Paying Penance with Randomness

I usually have a bit of time at work to do some websurfing, and of course I have my usual list of sites that I check daily. Oh hell, let’s not beat around the bush – I have a TON of time to websurf and write for the site. About a year ago when I started with my current company, I was doing ten times the work I do now and was paid considerably less. Then a better position in another department opened which I applied for and was hired, and now I have a better title and more money although I do a whole lot less. Figures, doesn’t it? It’s very Office Space. The guy I now work for is one of those last minute people, which isn’t too big of a deal except that he’s very picky about details. As in, after I scramble to put together a last minute proposal and it needs to go to compliance right then or it’s not going to make it on time, he wants me to change the font size one up on half of the proposal. This week is one of those weeks where a lot needs to get done and he’s waited until the last possible week to do it.

And that’s why you haven’t seen anything on the site in the last day or so. This bothers me because when I go to my favorite sites I like to see something to read, even if it’s five minutes of crap that I have no interest in. My job leaves me a lot of spare time, and when you’re on your third day of having nothing to do, you appreciate the dumbest ways to spend your time because it keeps you from thinking about how bored you are. No, don’t email me your work. I’m not that bad off, really.

For the past few nights I’ve been working late, which is fine because sometimes it has to be done, but of course I just happened to have plans those days. It’s not a huge deal, but frustrating. I told a friend that I was sending him something in the mail earlier in the week, but I didn’t want to send it UPS because they’re expensive; on the other hand, I can’t get home before the post office closes. That’s the annoying thing about working – every service the working person needs also operates on normal business hours. So if you’re working an 8:00 – 5:00 job, everyone will be closed by the time you leave work. Tonight I ended up having to work late again, the box was still sitting in the dining room wanting to leave the house, but hulk was coming over for dinner and I couldn’t send it.

Why was hulk coming over, you ask? Because he was going to eat a LOAF OF BREAD for dinner. Yeah, I don’t know either, so don’t ask. I thought that was horrible, so we fed him. At least we’re coming closer to solving the problem of why he’s so pissy all the time. We did meet a little over the site and we kicked around some good ideas that you’ll be seeing soon.

At any rate, for those of you who need something a little random to read, here it is – Halffull-lite:

Someone is making another Heroes of Might and Magic game, and I wanted to write an article about that as I am a huge fan of the original games. If you didn’t know, it’s a strategy game and they’re fairly old. The company, 3DO, folded after Heroes IV came out. I didn’t play IV because I was told that it sucked, but I loved the first three. But before I wrote about it, I wanted to do some research. So, I went to the Gamestop at the local mall yesterday afternoon to find the Platinum Edition, which has the first three games plus all of the expansions. I think I bought it for $29.99, but that was a while ago. So I go into the Gamestop and there’s only one guy working there, and he’s busy playing a game on one of the demo stations with a customer. He doesn’t even see me. I can’t find the game, he’s obviously a useless tool because I could have stolen half the store and he never would have known, so I leave. This afternoon I went back to the mall for something and I was walking by the store again – and the same guy is working in there, and he’s still playing the same game at the demo station with another customer. His shirt was all wrinkled and his hair was messed up, so I think maybe he stayed there all night playing.

Speaking of retarded people in customer service positions, this weekend I went into a Taco Hell for the first time in maybe ten years. There was a huge line and I could have sworn the girl working the register was in a coma, except that she was talking. Sorry, did I say “working” the register? I meant standing there, staring blankly at it while drooling slightly out of the corner of her mouth. Anyway, redshift and I get up to the counter, and since the menu doesn’t have any pictures, redshift asks her what was in a “chicken ranchero taco.” The girl stares back at him for the longest, most painful minute I have ever endured, as she stood there, trying to think of what was inside the taco. I could actually smell the smoke. After a minute, she says, “Uh… there’s… uh… chicken…” Another long, painful pause and more smoke, “And sauce…” She stops again, thinking hard, looking really constipated, “And… lettucedoyouwantone?” She ran that last part together so fast, we figured all that thinking really must have hurt. Redshift was staring her down with a look on his face that said, “You are wasting valuable oxygen,” while I was just dying to shout out, “Thanks, dumbass!” But I didn’t, because redshift is convinced that if you complain about your food, the cooks will do something nasty to it. When we go out to eat and the waiter asks, “How is everything?” The correct response is, “Great!” because otherwise they will put Drano in your next glass of Pepsi or something. I think he gets it from his mom because she has the same philosophy about food, and she’s also got a few more ideas that I find rather charming.

Redshift’s mom is the sweetest person on earth. I often wish that I could be more like her, because she is literally the nicest person I have ever met. In fact, I think there’s a law somewhere that if you make her cry, you’ll automatically go to hell. But she’s got some quirks, even more strange than the restaurant thing. Like, she’s paranoid about the number 6. She doesn’t buy bananas that have 6 to a bunch. If she can find 7, that’s ideal because 7 is the good number. But if there are only 6, she’ll rip one off so that there are only 5.

Then again, one of my friends pointed out how weird I am. I live in an apartment (as you’ve heard me bitch about) and for a while, some family in the building was leaving their laundry in the washing machine or dryer for days. There were a couple of times when they left it sitting there for an entire week. That really bugs me because I don’t want to touch other people’s clothes. Especially their underwear – disgusting. I don’t care that it’s just come out of the wash and it’s supposedly clean, I want nothing to do with strange underwear. So if I’m absolutely forced to touch it (taking it out of the dryer and putting it on top) I’ll wash my hands afterwards, before grabbing my laundry. I don’t want someone else’s underwear on my hands. Et tu, Fruit of the Loom?


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