February 21, 2012 § 16 Comments
Okay….first a question. If you like someone, you give them your number, and they call you back almost a YEAR later for the first time, how enamored are you with this guy?… Yeah, so not the way to anyone’s heart, or hell even into their pants.
This guy calls me out of the blue. We were watching a movie. I did not even remember who he was. Then he admits it’s been a while. So I think back to last year. March I think. Yeah, dude, so not cool. So, so, so not cool.
But what surprised me was how bent out of shape C got. All pissed off that I gave him my number eons ago.
I am so not a jealous person. I’ve never gotten the whole jealousy thing. Yes, C, the truth is I have *gasp* dated. I have given guys my number, and I have exes. Deal with it.
Officially it’s been over a year since I met C. And we got off to a rocky start. But I’m in now. So I think at this stage he can put jealousy away. Because instead of chuckling over a social retard together and a good night he gets to fight with me. Well done, Einstein.
Working 62 hours this week. Quite different from last year’s reading week which was marked with ridiculous amounts of alcohol, oh, yeah, and Chris.
January 31, 2012 § 4 Comments
- Auto correct fucking up my posts.
- People who yell at their kids to shut up and are louder than the kids were being.
- Telemarketers who hang up when you tell them you do not own the home. Ignoring the fact that you were fucking polite to them.
- People who take the last gas pump in the gas bar and park too far from it that no one can get passed.
- Cats who use curtains as a way to get eye level with you to gain your attention.
- Birds chirping in the morning. Why do they have to be so fucking cheerful?
- Twitter (I’m not it but I resent how it is everywhere).
- Watering plants. Needy little fuckers.
- C buys mandarin oranges everytime he goes shopping and never eats them. I have like 12 cans of mandarin oranges in my cupboard. But C will go buy more fruit before he eats those, and with them, more tins of mandarin oranges.
- No-name ginger-ale, tastes like ass.
November 15, 2011 § 12 Comments
Okay, my war on Google+. I personally felt the drama hilarious, but it is rather long, and I apologize in advance. This whole pardon the term flame war has been going on for over a week and I stayed out of it. The funny thing is the WHOLE person this is directed at has long since blocked the other guy, but he still insists on posting shit about it.
So D1 is a gay comic book writer, and D2 is…. well a two faced twat. D1 put up a notice about a week and a bit back saying “Hey, I don’t know you all, But I have three circles. LGBT news, Erotic comic book art or filth.” D2 asked to be put in all 3. Now keep in mind that is what it was termed. A FILTH circle. Make no mistake he knew what he was getting into just as I knew when I signed up. So less than a day later another “friend” of both D1 and D2 complained that he was getting porn in his incoming feed (not from D1) and D2 piped up that he too has been getting offensive material in his feed and if ANYONE sent him porn that he would report the TOS violation to google. Seeing as he signed up for a circle and that D1 had then put not only himself but his other circle sharers in danger a single word described his opinion of D2. “Cunt”
So D2 is still bitching about it. And some have tried to stay out of the way. I have until recently. I don’t know if it has to do with my low tolerance to bullshit, and the fact that I hate whiners who will not accept responsibility. He chooses NOT to block these images, instead he reports them and “asks” to be uncircled. Well only those in his circles are going to see this request, if they see at all. My feed has over a thousand posts a day. I was going to passive-aggressively ask him to put me in a whine free circle, but then decided not to be bitchy and just give my opinion as an outsider.
Okay, I am sorry, but if you agree to be in circles THEN change your mind why should it be on someone else to remove you? Is that not YOUR call then to block those images? I go days without going into my google (and no I do not post porn), but if I miss your message why does that make me the bad guy? You have the option to block. Quit making your feed someone else’s responsibility. Man up and take the responsibility for your own feed. JMHO.
I had no idea that I was then to be at the centre of the shit storm.
The back and forth about the options of not opening your incoming at work and shit back and forth was fine until some DOUCHEBAG compare it to rape.
I clearly described how I exercised my responsibility to remove myself from those I no longer wanted to be part of by asking the people to remove me, since only they could do so. Perhaps you missed reading that part.
You’re right that I have the option to block someone who does that when I see them in Incoming. I also have the option to report and block, just as G+ asks us to. I have chosen to exercise that option.
By the way, thanks for adding two more terms to my list of things I’ve been called at the end of paragraph three of my post. I’ve edited it to add “two-faced” and “whiny” to the list. Bless your heart.
