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Holy fuck, it’s been a month and a half since I’ve updated this little waste of time. I have no excuse, except being exhausted from work… that, and I’m a lazy dick.
As most of you who read this bullshit already know, my days are hella long, but shorter than they were last Nobember. I’m up at 4:00am (commonly referred to as o’dark hundred). I leave the house just before 5:00am, get to work by 7:30am, leave work at 5:00pm, and if there’s no Asian drivers or left lane vigilantes, I’m home by 7:30pm. Bedtime rolls around at 10:00pm and I get to do it all over again in 6 hours. I hate this, but it wasn’t too bad, as open tickets in my department were usually completed by mid-afternoon. I was able to start an update during lunch, possibly complete a rough draft during the slow afternoon, and put the finishing touches on it before going to sleep. That all changed when the company that employs my sorry ass purchased an ICANN-accredited domain name registrar (as I mentioned in my April 10 update oh so long ago). My department handles all the issues from domain registrants. While things are starting to calm down, it’s still a huge drain on my time. I’ve probably spent a total of 8 hours looking at the Hosting ticket queue since the Registrar came online in late March. It feels that all my time is monopolized in the Registrar queues, which are usually filled with an assload of spam, sprinkled with a smattering of “English only from the knowledge of retarded registrants it comes from the translator.” Sometimes it’s like talking to Yoda‘s retarded European cousin, Yodaski. “Goodly English I speak not. My domain name, renew I must or expire it will.” So, I guess what I’m saying is… I have an excuse. Laziness aside, after a day at work lately, I don’t want to go near a computer… weekends are spent sleeping… and sometimes this blog feels like work, and I can’t have that.
Speaking of work, things are going swimmingly for The Company. I don’t know much about it, and I probably shouldn’t talk about it anyway… so I’ll only mention that they signed a big contract that promises to take The Company to a whole new plateau. It’ll be nice to see us grow, even if we become something resembling an aborted Comcast fetus. Maybe us indentured servants will see a modest pay increase out of it all. It sure would be nice, since the price of gas is robbing me for all I got… like a ten dollar whore in a by-the-hour no-tell motel. Fuck, I need a low interest, long term loan just to pay my share of the carpool gas… goddamn raghead terrorists and their gas-peddling pusher refineries! At least the price is dropping some… I spend $45.00 at the pump now instead of $46.30. Time to buy a Pepsi.
Funny that I mentioned fetuses, because it’s definitely fucking spring. I have a house full of parrots that are full-swing into their springtime (albeit masturbatory) humping cycle. There’s more birdy jizz in those cages than in Lindsay Lohan‘s stomach after an all night bender… and that’s a lotta jizz. Nearly every woman I know seems to be in their springtime mating cycle, too. Jesus Christ! They either just had a baby, are pregnant with a baby, want to have a baby, or being called “baby.” It’s like a fucking barnyard, man. I swear I heard Marlin Perkins narrating in my office last week. “We’ll wait here while Jim passes out some protection, and I’m not talking about the kinda of protection you can get with an insurance policy from Mutual of Omaha.”
The picture of Nirvana‘s Nevermind cover was photoshopped (although I used GIMP) by me to be a crude representation of a newborn in our office. The baby was actually a girl, but the news was the baby was “6lbs 14oz, 18″ long, 14″ head full of hair!” Now, I’m a bright young old man, and I know the 14 inches referred to the circumference of the head, but I couldn’t help think of a baby with a giant head, and a 4-inch body. It made me laugh. Speaking of Nevermind, the baby in that picture was three months old in 1991, and the parents were paid $200 for the shoot. If you want to feel old, take a look at this picture of Spencer Elden (that’s his name) in 2005. Goddamn, I’m ancient! I remember the day that CD came out! I wonder if girls giggle and want to see his wiener for comparison purposes. Punk-ass fucker probably gets more trim in a year than I’ve seen my entire life. I’m not bitter.
Is anyone sick of all the Paris Hilton coverage on every fucking news outlet on the planet? It’s absolutely incredible that her in and out and in again prison fiasco is monopolizing the headlines. The bitch was born with a gold-plated platinum spoon wedged in her face. If her last name was Green, or Smith, or Nahasapeemapetilon… and she worked at a nail salon, McDonald's, or a Kwik-E-Mart she’d be just another dumb, talentless cunt with small tits. She’d be living in a mobile home with a cocktail of cum from every mullet-wearing hillbilly in the trailer park oozing from her orifices. She literally has nothing to contribute to society. Seriously, do you think the world would miss her if she fell into a well in Midland, Texas, never to be heard from again? I say we take her, Nicole Richie, and all their socialite friends, cut off their heads, arms, and legs, toss the body parts in a bus, fill the bus with concrete, and send the whole goddamn thing into space on a collision course with the Sun. Or we could just kill ‘em.
Okay, now that I’ve probably startled the shit out of you with my overworked imagination, I’ll wrap this update up and call it published. Let’s hope it’s not another six weeks before another diatribe graces this site.
