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Anti-Bobby Flay Ring

Delirium (di lir` iem) n. a condition of the mind, as during insanity, in which one is restless and keeps thinking and talking wildly.
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March 29, 2001

Even More Fun

Welp, tonight I found out a very important piece of roomie has one of those online journals that she writes in. I just glanced at her screen (can't read the screen, but since I visit a few journals on the site, I recognized the site logo), I saw that she had one. Anyhoo, I didn't actually read the journal, but my good friends Bard and vixen did (I love having evil friends...they come in so handy at company picnics), and informed me of a few things that were said.
She sounds pretty damn paranoid on there. A few times, she mentioned "I know she reads these, I know she reads this," etc, which, obviously if I just learned about an hour ago that she had one, I don't. However, her knowing that I read a few journals every now and again leads me to believe she's obviously been looking at my computer screen at various times to see what I'm doing. I've recently added a password for my screensaver for when I go out, but I guess that's just not enough anymore. From what I was shown, she talks about how she's not going to censor herself (umm, ok...)...she also talks to her journal as if it's a real person or something. Asking it if it had enough to eat today and if it's webspace is comfy, I don't know. I haven't seen it for myself, but I admit to now being intrigued, greatly. I guess I can assume she knows about this site now if she's the expert on what sites I visit and whatnot. I can extend a hearty "Hi Nicole!" in her direction and let her know that, if you have a problem with something I do or say...such as my talking to my boyfriend on a voicechat or anything else, you can always just come to me to talk through it. After you've presented your case in a concise and respectable manner, *then* I'll tell you to go blow yourself or stand over a mirror to stare at your hymen (yes folks, she's actually admitted this to me...I don't know where it says on my head that I care about her self-exploration, but if that's what milks your cow...). Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on her right now, but she's had *many* opportunities to come to me if she had a problem with something I did, and she never did...instead, she'd just sit there pouting all of the time. Frankly, I'm sick of it, and I refuse to feel sorry for somebody who chooses to act that way.

Posted by ladyx at 01:44 AM | Comments (0)

Even More Fun!

I was blessed this morning with the time to glance through my roomie's online diary, and I must say...BWAHAHAHAHAAA!
Ok, I wonder if she's always going to play the victim during her life, or if she's going to start taking responsibility for her own actions. I've admitted on numerous occasions that I'm a bad roommate; I've also told her that if she had a problem with something I did, she should tell me instead of just letting it bother her. In her journal, she acts as if I'm completely un-approachable to her when she has an issue she'd like to discuss with me. Honey, you've never even tried. When Sarah was over and asked you what was wrong, why did you reply with "I don't want to talk about it" if you're so wanting to discuss things like an adult? What was with that two weeks in there where you said absolutely nothing to either of us? You sat in the middle of the floor pouting that whole night; not acknowledging your guest, absolutely nothing...all because I brought her a container of spaghetti from the carryout. How petty. How difficult it must've been for you to sleep that night with something so horrible on your conscience.

