Rant: Canvassing in the rain. Rave: Finally starting to pull out of the depressive funk that has been overwhelming me of late. Many thanks to various TiB members for being supportive bitches. Love y'all. Rant: The two smelly guys from my Marvel RPG are in the process of breaking up. I am sorta sad for both of them (as sad as you can be for two grown men who obviously cannot wash themselves properly), but I'm mostly sad for myself. I was really starting to like this game and now their romantic drama is jeopardizing my chance to play more of it. Rave: Finally unfucked my new bra (the cup was bunched? and the underwire bent in the wash or something) and now my tits are so comfortable that I barely notice they're there. This is the BEST FEELING EVER.
Rave: Cell Phone is back up and running. For the past couple of months, there was static on it when I tried to make calls. At first it was nothing, but it got progressively worse over the past couple of weeks until I finally had to drive an hour and a half to the nearest Apple store to get it replaced. At least they didn't give me any shit and replaced it quickly. We were in and out in a few minutes. Rave: Great, childless night with the wife. Good date night, with a fantastic end to the good date night. Rant: Couldn't talk the in-laws to taking the kid overnight, so no sleeping in tomorrow.
Rant: I wonder how my day will be when it starts with putting the Keurig cup in the machine, but forgetting the coffee cup to catch all the coffee.
Rant: Sick as a dog, can't do anything. Rant: Haven't had so much as a single beer in the last few weekends.
Fucking Rant: Command had an official weigh-in last week. Basically, they take your height and weight and match it up to this chart. They cut an inch off my height, which meant that my maximum weight dropped from 197 to 192. Unfortunately, I was 193 pounds. Cue epic shitstorm for being overweight. I find it hilarious when a fatass gunny who probably hasn't seen the inside of the gym since last month's intramural volleyball tournament is chewing me out for being "fat" and threatening me with BCP. He then tried to screw me over with the tape measure. Basically, if you're overweight, for men, they subtract the circumference of your neck from the circumference of your waist to get some value that they plug into your chart. Shithead decided to be as slack as possible in the waist and used the tape measure as a ligature for my neck... and when I STILL taped out, (thank you, eighteen-inch neck) he tried to do it looser / tighter. So according to the official paperwork, I'm 16% bodyfat. I'd be laughing my ass off if that gunny hadn't tried so fucking hard to screw me over. All over one pound that I could've just floated off if I'd known they'd be Nazis with the height measurement. Rant: Fucked my shoulder up doing bench press. I don't even know how I did it; I was doing a warmup set and it suddenly felt like it was ripping in half. Tried even lighter weight and even that was painful. Damn. Rave: Went on a nice run instead. Rave: I've lost five pounds since last week, so hopefully I don't have to worry about this faggotry anymore.
RANT: Hey asshole, thanks for making plans to come over for dinner and then not actually showing up or calling to tell me you weren't coming. Thankfully Christy called to tell me you were at the bar. This is why our relationship is nonexistant. Thanks for showing me once again what a thoughtless piece of shit you are. I won't bother wasting anymore time on you.
Rave: Just booked our group of friends' annual New Years trip. This year's destination: New Orleans. People around here gave me a lot of good pointers for Vegas on NYE a few years ago (such as not even wasting time/money by paying for a ticket into a bar) so if anyone has any awesome things we should see/do, I'll love you forever. We get in on Saturday the 29th and leave on Tuesday the 2nd and our only plan so far is to go to the Saints vs Panthers game on the Sunday.
RANT: So the other day, I walk into the bar I work at, only to realize that once again, L has closed it as shittily as possible, because she is clearly a fucking idiot. I've told her a hundred times, "L, don't stack the glasses like how you imagine a gorilla would beat the shit out of a lion, stack the glasses like a normal person." I've told her to stock up on things if it's a slow night. I've told her, essentially, to stop being a lazy Long Beach bitch, and do her fucking job. I said it a little more politely than that. I said it was not personal, that it had everything to do with wanting to keep things organized, and that I said these things to everyone (which I do, because I am a bitch who enjoys things being fucking organized, sue me). Cut to last night. Bar gets slammed, we get our asses kicked, but by 1am it's basically empty. Of course, that's not good enough for L, who by 1:40am, ten minutes past close, is trying to get drinks for people who are FUCKING PLASTERED. Not only is she delaying us closing the bar, she is trying to get us all fucked in the ass for over-serving. Cut to 2am, when I have been there for ten hours, and her only for six. I'm dead on my feet, having stayed long past when I should have just to make sure everyone is sorted out. I finally go home, get some well deserved rest, wake up today to see she has written a giant passive-aggressive email to our entire staff. "Pretty sure the dining room server was supposed to set up the dining room, but we had to do it instead? Is that a thing?" "I think we missed out on some tips because the dining room server didn't enter them in correctly." "Can we make sure everyone (including dining room) is doing their job so the closers don't have to stay so late?" Yes, I am the dining room server. And she is a drama-loving cunt who I would break her pretty little neck if I got the chance. No mention of her sixteen million smoke breaks last night. No mention of her taking a bunch of shots in the back and then proceeding to have half-hour conversations with guests rather than helping close the bar. No mention of the fact that I had to stay two hours past what my normal shift should have been because she couldn't keep her shit together. Not that I mind, fuck no. I would work until my feet bled if people needed me to stay. I mind the incredible audacity that someone who is so fucking careless, terrible at anything that doesn't involve shamelessly flattering strangers, and obviously a two-faced drama queen could even think that they could hint that I don't do my job fucking well. She is lucky that I am in Vegas this week and not at work, or the next shift I saw her I would gut her and wear her heart as a fucking earring. I mean, have a polite conversation about how to approach someone rationally when you have a disagreement about their work style.
