I will cease neglecting this blog, possibly tomorrow. For now, I am beat as all hell from this weekend. Apparently, a wedding, a caravan, and a resounding victory in "Trivial Pursuit: Pop Culture Edition" will do that.
So, more later. And for those of you involved in last night's Trivia Gauntlet, you are all Jess', Joe's, and my bitches. Word.
Regardless of our victory.
I just love it when Little Steven Van Zandt gets all pepped about meat!
Things have been so damned busy lately. Weekends have become nonexistent. I would understand if I was doing something like making a major move, or starting a new job, anything like that... Alas, that is not the case. Just your everyday, run-of-the-mill, bullshit.
Grr... arrgh.
Work has been crazy. I'm fielding almost a hundred calls a day from blithering morons. I'm swimming in about a dozen of them in my office alone.
And my dog continues to buy things off of eBay.
"Wait... did somebody say eBay?!?!"
I know, I know... I've created a monster. One who has a higher feedback rating than me. Crap.
"Where are all our friends? I'm bored. You suck!"
More to follow. Maybe.
I realize that what my people call "lecheflan" is decidedly different from the flan that is commonly sold. I think that the "dulce de leche flan" I saw in a ridiculous tub at the local Publix might be close, but I have yet to dole out the Abe to try it. Alas, in an effort to stave off my recent lecheflan cravings, Perla bought some flan in little single-serving cups.
What a bunch of shit. It's not flan. I'm not even sure it's passing for edible. Hence, my need for something really rich and really sweet has not been met.
In keeping with my feelings of oooh from yesterday, I must post the following:
I'm not sure if I agree with the choice of lip shade here, but what the hell, the girl was hot even when she was with the BenBun in the oven. We'll have to give this one a pass. Dammit.
Oh, Alias, how I've missed you so. Thank the stars you've come back to me, even though you're ending and I'm probably going to fall back into that emotional K-Hole that formed when Buffy ended.
I was going to write more, but hell, I'm still getting over Scruffy Vaughn. Hooray! In lieu of a picture of that oh-so-rugged facial hair, I will instead present you with this:
Seriously, you know why? Because school is hot.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go book my ticket to Bhutan. Peace out!
I must say, from the right sources, that shit can be very important. Never mind that you have already heard five million people agree with your point of view... when that one person who NEVER has an opinion to share finally does, and just so happens to be on point with whatever the hell is running through your own addlepated mind?
Well, that's just fucking gorgeous. I mean, like Peanut gorgeous. (By the way, where the hell are you, Peanut?!)
So, yeah: Hooray for self-righteousness! And validation, parking and otherwise.
The above is courtesy of Danhole, from just a few moments ago. He gave me permission to use it in the blog, so long as I didn't describe the context.
I take it as a sign that tonight is going to be funny as shit. Perhaps I'll be back here, post-Cho.
"Because you suck!"
I saw that on a t-shirt the other day. Cracked my shit up. Almost got it, but then remembered I had a powerful need to eat for the next month or so.
The phones are slightly quieter this afternoon. I'm guessing all of the morons that aggravate me normally have decided that the celebration of the death and resurrection of our Lord and Savior was a good excuse to take a day off from work.
Which works out, I guess, since it makes for a more peaceful afternoon for me.
This should make for a festive Easter weekend. First, I will spend a gross amount of time doing some spring cleaning, then reward myself by going to see Margaret Cho (!) at the Improv on Saturday night with Danhole and assorted other hooligans. Then, the Sunday Easter celebration will ensue with the fam. No doubt at some point I will continue to attempt to put miniaturized rips of movies on SD cards to play on the new-slash-used phone o'magic!
Yes, I am a simple creature. And I am quite okay with that right now.
I seriously think that I am losing it. I have been on this phone all day with utter morons, perched in my seat with one hand hovering over the mute button, and the other flipping off the monitor in lieu of not having the morons right in front of my face.
I have spent the precious few moments between calls trying to type away on this little keyboard, hoping in vain that the typing will make the pain stop. But it doesn't.
A few moments ago, I went to pick up the phone, and picked up my Swingline, instead (thankfully, it was not my cherished RED one, as I would not in my right mind bring it to this hovel). I briefly thought that if I stapled my ear and started bleeding profusely all over my correspondence, these heartless hinds might send me home. Alas, no... they'd probably just give me a bucket to collect the drops. Bastards.
The only thing that has given me any joy today is the fab Armsweat comment on my "salad" post ("Classic!" raves Roger Ebert... what?), and the fact that my boobs look awesome in this shirt.
Rah rah! for shallow crap! I need to get the hell out of here!
Sorry about that. I had a salad for dinner today, and all I could think of was Jay trying to figure out what Silent Bob was telling him ("You have to take a shit? You have to take a salad?"). I mean, who "takes" a salad, really?
Wait a minute; don't answer that.
The above, of course, is courtesy of The Gainesville Sun.
The last time I was this jazzed was, well, during a certain national championship game ten years ago!
Thanks, Gators, for one of the most fun seasons and Final Fours to watch! You certainly earned this!
I'm knackered... going to bed!
Why, that would be "My Humps," of course!
Especially since that goofy son-of-a-gun killed them with the threes last night. You know, Lee, at this point, I'm temporarily going to let the Peyton Manning idolatry from your childhood go because of your clutch play.
Keep delivering tomorrow night (along with the rest of the boys, of course), and I may be willing to overlook it altogether!
Good luck, boys. We're all rooting for you. Bring that trophy home! Go Gators!