Another point which I found amusing was her whole issue with my online voicechatting. She said something to the effect of "what started out as a cute two hour thing has become a 24 hour obsession"...good to know I'm begrudged the chance to talk to my boyfriend because I can't see him every day like you could the weiner you went out with for a whole two weeks. I love how she tries to claim that, since we're not actually together, we can't be close to each other. Well, we can be, and very easily. Maybe I am on there too much, but you're up most of the night playing on AOL anyway, so what do you really care? You can't blame me for your not sleeping for two weeks, dear, it's not my fault when you're up until 5 or 6 am still on AOL. You don't like it, don't listen, and don't listen on the door as you leave the room to hear if I say something either about you or something sexual in nature to Tom. Oh yeah, she conveniently left out the parts where she asked me questions about his private area, and gave me a hard time when I replied with "it's none of my concern." Seems that there were quite a few facts that she "conveniently" forgot to mention, including the one where she created another AOL screen name just for the central purpose of stalking her ex-frycook, where she talked about how miserable I'm going to be "when" Tom breaks up with me, the time she tried to convince me that he was psycho based on his handwriting, and the countless number of times she mocked me and insulted me blatantly "in front" of him when he and I were talking. She mentioned something about me having low self-esteem because I found him online (I think that was the reason...something about me talking to him all of the time, I guess, I don't know), yet she found her first frycook online (he just happened to live in this city), was constantly over at his house, and on the phone with him in the bathroom until six in the morning. I suppose that's a different situation, though, because it's her we're talking about, not me. I can't easily take my computer into the bathroom, because, believe me, for the chance at a little privacy (since you never seem to leave the room that much), I would in a heartbeat. All I can do is put the blanket over my head and talk as low as I can. Just as my friends said, misery loves company, and since she's miserable, she wants me to be along with her, so hopefully we'll be all "close" and talk about how evil men are and whatnot. Sorry, it ain't happening, even *if* Tom broke up with me. It must just burn you up inside that I can be so much closer to him when he's over 800 miles away than I am or ever will be to you. Face it, dear, that's how it is, and that's how it always will be. After 20 years, I've finally found a wonderful guy who makes me incredibly happy. I think I've paid my dues; let me enjoy it in peace. I don't get pissed off when I hear you talking to yourself either when I'm in the bathroom or at night when you're on AOL...

Another thing she mentioned was the whole microwave/computer/"she takes advantage of me" thing. Yes, as I've stated a few times before, the microwave being dirty *was* my fault, and I should've had to clean it (which I did...she failed to mention that in her little posting, too), however, you should've SAID something instead of leaving a ridiculous little note. Here we go back to the "I don't want to talk about it" thing, where, even given the opportunity, you never said a damn thing. I would've cleaned it in a second if you would've said something. You assume, however, that I leave that stuff for you because "(I) know (you) won't ask me to do it"...uh, nope. The dishes I used were left for me to clean, as well, I just hadn't done it. If you would've said "I'd like everything clean now" I would've gotten up, and done it (I don't even do my own. It's nothing personal at all, just my inherent laziness). The fact that you never said anything led me to believe it didn't matter much. Again, there's that lack of communication. As far as the computer is concerned, she claimed that, the couple of times I took it apart, I put it back together incorrectly., dear, it was put back together the right way. I know where the monitor cable goes, I know where the keyboard cable goes, etc. The truth is, your machine is a POS. It's not my fault if it doesn't work right. If I were to have screwed something up, I would've paid for whatever it was, and paid to have it fixed. Wow! Somebody that takes responsibility for her own new and exciting! Of course, I'm sure once you've saved up money for a new hard drive, your 133 will be converted magically into a 700 overnight! (For those who don't know, my roommie made a comment to me once about how she wants a faster computer, so she's going to buy a new hard drive. I can understand ignorance because I'm pretty computer-ignorant myself at times, but that was just plain stupidity). She, also, could've easily said she didn't want me poking around in her machine when I asked initially, and I wouldn't fact, I would've found another way completely to fix my machine. I never would've touched it at all. It's funny that a few small words can have such a dramatic impact. She had full permission to use anything of mine that she wanted to, and I assume she did. She used my tv and vcr numerous times until I pulled the cables (which I did due to her childishness...thought I'd stoop to her level for a little while. If she wanted to act like a child, she'd be treated like one very quickly). She blames it on the dishes I apparently left for her to clean, but I didn't. I took them because I'm sick of this little game going back and forth with the "I'm not talking to you" jazz. I even left them on after a while thinking that all was ok, and I could leave them...guess not, because as soon as I found a note in her nuker, I pulled them again. I love how she's so sure that I put them back in on the weekends when she leaves (I only did it once when she left for spring break. That was it)...of course, she knows everything. She's also accused me of using her DVD player (I have a VCR, why would I want her precious DVD player?), and destroying one of her plastic glasses some odd time ago. Sorry to say, kid, but I have no reason to destroy your property. The gashes you found in your glass weren't from me. Why would I waste my time destroying something of your's? Trust me, you're not that important to me. The smudges on the DVD window are also not from least not from me using it if there are any. I've moved it a couple of times because I've taken my cables, but other than that, your player is safe from my mits. Never used it, never cared to.

