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This is more "annoying" than "suck," but it's kind of funny, in a rambling sort of way.
I spent the greater part of Friday and Saturday doing odd jobs for my grandparents. Among the items included a rickety old bookcase, which I had to move (by myself) from the attic to the basement, then back up to the first floor, and finally into the back of my dad's Ford Explorer. Next, my father and I spent two hours moving several hundred pounds of cartridge-reloading equipment (including upwards of ten thousand bullets, rolls of copper, empty shells, primers, shot, and bullet molds) from the second floor of my grandparents' house into the aforementioned Explorer.
Now, you may say, what would Bernard S. Mallon want with enough ammunition to stage a minor coup? I have no f*%!ing clue. My three working hypotheses are:
1. He was afraid that zombies were going to attack. Sensible (I have a working zombie plan).
2. He was afraid that all the black people in New York City were going to rise up and attack the country. This would sound ridiculous (because it is), except for the fact that my grandfather has voiced this opinion before.
3. He was afraid that sale of ammunition was going to be banned. Again, I can sort of understand this, but why go through all that trouble?
It's really scary realizing that one's inherent paranoia was inherited rather than independently developed.
In any case, I was finally able to leave that strange and eldritch house to visit my uncle and his kids. We (myself, my father, my uncle, and his two kids) met at a diner in Sugarloaf, NY called the Barnsider, renowned for excellent food and rock-bottom prices.
Unfortunately, I made the mistake of ordering coffee. I took a massive slug of the stuff, and immediately gagged. The f#!!ing stuff tasted like mouthwash. Further inspection revealed that it not only tasted like mouthwash, but also reeked of alcohol. When the waitress returned, I asked if they had put anything in the coffee. Her reply was something to the effect of "whiskey, duh." When I explained to her that I had not ordered Irish coffee, she insisted that I had. I finally gave up and finished my sandwich.
When my grandkids come to visit me I'm gonna wear a shirt that says "you in 60 years".
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True, my feeling would be more along the lines of something they used in the Flash comics once - My hatred for snow burns hotter than the hinges on the gates of hell.Pff... sissy southerners...
;-)
Don't have to be a southerner :-) I'm born, raised, and living in SE MI and I wouldn't mind never seeing another flake as long as I live ...
And something else that sucks....
The Detroit Lions chances of winning 1 game this comeing year...
Daunte Culpepper...come on...UGH.
Oh, I don't know. If you're going to get stuck with a team that sucks (and we are) at least they're the best at what they do ;)
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Too true...at least IF we win one game this year it will be an improvement.
Nowhere to go but up, right? And take heart, even though they failed to get Cutler, and even though they failed on getting some of the free agents they went after, the fact they've tried doing some right things is a positive sign. Besides, like the Free Press said today (paraphrasing Chaplin), would we really want any free agents that WANTED to come here? :-D
Accidentally drinking poison and then getting a stomach flush from morons.
My hatred for snow burns hotter than the hinges on the gates of hell.
Well, at least I don't have to worry about you moving in next door.
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I had a dentist's appointment on Friday. This wouldn't be bad, except for the fact that the guy is a f@!#ing greedy bastard who likes screwing me out of money. Ten minutes in, he tells me that two of my molars are horribly infected and need to be removed. His next quote almost made me vomit:
"I'm amazed you aren't in horrible pain right now."
No s!!*. Maybe because there's NOTHING WRONG. In any case, they billed me (too much), and I went in for surgery on Monday. I kind of expected this, but they didn't give me enough nitrous oxide or novocaine, and as a result, I FELT EVERYTHING. Also, instead oftaking the teeth out the normal way, this idiot felt it would be better to use a g*&#@%n drum sander to grind the motherf+#$ing things out. I still smell like burning meat, and to top it all off, HE STITCHED ME UP WRONG. I have to go BACK tomorrow so they can take the old stitches out, cut me back up, and stitch it up again.
Losing my job, apartment, car, and girlfriend over the last two weeks...
Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. That is absolutely awful.:(
Losing my job, apartment, car, and girlfriend over the last two weeks...
Sorry about that man. It's a shame when good people like you have bad things happen to them. I hope everything works out.
Great crap in the sunshine, HD. I hate to hear that--so sorry. Do you have a plan or any good leads?
Grits teeth and crosses fingers.
What industries are you looking in? Were you working for a dealership before?
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Admin/Clerical (I'm pretty good with office stuff), Food and Beverage (bartending or managing), Sales, anything having to do with SAP (not having a degree hurts me here, even with five years experience with the SD, PP, MM and WM SAP modules).
I had never sold cars before, but most dealerships recruit service industry types as they seem to thrive in that environment.
