Too much spare time, or not enough?

So here is a collection of random notes and things I've been collecting for no good reason the last few weeks. There are a bazillion more (rounding up).

Tah Dah!



 

It's like watching a shark fight a bear. You have no idea how or why or what's going on but you sure want to see what happens.

Why is it that a random sexual partner for a dude is referred to as a "notch in his belt"? When I have to mess around with belt notches it means my pants might be falling down. Is that it? Random sex does have a lot to do with having your pants fall down, but it might be safer to count how many time you've had to get your junk checked out after you hook up with someone you don't know. That's harder to brag about in a conversation though.

Why does my damn ipod even give me a low battery warning when it's not a real warning. it's more just an announcement that it is 2 seconds away from turning itself off and the rest of the bus ride to work will be in silence with a side of screw you. It should warn me before I leave the goddamn house. Well that, or I should just not forget to plug it in.

Why does referring to something as "going pear shaped " mean something bad?  I'm not a huge fan of pears but I feel like in most settings a pear is usually not a negative thing. Just because the majority of my experiences have been negative doesn't mean everyone else should hate them as much as I do. Fuck pears. But still I wonder.

Music playlists called "playlist" piss me off. I'm pretty sure this violates an internal treaty I have with myself. This should not bug me but it does so much. I should probably go change that playlist name on my itunes now.

The fire station downtown has a sign that says "fire defence is self defense". But if the best defense is a good offence then how do you fight fire? With fire. So since it's time to fight fire with fire I'm going to go play with matches and bug spray to practice self defense. Don't worry, this makes no sense to me either, just roll with it.

Do robots love pizza? Do they even love? If I was a robot in disguise could I still be able to love pizza? Battlestar Galactica is making me aware of a whole host of problems that don't exist but are fun to think about.

I swear I'm not crazy, just don't ask me to prove it.

That's me. Fun times at James and Lisa's birthday party. No fires this year, but lots of new metal bands to listen to! Pretty sure it evens out there.

Sam

You know you're a redneck when....

Christmas was fun.

New Years was drama filled.

However, neither event was the highlight of the holidays, that award goes to the complete meltdown of the neighbours across the street. It was a sight to behold. And behear? I guess I'm making up words again today.

But first I need to give you some background. Just so you guys can appreciate this as much as I did. Also I'm probably a bad person for finding all this so entertaining, but that's okay, since I came to peace with that a long time ago.

Oh and I should probably tell you I used to be a big fan of Jerry Springer and Maury Povitch. If you don't know who/what those people/t.v. shows are you should google that shit. Also, my bedroom window faces the street. It's an important part of the story. Ish.

Sometime during this last summer the house directly across the street from us got the nickname "the crack house". I don't know who named it that, or why, but it definitely stuck. Then it got weird. And creepily real. The variety of cars that would pull up late at 1 or 2 in the morning just long enough for somebody to run in and out of the house. The odd older gentleman with the ponytail and the glazed over eyes riding his longboard up and down the street. That one afternoon I fell asleep with a book on the recliner out front and woke up to find 3 people standing in their driveway staring at me. That guy who spent the entire summer working on his truck blaring new Metallica (new Metallica sucks) asking me if the cops kept an eye on the neighbourhood.

Kinda weird right? But whatever. We'd crack the odd joke about them but nothing ever really happened.

Now, fast forward to a few days ago.

(See what I did there? Normally you can't fast forward to the past, but today we're playing with the rules of time and space motherfucker. This has nothing to do with the fact that I watched a couple Star Trek movies this week. NOTHING!)

So last week I left my bedroom window open a bit, like I usually do. This let me hear all the screaming that started at about 8am. It was loud. I thought it was coming from downstairs for some reason, even though I've been mostly by myself in the house during the holidays. Not to mention, my housemates aren't much for screaming in the living room first thing in the morning...sober...on a weekday.

Groggy, but curious as hell, I go downstairs. Nobody's there but I can still hear the yelling. Color me confused. Now it sounds like it's coming from outside. I peek out the living room window and oh what a sight awaited me.