I suppose, now that I've basically written enough to make even me want to vomit, I'm just going to tie up a few loose ends here and there. I never once yelled at you for leaving a mess on the bathroom floor when you took a shower and overflowed it. I didn't say "get that mess cleaned up now" or anything like that. Yes, I am both a slob and a hermit. I've never denied that, nor do I ever plan to, however, I do find it amusing that you claim you so want to "socialize," yet you're locked up in the room here a helluva lot more than I am. If you want to socialize, go socialize, and leave me alone, comprende? I get home from class, you're here, I get home from work, you're here. I get a whole, maybe, hour or two alone in the room here; the rest is spent with you breathing down my neck and looking over my shoulder to make sure I'm not talking about you. We both live here, can't deny me the same rights which you feel you're entitled to. Three more weeks, and you can move on to your next little adventure with your "best friend" Denise, whom you "disowned" only a few short months ago, and did nothing but talk trash about. Hey, have a great summer! :D

Oh yeah, I do plan on talking to her about this sometime between today and tomorrow. This rant shall not go unnoticed!

Posted by ladyx at 01:41 AM | Comments (0)

March 22, 2001

Salon and the Death of The Web

I was browsing the news the other day and I saw a proposal (an on-line magazine) had to keep their services on-line in this quarter of slumping ad revenue: charge people a $30 fee to access their service. I hear all of you now, "What? They want to charge us to read that crap? No way am I paying. I'll go someplace else where the same crap is free!" A year ago I would have had that same reaction. Now that I'm involved with a web content provider, I must change my vote. Paying for the web is fun! Everyone is doing it. Come on, chuck $30 over at salon, give yahoo $20 and then give [insert company I work with] $100 just 'cause I sent you. Fact of the matter is, the only people who care if these sites die, at this point, are the people who get the money from the sites in question.

The web has become a world of moochers. Free music, free information and even free isps! Suddenly people expect surfers to give up $30 to read movie reviews and news? Please! As much as I, for my own financial well being, would love to think this will actually happen, I would be deluding myself. Web content providers will be dead before America and/or the world breaks open its checkbook.

Honestly, I think people don't get that these sites take money to run. The people who run these sites don't do it for free. It can be costly to run a magazine of any kind. Some people say,"oh, those ads pay for the site! I don't need to pay." For one thing, ads normally only pay if you click them. How many of you have clicked an ad in the past few months? Not I. Normally when I see an ad, I try to get the page to scroll where I can't even see it anymore. I've even been known to see an ad for something, like, say "Oh yeah, wasn't that book I needed coming out this month?" and then visit and buy the book without even clicking on the ad. Not very helpful. People, including myself, even complain when a company puts popup ads on a site to supplement their income. I don't want to buy a toaster, I just want to read the content and it takes to much effort to close that popup window. With today's economy, it's an effort that, I guess, I'm willing to make.

With all the dot.coms failing and ad revenue going way down, it won't be long until only 1 or 2 of my favorite content oriented sites are still alive. I lost a few weeks ago. Web users don't care right now. There are plenty of sites to go around. However, I'd like to think we're an intelligent enough population that we will care when the web only contains pornography and sites designed by ten year olds in love with NSynch. . . On second thought, long live!

Here's a site where you can watch as the Dot.coms die.

Posted by vixen at 07:56 AM | Comments (0)

March 20, 2001

My Psycho Roomie...Part 2.