November 12, 2011 § 8 Comments
Okay, I am sick. I sit here doped on Nyquil, and coughing every time I try to talk (boy is that killing me not to talk). The phone just rang for the third time. Now I don’t know if I have ever mentioned, C is a planner. Oh, I don’t that in the sense that we all make plans…. he does it to the point of psychosis. Before we leave the house he has an list of where we are going, in which order, and god help the world if one little thing goes wrong with his plan. Now ordinarily I just accept that he is a bit anal (insert your own joke here), but I am sick and more than a little annoyed that he is calling me to make plans I will not be there for. First he calls to tell me that he has to go to Ikea for shit that they got on sale. Kitchen stuff. Do we need anything else. No, then he is going to pick up groceries, is there anything I want… yes, I want to get the fuck off the phone so I can go back to sleep. It does not really matter if I suggest anyway because he has every meal planned out and why he needs so much of each. Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not that ordinarily it does not annoy the shit out of me. I’m human, and others obsessions of course drive me crazy. But usually I am a little more patient. Okay, perhaps patience has never been my most obvious virtue, but I usually have a sense of humour about his little quirks. But being sick I am low on the humour.
The second phone call was about whether or not he should get an oil change or wait until next weekend when he would go a few kilometres over the 5000 km that is recommended before another oil change. Does anyone NOT go over that number? I honestly think that it is only the old oil holding my mom’s car together. And this is not like a babied car. This car is over 15 years old. C bought it because he can do all the work that may be required on it, barring anything going majorly wrong. In such case he’ll probably just junk it and by another beater. Now, again, my input is not needed. He called so he could weight the pros and cons. Finally he decided with no input from me other than the occasional “uh huh” that he was going to change the oil.
Five minutes later he calls to tell me that he is putting on laundry and should he toss mine in with his. Then proceeds to tell me how he separates the loads. Like I need to approve of how my precious clothes are treated. You had me at you doing my laundry, no need to sell it. Now accept for a few items I get dry cleaned I really do laundry like ever other single guy on the planet, other than C. I wait until I have a load, then put them all in the washer. If I have miscalculated and there is more than one load, I just jam them in until the on two loads become one. C has FIVE, count them FIVE distinct loads. Yeah, great, shove mine in too. Then he tells me I sound terrible and should get some sleep. Grrrrrr.
I remember one day my Aunt commenting that you are not really in a relationship until those little cute quirks became annoying. My mother added, it’s when those annoying quirks get to the point that you want to stab them in the eye with a pencil and don’t… that is when you know it’s love.
August 20, 2011 § 8 Comments
A friend wrote about baby steps. I cheer her on every step of the way. I wonder why no one can appreciate how far she has come in her baby steps.
Then I get impatient with C, and it takes me taking a step back and realize that he is on his own journey, and taking baby steps, while I am wanting him to run. Who the fuck am I to have such high expectations? Who the fuck am I to have any expectations at all? C had his life all nice and easy, then I come in, and in my high handed way expect everything to change. Like I am such a prize.
C is not like me, shocker I know. He’s quite quiet. His old friends go into two categories. Old drinking buddies, or older friends from church growing up. Granted the latter category are very minimal. The old drinking buddies he has are always disappointed that he no longer drinks. That leaves his one friend, who was YES an old drinking buddy, but also taught C everything he knows about tattooing and has done all his work. So last night he was getting his leg piece finished up, and his buddy comments on the new apartment. The clincher is Nelson. C is not a cat person. Not really an animal person at all.
He asked about the “girl” he was seeing. C told him about me. Baby steps. Yes, he’s “seeing someone” named Jamie. Oh, my, such honesty. Sure, I guess it is not C’s fault that his friend assumed Jamie was a girl. But he sure as fuck did not correct him. So? What right do I really have to be pissed off? None. But it doesn’t stop me from being pissed off. Before he just didn’t tell people about me. That is better than lying about me.
Baby steps. I want to believe he had every intention of telling his friend about me, but then took the expedient escape hatch provided when the friend figured Jamie was of the female persuasion. Except for the fact that he had to know that was going to happen. Unless someone knows you’re gay the assumption is straight. And unless the subject of who you are seeing ends with a name I have to assume that a few feminine pronouns enforced the assumed sex of Jamie.
In the future I must be careful what I wish for. I wished for him to at least tell people I existed. Well, I got that, just not the way I wanted it. The poor stupid bastard still hasn’t figured out WHY I am mad. Fucktard. Well, he hasn’t admitted to knowing why I am mad anyway. I refuse to believe he is really stupid enough not to have picked up on the why.
August 13, 2011 § 8 Comments
I was not even aware of this fact until I opened a blog of some noob to find they described their meed as a mixture of “serenity and calmness”. My fucking head nearly popped off. I want to kill this little fucker, or at the very least make him swallow a fucking dictionary. No, not those little pocket ones. The big ass websters my mother uses to kill spiders.
I think it is time to go off line for a wee bit and maybe work of this new found aggression