Sunday, December 26, 2004

God thinks I'm hilarious.
I got the greatest gift ever for Christmas.
A letter telling me I've been laid off due to lack of work, postmarked on the 22nd.
Merry fucking Christmas, Clare.
So yea, I've not been in the mood to update or change around my links or anything.
The kicker of this entire deal?
I get a letter in the mail saying I'm laid off right before Christmas and how if work picks up they will call me. (By the way, if you are reading this, don't bother).
Christmas is a hard financial time for most people, myself included. So thrilled, I was not.
So I'm sure you can imagine my joy when I got the voicemail that cheerfully informed me that I was still welcome at their Christmas party.
Now that, takes balls.
The problem being, I have to find a job, soon.
I don't want to tell my parents and worry them, seeing as they've stressed repeatedly that things are tight right now.
So if anyone wants to give me a job, like now, I'd appriciate it.
Gah.
To top it off, I spent Christmas alone. Because, suprise, I thought I had to work.
Way to fuck me straight up my ass, guys.
Merry Fucking Christmas.

Saturday, December 18, 2004

I know.
It's been over a month.
I've been horrifically busy.
My schedule is something like this:

Research Methods: Sit beside stoner kid who says brilliant things like "heh. whoa" and "What were we talking about again?" in between the occasional boring video about ethics in research. Contemplate throwing self out the window.

Theories of Personality: Sit by same window I debated throwing myself out of. Realize that by throwing myself out of that window, I wouldn't be able to hear my professor say things like "You just want to jump someone's bones. But since no one wants you to do that, we need to find a viable alternative". Occasionally make a tally of how many times she says "penis" during lecture. Start another tally for every time she makes a penis joke.

Dinosaurs and Extinction: Sit by my friend, and wonder why my buddy won't speak to me if his girlfriend is within a 4 mile radius of the classroom. Wonder if Dr. Hammer was hot when he was younger (and had hair). Actually pay attention, seeing as he discovered a dinosaur and is a funny mother fucker.

Religion, Culture and Archeology: Ponder the existence of god for 2 hours, coming to the conclusion that if god does exist, he does indeed hate me.


The rest of my valuable time is spent at work.
I now work with computers, and idiots. It's like data processing, but I'm the one they call if something fucks up.
Which is lovely, but when I'm not doing that I get to do some data entry.
And I hate you mother fuckers.
Seriously.
So now I present you with my guide to not sounding like a douche on the fucking phone.
1. Shut off the fucking TV, turn down the radio, and sedate your children. It is really fucking hard to understand you when you are bitching to little Billy not to put his dick in the dog.
2. Speak slowly and distinctly. And when I say that I mean about as slowly as you would speak to a person that was copying down something. No slower. We work with computers, we aren't retarded. However, if you have an accent in which you can't pronounce most vowels, be sure you spell if necessary. Most of us don't speak "ignorant hick".
3. If the computer asks you for an email, or some other bit of information you don't have, you have one of two options. Say "none" and shut your hole, or simply don't respond. The longer you say 'None, I don't have one, NONE!" the longer the computer will record it before moving to the next field, and the longer I have to listen to you. Don't even think about screaming in to that phone, either, I can easily find out where you mother fuckers live.
4. For the love of all that is holy, pay attention. I can't count the number of times I've asked for an email address and gotten "3928 Harrington Street, MomFuck Arkansas, 40929".
5. If you have an email address, spell it out. People think they are cute and spell them all sorts of cutesy ways that are nothing close to the original spellings of the word. If you fail to do this, I will store your email address in my short term memory, go home, and sign up your email (or any possible variation of it) to geriatric gay beastiality mailing lists, and various online Christian publications. And lets face it, nothing is scarier than a god fanatic with access to the information superhighway followed by Grandpa Moses and his boyfriend defiling Mr. Ed.
6. Remember, there are people who have to listen to your stupid ass, present yourself accordingly. Remember, we are the people who process your refunds, your credit cards, your mail, etc, and you are starting to piss us off.

Random Links:
Pumpkin Porn
Bush Dress Up Doll
A Guide To Offing Yourself Like A Man.
Making Kids Cry Is Fun.