surlyclown

So, the new tattoo is itchy and scaley and scaby and molty...but at least it's not hot out or anything so it isn't driving me even more batshit.

In other news, my clock/radio died. It made some warbly noise I didn't comprehend until I looked at the time and it said: :01. Poor thing. Now the thing that blows my tiny little mind is I received said Panasonic clock/radio/alarm as a high school graduation gift NINETEEN YEARS AGO. Yes, holy fuck, that means two things:

1. I'm old. (And less than a week from being another year older.)
2. This little contraption has rousted me out of slumber for over half my life...and longer than a great many of the people on this site have been like...alive. (See point #1.)

I can't tell you how many times I hit that snoozebar...how many hours of KROQ I slept through, cause Kevin and Bean haven't really been funny for like 10 years...how many times I was rousted by its dulcet 'BZZZ BZZZ BZZZ'...or how many times I punched the thing--hard, trying to get it to stop that fucking 'BZZZ BZZZ BZZZ' noise. Poor little guy...you'll be missed.

In the meantime, I have to find a new one and dammit...I'm not sure I'm ready. Thank goodness I'm jobless at the moment and it really doesn't matter.

Oh yeah, I'm flying to Winnipeg to see my fiancee on Monday next week and spend my birthday up there. Got a few things on the docket already, though I really just want to snuggle with my woman.