Speaking of people who never express problems with another person to their face, my roomie is at it again. This time, it's even more ridiculous than before.
Ok, perhaps I should start at the beginning of this grand "falling out." It all started last November when a friend of her's came to visit us for a few days. All my roommate would talk about is how cool her friend is and how I'm going to get along great with her, etc. Well, she visited, and yeah, we got along very very well. Very cool person, I must say. One day, however, when Nicole was at class, Sarah commented that she was hungry because she hadn't eaten all day. I was going up to the carryout anyway, so I offered to bring her back something so she at least ate something. I brought her back this small container of spaghetti (they monitor how much you take from the carryout. I would've brought more if they would've let me). After she finished off the spaghetti, Nicole came home, asked if she was hungry to which she replied "(LX) just brought me some spaghetti, and I just finished it before you came in." Admittedly, it wasn't much; it was basically just to tide her over until Nicole came home. Well, that was it for the night. Nicole immediately clammed up, and when Sarah asked her what was wrong, she replied "I don't want to talk about it." From then on, all she did was sit in the middle of the floor and pout; not talking to either of us. The next day, Sarah had had enough of Nicole's ridiculous attitude that she asked me to bring her back to the train station since she wanted to go home, which I did. Nicole didn't talk to either of us for a good couple of weeks (which I didn't really mind; I just found it amusing that she could be so childish). This was the beginning of the end...

After winter vacation (she was supposed to pick me up from the airport...which she didn't. I did get mad, but didn't yell at her like I initially wanted), things just began to get weirder and weirder. When we were getting close to spring break, she commented to me that she was going back home, and was thinking of bringing Sarah over for a week. Trouble clouded the air like dust after a bomb dropping when those words escaped her lips. I knew this was a bad idea.

She was talking to Sarah on AOL, and, you know how sometimes when you're talking to your friends, somebody says "tell them I said 'hi'"? Well, Sarah and I were doing that back and forth, but instead of saying "(LX) said hi" or whatever, she changed the color of her text, and was talking to Sarah *as* me. When I asked her about it, Nicole denied it, so I said "I'm just going to ask Sarah myself". At that point, Nicole IM'ed Sarah telling her not to talk to me. Sarah, being the wonderful person that she is, told me that Nicole was impersonating me; the whole while Nicole trying to look at my screen to see what Sarah and I were saying. I minimized the IM window, and said "you don't do that stuff. You don't impersonate people online like that," among a few other things. Nicole, admitting to being too lazy to say "she said," got defensive, and put her headphones on so she didn't have to listen to me. After that, she and Sarah continued talking, and Sarah showed me some of the IM text. Turns out, Nicole wasn't jealous of losing Sarah to me, she was upset that Sarah and I had a better relationship than she and I do. Well, I fucking wonder why? :P I guess after her asking me questions about my boyfriend's anatomy and telling me "I got further with Martin" (her ex scumbag frycook "boyfriend") "than you ever will with Tom" (which is supposed to be some big insult? I think I'm missing something, but whatever...I'll give her the benefit of the doubt this time), I'm supposed to just huddle up with a mud mask, my hair in curlers, and a bowl of popcorn with her and be all buddy-buddy. I don't think so.

Upon hearing about this incident, Tom, my best friend, my mom, and even Sarah all told me that I should tell the RA about her because they were afraid of her doing something to me (she and her last roommate had to go through the courts because of their problems). I told my RA about it, and she said "well, if she starts doing weird things like leaving you little notes or something like that, come and talk to me again". Needless to say, I'm going to be visiting my RA again soon.

Last night when I got home from work, I found Nicole sitting on her chair, pouting, being completely quiet, thumbing through her latest Cosmo. I just figured she was having another one of her "the world hates me" fits, so I ignored it. This morning, I went to heat up some breadsticks in the microwave after she left, only to find a note in it saying that it was "out of order" due to lack of it being clean. Admittedly, it was my fault that it was dirty, and I should've cleaned it (which I did), but she *never once* said "you left a mess in the microwave, clean it" to me...she just left some ridiculous, third-grade note stating that. I can understand her being upset because it was my fault it was dirty, but to not actually tell me is just stupid. I'm so sick and tired of petty crap like this. Needless to say, I left her a nasty note in return, but decided to not give her an advantage in case my RA talks to her, so I left one saying she should've just told me to clean it after I got home from work last night. I don't get it.

