Everybody's out to get me...

Yay! We finally got our dog!! Her racing name is WS Bright Flare, she was used to being called "Flare" so we decided to keep the name, it suits her anyway.

Here are a few pics... I have about a kajillion more but I'm too lazy to get them off the camera right now. More to come!



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Right now, it is perfect B.C. weather outside. Grey, overcast, and with a nice chilly breeze.

This weather reminds me so much of the first 17 years of my life. It's the kind of weather that makes you turn on the lights in the middle of the day, just to have some warm light in the room. Or the kind of weather that makes you fantasize about the most comfortable hoodie you ever had that you inadvertantly left at the park one day. And, I really.. reallly.. like it.

Dear Valued Customer,

You called in and I had the fortune to answer your call. You explained your ridiculous position to me, and followed it up with a stupid demand. I then explained why I could not/would not/was legally obligated not to comply with your stupid demand, and explained your alternative options.

At this point, you attempted to get your way by yelling at me/trying to charm me/being coy and flirty/acting like I was a little touched in the head. I explained again exactly what I told you in the first place, except I dumbed it down for you. Divide my IQ by yours and add ten for the number of times you forced me to restate myself.

Then, finally, you understood/gave up/got sick of arguing with me and acknowledged that you weren't getting your way and were aware of the alternative options. Against my better judgement, I asked you if there was anything else I could help you with today. You said "No..." and then proceeded to tell me the exact same problem all over again. WHY DID YOU DO THAT? WHY? DIDN'T WE JUST GO OVER THIS?

I must insist that you fist yourself, waist deep.

Signed,
Your Friendly Call Centre CSR

Last night I had a dream that I was arguing with sistermaryeris about who was a better poet, W.C. Fields or John Irving. She said Fields, I said Irving.

Yes, I am aware that neither of them are poets.

So has anyone read Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke? I did and I absolutely loved it. I've heard it described as "Harry Potter for grown-ups", but that's almost an insult, in my opinion.. and I love Harry Potter. This book just goes alot deeper... it considers political and spiritual and personal effects and ramifications of magic, etc. It's kinda like Donnie Darko, tricky to explain. It's set mostly in England, during the time of the Napoleonic Wars.

"Can a magician kill a man by magic?" Lord Wellington asked Strange.
Strange frowned. He seemed to dislike the question. "I suppose a magician might," he admitted, "but a gentleman never could."

And here's another one of my favourite passages from it, slightly longer: (not a spoiler)

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So read it! I'd highly recommend it. Or, if you've alread read it... what did you think?

I would just like to say...

FUCK YOU, LINENS'N'THINGS. Take your $7.75/hour and shove it up your stupid ass. I never have to work that shitty job ever again. Except for the next two weeks.

WhEEEEeeEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11

Well... I was sitting around in my pajama pants this morning feeling sorry for myself because of my crappy job and not being in school... when my firefly bag arrived! Then, not five minutes after I opened it, I got a call to come for an interview for a job that I've been dying to have for months now. So, the bag is already bringing me good luck!

( my cat decided to pose with the bag... )

Hrmm... there's something like eight entries on my friends page about Frienditto today. Why is everyone just finding out about it today in particular? It's been around for at least a month...

Wow. Just... wow. This has got to be the most fascinating photographic essay I've seen... well, ever.

When I was a kid I knew a guy who did way too much speed and he'd fill up all his spare time (speed addicts have alot of spare time) dumpster diving. He found some pretty incredible stuff... apparently posh clothing stores often throw out stuff they can't sell, but first they mutilate it, by cutting a huge hole in it or throwing out only one shoe of a pair. So he started wearing this stuff around.

Anyway, he had tunnels through the junk too.

*SNERK* Oh man... it's times like this that remind me why I love to caress the seedy underbelly of Livejournal.

My manager at work (mid-story): So yeah, my mom was alive during one of the World Wars...

Me: World War II?!? *in a sarcastic tone, since I know her to be around 65ish*

Manager: Um... yeah, probably... was World War II the one with the Nazis?

Me: *choke, die*

Umm... ummm... hmm. This posting every day thing is gonna be harder than I thought. Fucking hell.

