Thank you, mysterious benefactor who bought me time. I'm back now, at least for a bit. I have my suspicions of swho you are, but I'll keep those to myself in case of the very likely event that I am wrong.
There's news, but I'm sitting on it for now. Been a busy long while, in any case, and I am a better man for it.
'Til soon.
tensix
There's news, but I'm sitting on it for now. Been a busy long while, in any case, and I am a better man for it.
'Til soon.
tensix
Though in general I hate television, every now and then I watch it all the same. I really like Cops. It's kind of a reminder, really... no matter how bleak things look right now, at least I'm not an eighty pound heroin addict being chased down the street by a half naked Will Shatner. You know?
Things are alright.
yrs,
tensix
Things are alright.
yrs,
tensix
Dangers of not using--and by extension, not cleaning--a room in one's house that is inhabited by a man known to perpetually wallow in filth include such lovely, lovely presences as indoor insect swarms. Know how sometimes you're walking outside, and you get near something with fruit on it, and all of a sudden you can't fucking see because you're walking through a cloud of tiny black flying dots? That's what my kitchen looked like this afternoon when I went to make breakfast. There was not, to my knowledge, a swarm of fruit flies in my house yesterday. There is today. Copious amounts of Raid did the trick temporarily, though within a few hours the damn things were repopulating. Tensix is not pleased.
As per usual, of five people who reside here, I am not the only one bothered by the situation, but I'll be the only one that does anything about it. I do not recommend it.
yrs,
tensix
As per usual, of five people who reside here, I am not the only one bothered by the situation, but I'll be the only one that does anything about it. I do not recommend it.
yrs,
tensix
So. Random aside.
It's really fucking weird sleeping from eight AM to four PM local time. Kind of makes it awkward to get anything fucking done during the day too. I either get to "stay up" 'til places open, or drag my ass out of bed before they close.
In conclusion, working nights, while it does kind of blow, at least means I get to hang out with random Australians. Accents from other continents than my own are, in general, pretty sexy. So, this works out well.
However, that does not change the fact that I'm kind of hungry. I think I need to get up early this afternoon and buy food. Believe it or not, consisting on rum and soup crackers doesn't work so well for more than a day or so; these two things and water being about the only consumables my home is presently stocked with. Funk knows I'm enough of a stick-boy as it is.
Yep. I'm livin' the high life. Or something akin to exactly the opposite. I get the two confused sometimes.
yrs,
tensix
It's really fucking weird sleeping from eight AM to four PM local time. Kind of makes it awkward to get anything fucking done during the day too. I either get to "stay up" 'til places open, or drag my ass out of bed before they close.
In conclusion, working nights, while it does kind of blow, at least means I get to hang out with random Australians. Accents from other continents than my own are, in general, pretty sexy. So, this works out well.
However, that does not change the fact that I'm kind of hungry. I think I need to get up early this afternoon and buy food. Believe it or not, consisting on rum and soup crackers doesn't work so well for more than a day or so; these two things and water being about the only consumables my home is presently stocked with. Funk knows I'm enough of a stick-boy as it is.
Yep. I'm livin' the high life. Or something akin to exactly the opposite. I get the two confused sometimes.
yrs,
tensix
So yeah. Long time no talk, eh? I know, I know, I am a bad friend. I'll see about writing more, even when I have shit all to say. Especially when I have shit all to say, as that is pretty much all the time. So, in the absence of any real content, let me tell you a story. This particular story is something I am reminded of, sitting here waiting for a phone call that was supposed to come two and a half hours ago and is never going to. Kind of sucked at the time and still kind of does, but there is humour in it. The ability to laugh at one's own misfortune is an important one.
The event in question takes place about two years ago. It was late, I was kind of bored, and speaking to an old female friend of mine on the phone. We probably would have dated at some point but never did, despite a mutual attraction to one another, as I was unavailable when I met her, and when I became single she was not. By the time she was also single, we were already friends and figured we may as well keep it that way. I wondered, sometimes, what it would have been like if we'd made a different decision. As it turned out, so did she.