Needless to say (even after I skipped a *lot* of crap), my roommate's a bloody psycho. Granted, yes, I should've cleaned the microwave before, but I hadn't realized I made a mess in it. All she had to say was "clean it" when I got home last night instead of this word-less pouting bullshit. Oh well, only five weeks left until I'm done with her, anyway.

By the way, I woke up with a cold yesterday, and my face is flushed right now...damnit :P.

Posted by ladyx at 01:45 AM | Comments (0)

March 15, 2001


Just out of complete curiosity (better cover your eyes, Louieville, I have another complaint :P), why is it that when people have a problem with another person, they *never* have the balls to actually say something to that person's face? How come they always wait until after they're not around and piss and moan about them behind their backs? Totally chickensh!t, really. If you really have something to say to somebody, use some maturity, and show you have some dignity by at least saying it to them instead of about them. Sad, sad, sad people...

Posted by ladyx at 01:48 AM | Comments (0)

March 12, 2001

Weekend in Review.

Hey, Louis... you probably don't want to read this. I complain about some stuff that happened this weekend. I must admit I'm improving, however, since I also have some positive things to discuss as well. I await your feedback, and am also considering starting a "user participation" thread.

On to my weekend... (somewhat longwinded description to follow)

Friday morning, I wake up. My ear still hasn't improved, though I can't say the infection has gotten any worse. Trudge through until evening. Friend calls and invites me to see a movie. I accept. $7 was surely wasted as I didn't care much for the film. It didn't help things that the entire middle school seemed to be crammed in there. Laser pointers, people running around, chairs being kicked, and people who insist on talking, etc are not condusive to a good theater experience.

After the film (listen up, Louis, this is one of the positive parts), my friend and I go to get a drink of water. As I'm taking a sip, he comments "f*#&ing b@stards" in regards to the rugrats. This cracks me up, and I can't help but to spit water out. Some also comes out of my nose, which causes him to do the same. After five minutes of uncontrolled laughter, I finally regain my composure.

I seek out the manager, and explain why I was not satisfied. Their best offer? "Come back tommorrow and watch it for free". I think not; chances are, the same type kids will be there, the movie wasn't all that good, and I really wished I hadn't spent my $7 bucks. Instead of complaining further, however, I took the ticket, said thanks, and vowed not to come back again.
Friend spends the night at my house, and we both fall asleep while watching a movie on tv; I can't even remember what it was called.

Saturday, I should title "Things you should avoid if you don't like pain" or "How not to hurt yourself". (Louis, I'm not complaining in this part; rather, I actually had fun, despite the injury or risk of injury.)

Somehow, the conversation had gotten around to penmanship. So, I took a piece of chalk and began writing the alphabet on the blackboard rather sloppily. I then began to sing the alphabet song really off key. During this time, I slip into "idiot savant" mode and decide to smack my head into the blackboard. Um, well, I didn't intend to hit it *that* hard. Not enough to cause any serious injury, I crack up again. Advice to readers: Hitting head is not a good idea.

Eventually, I find an old bag containing my "matchbox" cars (turns out most were generics, but since I was young at the time, I never knew the difference nor did I care). Friend and I construct some ramps, and crash them. Eventually discuss plans for an ultra-cheesy "movie" which was to be recorded with a webcam. Thankfully, neither one of us decided it was a good idea. Oh well; I guess my directorial debut will have to wait. (And I'm sure you're all tha
nkful for that, I subject you to enough weirdness here.)

So then I find an AOHell cd. What better to do than destroy it. But wait, what's this? Inside the bag that contained the cars, I also find some toy soldiers. Hmm... I also remember the old humidifier motor I have...