Rant Two weekends in a row spent working at the base....fuck me, is it next Friday yet? Rave I love the new TiB slogan.
Rant: Grading takes fucking forever. Rant: I have gotten into a serious funk over the past couple of weeks and have started up with some serious self-sabotage. Rant: Sentences from my students like "YOLO my dude YOLO!" aren't helping the cause. Shit, here is a sample of the next page's musings: Code: "Awesomeness Swagtastic SWAG!! =D BAM! Right Der." Last week she drew a ghost for one of her journal responses. Rabble rabble get off my lawn rabble rabble America is finished rabble rabble rabble. Would it be okay if I just wrote the url to this video as feedback? Spoiler
Rant: My company let my counterpart go on Friday. Definitely came as a shock to me this morning. Rave: Being here longer than him prevented it from being me who got let go. It still sucks that he was the one to go, but better it be him than me.
Rave: 24th wedding anniversary today and to celebrate, we're going out to an awesome seafood restaurant for stone crab claws. It's a high end place that offers unlimited claws on Mondays for $55 per person. I'll certainly get my money's worth. Last time we went, I think I had 27 claws. Hopefully, I'll make it to our 25th.
Rave: Sometimes weekends are best spent having nonstop sex, taking breaks only to nap, eat, or drink (not necessarily in that order). Rant: You cannot un-send emails. FUCK! Rave: My oldest sister got engaged on Saturday. She will be the first of my (three) siblings to be married! Thankfully her fiance is a great guy too. Rave: Looks like November should be an awesome month between hunting trips and more responsibility plus new opportunities at work. I am really looking forward to having some positive change around here.
Rave: Yesterday I played tug-of-war with a 500lb male Siberian tiger. It was me and two women on a fire hose pulling against this thing, and it was making it tough on us without even trying. (Next try was three big guys and it yanked them in just as easy). There was a chain link fence between us and the cat, before you ask. The strength of that animal is incredible, and if you get the chance to do it, I encourage you to. Also fed blueberries to lemurs, tossed a piece of chicken to a fat lioness with poor vision, "chuffed" to a tiger that answered me back (awesome), and had an overall good time. But the icing on the cake was corralling and playing with a 9-month old lion cub. Little (relative, the critter was the size of a rottweiler at least) guy loved having his belly rubbed. All in a big cat rescue center about an hour WNW of Dallas/Ft. Worth. 35 tigers, 3 lions, 5 black and spotted leopards, 7 mountain lions and one snow leopard. And lemurs, for some reason. I could spend all day in that place.
Rant: Look here, you wannabe suburban gangster. It is 3:30 in the afternoon, and I'm trying to finish an article critique that's due at 5. Quite frankly, I don't give a flying fuck how great the bass from your shitty Nissan's stereo is. I can feel it reverberating through my skull, particularly in my eardrums, and it's making me nauseated. Please, for the love of religion, go play that shit down in south Fulton where someone might do us all a favor and shoot your lily white ass. Love, PG I don't like small children, but I hate high schoolers more. Edit, per a rep about withholding sex until they pull up their pants: I'd like to clarify that I don't have sex with high schoolers, and haven't done so since I was in high school myself. Occasionally, I'm confused by high school seniors that look like they should be college seniors, and it makes me all sorts of sad that I feel like 18 is way too young for me (and that's a rant unto itself), but the buck stops there. If someone is telling these kids they look pretty with their pants sagging below their butts, it's not me.
Rave: 4 day weekend coming up. Rant: It will almost double the amount of time I've had off for the rest of the year so far (weekends excluded) Rant: My last grandparent had to go into a home last week. She seems content but I can't shake the feeling it's just a waiting room for the morgue. Rant: Bills. I'm paying more in fucking bills now than I earned 10 years ago net. I don't know whether to be happy about this or pissed. I console myself with the fact that the sacrifices I make now will pay dividends in the future. That was carthartic.
Rant: Writing the schedule today was brutal. I started at 0730 and finished by 730 at night. Fuck everyone there for changing it constantly and then "jokingly" blaming me for that shit getting out late. Fuck all of you pricks and your condescending bullshit. Rave: I'm home now drinking scotch. Rave: The new slogan.