October 31, 2003

Freaky Friday Five

This week's Friday Five looks pretty easy...
Buttermilk Biscuits
1. What was your first Halloween costume?
I don't remember. I have only the vaguest memories of trick-or-treating.
2 c. all-purpose flour
2. What was your best costume and why?
I don't remember that either.
1 tsp. baking powder
3. Did you ever play a trick on someone who didn't give you a treat?
Well, no. I don't think anybody ever refused to give me a treat, and knowing me, if they had, I would much more likely have sat and sulked than gotten them back. [You learn this very early when you're the baby of the family; it is never to your advantage to get anybody back for anything, no matter what it is, because they're all bigger than you.]
1/3 tsp. baking soda
4. Do you have any Halloween traditions? (ie: Family pumpkin carving, special dinner before trick or treating, etc.)
Yeah, I cast a circle and do Tarot readings. We used to carve pumpkins, but that's kind of a kid thing, I think. I've seen so many freakin' jack-o-lanterns in my life that making one just doesn't do it for me anymore.
3/4 tsp. salt
5. Share your favorite scary story...real or legend!
What do I keep telling you guys about favourites? Here's a scary story for ya. Once upon a time there was a company who was trying to get ISO9000-2000 certified but whose unofficial policy was to get away with the crappiest product, made from the cheapest, most degraded material possible, until they got caught passing off 35th-generation regrind nylon as virgin. The end. Nighty-night! <3<3<3
1/3 c. shortening
And that concludes both the Scary Story Hour and the Friday Five. Tune in next time...
sift dry ingredients; cut into shortening
The night in a nutshell: I made a Halloween costume by clipping a red "SCRAP" tag to my shirt and telling everybody I was one of day shift's parts. That got a lot of laughs because days ran a whole shift's worth of total shit on one of the presses, so we basically had to start the job over. I was going to cut a hole in a big box so I could see, put it over my head and shoulders, and go as rework, but things got too busy. I got rid of more of the cake I'd brought, as people made up for not having had any the night before, thus rescuing me from some of the fat and sugar. And just now I found out that somebody I've been IM'ing who I thought was a decent person is a bigot. Damn, now I'm down to 17 people on my friends list. What a loss. :(
add milk; knead 10-12 strokes
[/disdainful sarcasm]
450 degrees
Also, because of the solar flare, the digital clocks in my apartment are drifting farther and farther apart. I'm afraid to look at the alarm clock in the bedroom; it's supposed to be 6 minutes ahead of the microwave, and last night it was 10. The microwave's supposed to be 2 minutes ahead of the computer, and it's about 4 1/2. I'm not even gonna look at the stereo clock until this all blows over. The caller ID box seems fine.
10-15 min. or until golden-brown on top
Must go deposit my whopping paycheck now...then off to town...
yield: 8-12 biscuits
same bitch time, same bitch channel...
nice with baked chicken or blueberry preserves
Invention for the day: A back-massaging device that looks like a rolling pin with rubber knobbies on it like one of those foot rollers. You can either put it between you and the wall and roll it up and down, or have somebody roll it up and down your back til your muscles are like warm cookie dough. [mmm...warm cookie dough...]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 09:07 AM | Comments (0)

October 30, 2003

Pot luck

oh, blessed graces, what a night.

Actually, there are two stories behind the name of this entry.

The 70-something guy on our shift is retiring; tonight's his last night. So last night we brought in subs [bought by the company] and other culinary accoutrements [bought/made by us] and had a celebratory potluck. I brought a cake, ate way too much of everything, and enjoyed it all. So that's one reason.

The other reason is one that you might not want to read if you're a wuss or if you're eating. If you're a wuss, you probably stopped reading this blog months ago, so finish whatever you're eating and then read it.

And since that big-ass HTML file is still squatting in my blog because nobody has told me how to remove it, the extended entry wossname doesn't work, so I'm going to have to put it in the main entry and gross people out whether they're done eating or not.

You know how your digestive system gets after you eat pizza? Especially if it's right before bedtime, because it takes until a couple hours after you've gotten up again--oh, say, maybe a little after you get to work--before it makes its way to your lower digestive tract, which sees all that grease and lactose and goes, "Ewwww, what the fuck is this? Dude, we gotta ship this shit outta here!" So around five minutes to nine, I, uh, sensed a great disturbance in the Force. Yeah. So I go to the bathroom, double-check to make sure that the stall I'm using has both ample TP and Glade, and get down to business. I reach back for a courtesy flush...

