I should spell check more when I'm angry

I'm still not going to fix that last post. You see it ate half my blog when I tried to do a spell check at the end. So I guess I'm going to have to just leave the shitty typing in from now on.

I know I've been gone forever. So much has happened I can't even begin to write it all down. I guess I'll just hit you with my highlights.

I'm a Fucker. Yep. That was what one of my best budds called me the other night at 2:00 AM on my machine. I was a little offened by it until I came to terms that he might be right. Flash back to two weeks prior. My friend N-Word (nothing to do with race, get off my back) and I were at a little party together. We both met a girl there within seconds of me breaking the ice with her.

All my friends suck at talking to girls. Admittedly they are all better looking then me. For some reason unless they're drunk they can't approach a girl. I'm the opposite. I figure since I have nothing to offer I obviously have nothing to lose. It all makes sence to me. So my job is allways to go in make some chit chat then jump out of the way or dive on the hand grenade of the other group. It's a role I do duitifully. If the girl is hot and my buddy has a chance there is no standard too low for me to stoop to in Wing Man world.

We had a great night both talking with her. Now here is where things get akward. She got both out numbers before we left. On the ride home N-Word tells me that he thinks he really likes this girl. I don't have a problem with this because she is 1. Hot and 2. Paid attention to him this evening.

After about a week thinks get down right gross. It seems she actually wants to get to know people. She isn't too impressed with N-Words love at first site, I'm the best man in the universe, puppy dog act. Infact she tells me that she has a hard time even talking to him because everything is either about him wanting her or how every girl should want him. I guess this is as good a time as any to mention that she has been calling me often and we stay on the phone for hours. We find eachother very easy to talk too. Now I'm not saying I'm interested. After all we should all be able to agree that I'm mostly dead inside. However I'm not, not interested. I'm also not, not, not admitting to any of this.

This epic story climaxes one night after we all go out drinking. As I'm the best drunk driver it was my job%2

Fuckoing bull shit mother fucking site!!! Well it fucked off with the rest of my post and I don't fell like tying again for hours so this is all you get. If you wanted more tell blogger to stop being a fucking fuck fucktard.

Greetings from the Swiss Alps

Holy jolly time of year my ass! I’m sitting here at work. It’s 8:40 Am. I just got a call from my boss saying that he will be in when he can, but hopefully they will close the college before he leaves the house. Oh yeah did I forget to mention it’s been snowing here for the last twelve hours. Right now it’s freezing rain but the prediction is back to snow as soon as we get some regular rain. They figure that snow will last another 12 hours or so. Why the hell didn’t they close the college? What is their fucking problem? I bet they made the decision to stay open while drinking margaritas and fudge packing each other. Who are “they” any ways?

I’ve been awake for just over an hour now and I’ve been through the whole range of male emotions*. This is going to be taxing day.

Let me tell you about it! I got up at near 7:30 because when my alarm went off at 7:00 I figured holy shit I’m tired. Look at the size of that morning wood. What the hell is that awful taste in my mouth? Oh for sure the college is closed today. Then immediately fell back asleep in a powerful way. When I did wake up again a half hour later, I turned on the radio to listen to all the closings in my area. It literally took ten minutes to get through all the crap they had to list. My college? Nope, not on the list. This is where I put on my game face. I went to the washroom looked at myself in the mirror and gave my self this pep talk.

JH = Me MM = Morning Me

JH- You get up go out there and be the best damn thing you are all damn day and make me proud.
MM- Fuck no it’s cold, lets quit work. I’ll give you back morning wood? Come on, go back to bed.
JH- Nope, I have to go. And you coming on to me with your sexual advances are not only disgusting but also uncalled for.

I took the morning wood to work with me anyways. You can’t play their game. I went out the front door and slid down the stairs. There was so much snow that instead of six steps I had one long ski hill. I miss judged the location of the first step and caught it with only the edge of my heel, which started me careening down the stairs. I bet to someone looking on it was hilarious. Me with a look of death and sleep plastered on my face. Arms whirling around furiously to try to gain some form of balance. Feet slamming into the snow desperately trying to find a flat place to plant but only finding more step edges. Did I mention I have yet to find my boots from last year? So I did all this in low cut pair of Vans. They are so comfy for work but so unappealing full of ice and snow then eventually water. The car was covered in snow and freezing rain. I’m so glad I have been putting of buying a snowbrush this year.

