The wi-fi at my place has recently been acting up. As in… it’s barely been working, and when it does work it’s slower than dial-up. It’s been happening for about a week*. It takes me a full 20 minutes just to stalk someone’s new Facebook album, and it’s been forcing fucktard to use the hardwired cable in my guest room to play online poker without the risk of getting kicked off when he has a full house.
Well last night I’d finally had it. I went into the guest room— where the router is— and was going to unplug the router overnight to let it cool down and hopefully alleviate the problem. Only… it was already unplugged, and the lamp’s plug had been relocated to the surge protector, which was off.
Now, I’m pretty sure that just because I shut my alarm off in my sleep DOES NOT mean that I traverse my house to rearrange various plugs in my sleep. Dakota has no opposable thumbs, so that is also out of the question. Either Boo Radley has been secretly living in my house, or SOMEONE thought they’d be smart and rearrange plugs. Too bad they were fucking retarded (notice the nickname is a contraction of these two words) and didn’t plug things back in where they belonged.
So to sum it all up: plug + outlet = good to go. It’s a wonder how easily things are fixed when you’re not an idiot.
*If I were home for more than an hour and a half each evening, I probably would’ve been prompted to solve this problem sooner.
My step-dad’s sister was unfortunately laid off from her job recently. The worst part is that she was a MINISTER… not exactly the kind of job you’d think was at risk.
What was my mother’s reaction to the situation?
“Well, you know shit’s bad when God starts firing people.”
Your wisdom astounds me, woman.
Drive through the ghetto with your windows rolled down and blare M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes.” People in high crime areas really enjoy hearing the sounds of bullets.
Note: Do not stop. Make sure there are no traffic lights to make you stop, or what started as a fun trick will turn into the worst idea you ever had.
No, I don’t want to imagine that my life will be somehow bettered by spotting Rihanna or Carmen Electra shopping for new ankle boots.
I’m still really not sure why the Academy felt the need to give Robert Downy, Jr. an Oscar nod for his role in Tropic Thunder. Okay yeah, he made fun of Oscar-pandering actors who try to take uber serious roles to get an award. So the Academy thought they’d be ironic and nominate him because he wanted to make fun of people trying to get nominated. Here’s my take on his character: it was like one of those people who keeps on with a joke for way too long because he thinks people find it funny, unwilling to just give it up.
It was funny in the beginning when he tried to “act black” and instead sounded more like a black sambo character than a contemporary black man. It was even funny when the real black guy made fun of him for being a white Australian trying to be black. It got old, though. Fast. I kept finding myself doing other things while watching this movie, and nodded off at one point (I almost NEVER do this when watching movies).
It’s pretty bad when the funniest person in a movie is Tom Cruise. The last 5 minutes of the movie were the best, especially when Mr. Cruise ended the movie dancing to this song.
Ever heard of freeganism? No? I saw the word in passing one day and decided to Google it. It’s actually pretty amusing. It really shouldn’t be considered a word, because it isn’t in the dictionary (probably because Merriam and Webster found out what it was and would rather be an incomplete volume than acknowledge it). But since it’s pretty amusing and definitely entertaining to a person who is bored at work all day, I’ll enlighten you.
Freeganism is a lifestyle that entails making no original waste. What is original waste, you ask? Well, it’s anything you buy new that you don’t use anymore. They buy/consume everything that’s already been used or thrown away already. Car? Hitch-hike. House? Squat in a vacant building. Food and clothing? You guessed it… dumpster dive.
Now, I agree with where they’re coming from. It’s a good idea to reduce the amount of waste you leave behind. HOWEVER, I like the bread I buy to share shelf space with its other bread friends… not in a huge metal bin next to dirty diapers and needles.
Here are a few pictures from their site to show you all the super fun stuff they do:
I looked for their “Famous Freegans” page (the staple for any kind of cult wishing to draw in nimble, celebrity-obsessed minds), but apparently it’s pretty hard to find cute dresses to wear to movie premiers and award ceremonies from dumpsters— even in nice neighborhoods.
For more information, or to find out how to join fellow freegans in your area, visit Freegan.info. I wonder how they pay for the domain name…
I apologize for not having enough time to brush/bathe you. You like like you’re from the pound (nevermind that you’re a mutt and always look like you’re from the pound), and I feel real bad everytime you look up at me through your overgrown bangs.
Well guess what, little poodlepop? You’re going to be put under mild torture this Saturday when I drop you off at Petco to get groomed. Sorry I refuse to pay an extra $15 for them to brush your teeth, but I think you’ll end up thanking me for that anyway.
I hope they don’t look down on me for the way you look. You do look pretty pitiful. My apologies.
P.S. Sorry my room mate is an asshole to you. I can tell you don’t like him, since you run away every time he tries to “play” with you in front of me.
Will be ordering Tropic Thunder on the TV tonight to see exactly why Robert Downy, Jr. was nominated for an Oscar for his performance. Sarah insists that it’s actually genius and shows that the Academy can laugh at themselves, so we’ll have to see.
I’ll be the judge of that.