The universe continues to scoff at me. Or perhaps a deaf god ignores my pleas.
Anyway, so this week sucks, too:
1) Shingles. Not the roofing, the resurgance of the chicken pox that I thought I had beat 25 years ago. Turns out that volunteering out in the cold for 6 hours at the Obama rally may have weakened my immune system enough for chicken pox to make a jailbreak. Thus, all those ER tests were for naught, it was just an uppity childhood disease. Wonderful that I still get to pay for the ER, though. At least I got a tall of vicodin (also helpful since my sprained ankle still hurts).
2) Gary Gygax died. The creator of Dungeons & Dragons and the author of the books that guaranteed that I would grow up to be a maladjusted loner geek (or, alternatively, mitigated the pain of being a maladjusted loner geek if said condition was inevitable). I have done the following in memory of this man, without whom modern gaming would have been very different: Observed 1d6 rounds of contemplative silence, rolled a natural 20, eaten a pizza, drank some orange soda, cried a little, and imagined Mr. Gygax telling his players to roll initiative at the great gaming table in the sky.
Rest well, old friend. May Tenser's Floating Disk carry thee to thy rest within 1 turn/level of caster.
3) Brett Favre retired. I'm from Wisconsin. He was the best player that ever lived, okay? I'm allowed to think him retiring sucks. Dude could have kept playing as long as he wanted, as far as I care. Okay. I'm over it now. I suppose he will have to make due with his beautiful wife and mountains of money.
4) This fucking primary won't end. It's getting to the point where Hillary Clinton is becoming a cartoonish supervillain bent on destroying the Democratic party if she can't win the nomination... and, short of the ghost of Lee Harvey Oswald taking a keen interest in Barack Obama, she can't. I'm on too many drugs to deal with this. Go home, Hillary. Yes, you won a net 12 delegates yesterday. I'm very proud of you. Now cut it out. And take that nutjob Jack Nicholson with you. I don't want him to tell me that you'll give me a blowjob again. Christ.
If I hadn't run into an old friend from Ground Zero at The Seville yesterday, I'd be writing the whole week off already. Still waiting for redemption, people.
Anyway, so this week sucks, too:
1) Shingles. Not the roofing, the resurgance of the chicken pox that I thought I had beat 25 years ago. Turns out that volunteering out in the cold for 6 hours at the Obama rally may have weakened my immune system enough for chicken pox to make a jailbreak. Thus, all those ER tests were for naught, it was just an uppity childhood disease. Wonderful that I still get to pay for the ER, though. At least I got a tall of vicodin (also helpful since my sprained ankle still hurts).
2) Gary Gygax died. The creator of Dungeons & Dragons and the author of the books that guaranteed that I would grow up to be a maladjusted loner geek (or, alternatively, mitigated the pain of being a maladjusted loner geek if said condition was inevitable). I have done the following in memory of this man, without whom modern gaming would have been very different: Observed 1d6 rounds of contemplative silence, rolled a natural 20, eaten a pizza, drank some orange soda, cried a little, and imagined Mr. Gygax telling his players to roll initiative at the great gaming table in the sky.
Rest well, old friend. May Tenser's Floating Disk carry thee to thy rest within 1 turn/level of caster.
3) Brett Favre retired. I'm from Wisconsin. He was the best player that ever lived, okay? I'm allowed to think him retiring sucks. Dude could have kept playing as long as he wanted, as far as I care. Okay. I'm over it now. I suppose he will have to make due with his beautiful wife and mountains of money.
4) This fucking primary won't end. It's getting to the point where Hillary Clinton is becoming a cartoonish supervillain bent on destroying the Democratic party if she can't win the nomination... and, short of the ghost of Lee Harvey Oswald taking a keen interest in Barack Obama, she can't. I'm on too many drugs to deal with this. Go home, Hillary. Yes, you won a net 12 delegates yesterday. I'm very proud of you. Now cut it out. And take that nutjob Jack Nicholson with you. I don't want him to tell me that you'll give me a blowjob again. Christ.
If I hadn't run into an old friend from Ground Zero at The Seville yesterday, I'd be writing the whole week off already. Still waiting for redemption, people.
danielle:
God I am such aloser..I can't even write a stupid email...CAn I have bridjet's email again...Loser..loser,loser*smacking head against desk* Loser..