by my bankruptcy listed as open. And overdue. And unpaid. For years. One of the, a $15,000-plus old loan.
Ouch.
So now I'm disputing it and trying to get it fixed. The catch -- the credit reporting agency will take its sweet time to research and, hopefully, rectify the situation. Up to 45 days.
Which means I'm screwed till then, even though I just need about a grand to get my new home comp and get straight with all kinds of stuff.
At least for the next 6-7 weeks.
Caveat bankruptor, I suppose.
Oh yeah. The DZER is back.
What happens when a "World of Warcraft" addict can't play the game he loves?
Facebook can only consume so much time, even when it comes to playing poker.
And thus ... the blog is back, baby.
Stay tuned for more ... for any of you who are still out there, that is.
Facebook can only consume so much time, even when it comes to playing poker.
And thus ... the blog is back, baby.
Stay tuned for more ... for any of you who are still out there, that is.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
octoberishness ...
... remember how much you used to look forward to halloween, like when you were a kid? as soon as October hit, it's pretty much all I could think about when I was a child. you got to dress up and get a shitload of candy. i guess it was a bigger deal way back then, when there were only like, I dunno, 15 types of candy? now there are bazillions. also, candy was a rare treat in the george household when i was growing up.
i loved getting root beer barrels. and bottle caps. and smarties. and the real, normal-sized candybars (those were SO rare). hershey's minis were a winner too.
tootsie rolls weren't too bad either.
wasn't a big fan of peppermint candy or butterscotch hard candies, though i'd eat 'em. just not a big hard-candy fan, with the exception of the root beer barrels because ... well, hell — they were ROOT BEER!
didn't like the lifesavers too much either, or the lifesaver lollipops, or any kind of lollipop, really.
i never got, and still don't get, the gum in the lollipop ones. you lick/suck/crunch away the hard candy to get to the gum, but there were always shards of the hard lollipop left over. bleah!
i remember scoring when my siblings got the hershey's special dark, cuz they didn't like it. same way i scored on Easter — i was the only one who liked black jellybeans until the savage came along. but he ate pretty much anything — warm sodas, mustard straight from the bottle, cold soup from the can, etc.
my mom made most of our costumes way back when. we would jealously watch the other kids in their full store-bought costumes while we were in homemade funky costumes ... like the masked hobo i was one year ... plaid pants, ugly shirt, cape and robber "mask." though looking back now, it wasn't so bad .. until you see the picture. I have it somewhere. no, i'm not looking for it.
halloween as partying young man was cool too. lotsa drinking. better, more fun costumes. chicks dressing up as sluts because it was the only time they could.
winning a costume contest dressed up like a Domme biker in a strip club ... only it was just what i chose to wear that night and not a planned costume ... heh.
trick or treat, bitches
i loved getting root beer barrels. and bottle caps. and smarties. and the real, normal-sized candybars (those were SO rare). hershey's minis were a winner too.
tootsie rolls weren't too bad either.
wasn't a big fan of peppermint candy or butterscotch hard candies, though i'd eat 'em. just not a big hard-candy fan, with the exception of the root beer barrels because ... well, hell — they were ROOT BEER!
didn't like the lifesavers too much either, or the lifesaver lollipops, or any kind of lollipop, really.
i never got, and still don't get, the gum in the lollipop ones. you lick/suck/crunch away the hard candy to get to the gum, but there were always shards of the hard lollipop left over. bleah!
i remember scoring when my siblings got the hershey's special dark, cuz they didn't like it. same way i scored on Easter — i was the only one who liked black jellybeans until the savage came along. but he ate pretty much anything — warm sodas, mustard straight from the bottle, cold soup from the can, etc.
my mom made most of our costumes way back when. we would jealously watch the other kids in their full store-bought costumes while we were in homemade funky costumes ... like the masked hobo i was one year ... plaid pants, ugly shirt, cape and robber "mask." though looking back now, it wasn't so bad .. until you see the picture. I have it somewhere. no, i'm not looking for it.
halloween as partying young man was cool too. lotsa drinking. better, more fun costumes. chicks dressing up as sluts because it was the only time they could.
winning a costume contest dressed up like a Domme biker in a strip club ... only it was just what i chose to wear that night and not a planned costume ... heh.
trick or treat, bitches
Monday, October 06, 2008
stream of conciousness ...
... there really needs to be an IQ test for people who enter the drive-through at fast food restaurants. I sat behind someone tonight who spent 6 minutes ordering ... and when she got to the payment window, made not one additional purchase, but two. and the fucking idiot cashier let her.
... I hate companies that take action on a late Friday afternoon/night, just late enough so nothing can be done ... and then giving you the whole weekend to be frustrated about them being closed so they can't address the issue until Monday.
... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!
... I hate companies that take action on a late Friday afternoon/night, just late enough so nothing can be done ... and then giving you the whole weekend to be frustrated about them being closed so they can't address the issue until Monday.
... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!
Saturday, October 04, 2008
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