My typical Friday evenings, for probably the last 8 years or so (I like routine) has been dinner out with the fam. Because I don't see them enough or anything. And I'm guaranteed one day a week to see Hitlter and Ava's dynamic duo...getting a boo and baby fix. Some Friday's things change- I might have different plans, Hitler or the parentals might be up to something. This Friday I was going to dine out with Hitler and Ava and the boys, and the parents were to go out with Bobo, his little wifey, their little babykins, and wifey's parents who are visiting from Idaho.
I get to mom's house at my usual time, to drop off Fatty (because he doesn't stay home alone, and goes where ever I go, it's a mess, I know, but I embrace). I head out to go to Hitler's. In the driveway, my phone rings. It's mom. "Did you take the stuff off the table to take to Hitler's?" Which I didn't because I didn't know I needed to. Go in and get a 4-pack of juice for the baby. Obviously this is very important juice. I grab, I get in the car, and I back out of the driveway.
CRUNCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Pull back into the driveway. The kid across the street...he and I backed into each other. Fucking fabulous. I text Hitler there might be a delay. I walk up to the kid, I see a on the bumper, driver side, a decent dent. I ask if he's okay and what not, and point to the dent. He said no- that I hit him on the other side. He's got a black car- and I see all white paint on the side of his bumper. He said he wants to get his mom. I said fine. I call my dad to get in the front, with a run down of what just occurred. Kid's mom looks at the car, starts touching the white painted bumper, and the paint is just wiping off. I go to look at my car... the bumper has a giant black hickey and my tail light is busted. YAY! So kid's mom decides to call hubby. She comes back and says hubby just wants to exchange info, in case a claim needs to be filed, and he's a lawyer. Dad looks at me..."L, call the cops". So I ring, give the low down again. Meanwhile my phone is going bonkers with texts from Hitler and Bobo... asking what's going on and what not. Blah, blah, blah...
The cop comes about 30min later. Nice and timely. Pro- he's cute. After taking our info, he says basically- damages are $100-200 on each car, a police report isn't really needed, because there's no real damage and no injuries...however if we want one, he'll file one, if we want to handle this on our own that's fine too. Meanwhile the kid's lawyer dad comes home. He said he's fine without filing a report, exchanging information, in case a claim needs to be filed, then the info's had. To which my dad said that he wants an official report if there's talk of claim filing in the future. I'm staying quiet, lawyer dad is irking me...Then the LD said that he hasn't had a chance to test drive the car for internal damages and doesn't want to say that there won't be a claim, because we can't see what's going on under the bumper...and that my damage is just cosmetic.
Cosmetic??? My fucking tail light is busted and I have a giant black scratch... The kid wiped off all the white paint and you can't even tell he was bumped. Fuck you dude....But I'm taking the silent approach and keeping the lips sealed, because with that comment, I was ready to flip, and in turn, make things much worse.
Meanwhile, while all this is going on..all I could think about was "If I hadn't gone back for that fucking juice that's been sitting on the table for a week that mom couldn't take to Hitler's herself, because driving a mile was too much out of the way...none of this would have happened".
So we file a police report...mom and dad leave for their dinner with the golden boy bobo. Hitler's texting..."what's going on" "you coming up here" " you want food" "you want us to bring you back something"... Police report-no-no-no. Dad calls less then 5min after he leaves..."what's going on". I inform I'm filling out the change of information form-he flips. Tells me not to give any info, blah, blah , blah. I try to calmly explain that this is needed for the official police report, blah, blah, blah. Report completed- kid drives off to where ever he's little 19yr old self has to go, I go back into mom's house. I'm too irked and pissed to eat.
Around 830, mom and dad walk in. Mom looks at the table "You didn't take the juice to Hitler????"
FUCK THE GODDAMN JUICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING JUICE I GOT INTO THE FUCKING ACCIDENT!!!!!!!!!!!
Calmly I say no- didn't go anywhere, irked, blah, blah, blah. Mom replies with a disappointed "Oh" followed by "let's watch buffy!!!" Turn on Buffy and catch the last 30min of the episode. And I go home.