Sorry Derek, that's a few tough breaks in a row. Jeez. :\
I had a dentist's appointment on Friday.
Good. Hairy. God.
That is the stuff of nightmares.
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That’s some major suckage right there Derek. Let us know how it all goes.
On the subject of places not hiring a felon (former felon?):
Doesn’t the legal system presume that once you’ve served your time you have been re-habilitated or at least paid your price, and you should be treated the same as anyone else?
I don’t know your situation Derek (I suppose if you’re on parole or something that’s probably different, I don’t know how all that works), and I apologise if I’m taking your comment out of context, or just not understanding the situation. But does anyone know if its actually legal for a business or company not to hire someone based on their criminal record?
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I had a dentist's appointment on Friday. This wouldn't be bad, except for the fact that the guy is a f**@ing greedy bastard who likes screwing me out of money. Ten minutes in, he tells me that two of my molars are horribly infected and need to be removed. His next quote almost made me vomit:
"I'm amazed you aren't in horrible pain right now."
No s~*!. Maybe because there's NOTHING WRONG. In any case, they billed me (too much), and I went in for surgery on Monday. I kind of expected this, but they didn't give me enough nitrous oxide or novocaine, and as a result, I FELT EVERYTHING. Also, instead oftaking the teeth out the normal way, this idiot felt it would be better to use a g*@+$@n drum sander to grind the motherf**@ing things out. I still smell like burning meat, and to top it all off, HE STITCHED ME UP WRONG. I have to go BACK tomorrow so they can take the old stitches out, cut me back up, and stitch it up again.
That sucks.
This might be a stupid question, but why do you still go to this dentist if you know he's a greedy bastard? And why did you go in for the surgery if you thought you didn't need it?
Even on the chance he was right, and you really did, if it were me I'd probably wait till it started to hurt .. or until it started to REALLY hurt. Mind you, I'm currently seeing how long I can suffer through the pain of two of my wisdom teeth trying to push themselves sideways out of my gums, so maybe I'm just odd like that.
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That sucks.
This might be a stupid question, but why do you still go to this dentist if you know he's a greedy bastard? And why did you go in for the surgery if you thought you didn't need it?
1. He's the only dentist within a sixty-mile radius. I live in the middle of f*#~ing nowhere.
2. My insurance covered it, and I wanted him to shut the f~#$ up for once. I'm not going back.
Derek, really sorry to hear about your troubles. I hope things will work out for you.
I cut off a little piece of my finger at work today. It wasn't big, but it did a good job keeping my blood where it belongs. I don't think I need stitches: it's a flat laceration, there aren't really any sides to join and it did clot under the gauze. Well, in the gauze which I had to pull out to change the dressing. And that hurt, but now it's okay I think.
I had a dentist's appointment on Friday.
Ran out of time to type what I wanted, but I sympathize. Few people have the capacity to cause pain in the way a bad dentist can.
I'm pretty sure I've managed to offend pretty much everyone I know this week. As soon as I start trying to put out one fire, I forget something for the next person, and it just keeps going :(
Getting a letter saying that I'll be getting roughly $2,000 back in taxes... Wohoo!
Only to read further down and see that it's all being withheld to pay an unpaid tv-license (which I have previously cancelled, but got sent a payment request anyway) and a part of my student loan (which they haven't requested I start paying yet...). *Sigh*
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My turn. To make a long story shorter…
...snip...
I accomplished little, and I felt like a TOTAL idiot for having trusted this girl in the first place. So much for patience and understanding :(
OTOH, you are a good person and she is an ass.
For me, the suckage is working every day since the middle of Feb. If this satellite ends up at the bottom of the ocean like the last one I'm going to be peeved!
Dad died today... 52.... three days of torture plugged into machines... no chance to say goodbye... Life currently Sucks!!!
Had to vent a little please continue with the ordinary suckage!
I am so sorry for your loss.
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R.I.P. Brian Sann (1947-2009)
Brian Sann, mathematics teacher and retired actuary, was killed in a tragic freak accident early this morning while raking leaves at his Silver Bay home. Apparently, he inadvertently dislodged a stone, causing two larger boulders to careen down the mountainside. One hit Mr. Sann in the chest, while the second impacted his head, killing him instantly. He was 62 years old.
Brian Sann was one of the first people to take notice of me when I moved to Ticonderoga, New York. His job at the school district was to keep track of the kids designated as "gifted," and was also the advisor for the mathematics club. I was one of his charges for two years, and under his tutelage, I learned quite a bit- not necessarily about math, but always something interesting. You'll be missed, Mr. S.