...and the handle is broken.

[Insert panic-stricken music here. The dunh-dunh-DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNH from "Beavis and Butthead"--I really gotta find a .wav file of that--or the shower music from Psycho will do nicely.]

Now, a regular person would panic in a situation like this. And so did I. First I thought I'd have to put a sign up saying not to use that stall because the handle was broken; then I wondered what I was gonna do with, uh, y'know, the stuff that didn't go down like it was supposed to. The handle not working would be okay, cos there's another stall, but this just wouldn't do. So on a hunch born largely out of blind frantic desperation, I took the top off the tank, and sure enough, the chain was unhooked from the lever that attaches to the handle. Hooked it back up, the john flushed, and all was right with the world, until the Glade fell onto the floor and the cap flew off. Luckily, it didn't spray anywhere, and I managed, after much swearing, to snap the cap back on and deluge the stall with Morning Sunlight or Springtime Breeze or whatever the hell they call the stuff. [They could call it Dick Munch for all I care, as long as it smells better than what it's covering up.]

So that's the other reason, and it also doubles as my Halloween scare for the year.

And it gave me a really neat [if puerile] idea for the next time I need to get back at somebody for something.

Must go to bed...payday tonight! 80 hours @ regular time + 20 hours OT @ time and a half = mucho simoleons. Tomorrow morning: shoppinnnnnn'...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Halloween prank suggestion for the day: If your workplace restroom has normal household toilets with tanks, unhook all the chains from the handle levers so the flappers won't rise. Then situate yourself in view [and hearing range] of the bathroom, make popcorn, sit back and watch the fun! Note: Also works great on April Fool's Day.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 12:00 PM | Comments (0)

October 29, 2003

Grosseries

What's On your grocery list Right Now?

uhhh...Yeah, I oughta make one out, oughtn't I?

Skim milk, evaporated nonfat milk, ground turkey, cumin, onion powder, DECENT ACNE SOAP THAT DOESN'T STINK LIKE A WHOREHOUSE, uh, I can't think because there's 2 people IM'ing me....echinacea, goldenseal, tortillas, bread, eggs, and whatever the hell else.

I can't concentrate for all the freaking crazy people hooting down in the cafe. I can't imagine what there is in bacon and eggs to get that excited about.

That's enough...I have to get off this damn thing and finally, finally, FINALLY make something to eat before somebody else instant-messages me!

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Homework assignment for the week: If you're eating out, and you notice that the restaurant has apartments above it, keep your damn trap shut unless you're putting food into it. If you must talk, keep it down; don't slam your chair around and holler across the dining area at people you know, or at total strangers for that matter. Your karma will be the better for it. People who have no choice but to live over a restaurant have hard enough lives as it is without listening to your concentration-shattering lung-racket.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:36 AM | Comments (0)

October 28, 2003

the X'd [image] files

I cracked it.

To celebrate, I will now treat my readers to a beaver shot.

i like wood

Isn't he cute?

Anyway, with all new files, I have to upload it to the local site path, NOT the local archive path [which is the default and which always worked before], or it won't work. I suspect that HTML file that got put up as my archive is in the way, so it can't go through the archive and get to the image file without screwing up.

What's On coming up next...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:10 PM | Comments (0)

October 27, 2003

Note to Self

I really should get out of the habit of checking e-mail when I first wake up. I'm really not in the best of moods then, I'm afraid.

Here's what I have planned for this blog. The archives from early October on back--i.e. everything before the database crash--will be taken down. I will periodically re-upload and backdate selected entries that I found humourous, informative or otherwise valuable. The ones that are just me verbally puking all over the screen will no longer be available online.

During the week the site was down, I had some time to do some thinking about what I want the direction of this blog to be, and I decided that some of the past entries, while cathartic, are old news and are just more negativity cluttering up the Net. I see so much goddamn negativity online, and I've become so aware of its effects, that not contributing to it unnecessarily has become a moral issue with me. I think of it as psychic pollution. And sometimes your soul is so polluted with the crap you're going through that you just have to fling some of it out the window. But it doesn't have to stay there. Eventually, it's more helpful to everybody if you go out, pick some of it up and put it in the recycle bin where it belongs, because it's outlived any therapeutic or instructive merit it might've had.

