Caterwauling

Offices are open today. Humbug. I was looking forward to a day off or, at least, a nice delay. 🙂

My computer at work started ringing the death bell yesterday. One of the fans went bad. My designer cracked open that G4 and replaced it, circumventing the “do not open” message on the power supply. If we had to send that box to Apple, I would’ve been without a computer for at least a week (not to mention whatever it would cost), but within the space of two hours, my computer was as good as new again. 🙂

I looked into upgrading my computer at home, but it’s too old to support Panther. Maybe if I get a few bucks, I’ll just buy System 9 and upgrade the memory. But I am hoping that the feds don’t seize my tax return to pay for my defaulted student loan, because I will get just enough money back to buy an iBook, and I’d love to have one. I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing with computers, though. I mean, what hardware do I need? I expect to get an Airport card, but what’s all this with routers and ports and WiFi and what not? Am I the only Mac user in the world without a clue on these things?

Some of this month’s top searches to date that led them into the abyss of my carbohydrate-craving psyche:

Wash the coochie

LOL — One of my all time favorite songs. Find it on my server here.

And it’s always raining in my head lyrics staind

The song’s called “Epiphany” my friend. Excellent taste in music, although “Wash the Coochie” kicks its ass anyday.

As she ate her sister’s shit

Um. … And did they search for the next term?

Aunt placed me over her lap

Jesus H. And then what?

Daddy vibrates my vagina

Sick fucks. Incest is best, relatively speaking (apparently).

Cats poop on carpet when pissed off

You really need to read Maddie’s site for tales of pissy pussies who poop and puke on demand.

Cuz your coochie stank

Um. *sniff* Freshly washed, as always. Move along.

Fat shit cat

Maddie can help you better than I can.

Grim reaper dancing in pitchers

In PITCHERS? I tend to dance BECAUSE of what’s IN the pitchers myself.

Halushki

Umm, cabbage and noodles. … (fucking carbs)

Handcuffs try them on

When ya comin’ over to try them out?

How do geminis survive a breakup

Easy. Show them the door. Go fuck someone else. Amazing what a hot piece of ass can do to dissipate any residual anger.

How do mountain people keep warm\houses clothes

I’m sure they snuggle up and fuck a lot. No clothing necessary.

Hurricane isabella pepco

Can’t speak for Pepco, but Dominion didn’t impress me in the least. Damn week without electricity and hot showers.

King of the veggie patch

Ah, the CEO of my company!

Kitty porn

What Maddie downloads when I’m at work.

Liz claiborne cat collars

And Maddie is adorable in hers. You just can’t see it through her mass of fur.

TGI Fuck Day

Who’s offering?

Janet Jackson’s boob on Craig’s List

Was it detachable? Fifty cents, and that’s my final offer.

Counselors for OCD in Ireland

I happen to be able to help you: OCD Ireland, courtesy of a dear old friend across the Pond.

Glad to be of service.

I came home tonight to find a door hanger placed there by the apartment company, telling me that maintenance had entered the premises. They of course did not list WHY these yin-yangs came in and scared my cats. All I can figure is that they went on the balcony (they didn’t put the window bar back where it belonged) and left my deadbolt unlocked when they left. God damn them … I take care of my place and would like to come back to all my belongings here and not stolen by someone who could’ve gotten in to either door. Fuckers.

I’m embroiled in battle at the Veggie Patch with a “leader” who wants to take over the newspaper. Insert that bitch on wheels is already a column editor and couldn’t write a declarative sentence properly even if it could save the ozone layer. She is trying to organize/found an editorial board that would oversee our activities, from hiring practices to content to whatever the hell else she wants to control.

Let’s just say that, after eight epic e-mails from me, and I’ve heard not word one from either of my superiors. Eight. I am so against this woman’s politics and personal political agendas that I would rather hand in my resignation than report to her EVER.

I need to buy some memory for my Mac at home (so I can work there more often and escape the assholitry that eats up my workdays). Any suggestions on which brands to buy and what kind of cost it will be? (I need a shitload of memory — I’m gonna bite the bullet and buy Panther).

Remember the crazy sexual harasser at the Payless in Springfield Mall? I finally got an acknowledgment from their corporate HQ:

“Thank you for your message, and making us aware of your experience with our store. I apologize for the behavior that you have described. I will forward your comments to the Operations Executive for this store for follow up.

Angie, Customer Service Department.”

Thank me for my time? Whatevah. I was expecting maybe more questions, maybe even some propaganda that harassing customers is against store policy, and the offending employee will be appropriately disciplined. Or maybe, hell, they should’ve asked me for my address so they could send me a nice gift card for my trouble. 😉

Quotes of the day:

“I am not publishing that idiot’s submissions until Satan becomes editor of The Pearly Gate Times.” — me, talking about some incoherent twit who keeps sending me crappy reader viewpoints and keeps asking when I’m going to publish them.

“I’m not setting a good example for you, are I?” me again, telling Angie what a poor excuse for a supervisor I can be sometimes. And clearly, I need to not be teaching her my grammar, either. 😉

I always enjoy the Superbowl halftime shows (actually, just the commercials), so I was sad to be in Silver Spring, Md., when Justin Timberlake exposed Janet Jackson’s breast during “Rock Your Body.”

Because CBS execs are in an uproar over this crazy stunt during what it thinks is a family show (um, no — the show was appropriately tailored to its horny hetero male target audience), everyone’s issuing apologies that the act was unintentional and unrehearsed. Yeah, sure. ‘Cause, you know, Janet just HAPPENED to have a silvery, sunburst-shaped pastie on her nipple. ‘Cause, you know, I’m wearing one right now ’cause those aren’t itchy or uncomfortable or anything. HAH!

In any event, I’m hurtin’ today from Shawn’s grand move to Maryland last night (although I am MOST grateful that he sold a lot of his furniture prior to this odyssey!). We left a two-floor house and dragged everything to a third-floor apartment. Problem with the third floor is that it’s at the top of five flights of stairs. I’m already a wimp and can’t carry much because I’m just not altogether that physically strong, but trying to drag this ass (and Aunt Flow, who showed up just to attend the move) up all those stairs was just morally wrong. But the new place is way cute, and I hope Shawn and the boys will be happy there (Kirby seemed OK, but Jynx was giving himself a heart attack from yipping and freaking out over the adventure).

I had more doggie adventures than I care to recount, but what the hell — while I’m here, I’ll share. 🙂 Kirby rode to Maryland in my car, and he was very good, lying in the backseat and not whimpering much. But then he got the bright idea that I might drive better with his head in my armpit. He attemped to crawl into the front seat a few times, but luckily, I had Bryan with me to shove him back where he belonged. I have a Garfield doll clinging to the window (shut up, it’s Valentine’s Day-themed), and Kirby was licking its ass for part of the ride. (Sidenote: Kirby likes poop. He eats poop all the time. He sniffs Jynx’s ass and waits for poop to come out. So he has an ass fetish.)

The other doggie adventure came when I REALLY needed to use the bathroom at the new place. Jynx had been creating such a ruckus that someone had shoved him and his cage in the small bathroom, and I literally had to wedge myself in between him and the toilet. I later told Shawn that his dog got a firsthand account of how to insert a tampon correctly, and Shawn shuddered and chastised me for scaring his puppy.

The night ended on a dramatic note (it always does, but the source of the drama always rotates), but I was at least home to catch the end of “Sex and the City” to see Charlotte’s bleeding dog. Ugh. That reminds me that I’ve got to get Kadi spayed soon so she doesn’t start adding blood to her already nasty shitty skid marks on my beige carpet. *twitch*

The State of the Union Address, as given by the Soda Jerks.