Ahahaha... I just read this on a message board:

Person A: 13/m.mass wats uresa> lets make longest ever discussioN!

Person B: 12/female middle school cheerleader/near you. want to meet up? (Person B is being sarcastic, here.)

Person A: but where do u live?!?!?!? and do u hav msn yahoo or aim?? if u do andd:aaron12560@hotmail.com AIM: aaron12560 Yahoo:seniorseniorbob@yahoo.com

Person C: oh god *rolls eyes* just a warning, dont give out your location on the site, to ANYONE...your liable to end up on the news if you do, what time is it where you live? shouldnt you youngins be in bed?

Person A: omg youngins?!?!?!?!? im friken 13 u retart! so stfu and laeave lol i luv off topic!!! Oh and its 450 am


It just made me so happy, I had to share. In other news, I've decided to see if I can post in my livejournal once a day for at least one month, starting today. So, if you who are used to me posting about once every two months find that you can't handle my once per day postings, I'll understand if you defriend me... or put me on some sort of filtery thing.

!ALSO! Look at my spiffy layout! It's SUPER EMO, guyz!

Charles Baudelaire: The Flowers of Evil. You are
one of the most loved and hated poetic works.
Death and decadence are important themes for
you, but none should overlook your impressive
aesthetics, either. Deep down youre not evil at
all, you just like to play the tough guy on the
block.


Which literature classic are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

*snerk*

I made an icon of two guys fucking a watermelon. I understand that this was wrong of me.

( here it is! not work-safe. not work-safe at all. )

Anyway... I've been meaning for a long time to make a post about this site. If you're looking for a new icon, or a specific icon, it's a good place to start... all sorts of icons get posted there and it's really easy to search for a certain thing, in case you had a yen for a new GIR icon or maybe a little something with Kurt Cobain. So, yeah. Don't say I never did you any favours, because I just linked you to a great icon site AND made you an icon of two guys fucking a watermelon.

I just had this really fucked up dream and I have to get it down before I forget it.

We were having this big house party and someone got murdered in our garage. Troy was the cop's prime suspect because the person had been killed with his van and he was the only one who had keys, but he hadn't actually done it. The cops were looking for him but hadn't found him yet, and he was going to turn himself in. Most of the dream at that point was me crying and pleading with him not to go, because I was sure he would get life in prison for this murder. I just kept begging and begging him not to leave me, and to run away with me where we wouldn't be found. Then we heard police sirens coming -

And at that point I woke up. Then I fell back asleep and dreamed the rest.

We had this skeevy male roommate and he wanted to use the van... I told him he couldn't, because it was part of a police investigation. We were sitting around in the garage with Leah and Alvin. Anyway, he pulled out this gun and confessed to the murder, then he shot himself in the neck and died. We all told the cops that he had confessed, but they didn't believe us cause they thought we were just trying to save Troy, and they arrested him and took him away.

Then I woke up and fell back asleep again.

It was months later and I had not had any contact with Troy whatsoever, and I could not find out where he was. I kept writing to Amnesty International and stuff like that, because I was convinced that he was in some kind of torture gulag in South America or something. Then one day, he just came home. It turned out the cops hadn't actually thought he had committed the murder, but they wanted him for some sort of top secret think-tank and he had been in a fancy hotel somewhere cut off from everyone.

After that, it just gets kinda weird.

Our poor dear neighbours to the south... to the 55 million who voted Democrat: Canada is just about as bummed out as you are. Like Senator Kerry, we too have your backs. But remember... there are no losers, cause no matter which candidate won, you'll still be American when you wake up tomorrow.





;(

Anyone who missed Jon Stewart's little appearance on CNN's Crossfire the other night has to go to this link and download it. My love for Jon Stewart has increased 100 fold and I already had considerable love for him in the first place. Seeing him call Crossfire "partisan hackery" pretty much just made my entire year. If you pay attention to nothing else I write here, please go download this clip.

Bowtied Asshole: You're not being funny.
Jon Stewart: No, I'm not being funny. I'm not going to be your monkey.