Oh, lord... I swear, my mind is about as reliable as a $2.00 retreaded tire. I must have Oldtimer's Disease.
So, I get up this morning, bright and early, coffee myself into awareness and get ready to start my day. I have an appointment, don't you know. Yes, at 8 o'clock I have to go put some new tires on the car. I've got clothes laid out. My wallet and keys are ready and waiting on the kitchen counter. I was prepared. OK, I'm anal but I'm likeable.
Seasquirt is watching me. Pondering what I am doing. In amusement. He's already figured out what I'm doing and is just sitting back and seeing how far I take it until he gets the pleasure of bitch slapping my brain into reality. Finally, yes finally, he looks at me and asks "What the fuck are you doing???". I respond, "tires on the car". He cocks his head and gives me the Seasquirt "look" over the top of his glasses. Then he giggles. I hate that. For no other reason than that I know I'm about to be told I'm doing something really bloody stupid. And that I'm probably doing it with shoulders back and head held high. And all without the good sense god gave a toothpick...
Then he tells me "Honey, it's Tuesday.". ??? Huh??? Wha'??? Yeah, I'm only a day early in my quest for new designer tires. Which would be Wednesday. As in tomorrow. Where the bloody hell did Monday go??? I mean, come on, it was yesterday. I was there!!! I even remember it. I just don't remember it as being YESTERDAY!!! We got a new cell phone. We had lunch at Culver's with Andy. I pestered the shit out of Nancy at AMS by asking "cuanto es esto" about everything I could put my hands on. Hell, I even drove on the beltline and you know how much I hate that thing. I even remember stealing a brand new bottle of Cholula Sauce off of the table at Culver's. (YES, they have that there now!!! I'm in heaven!!!) Yes, I remember yesterday. Yes, I remember Monday. I just don't remember it as being yesterday. Or Monday. And I was there. Saint's on a stick, it was less than 24 hours ago. Oh just fuck me, I have the short term memory of a freaking goldfish. Hey, look! I've got a plant... Hey, look! I've got a plant... Hey, look...
I'm starting to feel like Julie Christie's character in "Leaving Her". I'm about half a nonosecond away from starting to put pots and pans in the freezer and tossing the gum out and chewing the wrapper. Hell, I already carry on conversations with myself when I'm in the kitchen. Truly scary part of that is, I'm usually doing it in several different voices... What's next, I start naming the refrigerator magnets??? The silverware??? OK, I will admit that I already have a "special" fork that I call Marco. Don't ask...
Seasquirt, fasten your seat belt, it's gonna be a bumpy ride...
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
gOD, I DO LOVE ME SOME FLASH DRIVE!!!
So, as you all know, I ride on the short bus when it comes to anything even remotely technologically advanced. Yes, my cellphone actually has rotary dial on it. I pretty much reached my technological plateau when we had things called cordless phones with big retractable whip antenna things on them. Those things were damned near the size of CB antennas. And that was in the house!!!
I'm a diehard Apple guy. Now I'm on a PC with Windows Fuckyouverymuch 2.0 Vista.... Do I need to say anymore??? But, the computer was a much needed gift from a dear friend when I was in dire straights and I thank her dearly. Butmygod, Windows. What a clusterfuck!!!
So, guess who has managed to eat up more than 70 percent of the available hard drive downloading porn on this computer in less than two weeks??? Ooops, my bad. But I make no excuses.
What can I say, I love prawns. No, wait. That should have been "I love porn." There. I've said it!!! No surprise, huh???
So, my poor computer is up to its nipples in peters (sigh...) and I was at at a loss. FMTFTYFF!!! And then precious little SeaSquirt came to my rescue and started offering me these things called flash drives. I was a bit apprehensive....
Well, an hour later and damned near 11 gigs of new memory at my disposal I am a happy camper. I am a man of acreage (not really). I had NO idea what those little puppies were capable of. OMg!!! I AM IN FUCKING HEAVEN!!!
How the hell can something half the size of a stick of gum actually manage to hold dozens of gigs of naked men doing the kind of things I like to watch??? Technology.... ahh, I'm baffled. But thankful.
I'm a diehard Apple guy. Now I'm on a PC with Windows Fuckyouverymuch 2.0 Vista.... Do I need to say anymore??? But, the computer was a much needed gift from a dear friend when I was in dire straights and I thank her dearly. Butmygod, Windows. What a clusterfuck!!!
So, guess who has managed to eat up more than 70 percent of the available hard drive downloading porn on this computer in less than two weeks??? Ooops, my bad. But I make no excuses.
What can I say, I love prawns. No, wait. That should have been "I love porn." There. I've said it!!! No surprise, huh???
