What the fuck... it's 4am and I'm just now getting home and posting shit...
First the good stuff.
Maxx and I assist WhiteTrashParty and JayGray with preparations for tomorrow night's SGLA BBQ. It should be quite the shindig, seriously. We make a Costco run. Highlights include Guinness sold by the case, burgers (beef & boca) and dogs for everyone, nearly buying a 30lb drum of mustard until realizing a) nobody would consume that much, and b) someone would probably end up wearing it... and the Costco sized Jack.
Paging Dr. Daniels. Dr. Jack Daniels... I don't even like the stuff, but I'm proud to be a part of any endeavor that would justify the Costco size bottle of Jack. And a Costco sized Jose Cuervo (margaritas anyone?).
So then we join forces with the NotMySl... wait he's back to
WhippedCream and bodiddly and head out to Claremont (I don't know the map well, but it was far enough that I thought we'd crossed into Nevada), where we also connected with Voodoo (dude seriously, I can't type your full nick out) and enjoy a radical bit of the live theater known as Rocky Horror Show, starring (or at least featuring) Fraggle as the Criminologist... The show was simply fabo... highlights (and scary bits) included Maxx winning a contest that involved going down on a banana, me getting tagged as a virgin despite having seen the flick a zillion times and seeing it live once before, "thrust, suck, blow", beautiful people in lingerie, and generally good clean fun. Or dirty fun...
Bodiddly and I make what we felt was a much needed donut stop. Life should have more of those.
The donuts looked so tasty... they were calling my name, but I resisted since donuts as big as my head are also sticky...
It was about 5 minutes after taking Bodiddly home that things turned sour. Hit the mother of all potholes (seriously, I bet Osama's hiding in it), causing a FUCKING BLOWOUT!!! Thank goodness I resisted the temptation of the donuts, because without both hands Mr. Skull
would be writing this entry while I would be gearing up for trilo-traction. I wrestle my poor injured car to the side of the road without being fiercely killed. Son. Of. A. Bitch. It's raining. There's a hole in my tire as big as my fist. The rim has a dent. And the bolts were machine tightened (fortunately I'm not the wuss I appear to be, and managed to get them loosened and off in short order).
Now my car gets a donut. The little lame kind that will help me limp home, so I can take my ruined wheel to a shop on a Friday before a holiday weekend and try to get some level of rush service HAHAHAHA
Another mile down the road, and the donut's making weird noises. Pull off, only to see the donut's in ruins. Dry rot or low tire pressure, don't know which (I've had the car since the tail end of 95, this was the first time I touched the donut). So I dial up the AAA.
11 minutes, they say. Sounds promising, sounds definitive. Not 10-15 minutes, but they nail it down to 11 minutes. Cool. Well, 45 minmutes later, I'm first visited by an "off the clock" driver who will get my ass back to Burbank for a fistful of under the table cash. I tell him AAA's on the way, blah blah blah. 10 minutes later they arrive, only to tell me they're only taking my ass off the freeway, that they don't have time to take me the 15 miles home. FUCKERS!
They drop me at a gas station, where I'm supposed to hang out until they call me and let me know the deal, and how soon I can get home. Ten minutes later, the tanker truck dude arrives, and he's pissed that I'm blocking his access to the refuel tanks. He tries to threaten me by saying he'll have my car towed. I call his bluff, seeing as that's what I wanted most at that moment. Fucker was bluffing. He got back in his truck and drove around a while.
An hour later, and finally someone gets there. He's cool, and doesn't understand why the other company wasn't able to hook me up - after all, he says, it's a really slow night and you're not far at all.
Of course, I'm outside the free zone, so he wants like $60 for the tow. Only plus side, if you can call it that, is that when he whined about my wanting to put it on my card I was able to negotiate $40 in cash. And after dropping the car someplace, he drove me home. No kiss goodnight though LOL...
So I've already called the boss at the horrible job, I can imagine that I'll be catching serious grief (this is the kind of joint where they call you when you're sick to make sure you're really at home). And of course there will be schedule juggling and all that crapola.
After tonight's swing into hell, I need for things to swing back out way positive and get back to some level of balance. Wish me luck, I hope you had a much better day than I did, and I hope your weekend rocks your socks.
trilo
[edited because I fuck up links when I'm tired and pissed off]
First the good stuff.
