That's a penny you owe himWhatever.
So, I got through the week with job intact. I suspect the Sword of... something or other, insert your own witty play on the word 'Damocles' as it pertains to working in a call center and pissing off customers; I'm too tired... is still hangin over my head (that ain't no crime), but this week our brand new site platform for our brand new 100,000 employee client went live, and promptly started to smoke, give off sparks, and burst into oily flames, so the walking talking crisis that is me got subsumed into the much larger crisis that is Keeping The New Million Dollar Billing Client Happy.
So, as of now, I'm still employed. (That collective moan of disappointment is doubtless coming from the Benrikians in the audience. Say, what the hell is Benriki, anyway? A Polynesian building material? A half human, half mongoose professional wrestler?)
In other news, it's been hot lately.
Yeah, that's about as exciting as it's been around here. Well, no, that's not true. As it turns out, some people I've tried my hardest to be very civil to, to the point of loaning them movies to watch and giving away a lot of my HeroClix and game supplies for their kids to play with, have been acting like complete tools lately. Saying shitty, nasty, mean spirited things about SuperGirlfriend. Sniggering about the decor of our house. Allowing snidely as to how I must not be very good in bed, and I'm pretty much worthless as a human being because I don't make a great deal of money. Who wants to be friends with someone shallow, petty, childish, and pitiful enough to think that way? I just feel foolish for actually inviting these people into our home, and wasting the effort trying to be friendly to them. There no point to it. This is the sort of person who ends up trolling blogs anonymously. You know. Worthless. Let's move on.
Let's see. What else, what else... well, the third season of Deadwood starts June 11. This would be bad, except that SuperGirlfriend and I scored the second season DVD set a few days ago, and with the girls going over to their dad's house for a week, that's pretty much what's on our schedule for the weekend. (If my next several entries seem to contain a great many references to 'cocksuckers', you'll know it's the Swearingen influence.)
I cannot get a Veteran Captain America or a Veteran Ultron from ARMOR WARS for nothin'. NOTHIN'. No shop has them as singles. I can't find anyone to trade them to me at the WizKids site. Swear to God, I'm going to have to buy a case of ARMOR WARS for two lousy figures. TWO. LOUSY. FIGURES. It's driving me crazy.
See? I knew I could cheer up the Burlapians if I tried.
Oh, yeah, the Take Me To TV Land post-thing I did right before this. I wrote that several years ago, when I was considerably more sexually frustrated than I am now. (I suspect that shows.) If I were writing it now, it would contain a lot less erotica and at least one lengthy passage where I ran amok like an avatar of Yama-Dharma throughout the length and breadth of the Disney Channel, strewing bits and pieces of Raven, Zack, Codey, Hannah Montana, Lindsay Lohan, that appalling little sister of Britney Spears, those horrible blondes from the COW BELLES movie, and all their extraneous supporting cast members, in a bloody trail behind me as I rampaged through the smoking, shattered ruins of its family oriented entertainment-scape. And oh, how I would laugh as I did it.
I guarantee nobody's going to read that thing all the way through to the end. I mean, it's 17,000 words long. But I kind of wanted to post something funny, and, well, the funny wasn't coming to me while I was at work today.
Next week I'm doing the early shift at work three out of four days, which is horrible when I have to get up in the morning, but cool when I'm getting out at night and there's still some light in the sky. We have no girls all week, which is sad for SuperGirlfriend and me both. But we get them back again next weekend, which is always fun.
Okay, SuperGirlfriend is done reading to SuperAdorable Kid. (I get to read to her once in a while, but mostly she prefers the dulcet tones of her mom, and who can blame her?) So it's time for me to go. Everyone have a nice weekend. Except you Bendoverians. Y'all can just eat a great deal of paste.