So, my poor computer is up to its nipples in peters (sigh...) and I was at at a loss. FMTFTYFF!!! And then precious little SeaSquirt came to my rescue and started offering me these things called flash drives. I was a bit apprehensive....
Well, an hour later and damned near 11 gigs of new memory at my disposal I am a happy camper. I am a man of acreage (not really). I had NO idea what those little puppies were capable of. OMg!!! I AM IN FUCKING HEAVEN!!!
How the hell can something half the size of a stick of gum actually manage to hold dozens of gigs of naked men doing the kind of things I like to watch??? Technology.... ahh, I'm baffled. But thankful.
Monday, February 18, 2013
YOU'RE NEVER TOO OLD TO MAKE A SPECTACLE OF YOURSELF IN PUBLIC.
I will never pass up the opportunity to cause a scene, public or private. Preferably public. Give me the chance to sink my canines into the jugular of socially acceptable behavior and I pounce like a feral cat. Rude, crude, lewd and socially unacceptable is not just a saying to me, it's a freaking motto. A lifestyle if you will. Oh, come on, you know what I'm capable of!!!
Last weekend I was given a glorious opportunity to shine and I went for that bait like a hungry shark. Good friends were throwing another of their wonderful theme parties and this one had my name written ALL over it. They threw a Medieval Banquet based on The Age of Chivalry and said come dressed appropriately. Of course, I did. I dug out one of my old Renaissance Faire costumes from the storage locker and spent two weeks shopping at Hobby Lobby to get all of the accessories that I needed to make it just right. You know, you just can't have enough velvet ribbons and feathers, can you??? Let alone rabbit fur wrapped boots and tights. And an onion (Plague, don't you know) and a large wooden spoon (useful for both eating and disciplining the occasionally unruly Pope or surly peasant). Let me tell you, that spoon came in REALLY handy since I was seated at the head table next to a rather annoying Pope. I hope he still has a couple of welts on his miter.
Anyway, half way through this fiasco we were divided up into teams, given a bag of stuff and told to go create our family crests. Luckily, my team was fun. One was dressed as the Evil Queen from Snow White, complete with apple and another one had a purse full of pot. Fifteen minutes later, down in the basement I have somehow managed to damn near permanently adhere myself to a counter with a hot glue gun, sear off a couple of my finger prints and get drunk as hell on homemade mead. Yeah, surprise, huh??? By this time one of my other Renaissance Faire personalities has bubbled to the surface: Dirty Peter, The Rat Peddler. Trust me, he's horrid and needs to be beheaded. Or at the very least whipped into some some sort of silence. Needless to say, the Evil Queen and I joined forces and soon our family crest was laden (overrun???) with rats and bleeding onions. I LOVE that queen!!!
So, back upstairs, in between the smoked salmon and meat course we are suddenly obliged to explain our family crests. Keep in mind, I'm wildly up to my tights in mead at this point and am starting to have out of body experiences. Which, btw, was all the better because the Pope was starting to wear on my nerves. And his miter was starting to look a bit tattered at that point, thanks to my trusty spoon. So, I am urged to hall myself upright. So, there I am, teetering on a chair, flagon of mead in what was left of my fingers and launch into my rant. Lord, I am amazed at how easily I can blow smoke at mirrors out of my ass at a moments notice. Ah, yes, the Noble House of Peter. A fine family, an old line family of rat peddlers. Yes, we introduced rat in a cup, rat on a rope and rat on a stick. For the privileged few with a PayPal account we even offer the availability of the Rat Of The Month Club. Only two pieces of gold a month. With automatic renewable monthly billing. What can I say, we're literally up to our ankles in the little fuckers!!! Yes indeed you can trust the House of Peter! We're all about family. Cause nothing is more fun than a house full of Peters!!! HUZZAH!!! At this point Dirty Peter seizes what is left of my brain and I decide to introduce my family. My lovely wife, Iswalla...Peter. And our charming conjoined triplet daughters, Ineeda, Iwanta and Icrava... Peter. The Pope blanched. And I struck him once more. Ladies in waiting courtsied and counts bowed. I have no idea why. Perhaps because I was finally done and the rambling was over. My family just threw bread at me and wished a pox to descend upon the head of the Noble House of Peter. omg, who the hell wants a Peter with a pox on it???
Then as we sup'd on sweets to clear our palettes we were summoned to sing before her Majesty, Queen Iris. Of course by this point the entire House of Peter is up to their eyeballs in mead and decides to to do some Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons. Do-wop style. We won!!! Thank god for alcohol!!!
Now, the kicker to this cluster is that I was actually named King of the Festival. Lord, talk about a rigged election.!!! But the crown is FAGULOUS!!! But I did get the opportunity to decide next years theme: "Spy vs Spy". Luckily, I'm good with explosives... I wonder if Hobby Lobby has detonator cord???