So I was glad for the chance to vent, and may do so more in the future. At this point I have this blog, a LiveJournal, and a DeadJournal, so I'm not hurting for places to blow off steam. Hopefully I'll get the issue with the image files hammered out soon, so I'll be able to return to happily imaging away. In addition, I'm hoping that soon, when you click on an entry in "Previously," you will be directed to that entry and not to the ill-fated pre-crash archives.

I just don't have the patience to deal with it today.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

lyric for the day:
why should I feel sad
for what I never had
nothin' equals nothin'

--Madge, "Gone" [Music]

Posted by Frida Peeple at 09:00 AM | Comments (0)

October 26, 2003

oh, forget bed, just get me a coffin.

I'm tired.

I'm so tired, I feel like tying a board to the back of my neck just so I can keep my head up. I'm so tired I could just cry. My bones hurt.

I don't know what I did to get like this; you'd think I'd have rested up by now from all the sleep deprivation from before. I think I have CFS or something. Or I'm just a lazy shit. But my limbs all hurt inside. But I don't have a fever or anything. It's like my body and my brain both just...ran out of gas, quit.

I think I'm gonna go to bed. And when I get up, I need to eat as much fiber and vegetables as I can choke down.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:57 PM | Comments (0)

October 22, 2003

The Dema-Blogue

What's On your '10 interesting facts about me' list Right Now?

There isn't one. Interesting is in the eye of the beholder. I've lived with myself for 27 years, so by now there's not a damn thing left about me that I consider interesting anymore. Never mind that I've already proven myself a narcissist of monumental proportions just by having this dema-blogue. But you knew that anyway. :)

Next item: If terrorists have to bomb somebody, why can't they bomb those damn skincare products manufacturers that have to put whore perfume in everything and make people break out and make their eyes itch when all they wanted was some damn acne soap??

Aveeno makes, as far as I know, 2 acne soaps, both of which contain salicylic acid. The one in the tan box with the colloidal oatmeal is safe for perfume-sensitive people and works fine. The other stuff in the green box, I bought yesterday and am in the process of writing them an angry feedback e-mail about, because the stuff made my face itch and turn red, and is now sitting back in its little cardboard box in the bathroom cabinet. And I can still smell it. So if you enjoy being able to smell your soap from the next room, get the Clear Complexion Cleansing Bar, and have fun figuring out how to get your skin and eyes to stop itching. If not, get the other stuff with the oatmeal, which I would have gotten instead if WalMordor carried it.
if i had a wiener, i'd spank it in the morning
Ecch, I should've known. It's made by Johnson & Johnson. Everything they make smells like a goddamn whorehouse.
i'd spank it in the evening, all over this land
Sweet Hygeia, I'm gonna have to put that crap outside. Give it to a women's shelter or something, just anything to get that abominable perfumey reek out of my apartment.
i'd spank it in mcdonald's, i'd spank it in the kroger's
I have an audit in half an hour. I have to go try and figure out how to make up a checklist again, because I've forgotten most of what I learned.
i'd spank it in the burger king until i got arrested
And my one rotten tooth hurts. Not so much now, but when the 3 Advil I took finally wear off, it's gonna suck. I'm ready for the whiskey and the pliers now, please.
aAAAAaaall over this land
same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:31 AM | Comments (1)

October 21, 2003

What's cookin'?