Today I go to mom's to drop of Fatty, again. Boo and I have a "boo date" to see Gnomeo and Juliet. Plus Sunday's I'm at mom's anyways. What's sitting on the table still?? The fucking juice. Yesterday Dad went to watch Boo's 3 yr old baseball practice...did he take the juice with him?? Noooooo.....but this juice was soooo important Friday night, that I had to come back for it. Apparently it's not so important that Dad needed to bring it with him to the park. When I leave to go to Hitler's to get my stud for the date...I grab the goddamned fucking juice. Just the site kinda pisses me off. I bring it to Hitler's. I drop it on the counter "here's the fucking juice that ruined my Friday night"....
Fucking juice.
Rock out, juicy.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Self torture, it's really the best kind.
Remember many moons ago, when I actually used to frequent this space and tell odd quirky little stories?? Yeah, me too. Remember me telling you about my love of Zombies?? Well, I did something stupid last night. I'll let you guess what it involves.......
Before I get to the real story at hand, let me digress with a little back story...
I've discovered a while back, a new author. She's self published her books on Amazon for kindle. And we all know how much I love the kindle. It started last August when I plowed through her My Blood Approves Series. Hello...it's about Vampires. I love vampires. (DUH!) She had another series about trolls, and I was on the fence about reading it. I mean, it's trolls...who wants to read about trolls?? I downloaded a sample and discovered, apparently, that I wanted to read about trolls. I read the first 2 books rapidly just before Christmas. Then I had to wait for the third book. I stalked goodreads.com and Amazon..waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Then two weeks ago, the third book was available. I read it... in one sitting. I needed to know what happened and how things ended. I mean, I love me some trolls. Out of her 8 published books and 1 novella- I've read everything. Everything but 1 book. Hollowland.
And this brings us to the tale of torture....
My list of big bad fears, that I have minimal tolerance for, in no particular order: Clowns, Aliens, Zombies, Apocolyptic doom/end of the world topics.
What is Hollowland about?? The end of the world- a rampant spreading virus creating zombie-esque people. Fucking zombies. Two of my 'big bads' in one book. But I like the author, and I really like what I've read so far. I figured, for 99cents, I'll get Hollowland and polish off the rest of her written work. I mean, everything else has been really good, and I really like her, and it couldn't be that bad could it?? The answer. Yes. Yes it could.
Tuesday night, I cozy up on the couch and start reading Hollowland. And the zombies start in right away. Joy. But I push through...How many zombie attacks can the book have?? Not too many right?? Hahahaha...foolish me...I was wrong. About a third of the way into the book, and numerous attacks later, I'm feeling nauseous. I'm nervous, twitchy, and envisioning the end of the world for myself, my home being broken into by zombies wanting to kill me. My imagination goes into overdrive. I contemplate quitting the book. I don't think I can take much more zombie action.
Luckily, Ms M calls me, and I have a chat, and a short break from the book. As we chatted, I clould feel myself calming down.
After the call- what do I do?? I start reading again. Quickly the panic and fear is back. I decided, I'm just going to keep pushing through. I just need a little bit of a happy ending, let the goal of the main character be acheived. Well, the happy ending doesn't really come until three quarters of the way through the book. And by that point in time-the zombie business has stopped (characters are in a quarrantine/safetey zone), so I do what any rational person does- I finish the book. Hoping and praying that in the last quarter of the book there isn't a big zombie attack, and because I don't know if I can handle a second day of reading.
While I relocated from the couch to the bed, to finish the book...I start to hear something that's not in my bedroom. Do I research the sound or assume it's my imagination going crazy again? What doesn't help is that I have my humidifier going (thanks to germy colds), so there's a constant source of white noise. I decide to get out of bed to investigate, with the over active mind thinking about zombies. Luckily it was just the TV that was on...I'm guessing I didn't turn it off, that or it's Poltergeist, but I can't worry about that at the moment. I can only stress about one scare at a time. Zombies or ghosts that possess clowns....it's too much.
So I turn off the TV, go back to bed, around 11/1130 I finish the book and then promptly go to sleep. What a restful night of sleep it was. My dreams where filled with zombies and me trying to escape them. Around 4am I woke up thinking that my alarm was going off, but I was just halucinating. I thought the faint sound of music was maybe my TV again, but there was no TV glow to be seen in the living room. No need for me to get out of bed and risk getting pulled under by a zombie. For a good 30minutes I must have laid there thinking I was hearing music or some inhumane sound coming from various parts of my house or from the outside. I was feeling sick to my stomach again and pissed that I read the damn book.