We started, as often we did, randomly flirting with one another. She and I could, and still can, have entire conversations consisting of nothing but innuendo and double entendre. After a while, she commented that having been single for the last six months, she felt somewhat sexually deprived. Being both male and romantically retarded, I missed the sign, made the safer assumption that it was further idle flirting, and kept on as we were. She sounded somewhat annoyed, as she does when I do something dumb, repeated herself, and I got the hint. The opportunity was not to be missed. Arrangements were made. As both of us were residing with our respective families at the time, who were home that night, we could not exactly go to one of our houses. It was late at night and fairly warm though, and she knew of a field that would work. I left post haste to pick her up, stopping along the way to purchase condoms, as the last ones I had reason to buy expired some time prior.
We arrived. It had been two years since last I had known the touch of a woman. I was ready. She was willing. I was excited at the prospect of finally realizing the expected happy ending of a long mutual attraction, and so was she. We spent a moment groping at one another in the truck before stepping out.
I locked the fucking keys in my truck.
Unsurprisingly, it kind of killed her mood.
The condoms are still in my wallet, long expired, and I became probably the only man in the world capable of going out for the sole purpose of getting laid and still managing to strike out. The walk home to get my keys and then back to where I'd parked was the longest and most humiliating of my life.
Call it angst if you want, but sometimes I think the experience quite neatly encapsulates my entire existence.
yrs,
tensix
The event in question takes place about two years ago. It was late, I was kind of bored, and speaking to an old female friend of mine on the phone. We probably would have dated at some point but never did, despite a mutual attraction to one another, as I was unavailable when I met her, and when I became single she was not. By the time she was also single, we were already friends and figured we may as well keep it that way. I wondered, sometimes, what it would have been like if we'd made a different decision. As it turned out, so did she.
We started, as often we did, randomly flirting with one another. She and I could, and still can, have entire conversations consisting of nothing but innuendo and double entendre. After a while, she commented that having been single for the last six months, she felt somewhat sexually deprived. Being both male and romantically retarded, I missed the sign, made the safer assumption that it was further idle flirting, and kept on as we were. She sounded somewhat annoyed, as she does when I do something dumb, repeated herself, and I got the hint. The opportunity was not to be missed. Arrangements were made. As both of us were residing with our respective families at the time, who were home that night, we could not exactly go to one of our houses. It was late at night and fairly warm though, and she knew of a field that would work. I left post haste to pick her up, stopping along the way to purchase condoms, as the last ones I had reason to buy expired some time prior.
We arrived. It had been two years since last I had known the touch of a woman. I was ready. She was willing. I was excited at the prospect of finally realizing the expected happy ending of a long mutual attraction, and so was she. We spent a moment groping at one another in the truck before stepping out.
I locked the fucking keys in my truck.
Unsurprisingly, it kind of killed her mood.
The condoms are still in my wallet, long expired, and I became probably the only man in the world capable of going out for the sole purpose of getting laid and still managing to strike out. The walk home to get my keys and then back to where I'd parked was the longest and most humiliating of my life.
Call it angst if you want, but sometimes I think the experience quite neatly encapsulates my entire existence.
yrs,
tensix
Happy new beer... er... year. And all the rest of that. I guess it's a very Tensixish thing to do, disappearing at random right after I came back. It's kind of my thing, vanishing when I don't mean to. Sucks. And as per usual, I haven't even been busy either Aside from the obligatory family Christmas visit, about all I have done since the 22nd was help Decibel move a television and sit about in my box/haven/prison/bedroom. It is what one might call for the lose.
However, it should also be noted that the BrewKrew will still shoot you up good, should we see you on the Battlefield of 2142. So there.
yrs,
tensix
However, it should also be noted that the BrewKrew will still shoot you up good, should we see you on the Battlefield of 2142. So there.
yrs,
tensix
So. I exist again.
Funny story about that. In short, the bank was being a tool, and I ended up losing most of my moneys, as well as my credit card. It is kind of humbling to have a bank account with 57 cents in it. It sucked a lot. More specifically, it sucked on donkey penises. You can watch the reruns on Pay Per View. But it is mostly all okay now, and I am back.