Last weekend I was given a glorious opportunity to shine and I went for that bait like a hungry shark. Good friends were throwing another of their wonderful theme parties and this one had my name written ALL over it. They threw a Medieval Banquet based on The Age of Chivalry and said come dressed appropriately. Of course, I did. I dug out one of my old Renaissance Faire costumes from the storage locker and spent two weeks shopping at Hobby Lobby to get all of the accessories that I needed to make it just right. You know, you just can't have enough velvet ribbons and feathers, can you??? Let alone rabbit fur wrapped boots and tights. And an onion (Plague, don't you know) and a large wooden spoon (useful for both eating and disciplining the occasionally unruly Pope or surly peasant). Let me tell you, that spoon came in REALLY handy since I was seated at the head table next to a rather annoying Pope. I hope he still has a couple of welts on his miter.
Anyway, half way through this fiasco we were divided up into teams, given a bag of stuff and told to go create our family crests. Luckily, my team was fun. One was dressed as the Evil Queen from Snow White, complete with apple and another one had a purse full of pot. Fifteen minutes later, down in the basement I have somehow managed to damn near permanently adhere myself to a counter with a hot glue gun, sear off a couple of my finger prints and get drunk as hell on homemade mead. Yeah, surprise, huh??? By this time one of my other Renaissance Faire personalities has bubbled to the surface: Dirty Peter, The Rat Peddler. Trust me, he's horrid and needs to be beheaded. Or at the very least whipped into some some sort of silence. Needless to say, the Evil Queen and I joined forces and soon our family crest was laden (overrun???) with rats and bleeding onions. I LOVE that queen!!!
So, back upstairs, in between the smoked salmon and meat course we are suddenly obliged to explain our family crests. Keep in mind, I'm wildly up to my tights in mead at this point and am starting to have out of body experiences. Which, btw, was all the better because the Pope was starting to wear on my nerves. And his miter was starting to look a bit tattered at that point, thanks to my trusty spoon. So, I am urged to hall myself upright. So, there I am, teetering on a chair, flagon of mead in what was left of my fingers and launch into my rant. Lord, I am amazed at how easily I can blow smoke at mirrors out of my ass at a moments notice. Ah, yes, the Noble House of Peter. A fine family, an old line family of rat peddlers. Yes, we introduced rat in a cup, rat on a rope and rat on a stick. For the privileged few with a PayPal account we even offer the availability of the Rat Of The Month Club. Only two pieces of gold a month. With automatic renewable monthly billing. What can I say, we're literally up to our ankles in the little fuckers!!! Yes indeed you can trust the House of Peter! We're all about family. Cause nothing is more fun than a house full of Peters!!! HUZZAH!!! At this point Dirty Peter seizes what is left of my brain and I decide to introduce my family. My lovely wife, Iswalla...Peter. And our charming conjoined triplet daughters, Ineeda, Iwanta and Icrava... Peter. The Pope blanched. And I struck him once more. Ladies in waiting courtsied and counts bowed. I have no idea why. Perhaps because I was finally done and the rambling was over. My family just threw bread at me and wished a pox to descend upon the head of the Noble House of Peter. omg, who the hell wants a Peter with a pox on it???
Then as we sup'd on sweets to clear our palettes we were summoned to sing before her Majesty, Queen Iris. Of course by this point the entire House of Peter is up to their eyeballs in mead and decides to to do some Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons. Do-wop style. We won!!! Thank god for alcohol!!!
Now, the kicker to this cluster is that I was actually named King of the Festival. Lord, talk about a rigged election.!!! But the crown is FAGULOUS!!! But I did get the opportunity to decide next years theme: "Spy vs Spy". Luckily, I'm good with explosives... I wonder if Hobby Lobby has detonator cord???
Monday, February 11, 2013
I AM NOW USING A PC...
Oh lord, just fuck me in a dirt road until I bleed! And not in that good way that I like. A PC???
As you all know, I am a die-hard, dedicated, card carrying MAC person. I love Apple. They're FABULOUS!!! User friendly little things they are. Intuitive. Warm and fuzzy. Cuddly. Bottom line, they just make sense. PC's are scary. And stupid. They make about as much sense a a bowling ball with nipples. Or a wet paper bag full of rocks at a TSA line up. I hate PC's almost (yes, ALMOST) as much as I hate Microsoft!!! How the hell did all of you mindless cattle get sucked into the psychic vampire vacuum of Windows??? Let alone, how did you manage to get convinced it made sense? Or worked anywhere near efficiently? Or that it didn't need more bandaids and "patches" as a runaway trainwreck on the brown acid??? It's a cluster fuck in a blender on puree with too much salt!!!
