Turf Marking

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Warm Fuzzy Freudian Slippers, Ltd.
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Things you need to know:
  • Some posts, or the links they contain, are NSFW. This is your only warning.
  • This blog serves the cause of my freedom of speech, not yours. I wield censorship like a 10 year-old boy who just found his father's handgun.

Saturday, July 28, 2007

Been meaning to share this bit from Dar Kush
The strangest thing. The more you need to meditate, to journal, to do the internal stuff, the more the external world will collaborate to convince you you don’t need to do it. All of the inner voices will rise up like a chorus and scream at you that anything, anything, is more important than that inner work. Cutting your neighbor’s cat’s toenails seems more important.
I've found this to be true of just about anything and everything that "threatens," so to speak, to move me forward.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Your Score: Serious Cat
50% Affectionate, 34% Excitable, 55% Hungry

Hungry for knowledge in any internet forum, you demand decorum. Any off-topic remarks, absurd statements, or tomfoolery on the interweb is deeply frowned upon by you. Truth has no room for drollery.

To see all possible results, checka dis.

Link: The Which Lolcat Are You? Test written by GumOtaku on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test
Forgot where I got this, but...
Bacon Salt
So wrong, yet so right.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

It's how they get here, that bothers me.

That's what I get for naming the blog what I named it.

Friday, July 13, 2007

This gets out of 5.

Yes, that's Dame Shirley herself. Yes, it's the Pink song. Yes, it's real. And yes, my brain is leaking out my nose and messing up my shirt.

From Kung Fu Monkey.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Via Horizon, the Blake's 7 Appreciation Society
27 November 1918 - 9 July 2007

I'm sorry to have to share the sad news with you that Peter Tuddenham died on Monday 9th July after a short illness, aged 88. Dear husband of Rosemary, and much loved father of Mark, Julian and the late Jamie. We know you will all want to join us at Horizon in offering them our deepest sympathy at this sad time.

The voices of Zen, Orac and Slave are now silent, but our memories of this lovely, warm, friendly, entertaining and hugely talented man will be with us always as we celebrate a life well-lived. We will miss you, Peter.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Now that I've had a long weekend, taken an extra day off (with another coming), and let go of my feelings of entitlement, I'm a much happier person than I was this time last week. I'm actually ready to go back to work (for a three-day week...two-and-a-half if you don't count the seminar I'm scheduled to fall asleep in attend tomorrow morning.

The camping trip was fun. Sure, it meant leaving a whole bunch of stuff half-finished. My inbox here at home is so full, I don't want to deal. Stuff to read, write, and file. But at least I have the energy to care and am relaxed enough to do something about it all.

I'm still looking forward to my next day off, though. I'm almost recovered. I almost feel like a normal human being again, except for a stiff neck that hasn't gotten better in a week (it actually got a touch worse after the trip, but it's gotten back to where it's been). But I'm not quite there yet. The (metaphorical) Hulk is still a bit too close to the surface for my taste.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Jesus H. Christ, it's 4:30--why can't I fucking go to sleep. Man, to add cosmic insult to cosmic injury, I can't even be in the best shape to make use of the limited time I have to get shit done because I can't even fucking sleep.

I'm going to be one pissed off firecracker tomorrow. The only thing for it is to drink as many red eyes and Red Bulls as I can get my hands on.

This isn't right, I tell you. This just isn't fucking right.
Between today and Monday, my sole mission statement is to recapture my vacation to which I'm entitled because of all my hard work. I haven't been able to take it before now because of circumstances beyond anyone's control. But I've decided that (a) no one can return lost time and (b) no one will ever care for my time off as much as I will.

Therefore, my response to everything and anything--pleas for help, deviations from my plans, unexpected events which require effort on my part to effect some sort of response--from now until next Monday when I have to report back to work is going to be, "I'm on vacation."

It didn't help that the one free day I had was today, a holiday, where anywhere I'd be remotely interested in going was either closed or closed early. Now I'm all for the 4th of July, but I couldn't even get some normal mind-numbing TV tonight, for Christ's sake. I wanted some peace and quiet and all I got were fireworks and "Stars and Stripes Forever."

There's a chance, since my boss knew as I was leaving on my "vacation" what I was heading into, that I might be allowed some additional time off (though I have no real idea when). God damn it, I can taste that time. And I know exactly what I have to do to protect it in advance so that nothing will intrude on it. Truthfully, I don't even plan on telling folks when it'll be.

You see, this was going to be the week where my writing wouldn't have to be crammed in between work shifts and other things. I didn't get that. I was extremely angry about it yesterday, but I'm mostly over that. I'm sublimating those emotions into (a) plotting how I'm going to get myself the time off that I should've had in the first place and (b) making damn sure I'm as rested as I can possibly get between now and next Monday. It's not going to be much, but God damn it, "I'm on vacation," and I'm going to make fucking sure the rest of the world knows it! I'm going to cash in on the credit I've earned myself this week for all my various "good deeds."

"I'm on vacation." The mantra for the rest of the week. Here are some examples on how I plan to use it.
Random Wheeze: Hey, would you mind? We could use a hand with this.
Me: I'm on vacation.

Phone: *Ring ring*
Me: (Oblivious because the ringer will remain off for the rest of the week) I'm on vacation.
Selfish? Hey, screw it--I'm on vacation.