the first web log I ever fell in love with belongs to an Angel. I came across this angelic spot circuitously. I was being an ass and I needed the Official Rules of Yankee Swap, which by the way can be found at http://www.yankee-swap.net/. A copy of said rules were also posted on a blog, I live in a pumpkin shell and there I live very well but this was my first exposure to logs on the web, well this guy had links and his links had links and one of the links was to this future favorite spot. A lot of the logs I read were a lot of fuck you, fuck this blog, fuck me, fuck the color blue, fuck this, fuck that, you suck, I suck, we all suck together. What first caught my eye were the pictures pirated from the Maxx comic book series, I was all like holy shit I have that! Plus she's wears a corset to boot, a corset and roller-skates, how cool is that? (psst..it's the coolest). She tells of her adventures and has photos to prove it and every once and awhile she poses a question, a question that requires thinking with depth, a question that reveals something of herself. The questions make me realize what an intellectual misfit I have become, makes me wonder if I ever was as smart as I thought previously.
One day she says something, something I worried about, something I worried would change the postings. So, I sent an email using the info there in provided. My email said something like, you probably don't give a care but I'm a fan. She said she did care, which surprised me a bit. Then she asks a question on her the site, it was probably rhetorical but I wrote her the answer anyway. So, then I felt guilty, I'm engaging with someone who knows nothing of me but I know little bits about her, that didn't seem right to me so I wrote things down, wrote them down right here in this blog.
The blogging thing originally was to try and level the playing field for my own sake and also so I would have a reason to learn HTML, but I found out that some of the stuff I would write I didn't truly believe after I thought about it, then I started writing for me. Writing all sorts of things, things only I would care to type, then I got an email, an email from someone I didn't recognize. My first reaction was 'oh, shit someone is reading this crap', actually, that's still my reaction, but I was concerned that anyone reading on this site really should be reading something better than the likes of this. My solution, add links, so I ask my first love (regarding blogs) can I throw up a link, she says sure, I have a couple URL's but I prefer if you use this one and types out url all nice and neat. I'm thinking great, splendid, golden, sweet, thank you, thank you, thank you. Of course, I played it cool and kept all that to myself and then ended up using a different url than the one she recommended because I wasn't paying attention.
SKIP TO THIS PART
The moral of this long ass boring as hell story, I truly hope you skipped to the middle if you are reading this now, is if you are talking to me and I look like I might not be focusing, or if my reply is different than you expected, you may just want to thump my head, melon style, just to make sure I'm listening. And, I mean no disrespect when my attention strays, it could be that my glee gets in the way.
IGNORE EVERTHING ELSE
...
hmmm...is hell really boring? As in boring as hell. I think not, I'm sure it's not pleasant but there has got to be a lot going on.
...
Dole orange juice bites, end of that story.
...
Well folks, I'm afraid the wedding is off, I knew about it Wednesday but only had the courage to write something now. Lady G was by the office on Wednesday and I walked her to the elevator, I would like to say the walk was because I'm the consummate gentleman but it's because she mentioned to me before that this is what I should do, sometimes I need a nudge, the walk is fine by me, I enjoy the extra time. So we're at the elevators and she says we could have had lunch together if she wasn't delayed waiting to talk to a city councilor. The new plan is for her to go to Wendy's to get the chicken strips, which are nice, but they can't compare to KFC's crispy strips. I tell such to Lady G and she disagrees. I do a "say what?" and she repeats that Wendy's is better that KFC. Well, that's a deal breaker in my book. Her judgement was subject anyway, look who she hangs out with.
Or is it look whom? 'Looks whom' seems stupid but I think it's correct but I refuse to use it. Damnit
...
So I get an email from the former co-op that states:
Thom Kadzooks just congratulated me on my upcoming wedding and then kissed me on the cheek. He said he overheard it from you and *your supervisior*. Thanks alot, I appreciate it. Really, I do...
To which I replied:
No, thank you. That's some funny shits, if you are where I sit.
I'm here to help.
Maybe *the most senior engineer* will grab a handful of something when he congratulates you.
In my defense, *my supervisor* is the one that brought it up. I don't like talking about your wedding, it still hurts too much.
I truly feel guilty in the amount of funny I'm getting from that.