Full on redneck white trash appeared before me in all it's skuzzy glory. A creepily skinny brunette wearing a too-small pink bathrobe and slippers holding a cigarette in one shaking hand, is yelling at this dude with baggy pants, a wife-beater (The t-shirt, not like a stick or something) and a bandanna wrapped around his neck.

The girl is on the left, the guy is on the right and in the middle is some garbage.

Naturally I ran upstairs where I could hear better and pulled the blind on my window up just enough that I could watch the show.

Pink bathrobe is screaming DAVID! DAVID! DAVID!

"David" is walking up the street.

Pink bathrobe is all "GODDAMN IT COME BACK HERE AND TALK TO ME!"

"David" keep walking up the street.

Pink bathrobe keeps yelling "IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU BASTARD"

"David" turns around and makes a show about lighting a cigarette.

"FINE YOU FUCKING BASTARD BE THAT WAY!"

"David" starts walking away again.

Someone else come sout of the house, get into the car in the driveway.

Pink bathrobe keeps doing what she's good at: "FUCK YOU BOTH" and starts kicking the car as it pulls out the driveway.

The car pulls up beside Dave and he gets in and the car dives off.

Pink bathrobe starts muttering and slams the door of her house as she goes back inside.

Weird thing to wake up to right? Then I fell back on my bed, got back asleep and had a dream where I was married and had a child destined to destroy the world.

That's me. Real life is better than t.v. sometimes. Which is nice considering I don't have cable.

Spammy

I just sound violent

People find the most disgusting things humorous. And by people I mean me. If you didn't know, I have a slightly fucked up sense of humor. Of course, so do you. And by that I mean you should, cause life is easier if fucked up stuff is funny.

Spider-Man thinking about alternate career choices makes me sad.

I know the word "entitled" gets thrown around a lot. Mostly in terms of "these damn kids these days have this perverse sens of entitlement".

People who say this are stupid.

They are stupid because they obviously have never met the masses of bitter, middle-aged people (who have never gone anywhere in their careers) that play politics in the workplace.

Yeah there's a bit of a rant coming up. At least I'm not talking about my real feelings on Spider-Man and gynecology. That shit would blow your mind.

So after only working a few months at my job I have secured a promotion. Yay for Spammy!

Well mostly.

I am catching a huge amount of shit over it for various reasons, mostly the fact that I'm young and have not worked there very long. I kinda got chosen over people who worked for this company for years and years. Every other person who got the same promotion have all worked there for at least 3 years... I've been there less than 6 months.

I did the same interviews and applications as everyone else, and I got chosen. A lot of people didn't. Some people didn't even get interviewed. I hate catching shit for being new at this, I went through the same process as everyone else. Screw off. It sucks you didn't get picked, but maybe even though you've worked here for 10 years, the fact that you're a giant fuck-up had some sort of bearing on you missing out. I don't want to hear about how you've "paid your dues" and "deserve something better".

Funny enough though, this isn't the worst I've ever seen it. You probably won't believe this, but the worst I've ever seen of bitter screw-ups playing politics was while working at a grocery store.

Yeah. Cause at said grocery store they were a bunch of UNIONIZED bitter screw-ups. Merit? What's that? You're good at your job and want a raise? A promotion? Too fucking bad. The crazy bitch who cuts meat like she's attacking her deadbeat husband gets the new Manager position cause she's been in the union longer. She takes 4 half-hour smoke breaks? Boo fucking hoo, she was working here before you were born. It'll only takes about 5 years or so for her to run a department straight into the fucking ground, losing thousands of dollars and alienating not only her entire staff, but almost everybody who come in contact with her, before management can do something about it.

And move her into a different store.

In the same company.


I shit you not.

That is why when I get a monkey gun these people are in serious trouble.That's right. M-O-N-K-E-Y gun. Not a gun that shoots monkeys. A gun that turns people into monkeys. That I shall probably hunt for sport.I am going to monkeyize the shit out of a lot of people, mostly ex co-workers. Monkify? Monkeyer?

Dammit, if I knew I was going to be making up verbs I would have gotten more sleep last night.

Anywho that's me. At least I'm not planning violence. Only monkeyfication. That's better? Right?

Spammy