When I did get up for work, it was awfully dark in the house, with everything closed up. I was moving very cautiously, waiting for a zombie attack. Luckily there was nothing lurking around. I sat at my computer desk, ready to get to work, out of the corner of my eye, out the window, I can see the small palms sway. They scare the bejesus out of me. The whole day, when ever anything moved outside, or people walked by my first thought: HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! ZOMBIES!!!!!!!!! Eventually I calmed down. I mean, I know zombies aren't real, and they aren't going to attack me, and if they are, they sure as hell aren't going to be as moving as fast as something of things I saw move about outside.
The book ended with the possiblity of a sequel. No matter how badly I want to know the real final, final end...I'm not going to read it. I can't handle anymore zombie panic. The mental anguish, feeling like I'm going to throw up at any second. OY!!! Kudos to me for being a moron and thinking it wasn't going to be that bad and I could handle it. Hahahahahaha!!!
Rock out, with your self induced tortured cock out....
Before I get to the real story at hand, let me digress with a little back story...
I've discovered a while back, a new author. She's self published her books on Amazon for kindle. And we all know how much I love the kindle. It started last August when I plowed through her My Blood Approves Series. Hello...it's about Vampires. I love vampires. (DUH!) She had another series about trolls, and I was on the fence about reading it. I mean, it's trolls...who wants to read about trolls?? I downloaded a sample and discovered, apparently, that I wanted to read about trolls. I read the first 2 books rapidly just before Christmas. Then I had to wait for the third book. I stalked goodreads.com and Amazon..waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Then two weeks ago, the third book was available. I read it... in one sitting. I needed to know what happened and how things ended. I mean, I love me some trolls. Out of her 8 published books and 1 novella- I've read everything. Everything but 1 book. Hollowland.
And this brings us to the tale of torture....
My list of big bad fears, that I have minimal tolerance for, in no particular order: Clowns, Aliens, Zombies, Apocolyptic doom/end of the world topics.
What is Hollowland about?? The end of the world- a rampant spreading virus creating zombie-esque people. Fucking zombies. Two of my 'big bads' in one book. But I like the author, and I really like what I've read so far. I figured, for 99cents, I'll get Hollowland and polish off the rest of her written work. I mean, everything else has been really good, and I really like her, and it couldn't be that bad could it?? The answer. Yes. Yes it could.
Tuesday night, I cozy up on the couch and start reading Hollowland. And the zombies start in right away. Joy. But I push through...How many zombie attacks can the book have?? Not too many right?? Hahahaha...foolish me...I was wrong. About a third of the way into the book, and numerous attacks later, I'm feeling nauseous. I'm nervous, twitchy, and envisioning the end of the world for myself, my home being broken into by zombies wanting to kill me. My imagination goes into overdrive. I contemplate quitting the book. I don't think I can take much more zombie action.
Luckily, Ms M calls me, and I have a chat, and a short break from the book. As we chatted, I clould feel myself calming down.
After the call- what do I do?? I start reading again. Quickly the panic and fear is back. I decided, I'm just going to keep pushing through. I just need a little bit of a happy ending, let the goal of the main character be acheived. Well, the happy ending doesn't really come until three quarters of the way through the book. And by that point in time-the zombie business has stopped (characters are in a quarrantine/safetey zone), so I do what any rational person does- I finish the book. Hoping and praying that in the last quarter of the book there isn't a big zombie attack, and because I don't know if I can handle a second day of reading.
While I relocated from the couch to the bed, to finish the book...I start to hear something that's not in my bedroom. Do I research the sound or assume it's my imagination going crazy again? What doesn't help is that I have my humidifier going (thanks to germy colds), so there's a constant source of white noise. I decide to get out of bed to investigate, with the over active mind thinking about zombies. Luckily it was just the TV that was on...I'm guessing I didn't turn it off, that or it's Poltergeist, but I can't worry about that at the moment. I can only stress about one scare at a time. Zombies or ghosts that possess clowns....it's too much.
So I turn off the TV, go back to bed, around 11/1130 I finish the book and then promptly go to sleep. What a restful night of sleep it was. My dreams where filled with zombies and me trying to escape them. Around 4am I woke up thinking that my alarm was going off, but I was just halucinating. I thought the faint sound of music was maybe my TV again, but there was no TV glow to be seen in the living room. No need for me to get out of bed and risk getting pulled under by a zombie. For a good 30minutes I must have laid there thinking I was hearing music or some inhumane sound coming from various parts of my house or from the outside. I was feeling sick to my stomach again and pissed that I read the damn book.
