Across the street from my office a new building full of condos went up and they put two restaurants in the bottom floor...very citay. (I know how to spell city, I just wanted you to know when I said that sentence out loud, that is phonetically how I said city.) Firehouse Subs (which I really don't like) and a place called "In the Box...Hot. Sticky. Sweet." I wanted a break from grading database exams, so I decided to try the In The Box place. Seems it is a pb&j and cereal bar. I got a VERY healthy bowl of S'more Cereal...which is Golden Grahams, mini marshmallows and chocolate chips, a banana and diet Coke. The cereal came in a sort of chinese food looking container, and overall, was weird.
First...a teenager changed her name so that she could heighten awareness that not all kids like to cut stuff up in high school biology. If I were to take that approach, what would I protest?
The amazing number of jackasses I run into on a daily basis, and how I think they suck. Therefore, my new name: JackassesSuck.com. You can just call me Jacks. FYI: She named herself CutoutDissection.com...Cutout for short, but her family is still calling her Jennifer.
Second, apparently there is a tool that will prevent me from drunk-emailing...how it works is you have to do a series of math problems, with the theory being if you can get through them you are probably lucid enough to realize that your email is a bad. idea. Now if I could install that tool on my phone for calling AND text messaging, oh, and blogger comments. Problem is...I ROCK at those brain enhancing games and probably could do most math problems hammered. Sounds like something that needs to be tested. I think I might conduct a little experiment this weekend. Disregard any emails after 10pm just in case I bust it wide open with my mad math skills.
Outside of Internet weirdness, my Dad sends my sister, Mr. P and I text messages that him and his 2 year girlfriend (uhh, Dad it was was 4 years) broke up, and he will be okay in two or so days. Weird news to get via text. But the Queen MOTHER of all things FUCKED UP was still to happen...it is weird and disturbing and about my mother...so you might want to just go ahead and move along...how about checking out a connect the dots tattoo that is a ....giraffe?
I am telling you....YOU need to go, the next bit of disturbing information is for my own angst release since Mr.P would not let me throw my guacamole taco at him at dinner. He even made the comment..."we probably should go home so you can just blog".
Heaven help you...here goes, my mother's dog died today...yeah, I know...sucks, right? That isn't all...damn, I wish that were all. But, here goes...she spent the day in her apartment with the. dead. dog. getting sloshed on wine. See, in her twisted fuck of a mind, no one will go to her rescue because her dog died...dogs die, it's sad, but it happens. HOWEVER, if she is so drunk and sad and crazy that she spends a whole day with a dead dog, someone surely will rush there and take care of it all. I do hate that her dog died, that dog was my dog's sister, but if she thinks one dead dog is going to wipe off the last ten years of her screwing us over she is crazier than I even thought. Sorry, I told you it was awful... but if you couldn't help yourself and you are appalled that I would talk about my mother like this...before you report me to the worst daughter of the universe police, you might want to read this.
OH. and a spider bit my cheek. Gross.