Good question. Depends on where you are. If you were where I worked last night, it was flame-broiled glass-filled nylon.
hey you
I came in and the whole place reeked like burning plastic. All the windows were open, the loading bay, everything. Apparently the material dryer for one of the presses [plastic has to be super-dry before it will melt and mold properly] had been turned up to its maximum temperature or something like that, and the glass-filled nylon caught fire in the dryer and all the little pellets [about the size of mouse poop] fused into a big chunk inside the hopper, making it impossible for it to feed into the screw. So the giant hunk o' hunk o' burnin' nylon had to be chiselled out, and new material and dye had to be mixed to replace it, and then that had to dry, so it was many hours before the damn thing was even up and running.
out there beyond the wall
Never a dull moment in that shithole. It's reassuring to know I work with such mechanical geniuses.
breaking bottles in the hall
I really don't want to cook.
can ya help me?
And it's been about 3 weeks since I've been off that freakin' ACE inhibitor and I still have that cough. Not the incapacitating hack, just the constant mild dry hack. I'm starting to get really really sick of it. And my trachea burns. I think it's that shithole. I'd call OSHA, but they'd fucking cream us, and then I'd be totally out of a job.
hey you
I dunno.
don't tell me there's no hope at all
Oh, sorry about bollixing up the comments. I'll try to fix it sometime soon. Til then...
together we stand
same bitch time, same bitch channel...
divided we fall
Lyric for the day:
it was just before dawn
one miserable morning in black '44
when the forward commander was told to sit tight
when he asked that his men be withdrawn
and the generals gave thanks
as the other ranks
held back the enemy tanks for a while
and the Anzio Bridgehead was held for the price
of a few hundred ordinary lives

Shame on you if you don't know where this is from--Pink Floyd, "When The Tigers Broke Free," The Wall movie soundtrack. No particular reason behind it, it's just rattling around in my head lately.

A few hundred ordinary lives.

I'm going to bed.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 08:42 AM | Comments (0)

October 20, 2003

more testing...

This is to see if an image file with no spaces in the filename will render.

little xorn

Go ahead, right-click it. Correct file format, no spaces in the filename anywhere, the path goes to the right directory [I hope]...I started with no spaces in the image alt text, then changed it so there were, and it still renders.

If this doesn't work, I'm going to just bawl like a baby, and I may shut down this whole fucking blog because this is just out-of-this-world st00pid ridiculous. A blog without images is like sauceless lasagna.

If anybody stumbles across this and knows how to help, I am willing to pay to have this fixed.

sbt/sbc

Update: Okay, it renders. Why? I have no idea. I tried to redo the LJ button in the sidebar, and that doesn't work. I had this crazy idea that since the other files I uploaded that didn't work weren't jpgs and the xorn was, that a jpg would work, so I converted the button from a gif to a jpg, used a filename and an image alt that had no spaces anywhere--in other words, did exactly what made this image work--and nothing. Still just a box with an x. Oh, the link is live, but that's not the point.

I took the Saturday Scruples button down and replaced it with a text link. It looks funny in with the buttons.

Update update: I'm going to try a different file, with and without a link. There, now render!

no link

link

Shit!!

Okay, forget it, I'll work on this more later. Whoever can explain how the xorn image worked and everything else didn't, and how I fix it, gets...I don't know what you'll get, but it'll be nice. But it's gotta be fixed first. And I gotta go make something to eat.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 02:41 AM | Comments (0)

October 19, 2003

Musical Memes

I figured I'd give this one a go...it's If... Doesn't look like it's been updated in a little while, but maybe the person just went on vacation or something. Or, on second thought, since clicking on the "post comments" link gives me the same error message I got when the database was down, maybe they're having the same problems the Snarkypants site had and can't update.

If you could have a servant come to your house every day for just one hour, what would you have them do?

Do the dishes, vacuum, file papers and clean the bathroom as needed. That would be a little slice of heaven. If they had time left over they could alphabetize my herbal and vitamin supplements.

Think I'll do Behind the 8-Ball today. [This may very well become its own blog quite soon, so be on the lookout for that.]

Here are the answers that the wise and mystic 8-Ball has deigned to bestow on us mortals:

1. Cannot predict now

2. Very doubtful

3. As I see it yes

4. It is certain

5. Signs point to yes

Here're my questions [post, or link back to, yours in the comments section if you like]

1. Is Soundgarden ever gonna get back together?

2. Well, how about Floyd?

3. Damn. Well, how about this: am I gonna be single forever?

4. hm. Will I be better off that way?

5. Oh, that's all right then. Is our ISO program gonna crash and burn like every other ill-fated project we've tried to haul off the ground?

Yeah, that's about what I thought...

It's nice out. I should go for a walk.