(What do you readers think I did?)

*space to think*

*keep thinking*

*or stop thinking*

*chances are you've skipped this part already*

*or if you haven't, you're thinking about skipping it*

*spoiler space continues*

*spoiler space ends*

Well... that spoiler space left something to be desired. And I wonder how many of you came up with the answer? Probably none of you, unless you had seen the motor. Eh, I wasted time there, didn't I?

It just so happens that the cd fits on top of the motor quite well (I have previously destroyed cd's in this manner by scratching them). So, I attach
the toy soldiers to the cd and place the cd on the humidifier. Turn motor on.
Whirl. Buzz. Oh, it's spinning. Whirl. Buzz. Buzz. Whirl. Pretty colors. Whirl. Buzz. SHIT! Toy soldiers instantly turn into freakin' fast projectiles. I nearly get impaled. Apparently I didn't use enough tape to secure the soldiers. Or, Mr. Tan and Mr. Green have something against me. Maybe they are bitter for having seen their friends killed in the glorious battles of my youth. They could be resentful that nobody really plays with them anymore, having been replaced by the "Army Men" series of computer games. Whatever.

Lessons learned: Things that spin fast, fly fast when released. Make sure possible projectiles are secured well. Also make sure that you have something available to protect yourself from the projectile.

Saturday continues, and gross popsicles becomes the topic of discussion. Such flavors as ketchup (yup, I actually got a friend to try one -- you should've seen his face...), mushroom soup & garlic, soy sauce and lemon juice, cheese whiz and chocolate chip, etc are discussed. Business plans are put on hold; venture capitalists do not think product will be sucessful. I plead my case that "This product will target the masochistic portion of the population." Still denied. I give up.

Eventually friend leaves, and I resume my boring day.
Boring day continues through sunday. Nothing notable happens (except that I've come to the realization that 20 pickup sticks is hardly enough to play a worth while game -- I should probably buy a couple hundred more), and my ear has not improved. Being that Fri-Sun are the typical weekend days, you'd think this rant would be over? Well, lucky you... have a brief monday bonus.

Monday, 11 am EST: Go to offices of doctor. He looks in both ears. Prescribes 10 ear drops, twice a day... for the ear that doesn't bother me? Fine, I guess... I don't have the ability to look inside my own ears and even if I did, I wouldn't know what to be looking for. Just seems odd to me.

Sorry this rant took so long. I thank you if you actually bothered to read this. Have a cookie. (You too, Louis... you have helped me see the light and become nicer! [snicker])

So um...


Posted by bard at 09:47 PM | Comments (0)

March 09, 2001

I am back!

Yes, again I have returned from the depths much to the dismay of losers such as Louie who fail to recognize the true meaning of the word "rant."

I have recieved many an email in the past few weeks from loyal fans. "Lady X! Where are you? We need your wisdom to save us from this grand slump of X-less humor!" Actually, I lied, I didn't really recieve any emails except for the usual "You can be debt free!" and "Hot, wet, naked teens! Cum on over!"...whatever...for those of you who didn't want me back, I am proud to say a stern "tough noogies" to you all.

For everybody's information, I had a bit of computer trouble for about a week and a half (bastard thing) where my pissant roomie decided to clay up the screwholes on her's so I couldn't use it to fix mine (after she told me I could, btw). Whatever, I fixed mine, and her's still sucks @ss.

After that, last week, I went on spring break on the east coast (a detailed summary to come in sections...not really so much a rant, but whatever, at least I did something with my life :P) where I went to New Jersey to see my incredibly wonderful boyfriend (I will put a warning on the top of the post just in case some people don't really want to read mush. To all of you, I extend a whole-hearted, loving middle finger in your direction), Pennsylvania to see my best friend, and to tour Philadelphia, and New York to see the greatest 80's group since Men Without Hats, Duran Duran. Basically, I've had an eventful few weeks, and am now back in the dull, dreary hell I call college. More on me and my life in the days to come...admit it, you care :P.