OK, with that said.... My 11 year old, coal fired MAC laptop finally gave up the ghost. Died. Gone. Just gone. Dropped like a turd from a tall cows ass it did. Much the way Catherine The Second of Russia did in 1796. Right to the ground, totally off the radar and right of the throne. Not the Royal Throne, mind you, the one she was peeing on. But I digress....
So, here I set, in front of my "new" PC. A very gracious gift from a dear friend who shall remain nameless (Nancy Garcia) who was in the process of updating here system. It's a tower, I've never owned one of those before. I had now idea where to put it. It's got an enormous flat screen that's huge. I went to Staples and with the help of a fiendeshly friendly computer gamer geek actually managed to upgrade myself to a cordless keyboard and mouse. I also told him that I was looking for typewrighter ribbons. His eyes glazed over and he damn near fainted. When I asked him if there were any keyboards with a rotary dial he ran like the Siege of Leon was coming...
Now, back to my rant. Bill Gates should be hung out to dry!!! Microsoft should be outlawed by The Hague!!! This is the single most back-asswards operating system I have ever worked on in my life!!! It's draconian!!! It's hateful!!! It's stupid!!! It's convoluted!!! It's a CLUSTERFUCK!!! jesus christ!!! Everything on Microsoft is totally reversed from Mac. I have cancelled damn near everything I have attempted to do or download (porn) and lost just about everything else I have tried to save.
And what the hell is up with this left/right two click mouse thing??? DUH!!! Wuh?!? What the fuck were you thinking??? (OK, I give you credit for the roller ball thing, I'm getting used to that) But, dude, could you have possibly made a mouse more complicated??? It's a mouse, not rocket science.
Why is fucking everything on Microsoft hidden??? Where does it mysteriously go when you accidently close it? Why are there no drop down menus? GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING PORN YOU ROTTEN BITCH!!!
I am slowly going full blown bat shit crazy with this new computer. It vexes me. It disturbs me. It makes me want to grab a handgun and run to the nearest liquor store and just run totally nuts.
Beware, I'm back...
As you all know, I am a die-hard, dedicated, card carrying MAC person. I love Apple. They're FABULOUS!!! User friendly little things they are. Intuitive. Warm and fuzzy. Cuddly. Bottom line, they just make sense. PC's are scary. And stupid. They make about as much sense a a bowling ball with nipples. Or a wet paper bag full of rocks at a TSA line up. I hate PC's almost (yes, ALMOST) as much as I hate Microsoft!!! How the hell did all of you mindless cattle get sucked into the psychic vampire vacuum of Windows??? Let alone, how did you manage to get convinced it made sense? Or worked anywhere near efficiently? Or that it didn't need more bandaids and "patches" as a runaway trainwreck on the brown acid??? It's a cluster fuck in a blender on puree with too much salt!!!
OK, with that said.... My 11 year old, coal fired MAC laptop finally gave up the ghost. Died. Gone. Just gone. Dropped like a turd from a tall cows ass it did. Much the way Catherine The Second of Russia did in 1796. Right to the ground, totally off the radar and right of the throne. Not the Royal Throne, mind you, the one she was peeing on. But I digress....
So, here I set, in front of my "new" PC. A very gracious gift from a dear friend who shall remain nameless (Nancy Garcia) who was in the process of updating here system. It's a tower, I've never owned one of those before. I had now idea where to put it. It's got an enormous flat screen that's huge. I went to Staples and with the help of a fiendeshly friendly computer gamer geek actually managed to upgrade myself to a cordless keyboard and mouse. I also told him that I was looking for typewrighter ribbons. His eyes glazed over and he damn near fainted. When I asked him if there were any keyboards with a rotary dial he ran like the Siege of Leon was coming...
Now, back to my rant. Bill Gates should be hung out to dry!!! Microsoft should be outlawed by The Hague!!! This is the single most back-asswards operating system I have ever worked on in my life!!! It's draconian!!! It's hateful!!! It's stupid!!! It's convoluted!!! It's a CLUSTERFUCK!!! jesus christ!!! Everything on Microsoft is totally reversed from Mac. I have cancelled damn near everything I have attempted to do or download (porn) and lost just about everything else I have tried to save.
And what the hell is up with this left/right two click mouse thing??? DUH!!! Wuh?!? What the fuck were you thinking??? (OK, I give you credit for the roller ball thing, I'm getting used to that) But, dude, could you have possibly made a mouse more complicated??? It's a mouse, not rocket science.
Why is fucking everything on Microsoft hidden??? Where does it mysteriously go when you accidently close it? Why are there no drop down menus? GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING PORN YOU ROTTEN BITCH!!!
I am slowly going full blown bat shit crazy with this new computer. It vexes me. It disturbs me. It makes me want to grab a handgun and run to the nearest liquor store and just run totally nuts.
Beware, I'm back...
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