Yesterday was a day of three firsts.
1.) I finally got satellite television.
2.) I swore at my boss.
3.) I took out Bambi with my Truck of Doom.
All good things come in threes, eh? Meh.
Concerning thing the first, I daresay things have come a long way since last I've had tv of such a glorious variety. For example...
When was the ingenious idea of pausing, and indeed, even rewinding live tv introduced??
Though still, I find it terribly funny that with the 900 some channels we have (The Bastardly Parental Units decided to go for what I like to call the Supreme Couch Potato package), there are still moments when you utterly cannot find a thing to watch.
On thing the second, I had gone to work already miffed about having to work store security the day before (aka Important Looking Greeter Person), only to find out I had to do it again that night, and then now tomorrow for TEN. FUCKING. HOURS.
Needless to say I flew a little bit off the apathetic handle.
Heheh....
Have I mentioned how much I loathe "greeting" people with all of my entire being?
Anyway.
And finally, onto matter the third. Indeed, I was driving home after night of said boss yelling when from amidst the bushes came a fairly large deer, not five feet from my bumper.
Lemme tell you, the best brakes in the world wouldn't have saved that thing.
What I think is a true testament to the power of my Truck of Doom, had I not actually physically seen the thing in front of my truck, I scarcely would have been able to tell I hit anything at all. A little blood on my lisence plate was the only proof that anything had met it's end because of my driving.
The only terribly disgusting thing, (though morbidly amusing, I suppose) is that it's head must've gone under one of my tires, because when I went back to drag it off the road...
....most of it's skull was missing.
Score one for gruesome roadkills.
Whoops.
Never underestimate the power of the spiked boot..
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
I'm sick.
Welcome to my existence for the last two weeks or so.
This is what happens when things go to well. You are abruptly forced to remember that indeed, life sucks. Turn a blind eye on such an obvious fact for a brief moment and you'll be granted a nice little reminder.
Pessimism. It's a glorious thing.
Nothing much actually going on. Things tread on, ever duller, day by day. Still, I am profoundly compelled to fill my little section of cyberspace telling the deaf world all about it. Because I can.
There is one thing, though, I suppose that is worth note.
I've gotten yet another guitar.
This makes what, three? Indeed.
The one in question on this particular ocassion is a Washburn electric/acoustic. (Nothing terribly impressive, but it's mine. Fuck off, those who would mock my musical glory.) That's what I get for "browsing" around the store before I take my lessons (at said store, of course.)
Meh.
Oh. And the English version of Final Fantasy: Advent Children comes out tomorrow.
It. Will. Be. Mine.
Then, the world can bear witness as my wallet bursts into flames, never to be seen again.
I'm doomed.
But then, wasn't I always?
Welcome to my existence for the last two weeks or so.
This is what happens when things go to well. You are abruptly forced to remember that indeed, life sucks. Turn a blind eye on such an obvious fact for a brief moment and you'll be granted a nice little reminder.
Pessimism. It's a glorious thing.
Nothing much actually going on. Things tread on, ever duller, day by day. Still, I am profoundly compelled to fill my little section of cyberspace telling the deaf world all about it. Because I can.
There is one thing, though, I suppose that is worth note.
I've gotten yet another guitar.
This makes what, three? Indeed.
The one in question on this particular ocassion is a Washburn electric/acoustic. (Nothing terribly impressive, but it's mine. Fuck off, those who would mock my musical glory.) That's what I get for "browsing" around the store before I take my lessons (at said store, of course.)
Meh.
Oh. And the English version of Final Fantasy: Advent Children comes out tomorrow.
It. Will. Be. Mine.
Then, the world can bear witness as my wallet bursts into flames, never to be seen again.
I'm doomed.
But then, wasn't I always?
Are You Deaf Yet?
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
It's been awhile, hasn't it?
It has.
Back to listening to the broken record known as "My Internet kicked out again because the She-Beast didn't pay the bill for three months and neglected to tell me."
So here I am, over a month older, wiser......and fucking tired.
That's what I get for staying up until the wee hours of the morning, and then getting up at a semi-normal time. I daresay though, it was entirely worth it. Oh yes, indeed it was. You see, I ventured forth from my cave into a world unlike no other. Where (even still a self made outcast) the loud, the violent, and the utterly badass reign supreme.
Concerts are a glorious thing.
Yes, I managed to pull in my personal space bubble a few feet and cram my black clad self in amongst the non-moshing masses. That feat alone is probably worth a Polaroid. But anyway.
"Who was it"?, you may be asking. Or not. Meh.
Lacuna Coil and Rob Zombie.
The former being one of my favorite bands (whom I ended up meeting, and becoming the proud owner of an autographed poster) , and the latter, providing that big name, big show spectacle that everyone paid the fourty-some bucks to see.
Was it worth all the social claustrophobia and hours worth of ringing ears?
Yes.
But I don't want to see another person for a long, long time.
It has.
Back to listening to the broken record known as "My Internet kicked out again because the She-Beast didn't pay the bill for three months and neglected to tell me."
So here I am, over a month older, wiser......and fucking tired.
That's what I get for staying up until the wee hours of the morning, and then getting up at a semi-normal time. I daresay though, it was entirely worth it. Oh yes, indeed it was. You see, I ventured forth from my cave into a world unlike no other. Where (even still a self made outcast) the loud, the violent, and the utterly badass reign supreme.
Concerts are a glorious thing.
Yes, I managed to pull in my personal space bubble a few feet and cram my black clad self in amongst the non-moshing masses. That feat alone is probably worth a Polaroid. But anyway.
"Who was it"?, you may be asking. Or not. Meh.
Lacuna Coil and Rob Zombie.
The former being one of my favorite bands (whom I ended up meeting, and becoming the proud owner of an autographed poster) , and the latter, providing that big name, big show spectacle that everyone paid the fourty-some bucks to see.
Was it worth all the social claustrophobia and hours worth of ringing ears?
Yes.
But I don't want to see another person for a long, long time.
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