When I did get up for work, it was awfully dark in the house, with everything closed up. I was moving very cautiously, waiting for a zombie attack. Luckily there was nothing lurking around. I sat at my computer desk, ready to get to work, out of the corner of my eye, out the window, I can see the small palms sway. They scare the bejesus out of me. The whole day, when ever anything moved outside, or people walked by my first thought: HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! ZOMBIES!!!!!!!!! Eventually I calmed down. I mean, I know zombies aren't real, and they aren't going to attack me, and if they are, they sure as hell aren't going to be as moving as fast as something of things I saw move about outside.
The book ended with the possiblity of a sequel. No matter how badly I want to know the real final, final end...I'm not going to read it. I can't handle anymore zombie panic. The mental anguish, feeling like I'm going to throw up at any second. OY!!! Kudos to me for being a moron and thinking it wasn't going to be that bad and I could handle it. Hahahahahaha!!!
Rock out, with your self induced tortured cock out....
Saturday, January 1, 2011
A letter to my neighbor...
Dear Neighbor-
We've been neighbors for almost 6 years....You quietly living in the condo below mine. And for the most part it's been ideal. This past summer, though, something rather disturbing has happened.
I know that your daughter has fallen on hard times. She's been unemployed for over a year, after losing her business. And she lost her (million dollar) home. Forcing her to move in with you, bringing the darling grandkids along. You home is bursting at the seams, what was once a home for one is now a (temporary) home for four. You plan lengthy vacations to get away from the chaos. Lucky you.
However, I do not get the luxury of escaping. This is my home, I work and live here. I can't just escape like a retired person for months on end. Quite frankly, when you do leave, the noise that erupts from below, in your condo, is very loud. There is fighting, yelling, doors slamming, and my most favorite...SCREECHING.
I've actually been woken up at 145am, on a school night, to screeching and yelling. An argument occurring between your precious, darling granddaughter and your daughter regarding bed time, school, and morning routines. There has been many nights where the screeching is almost constant. Pair this with the constant door slamming, and I start to see red.
I contemplate my options.
Should I talk to you about the noise level? Now, I know I'm not the quietest, and my dog does bark. The difference between my barking dog and your screeching precious 10 year old granddaughter, my dog is instinctual. He reacts to sites and sounds first, before knowing what the cause is...and no matter how hard I try, he doesn't always respond to logical thoughts. Your precious baby, however, can.
Maybe I should call the police about noise level disturbances. And frequently.
My favorite option: PUNCH THE FUCKING KID IN THE FACE!!!
Happy new year!
Kisses-
~L
We've been neighbors for almost 6 years....You quietly living in the condo below mine. And for the most part it's been ideal. This past summer, though, something rather disturbing has happened.
I know that your daughter has fallen on hard times. She's been unemployed for over a year, after losing her business. And she lost her (million dollar) home. Forcing her to move in with you, bringing the darling grandkids along. You home is bursting at the seams, what was once a home for one is now a (temporary) home for four. You plan lengthy vacations to get away from the chaos. Lucky you.
However, I do not get the luxury of escaping. This is my home, I work and live here. I can't just escape like a retired person for months on end. Quite frankly, when you do leave, the noise that erupts from below, in your condo, is very loud. There is fighting, yelling, doors slamming, and my most favorite...SCREECHING.
I've actually been woken up at 145am, on a school night, to screeching and yelling. An argument occurring between your precious, darling granddaughter and your daughter regarding bed time, school, and morning routines. There has been many nights where the screeching is almost constant. Pair this with the constant door slamming, and I start to see red.
I contemplate my options.
Should I talk to you about the noise level? Now, I know I'm not the quietest, and my dog does bark. The difference between my barking dog and your screeching precious 10 year old granddaughter, my dog is instinctual. He reacts to sites and sounds first, before knowing what the cause is...and no matter how hard I try, he doesn't always respond to logical thoughts. Your precious baby, however, can.
Maybe I should call the police about noise level disturbances. And frequently.
My favorite option: PUNCH THE FUCKING KID IN THE FACE!!!
Happy new year!
Kisses-
~L
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