Ha ha. I need a nap, I've spent more hours working OT this weekend than sleeping. Maybe this afternoon. Same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Celebrity WTF for the day: After leaving a string of broken-up bands [Pumpkins; Hole, whose bassist he borrowed for SP's last tour a couple years after writing for Celebrity Skin, and which fell apart soon after; Zwan, which only made one damn record] in his wake, Billy Corgan is now reading his poetry for people. I'd provide a link, but the browser choked on Rolling Stone's cumbersome site and damn near cost me this whole entry, so I'm not gonna try looking for it just now. It's in the Johnny Cash issue. I always thought BC was a decent lyricist but a much much better composer, so all I have to say is WTF???

An even bigger WTF is that in the photo in the RS item, he's wearing a shirt and tie, like he just came from the office. What the flying fortified four-way fuck is that?? First it was the Hendrix/Morrison look, then it was the classic alt-rock look, then it was the Pinhead/Catholic priest look, now it's the Office Space look. I give up trying to figure this man out. And I feel sorry for anybody who has to figure out what the hell to buy him for Christmas. He must have bitchin' garage sales, though...

I'm gonna go set up my new lava lamp. Ta.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 11:59 AM | Comments (0)

October 18, 2003

New in the Sidebar!

I've decided to [try to] add another division to the sidebar of the blog, called the Stocks. These are all going to be e-mail addresses, Yahoo ID's or URL's of people who have sent spam to me or to this blog, whether it's spam comments, camwhore offers, Viagra offers, or what have you. Information will remain in the sidebar for public [as public as this place ever gets] ridicule until a request is made to remove it. All requests to remove information from the sidebar will be honoured. However, I'm not going to go back and delete references I might have made to these people in a blog entry, unless I'm threatened with litigation, in which case I will back down like the spineless puss that I am.

So that's it, folks; just one more passive-aggressive behind-the-back flipoff in the war against spam. But don't it feel gooooood?

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 06:16 AM | Comments (0)

October 17, 2003

Veddy intedesting...

A frabdapulously Freudian Friday Five.
if daisies are your
1. Name five things in your refrigerator.
Penicillin.
Acidophilus bifidus.
Chicken.
Crud.
A mysterious white plastic grocery bag that I'm afraid to open.
favourite flower
2. Name five things in your freezer.
Salmon.
Stir-fry vegetables.
Spinach.
Miso.
Blueberries.
keep pushing up
3. Name five things under your kitchen sink.
More crud.
Empty milk jugs.
Kilz.
Trash bags.
Empty jars.
those miles per hour
4. Name five things around your computer.
Me.
Books.
Papers.
Clutter.
Air.
burmashave
5. Name five things in your medicine cabinet.
Witch hazel.
Preparation H.
Styling gel.
Glitter.
Calamine lotion.

I actually like these questions. I wouldn't have expected ones like this. I keep trying to think of ones to submit, but I can never come up with any, which, I suppose, is why I like coming up with answers [or rather, being a lazy-ass and letting the 8-ball do it] and having other people write the questions...which nobody has actually done so far except me, but then that just makes me more special than you. :)

I'm not gonna have a set day for Behind the 8-Ball until either one makes itself readily available or somebody suggests one. So far, nobody even seems to want to do the damn thing except Lisa, who has expressed an interest but hasn't done it to my recollection.

And like I said, since the suggestions that were given to me for getting pictures to render involve going through and changing a lot of crap so that it's even more incoherent and unreadable than normal HTML, and since the tendons in my hands are sore and my brain is completely scrambled, the few of you who actually read this instead of accidentally stumbling over here looking for underage hobbit pr0n with sharks will just have to be content for now with whatever text I can hammer out before my ligaments lock up for the day.
Plus whatever I decide to sneak between the lines.
And now I have to go scrape up something for dinner, which is gonna be a challenge considering I haven't been to the store in about 2 weeks.

Til next sign...same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Thing I'd like to test explosives on for the day: These. One question: Why?

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:48 AM | Comments (0)

October 16, 2003

The News In Briefs

The elusive 210 found its way onto the scale display. This is officially the thinnest I have been since 1996. It's been a long hard fight from my max of 245 in 1997, but it's worth it. I'm gonna treat myself. Don't know what with, but I'm gonna treat myself.

I'm having small hormonal meltdowns. I know they're hormonal because I'm enraged and offended at everything, I take it out on everything and everybody in sight, and then later I'm a weeping wreck--my classic PMS pattern, which goes all the way back to junior high. Also, my chin looks like Baghdad again [even though the rest of my face is clear--estro-zits for sure] and everything reminds me of sex, which is annoying.