My furnace did not explode, by the by, in case you hadn't figured. Landlady's still a waste of (a whole lot of) flesh though.
Honestly though? I didn't really do anything very interesting while I was gone. I think that is why I don't write in here often. I don't really do stuff. Oh well.
Yeah. This qualifies as my worst entry. Ever.
yrs,
tesix
Funny story about that. In short, the bank was being a tool, and I ended up losing most of my moneys, as well as my credit card. It is kind of humbling to have a bank account with 57 cents in it. It sucked a lot. More specifically, it sucked on donkey penises. You can watch the reruns on Pay Per View. But it is mostly all okay now, and I am back.
My furnace did not explode, by the by, in case you hadn't figured. Landlady's still a waste of (a whole lot of) flesh though.
Honestly though? I didn't really do anything very interesting while I was gone. I think that is why I don't write in here often. I don't really do stuff. Oh well.
Yeah. This qualifies as my worst entry. Ever.
yrs,
tesix
So yeah. In essence, I am presently living above a large, marginally stable shrapnel bomb.
Amongst other gongshows that have happened with this house, the furnace has been giving us problems. It documents itself as being due to be cleaned in 2002. I am uncertain of the last time it was inspected. Other stickers of last work done plastered to it go back as far as 1981. I do not pretend to be a furnace expert (or to know anything at all about them, really), but I am fairly certain four years is a long time for a furnace to be overdue for cleaning.
My landlady is an idiot. She lives in a dream world, one where pilot lights don't go out, where furnaces can't produce carbon monoxide when not properly maintained, where parts don't wear out and break with time, and where filters aren't necessary. She encouraged me, rather prickishly I might add, to just turn the damn thing on, adamantly refusing to even entertain the notion of having it looked at, citing work done on it last year as evidence that it must be fine. No documentation could be produced to support these claims of work, of course. The fucking thing didn't even have a filter in it. And, for those of you who might be reading this and don't live in this city, it has been kind of cold and snowy lately. My house has not been nice to live in with no heat.
Today, we finally got filters out of her, installed them, and went to turn the furnace on. The pilot light was out, of course, despite repeated assurances that it would be no worry. After some time tinkering with it, we couldn't figure out how the hell to get it lit. So we called the landlady. After several hours she bothered to return my call. After some further time tinkering with it, she couldn't figure out how the hell to get it lit. So, she called a furnace tech. And it's a fucking good thing it came to that.
Turns out the furnace has a gas leak. And the reason it was so hard to get the gas going was because it was turned off with an eye towards keeping it that way. It won't turn off now. Or even slow down. It's getting kind of warm in here as I write this, except we can't turn the furnace off because the gas control valve is broken. If the pilot goes, the basement fills with gas. Did I mention the dude that sleeps down there? Yeah. Not me thankfully, but he's a good sort. I'd rather not see him gassed to death. Still, at least we know this, so we won't be unwittingly sending some poor sap downstairs to die in a fiery explosion in an attempt to relight it when it inevitably goes out sometime, as we otherwise would have been.
Furnace repair guy tomorrow.
Restless sleep now.
yrs,
tensix
Amongst other gongshows that have happened with this house, the furnace has been giving us problems. It documents itself as being due to be cleaned in 2002. I am uncertain of the last time it was inspected. Other stickers of last work done plastered to it go back as far as 1981. I do not pretend to be a furnace expert (or to know anything at all about them, really), but I am fairly certain four years is a long time for a furnace to be overdue for cleaning.
My landlady is an idiot. She lives in a dream world, one where pilot lights don't go out, where furnaces can't produce carbon monoxide when not properly maintained, where parts don't wear out and break with time, and where filters aren't necessary. She encouraged me, rather prickishly I might add, to just turn the damn thing on, adamantly refusing to even entertain the notion of having it looked at, citing work done on it last year as evidence that it must be fine. No documentation could be produced to support these claims of work, of course. The fucking thing didn't even have a filter in it. And, for those of you who might be reading this and don't live in this city, it has been kind of cold and snowy lately. My house has not been nice to live in with no heat.
