A Big Ol' Bucket Of Fuckity Stew

A Big Ol' Bucket Of Fuckity Stew

Monday night I lost my internet connection, directly after hooking up my new monitor. (And thanks to the lovely D9 for said monitor, porn is so much LIVELIER now.)

I called Roadrunner Tuesday morning before going to work. the cunt had the nerve to apologize for not being able to help me over the phone even though she made NO EFFORT WHATSOEVER to do so.

So I was set up for the guy to come out yesterday. Except I wans't. I called in yesterday and found out the cunt hadn't actually set up the fucking appointment.

So it got done today.

In about 20 seconds.

There's a button on top of the modem. A standby switch. I'd apparantly hit it when moving the computer around to accomodate the shorter cord from the new monitor.

It's IMPOSSIBLE to see this button in this shitty room with my shitty eyes. So, in other words, I sent the fuckers out here for nothing, except to show me a fucking BUTTON that I was too stupid to look for.

Ahhh, I love life.

I'd planned on leaving with Katie tonight for Marion, but I had shti to catch up on. You wouldn't believe the EVIL that lived in my kitchen. I've barely been here for days. Just long enough to throw something in the microwave, eat, pass out, and wake back up and leave. SOMEHOW I've managed to turn a three-room apartment into a SHITSTORM after spending a grand total of six or seven waking hours in four days here.

A couple nights ago, I went out to a bar, first time in eons. Spent almost 20 bucks and got NOWHERE. Poon was not to be had that night. I had two women look at me like I was a wet rat asking for shelter, and another one let me buy her a drink and then left in less than five minutes, after pretty much telling me she wanted to fuck every guy on the planet but ME.

I could've stayed home, pounded off, ordered a pizza, and still drank as well and saved five bucks.

I went to the store tonight. Cute girl behind the counter. Big girl, but very cute.

I said hi, asked her if they were keeping her busy (which is a stupid question, but I'm not very imaginative when trying to get pussy) and within NANOSECONDS, she was scratching her head, her ring finger in clear view, showing off the ring.

Cunt. Just SAY I'm an asshole and you're not gonna fuck me. Don't do it in goddamn sign language.

Work at The Shit Shoppe (my new name for the outlet center) is going well. Not a bad gig, and I get to fuck with the supervisor. I called him an asshole five times today and he didn't fire me. Cool guy. But there's other suprervisors, and they're all female. Which leads me to an important question:

Why is it that every time I get a job at one of these places, the one woman in the entire building who I want to fuck the most is always the one I'm WORKING FOR???

C is a big-built lady in her early to mid 40s. Thick dark-blonde hair halfway down her back. Big rack. A BIG fucking ass. I LOVE her ass. She's worn tight jeans the last few days and I was weenus-at-the-ready for her. You could serve drinks on that ass it's so big, but it's also a model of geometric perfection in its utter roundness and...uh...assness.

her only physical flaw is that she wears more eye makeup than she needs to. Otherwise, she's not only hot with a killer ass, she's also very friendly and sweet, and cool, and...uh...

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! !!!!

Once again, I want to fuck The Boss. Jesus creeping shit.

The big festival gig tomorrow. Weather does not look promising, but we'll see. Two more days and M is no longer a member of the band. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that.

Lots of dishes done, vacuum run. The place almost looks liveable. Now I need to get the owner out here with someone to fix the garbage disposal (which went bye-bye recently) and the cold water knob on the bathroom sink, which broke off in my hand with almost no effort a few weeks back.

I've had Hendrix stuck in my head singing I Don't Live Today for hours now. I haven't midned one bit.

Love,
Dougie