How awkward was that?
Okay, the funny wore off a bit, I'm truly sorry, I do apologize, I forget the walls have ears.
Is there anything I can do to make it up to you? I'm serious.
I will not speak of it in the future, for starts.
To which she replied:
Ya, let's NOT tell *the most senior engineer*.
I feel dirty. He just went in for it before I knew what hit me. I guess it could have been worse, he could have coped a feel or something.
It's okay, I'm just never telling you anything again.
So I wrote:
Why do I get punished? I thought we were tight?
So she wrote:
I didn't know how much I meant to you. I accept your apology and I won't hold you solely responsible for the molestation I just endured.
Me:
Thank you and I probably shouldn't mention this but you could have lied and said you only told me you were getting married to stop me from hounding you to let me see the birthmark on your lower leg.
Her:
I don't even know what to say to that. You are so weird and remember the most random stuff.
Me not knowing when to quit:
Try living in my head, what you get exposed to is only a sample of what's up there. I think it's the left leg.
Her, wishing I quit:
I am so tweaked out by you right now. I'm glad you don't work with little children. (Well, actually.... you sort of do work with children... )
Me, trying to stop the train:
I'm guessing my guess was correct.
The reason I remember is you were showing me your shoes or your socks for some reason (note to reader, this is at least five years ago). The reason is what I have forgotten. Anyway, I caught a very quick glimpse of what I thought might be a tattoo and I called you on it. You got evasive so I pressed you on it because I'm an ass (I think you keep forgetting that) and you said it was a birthmark and then I felt bad because I don't think you really wished to share that with me.
So what was etched in my mind was not to mention that again and for some reason I can remember that you were standing sideways to me showing your left foot.
I guess my decision not to mention it again would have been wise if I had actually done so.
Her, she gave up.
...
So, I'm walking about and think Mmmm... candy. Candy is a hobby of mine so I decide on the mini fruit slices, yummy, but I want to share so the plan is to get one half pound in two different bags. I step to the counter and converse with the one who cares for the candy. I say (I've cranked up the pompous-assedness):
"please Miss might I have a half pound of the mini fruit slices?"
"yes" says the candy cutie
"might I get them in quarter pound bags?" I further inquired
"We only have these sized bags" she consoles holding up a bag
"That okay just use two of them" I explain
So she fills one bag with .25 pounds and then empties half of that into the other previously unused bag. I would have just taken that but a quarter pound of candy isn't enough to share. So, I explain I would like one half pound total.
"two half pounds?" she asks
"No, two quarter pounds" noticing she's not as cute as I thought
so, somehow I end up with a quarter pound in two bags again, two eighths of a pound bags.
"Like this?" she asks presenting the bags
"Only twice as much" I say pointing to both bags.
Which worked, I have two bags of mini fruit slices that each weigh one quarter of a pound.
...
So I get back from lunch with the candy, the person I wish to give the candy to, I think I refer to her as Miss Y in here, sits with another person. I don't like giving Miss Y things without giving her neighbor anything, I think it's kinda rude, so I wait, because sneeking Miss Y the candy is still rude but at least her neighbor doesn't know it. I wait some more still no seclusion. But in the process of me checking she catches me looking, I don't know the tell I told but she meets me back at my cube and sees the two equal bags, and asks "what's this for?" I say "one's for you" to which the reply "I thought something was up" was given, "did I have that look?" asked I, "Yeah, you had that silly grin".
I am glad the guys drink while I'm playing poker with them because I don't have a poker face.
...
allmybrokenthoughts now abrokenlink was itsomethingIsaid?
...
So after work, me and my supervisor go for a couple, which we haven't done for awhile. I can't stay too long because I have this meeting at 7:30PM but I ended up having two pints of Bud Light draft. I don't know what was wrong with me today but that quart of light beer just about got me lit. The whole trip home I thought everything was funny. Particularly, Hello Kitty. Probably three years ago I gave a fellow engineer a hot pink Hello Kitty baseball cap for his birthday as a joke, and he actually got my supervisor to wear it home one day. Today that shit was funny.
Never mind me folks, I'm just entertaining myself here on the subway, yeah, I'm lit off of two beers, two light beers. That still makes me laugh, I'm a lightweight, for today at least.
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