Today, we finally got filters out of her, installed them, and went to turn the furnace on. The pilot light was out, of course, despite repeated assurances that it would be no worry. After some time tinkering with it, we couldn't figure out how the hell to get it lit. So we called the landlady. After several hours she bothered to return my call. After some further time tinkering with it, she couldn't figure out how the hell to get it lit. So, she called a furnace tech. And it's a fucking good thing it came to that.
Turns out the furnace has a gas leak. And the reason it was so hard to get the gas going was because it was turned off with an eye towards keeping it that way. It won't turn off now. Or even slow down. It's getting kind of warm in here as I write this, except we can't turn the furnace off because the gas control valve is broken. If the pilot goes, the basement fills with gas. Did I mention the dude that sleeps down there? Yeah. Not me thankfully, but he's a good sort. I'd rather not see him gassed to death. Still, at least we know this, so we won't be unwittingly sending some poor sap downstairs to die in a fiery explosion in an attempt to relight it when it inevitably goes out sometime, as we otherwise would have been.
Furnace repair guy tomorrow.
Restless sleep now.
yrs,
tensix
It is weird hanging out with MistressMinx sometimes, because my brain references her as "Minx" except it's kind of odd to call her that around other humans who have no idea where it comes from. This is apparently an oddity for her (and, for that matter, Decibel) as well.
So yeah, I'm not actually dead or in jail in case there was a pool going. I am just a lazy bastard who hasn't updated in however the hell many months. Things have even happened since last I wrote! I've moved, twice actually, to different places about the city. I'm presently in a nice house with some good friends of mine, which is for awesome. Though we are being screwed around by the landlady, which is for not awesome.
Other things progress as they do. Next time you see me drunk, ask me about my trip to Seattle. It's a lot more entertaining when I'm inebriated. It's kind of funny, though, how I can blow time and money on that, and only later realize I've had better options sitting right in front of me the whole time. I can but hope I'll grow a pair soon and do something about that. We'll see. If you look up, wou will see that I am, in fact, much akin to Don Juan's retarded younger brother Chico. It's on the Internet, so it must be true.
Beyond that, I got nothin'. It's 2:30 AM and I have class in six hours. So I bid you all goodnight!
yrs,
tensix
So yeah, I'm not actually dead or in jail in case there was a pool going. I am just a lazy bastard who hasn't updated in however the hell many months. Things have even happened since last I wrote! I've moved, twice actually, to different places about the city. I'm presently in a nice house with some good friends of mine, which is for awesome. Though we are being screwed around by the landlady, which is for not awesome.
Other things progress as they do. Next time you see me drunk, ask me about my trip to Seattle. It's a lot more entertaining when I'm inebriated. It's kind of funny, though, how I can blow time and money on that, and only later realize I've had better options sitting right in front of me the whole time. I can but hope I'll grow a pair soon and do something about that. We'll see. If you look up, wou will see that I am, in fact, much akin to Don Juan's retarded younger brother Chico. It's on the Internet, so it must be true.
Beyond that, I got nothin'. It's 2:30 AM and I have class in six hours. So I bid you all goodnight!
yrs,
tensix
So I am back home now. Huzzah for that!! And yeah, next time I ever think about doing something like that again, I need volunteers to come kick me in the groin repeatedly until I change my mind. Decibel has already volunteered, and I will grant that with the number of times that dude tends to can me on a regular basis anyway he's more than qualified to dispense package-kickage (also, "package-kickage" is just kind of fun to say), though the more the merrier. My wallet and brain will thank you, even if my gonads do not.
The entire week I was gone was a gongshow of proportions which I had not thought possible. My luggage was lost twice, I was searched in customs on suspicion of being a drug mule, my ride forgot I was coming, and the place I was promised for sleeping turned out to not be available for me. That was just the first day. Things went downhill from there. I do not recommend it.
yrs,
tensix
The entire week I was gone was a gongshow of proportions which I had not thought possible. My luggage was lost twice, I was searched in customs on suspicion of being a drug mule, my ride forgot I was coming, and the place I was promised for sleeping turned out to not be available for me. That was just the first day. Things went downhill from there. I do not recommend it.
yrs,
tensix
OCTOBER 2010
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