Filed under: Jesus Christ, eating food, gross, mental, what a dick, working
Some fuckin’ people, am I right?
Anyway, GROSS ALERT I went to the doctor because apparently I have a stye. So I asked him if it was an eye tumor, because at virtually every doctor visit I inquire about something that I think is probably a tumor. He is of Indian descent, and a very good doctor, but when I asked if he was sure it was not a tumor, he was like “LOL, It’s nott a tuh-moh!” a la Arnold. Then I was like HAHHAAHA cause that one never gets old for me, and he was like 
.
Anyway twat sprinkles, what kind of plants/animals/children did you guyz have for breakfast/lunch? I had a sandwich and a xanax, because Monday Meetings can suck my dick.
1) Any form of WIN in the Passive-Aggressive Games of the Monday 330 meeting
2) Mother stopping by to get all in my kool-aid and fuck shit up [Currently In Progess]
3) Anything Balls-to-the-Wall
4) Stevie Nicks calling Lindsay Lohan’s kettle black? Luv Steve, but hasn’t she done enough cocaine to safely say that she has done a SHIT LOAD of cocaine?
-Electronic mail from my BOSSZ:
-Adding an old high school friend on Facebook, then clicking on their “INFO” tab:
Sarah Palin? Really, dude?
And I’m working SO HARD on my new endeavor over here: http://fuglyshoes.tumblr.com, please go see. xx
Do it like this.
So I changed themes over there this morning and started playing with the new random button. Reading those old posts led me to the following conclusion:
Man I am fucking NUTS.
Filed under: Jesus Christ, The Lord, don't, mental, oh fuck, scotch, teaching, what a dick, working
Dudes. You know how I like to drop out of the PhD program every year? WELL, I QUIT AGAIN TODAY (via an epic-ass email sent at 3pm.)
My boss’s response: ”I understand your frustration and anxiety. I used to feel that way, too. Let’s meet tomorrow and I’ll give you some tips/lessons I’ve learned on how to deal with stress.”
Jigga WHAAAAt??
He clearly is in denial or only read 1/8th of my email. I picture him looking at it with one eye closed, pointer fingers in his ears, and screaming “LA LA LA LA LA! I CAN’T HEEEAR YOOOOU!!!” Did I mention that the email was epic, and listed all of the reasons why I want to quit, as in QUIT, the program?
@L$H%@$#gw^. So now I get to have “Awkward Conversation of the Year” at 4:30pm tomorrow. At least my Friday presentation for work is now canceled (high-five, guys!)
Wish me luck. I have no idea if I’ll get snake-charmed into staying in the program that makes me hate my life and all living things. LE FUCKING SIGH.
The upper-middle class mothers are up in arms because:
a) the grossly inequitable distribution of world resources
b) Darfur
c) their beautiful (nope) pics of exposed breast with baby mouth attached were removed from facebook.
The answer is neither “a” nor “b”, but this is making NATIONAL NEWS. They are fucking *pissed*, even thought it does violate facebook TOS to display your areola. The pic above does not even display full-on breasticle, so it is actually acceptable (as the term applies to legal sensibilities, not my own, yikes). But IT IS NOT ENOUGH. ”I MUST SHOW THE FULL-ON ACTION.”
Breast-feeding is good for baby. I don’t know if being punched in the face with a pic like this of a friend on facebook is going to change anyone’s mind about the topic.
*Granted, I have complained (as I was reminded by Sir Robert) about “My BANGZ needing to get the shit out my FACE”, and other such nonsense, but I’m not sitting on my living room floor and petitioning to have my post-preggo boob shoved in someone’s face. Maybe I’m just angsty today. I have to give an hour-long-talk for work on a really hard topic this Friday, and I’m concerned because as of today, I DON’T GET IT. Not even a little bit. Hopefully I will be fired?
I came home the other day to find that a small Vietnamese lady had entered and posted this on my fridge:
That’s right. It says, “Ang, this is how your’s huose.” To be fair, my mom was raised in a willage in Vietnam where they did not teach the children English. That is not the point. I certainly couldn’t say that in Vietnamese. Also, I rent my house from her => she has a key. Imagine if your mom had a key to your place. Nothing good can come of that.
Anyway, she took the time to get the scissors, pen a message, and arrange it on my fridge. I wonder what I will be like at her age. At least she’s amusing herself?
Filed under: Iowa, beer, bored, farts, gross, mental, oh fuck, old people, scotch, trips, what a dick, you
OK guys: FLIGHT CANCELED. If I could bitch-slap the weather, I would.
I was so looking forward to NOT THIS. Since I am an emotional handicap, I’m pretty sure the entire airport knows I how I feel about my extended stay in Iowa.
Please, someone talk to me. I’ve already tried screaming SERENITY NOW!!!! but that pissed everyone off.
I’ve started drinking.
That smile was captured en route to the Airport of Sadness. It has been turned upside down. A couple-few more heinekens and we’ll right-side-it-up again.
I have never been this stoked to board a plane to TEXAS. Things to indulge in:
- tacos
- my beloved Wii
- a stinkly pug
- Virgin Mary air fresheners (Yes. I miss the Catholics)
Filed under: Iowa, bored, chillin today, eating food, farts, gross, mental, oh fuck, old people, scotch, trips, you
Relatively Constant Circumstances:
- Softwater
- Going ANTIQUING against one’s will. Oh yeah I am being super-cereal about this
- Where is the tobasco? Do I have to eat the fish eggs
- Can I put this down your garbage disposal / do you like your dishes in the dishwasher facing North? [AGAIN, super-cereal] / where do I put my empty glass bottle?
- Had to leave all my recreational “God made dirt => dir’t don’t hurt” plant life at home
- B&W movies, of which I don’t have an across-the-board prob with, but who watches “The Day the Earth Stood Still” in its original version when you have 20-something guests in your home?
- Sneaking alochol. Hoping no one planned to put scotch in their eggnog, as I have stolen and hidden it in the basement guestroom.
2) 
3) 
7)
Consequences of the Above C ircumstances
- I cannot get clean, no matter if I rinse long enough to freeze myself out when 6 other people are taking/have already taken showers. Filmy soap scum is an evil, slippery force.
- I’ll show you the rest of my “finds” shortly.
- I am not satiated. Not hardly. The W.T. in me doesn’t like fish eggs.
- I don’t want to be a pretentious dick about your refusal to recycle so let’s all get uncomfs when I ask where to put the empty glass .
- I could handle this whole thing in a more civil manner if I had some herbal assistance and had decided to bring my Wii. My lungs are sort of thanking me, though.
- Actually, who wants to see either version? OK, if you’re a guy with the guy retard gene, may-hap you wanna see the remake with KEANU. Full disclosure, I have the retarded chick gene that has caused me to watch Kate Hudson’s “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days” 130492x.
- When there isn’t 50 people up in the kitchen, must spike whatever is on hand, and with a quickness.
Bonus glass of FAKE WINE of TRICKERY:
P.S. I hope you guys hearted your ecards if you requested one. If you still want one, send me an email at halfassitude at gmail. Wuv you guys, would rather hang out with you via interton any day.
Gentlemen: With the cold season upon us, do you find that your breasticles have begun to itch? This would have to do with dry skin. Or one would hope.
Ladies: How bout you? Or do you own higher-quality undergarments that do not cause you to sneakily swipe at your breast during meetings and family dinners. Lace is OUT, I decree.