Maxx and I assist WhiteTrashParty and JayGray with preparations for tomorrow night's SGLA BBQ. It should be quite the shindig, seriously. We make a Costco run. Highlights include Guinness sold by the case, burgers (beef & boca) and dogs for everyone, nearly buying a 30lb drum of mustard until realizing a) nobody would consume that much, and b) someone would probably end up wearing it... and the Costco sized Jack.
Paging Dr. Daniels. Dr. Jack Daniels... I don't even like the stuff, but I'm proud to be a part of any endeavor that would justify the Costco size bottle of Jack. And a Costco sized Jose Cuervo (margaritas anyone?).
So then we join forces with the NotMySl... wait he's back to
WhippedCream and bodiddly and head out to Claremont (I don't know the map well, but it was far enough that I thought we'd crossed into Nevada), where we also connected with Voodoo (dude seriously, I can't type your full nick out) and enjoy a radical bit of the live theater known as Rocky Horror Show, starring (or at least featuring) Fraggle as the Criminologist... The show was simply fabo... highlights (and scary bits) included Maxx winning a contest that involved going down on a banana, me getting tagged as a virgin despite having seen the flick a zillion times and seeing it live once before, "thrust, suck, blow", beautiful people in lingerie, and generally good clean fun. Or dirty fun...
Bodiddly and I make what we felt was a much needed donut stop. Life should have more of those.
The donuts looked so tasty... they were calling my name, but I resisted since donuts as big as my head are also sticky...
It was about 5 minutes after taking Bodiddly home that things turned sour. Hit the mother of all potholes (seriously, I bet Osama's hiding in it), causing a FUCKING BLOWOUT!!! Thank goodness I resisted the temptation of the donuts, because without both hands Mr. Skull
would be writing this entry while I would be gearing up for trilo-traction. I wrestle my poor injured car to the side of the road without being fiercely killed. Son. Of. A. Bitch. It's raining. There's a hole in my tire as big as my fist. The rim has a dent. And the bolts were machine tightened (fortunately I'm not the wuss I appear to be, and managed to get them loosened and off in short order).
Now my car gets a donut. The little lame kind that will help me limp home, so I can take my ruined wheel to a shop on a Friday before a holiday weekend and try to get some level of rush service HAHAHAHA
Another mile down the road, and the donut's making weird noises. Pull off, only to see the donut's in ruins. Dry rot or low tire pressure, don't know which (I've had the car since the tail end of 95, this was the first time I touched the donut). So I dial up the AAA.
11 minutes, they say. Sounds promising, sounds definitive. Not 10-15 minutes, but they nail it down to 11 minutes. Cool. Well, 45 minmutes later, I'm first visited by an "off the clock" driver who will get my ass back to Burbank for a fistful of under the table cash. I tell him AAA's on the way, blah blah blah. 10 minutes later they arrive, only to tell me they're only taking my ass off the freeway, that they don't have time to take me the 15 miles home. FUCKERS!
They drop me at a gas station, where I'm supposed to hang out until they call me and let me know the deal, and how soon I can get home. Ten minutes later, the tanker truck dude arrives, and he's pissed that I'm blocking his access to the refuel tanks. He tries to threaten me by saying he'll have my car towed. I call his bluff, seeing as that's what I wanted most at that moment. Fucker was bluffing. He got back in his truck and drove around a while.
An hour later, and finally someone gets there. He's cool, and doesn't understand why the other company wasn't able to hook me up - after all, he says, it's a really slow night and you're not far at all.
Of course, I'm outside the free zone, so he wants like $60 for the tow. Only plus side, if you can call it that, is that when he whined about my wanting to put it on my card I was able to negotiate $40 in cash. And after dropping the car someplace, he drove me home. No kiss goodnight though LOL...
So I've already called the boss at the horrible job, I can imagine that I'll be catching serious grief (this is the kind of joint where they call you when you're sick to make sure you're really at home). And of course there will be schedule juggling and all that crapola.
After tonight's swing into hell, I need for things to swing back out way positive and get back to some level of balance. Wish me luck, I hope you had a much better day than I did, and I hope your weekend rocks your socks.
trilo
[edited because I fuck up links when I'm tired and pissed off]
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
spacepod:
wow! sounds like my bad luck, i hope i didn't rub off on you. doh!
ikilledpinky:
when those lyrics came to mind, it was the acoustic version playing in my head, to me there is no other version. wow, what a fucking night