Posted by ladyx at 01:49 AM | Comments (0)

March 01, 2001

Elderly people. Who needs 'em?

Elderly people. Who needs 'em? No, really -- who does? I'd like to know. I sure don't feel as though I do.

Some of you may remember the farmer I spoke of before. The one who cut down those trees and put up a really big stable instead. Well, he's pissed me off once again. Apparently, he's decided to sell some of his land for a new senior care complex.

This new complex will be not more than a couple blocks from my home. I don't want it there, because, obviously, I don't care much for old people. And also, there was a senior care center built only about 2-3 miles away a couple years ago. Is that not good enough any more? It had plenty of spare land also; they could've built a new addition if need be. I hardly think most of their residents will be running laps around the place any time soon. I'd be willing to bet that as long as they had a nice view and some fresh air, they'd be happy. But, oh well. I'll just have to deal with them, thanks to the new complex.

Deal with them calling me "kid". Grr.
Deal with them using my full name. Grr.
Deal with their poor driving. Grr.
Deal with their stench. Grr.

Sure, I admit that not all seniors are bad. Some are neat and fun to hang around. But, for the most part, they annoy me.

Due to the general apathy of my generation, they basically run the government.
"I can't live without social security!" -- So, they put the financial burden on us. Look: The body was really only designed to live 30 or 40 years. After this point, it begins to deteriorate. Don't complain about arthritis. Don't complain about any other old-age related problem. I don't want to hear it. Personally, money is better spent in serch of a cure for cancer, AIDS, or any of a number of childhood diseases. This lets the younger generation be healthier, and therefore, more productive. They build things, they come up with new ideas, inventions, etc. You're retired. What, exactly, do you provide society? Wisdom?
In some cases, yes. Often times, however, that wisdom does not apply. Things are obviously much different from when you were growing up. And while I think it is admirable that you try to keep up and adapt to the changing situation, it is often a futile effort.

My one set of grandparents calls often with a computer related problem. Fine, I help. They send "VIRUS ALERT" emails. Nice thought I suppose, but they don't realize that most of those are fraudulent. Into the trash can it goes. And periodically, they want to upgrade their system. I guess it's putting more money back into circulation. But does that 800mhz processor really make Word (well, eventually it will -- but that's a whole different rant) run faster? How about Netscape? I don't think so. This is also the grandfather who comes over occasionally, and upon seeing my computer not in use, helps himself. Often times this screws something up or at least becomes an annoyance.

And then you have that whole Broward county situation, mostly due to the elderly. I know you have a right to vote; I encourage it. But was all that complaining really needed?

I'd really like to tell some of these people off. There exists a social stigma against this, however. "Respect your elders!" To that I say, hell no. If something warrants it, I should be able to speak my mind to them. Why is it considered somewhat acceptable (ideally, there would be no arguements) to get into an arguement with people generally around your age but not with your elders?

"I would prefer it if you wouldn't call me that, please"
"Listen sonny, when I was your age..."

Grumble, grumble.

Posted by bard at 09:48 PM | Comments (2)

First Post!


Eh, sorry about the caps. I was just excited about having the first post in March. Well, actually, I wasn't. After trying it, I don't see the excitement.
Why do people on Slashdot and other sites find it amusing and worthwhile? They certainly aren't adding anything to the conversation. Oh well.

Posted by bard at 08:49 AM | Comments (0)

Life is Eerie

Have you ever seen the Seinfeld episode where Jerry an George do an experiement because Jerry always seems to "come out even". Jerry loses $20, then finds $20. Well, I suppose I am like Jerry Seinfeld. It's always happened this way actually. It seems the worse off I get, the better I become.

I just got a check from out the blue for the exact amount of money I owe to the IRS (actually, about $20 over). It was money I wasn't expecting (a bonus of sorts). Woohoo.

Posted by vixen at 07:58 AM | Comments (0)