It's fucking cold in here. The furnace is on too.

I have overtime this weekend. Hopefully I'll be able to keep my shit together and not do the skin-coming-off-the-face-so-there's-nothing-but-the-skull-and-orange-light-coming-from-the-hair thing at anybody.

You know what'd be a really great Halloween costume? Either find a bunch of fake snakes and make a wig from them, or get some fake snake heads and put your hair in cornrows and stick the heads on the ends, and go as Medusa.

If any college-age men are reading, Yahoo me. I could use a new chew toy. My old one ran away. :(

Even just getting a helmet, some armour and a sword and going as Athena would kick ass. Or getting a big ibis mask and going as Thoth. Now that would rule. Except how would you drink anything? hm...maybe you could have a straw built into the beak.

Yes, a helmet and a sword would be very comfy. Be tough finding DDD armour, though.

They need to make something that increases circulation to your extremities without irritating your stomach.

It's gonna be a while before I even attempt to dink with image files. My hands are very cold because of the shitty heat in this place, and I signed up to work 2 overtime shifts as a machine operator this weekend, so I won't be up to a whole hell of a lot of typing. Time to re-learn how to type in gloves...

According to a bunch of quizzes I took, I'm brown, submissive and emotionally mature.

Here's a story about weenie rolls in Chile. [Not for work.]

Also in the news...eh, just go here. Look for the story about the guy shooting the lobster.

And they now make Get Out Of Hell Free cards. Since I work in hell, I wonder if the boss will accept them as vacation days...

I'm outta here. Ta-ta...

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Posted by Frida Peeple at 11:22 AM | Comments (0)

October 15, 2003

I think I've had just about enough.

Don't know when the next entry will be. Stay tuned. Or not.

I need a place to discharge some of my negativity, but I'm not sure that posting it for everybody else to absorb is very good for anybody.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 07:55 AM | Comments (0)

October 13, 2003

testing for image files...

k, it's a gif now...

Can anybody see the image? Or the Saturday Scruples button and the pink jolly roger LiveJournal link button in the sidebar?
also testing invisible text
No? Didn't think so. Doesn't show up for me either.
this seems to work, though
damn. sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 09:58 AM | Comments (0)

More Or Less Archives

The archives are back, but you have to go back from October to the month you want. And the comments still don't work on them, for some reason I can't fathom. And the four duplicate entries [the blog equivalent of having your skirt tucked into your undies] are still there, and since I didn't put the archives back, I don't know how the hell they got there or how to delete those extra three entries, WHICH WAS THE START OF THIS WHOLE CHICKENFUCKING MESS IN THE FIRST PLACE. Well, I do know--Mark put them there, and I'm very grateful to him. :) This has been a very difficult time with a lot of confusing stuff to have to wade through, and he's been very patient and helpful in trying to get stuff back the way it should be.

And the trackback pings don't work right, and the program keeps bitching at me about it. Fine, I just won't ping the goddamn thing anymore, ya whining piece of shit.

I'm gonna go look at the index page and cry again. YES, I'M A COMPLETE PUSS ABOUT MY BLOG, SO SHUT UP.

Thank you all for your patience.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 02:07 AM | Comments (0)

October 12, 2003

Well, fuck it.

Can't upload picture files and get them to render, can't get the archives to come up, can't link directly to an entry. Go ahead, click on something in the Stacks or Previously. See what you get.

I give up, folks. It's busted. I leave it in the hands of MT support. I can't understand what they're talking about half the time, but oh well.

Here's a couple pagan comic strips to keep you occupied: zing boink

They're by different people, but the second guy swears he didn't rip the first guy off and actually has his blessing. So, two good South-Park-style pagan comix. Enjoy. I'm gonna go cry now.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 12:03 PM | Comments (0)

You wanna know why? Because I'm...

An excerpt from an e-mail I sent explaining my conniption. [You know, I never used to feel the need to explain my conniptions. I must be losing it for good.]

This week [since Monday] I dumped my therapist, had 3 teeth filled, got
turned down for that job I applied for, and received 5 bills totalling about
$340. So if it seems like I'm having a meltdown, I'm really sorry and I never
meant to take it out on you.

Actually, it should have been taken out on somebody, preferably the person who decides the income limits for energy assistance grants.