I started the car and went about the odious job of cleaning snow off with my hands. I didn’t know snow could migrate up ones sleeve, but good God it’s an awful feeling when it ends up in your armpit. The car was started and clean, I had snow in my shoes, up my pant legs and up my sleeves. It was quarter after eight (I start work at eight) and I was ready to roll out. I had locked the keys in the car. I don’t know how it happened. I actually thought ahead and made sure to leave the door unlocked. I only have one set of keys to that car and they were in it while it purred. Commence swearing at an alarming level. I went back up the ski slope stairs to my house called the Auto Club and told my parents about the disaster. Still swearing up a storm. Back out the door, still swearing. I hop in “the winter beater” or as I like to call it my car. The drive was actually fun. There is nothing quite like taking twenty minutes for an eight minute drive. The car filling up with smoke because of and oil leak that drips onto my exhaust manifold. At least it was cold enough that a fire didn’t break out. Again. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have smoke billowing out from under your hood while a helpful and incredibly cute college girl asks if there is “like something wrong with your car?” The answer, very! Very fucking embarrassing. Well I have to get back to work so I’ll guess I’ll cut it off here.

Oh yeah!
* The Full Range Of Male Emotion
Angry
Hungry
Horny
That’s all of them. Don’t kid yourself and pretend there are more. You’re either feeling one of those three or feeling none of them. There is no middle ground.
Later

Posting from the underground

Honestly, I wrote two whole entries on what I'm having for lunch? Wow that is some riveting information there! Later I'll write about how it feels to pee. I'm just so furious today. At least it gives me something to actually piss and moan about. So without any further distraction here is my bitch of the week.

When I got the job I am doing now I inherited a computer and office. The computer had some anit-spy ware components installed on it and the former owner said I should run them every now and then. I have been for a year now and the small amount of spy ware and/or virus have multiplied. It got to the point where it was getting in the way of my working. I called my help desk and was told that it would be no problem to clear things up and get me running smoothly again. There was just one problem; they had to get permission from my administrator to poke around at my system.

Queue Satan's theme music. After refusing to cooperate with tech support she eventually decided to come down and fix the problem at ground zero. This was my first chance to meet her. To put I mildly I was "tad curious" over who this woman was screaming, "stop using the Internet, I don't have time to baby sit all of you." After she left it was explained to me that the “She Bitch” in question was my administrator. Although in theory I liked her solution the fact that %75 of my job requires me to use various third party web sites made me doubt her expertise.

Here is where things really start to go bad for me. I figured that I should be allowed to do my job and have a functioning computer. I know I'm such a fucking radical. Yep just me, Sadam, and Bin Laden all hunkered down in a bunker ranting on about American pigs, UN snooping, and LAN Administrators. The three things keeping us down. I just didn't know when to quit. It seems asking for the tools to do your job is way out of line. Especially if it shows that a certain administrator doesn't do her job.

On Wednesday some one from tech support cam down and picked up my computer. They asked me if "the Bitch Overlord" had been down yet to back up my data like she said she would. My answer was to hold up a small stack of floppy disks I had done myself, roll my eyes and mutter "yeah she got right on that". I got my computer back yesterday. I was thrilled. I had been unable to work for the better half of Wednesday and the morning on Thursday. My machine booted up, I was so pleased to see Windows XP show up. I even went so far as to thank my newfound Tech buddy.

Things get worse. He tells me not to thank him for what they had to do. The "Bitch Queen" has requested I have the strictest level of idiot proofing available. I can't even change my desktop picture. My mouse that my boss got me a few months ago. Oh it's so beautiful, cordless, optical, eighty-seven buttons, a butler, and the ability to orally satisfy me. Yeah none of it works. The best part is that I can’t do my job in this computer. My boss has been pulling double duties. He’s doing my job and his right now while we try to find her. It doesn’t look like she’s on this plane anymore.Could one of you out in Internet land mutter that you sell your soul for a jelly donut? I’m just saying she would probably appear and you could ask her to get her ass back here and fix my God damn computer. Actually send that donut back with her, I’m kind of hungry.

I don't understand

I’ve had some times since my last post to find a few things that bother me. I think I’ll only go into detail about one of them for now.

Financial woes. How is it that I get paid every two weeks and take home a modestly good amount of money, that my account balance on the Friday I get paid can read $46.27? Is it just me, or does that not sound right. Let’s go over the budget together shall we. I live at home with my parents (I know it makes me a loser but what am I to do) so my rent is zero. I own an old car so my loan payment is zero. I have some outstanding credit card debt from when I lived high for a year while refusing in any way to work. I know that was dumb but honestly how can that put me into this horrible a financial state. I even took my stupid credit card debt and consolidated it into one monthly payment. It is great but where does the rest of my money go.

Lunch. Yep that’s right breakfast and lunch at work. Because I’m such a lazy slob I don’t wake up early enough to eat breakfast at home. So I end up buying a coffee and muffin or bagel at work. That comes to around three dollars a day. Then for lunch I don’t make anything the night before so my tab for that comes out to around ten or eleven bucks. I buy the damn most expensive pop or bottle of juice I can find in our cafeteria. I then buy an over priced pita wrap or burger from one of the supremely bad for you food vendors. If you do the math with me that comes to around three hundred dollars a month. Holy shit you say? Well that’s an understatement from what I said the first time I did the math. That is atrocious. That doesn’t include the expenses I incur going out for beers or for dinner. None of my socializing with members of the opposite sex and in general trying to look well off. No wonder I’m piss poor.

I do have a solution for the next two weeks I will do my best to prepare and bring myself, from home a delicious and not in any way dangerous lunch. I don’t know for sure how this will turn out. I can’t make any promises but to quote from someone more funny then me. High comedy.

Lunch Monday

I brought some left over pizza from the weekend. I think it's dead. I nuked it for around 7 years and didn't in any way melt any of the cheese on top. I did however turn every last bit of crust into million-degree rubber. It's funny really to put something in your mouth and feel the cold hard cheese on the roof of your mouth. Then the searing hot burning sensation from the crust on your tongue. It is so completely unnatural feeling that you don’t even know your dying. Oh but you my friends. The ouch sensors, as they burn away shout a warning deep inside your brain which when it finally registers makes you spit out that foul attempt at lunch. I waited for a few minutes and tested the crust it was down to a reasonable temperature but was left so rock hard and inedible that I had to dip it in barbeque sauce. I would have normally liked that but since I couldn’t taste still from the branding my tongue received earlier it was flavorless and poorly textured.

Lunch 1 James 0

The Break Up.

So the eventual but unavoidable conclusion finally came to the relationship I was having. The lady friend took it hard but honestly, she should have seen this coming. I’ve been as mean as humanly possible. I’ve ignored phone calls, hit on her friends and even had boys nights out where she knew I was picking up girls for my “single” friends. And although it’s true I didn’t pick up girls for myself. (Well only occasionally.) She should have still been filled with rage, called me a dirty liar and told me to fuck off. Sadly she didn’t. If I could find it in my heart to care about this girl I think I would but that spark just isn’t there.

Now maybe it’s my fault for going back out with her as part of a huge revenge plot. In my defense. I’M A GUY. We’re not known for being overly bright. The long story short is that early on in our relationship The Lady Friend cheated on me. I was my plan to continue dating her until such time as she tells the world she loves me, or the birth of our third child. After five months of faking it and being a shity boyfriend I realized I didn’t want to crush her. Honestly it’s so hard staying bitter for that long a time. I though it would be best if I just let her go. In the same way you release a fish back into a pond. I wanted to get my thumb in her mouth and wriggle her back and forth until she was revived and dove back into the depths to avoid contact with mankind again. Needless to say when you tell a girl that you don’t have feelings for her and then try to jam your thumb into her mouth, it can only go poorly for you.

So I’m a Deuch Bag. I knew that along time ago. I’m shocked to hear that she only realized it on Sunday.

I have never been happier. Well that’s not true. It’s just that I’ve been giddy all week and it because of the break up I tell you. I feel so free. If this isn’t a sure sign that we were not meant to be I don’t know what is. Thanks for all the good times Brit. I will never forget the way you squirm when I nibble on your nipples. I just wish you had of been conscious.

Feeling Groovy...

So a lot has happened since my last blog. On Sunday I broke it off with the lady friend in question. And I feel great. For the first time ever I started writing my ideas out before blogging and posting them. I hope it will make me sound less crazy and more professional. Needless to say it has become a work in progress. I'll get it up soon.

This is also my first blog from home, so I'll have to keep it short. I'm connected to the net now but it could go down at any time. The hamster I have running on my mini power wheel is starting to get tired.

When things turn my way they turn like a (I can't think of anything that turns well right now so I'll just fake it. I can fix this all in the rewrite) really good turning thing. I got an e-mail from a girl I picked up in a bar. Oh I feel like such a player right now. This isn't a ego trip. This is probably the only non hideously ugly girl I've ever talked to, danced with and had the pleasure of making out with on the dance floor of a club until they turned on the lights and told me to go home. It was awesome.

I played it really cool, in that I called her the next day and spent two hours on the phone with her. I think I said every dumb thing I've ever said my whole life to her that day. I made sure she would run away from me forever and possibly get a restraining order. It worked, I hadn't heard from her in two weeks. Until tonight. Yeah that's right I got an e-mail from her. It was full of insightful things she could only have know if she had paid attention to our conversation two weeks ago. Needless to say I'm giddy like a school girl right now. Hence my need to post. For your reading pleasure I will attach my response to this entry so you all can see how blessed I am when it comes to being interested and breezy.

Hey, nice to hear from you. What are you taking at night again? Either I didn't ask before or I totally forgot. Maybe you don't understand my opinion of dogs. I would for sure go on a walk with one. I would just never own one. Well maybe if I lived in the country and wanted to keep animals away. Ok so let's agree that I would never own an indoor dog, but can for sure respect the working class dog. Also dogs who wear clothes and sit at the dinner table need to be kicked. Not by me! Just by other tougher more macho dogs. Dogs named "Rocco" or "bitey" or ummm "big Tony".

I know it's so playfull and cute. Hey if anyone reads this send me some kind of feedback. Come on! If you don't I'll send "Big Tony" around.