Anyway, there will soon be links in the sidebar not only to the Saturday Scruples, but also to my LiveJournal. If I don't post here for several days, look for me there.

[Update: I have the buttons up and the links are live, but the images won't render. Apparently something is still fucked up.]

It's good to be home.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

lyric for the day:
well i made my bed of cut roses
by understanding
that the cause it just comes first
w/ my mrs. jesus
the gospel changes meaning if
you follow john or paul
& could you ever let it be
the mary of it all

--Tori, "Mrs. Jesus," Scarlet's Walk

Posted by Frida Peeple at 01:36 AM | Comments (0)

October 11, 2003

Scruplesssss...

First off, I just want to say that it sorta sucks when you can hear two people screaming but you can't make out what they're arguing about. Apparently, either somebody just quit at the cafe downstairs, or the cafe owners are having marital issues. I couldn't tell which. Damn.

I decided to try another Saturday meme. When I find out what the dillio is with uploading image files, I'll slap a button on the page. Til then, here's the link:

Saturday Scruples

1. At the local grocer, you see an elderly woman shoplift bacon. Do you tell the grocer?
Nope. She's probably on a fixed income. A teenager, yeah [unless they looked homeless], but not a little old lady. And even if she's a klepto...really, how much can an old lady steal? If I had the cash, I might go up to her and offer to buy her the bacon. Accepting charity is a blow to the pride, but it can't be as bad as having to steal must be.

2. Your century old church is an architectural treasure but the congregation is declining. Developers offer $20 million and a sanctuary in the office tower they want to build. Do you accept?
I don't go to church. On the other hand, office towers are fugly. I'd tell them to go to hell, and just sell my regular house, disband the congregation and move into the church if I was running low on funds. Hey, if it's an architectural treasure, I could even offer tours! 20 mil is a lot, but I really don't wanna see more eyesore crackerbox office buildings.

3. A co-worker needs to leave early and asks you to punch her time card when you leave. Do you do it?
Depends on who she is and what the chances are of me getting caught. I'd rather not, and someone who really considered me a friend wouldn't ask me to cheat for them, but if it was somebody who was gonna give me a hard time if I didn't do it, I just might.

While I'm at it, I think I'll do last week's, too.

1. You feel you're underpaid. Do you still give your job 100%?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
What do you think?

2. You wrote a brilliant essay but only got a C. A friend repeated the professor's lecture and got an A. Next time, do you echo the professor's view?
No. I'd try to get a different professor.

3. A friend (or family member) is in dire financial straits. Do you offer him/her a lone?
A lone what? Oh, a loan. Things are tough all over, mate. If I had any money, I sure would offer a loan, but not the way things are now--nothing to give.

Okay, that's done.

Whoever stayed on after the argument has evidently decided that the most constructive way of dealing with the issue is to turn the cafe's television on very, very loud. If I was able to stand the noise right now, I'd crank my stereo. Normally I'd be afraid of disturbing the customers, but I think TV would do an excellent job of that all on its own. What's more, I doubt there are any customers down there. [If there were before, there ain't now!] That could have been the subject of the argument.

Anyway...

Yeah, there's vile cursing in the previous entry. No, I'm not deleting it. I'm going to go take my Topamax and drink my water and try to flush the rest of this damn MSG out of my system so my temper calms down. Salsa-flavoured Doritos are absolutely scrumptious, but really, I should have known better.

sbt/sbc

Posted by Frida Peeple at 03:45 PM | Comments (0)

Yes, I know everything's gone.

I will try to get it back as soon as I've found someone to punish for this, preferably with a long and horrible death.

I've been posting at LiveJournal in the interim, but haven't been able to get into the blog here to add a link to it, for the same reason I couldn't get in and add new entries or delete the 4 dupe entries that got stuck on there--namely, some cockblister fucked up the database and it is now gone.

I really, truly want to murder someone for this. This can't be an accident.

Just go read my damn LiveJournal until somebody gets back to me about why I can't upload pictures to this cocksucker. I'm going to go have a conniption now.

same bitch time, same bitch channel...

Update: Okay, maybe I don't have to upload pictures to this cocksucker, at least not yet. All my buttons seem to be there. That saves me some work.

Posted by Frida Peeple at 02:14 PM | Comments (2)