I'm not wearing underwear today
No I'm not wearing underwear today
Not that you probably care
Much about my underwear
Still, none the less, I've gotta say
That I'm not wearing underwear tooooodaaaaaayyyy.
You get +5 if you know where I got this from.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
A story for you to enjoy
(Note: this is a product of my imagination. It did not really happen to me)
It was a dark and lonely bathroom stall which my laden bladder forced me to use that night. The light within had burned out weeks previously, and, knowing the custodian of my building as I do, it would not be fixed within the weeks to come.
Late the hour was, I having had to stay long after the majority of my compatriots had been released, in order to update the W.E.N.I.S (Weekly Estimated Net Income Statistics.) In order to accomplish this daunting task, I imbibed several large cups of the dishwater coloured beverage management called "coffee". It was in hopes of staying conscious long enough to earn the freedom from my cubicle.
As the need to urinate came strongly upon me, I crept down the empty row of cubicles to the dual stalled lavatory which we were afforded by our generous managers.
The illuminated stall on the right was unoccupied, as I was the soul occupant of the floor at this late hour. However, the previous user of the illuminated stall had neglected to adhere to the "personal hygiene items go in the trash, not the toilet" notice posted in the the stall.
I peered into the foreboding dark stall on the left and began to consider the possibility of waiting until I had the comfort of my softly lit lavatory at my place of residence.
Unfortunately, the need to urinate was too great, and I was forced into the foreboding stall. When the door closed behind me with a "thud", it became even darker and more foreboding than when I first assessed it. The smells from the illuminated stall on the right was overpowering, and I held my breath. The lack of oxygen present in my blood going to my brain eventually forced me to exhale the precious air I had saved for this occasion. I made my deposit and inserted the deposit slip before completing my transaction.
I washed my hands in the lurid sink and crept back down the row of deserted cubicles to where, upon my own, sat another cup of the "coffee" sat, waiting to make me go again.
It was a dark and lonely bathroom stall which my laden bladder forced me to use that night. The light within had burned out weeks previously, and, knowing the custodian of my building as I do, it would not be fixed within the weeks to come.
Late the hour was, I having had to stay long after the majority of my compatriots had been released, in order to update the W.E.N.I.S (Weekly Estimated Net Income Statistics.) In order to accomplish this daunting task, I imbibed several large cups of the dishwater coloured beverage management called "coffee". It was in hopes of staying conscious long enough to earn the freedom from my cubicle.
As the need to urinate came strongly upon me, I crept down the empty row of cubicles to the dual stalled lavatory which we were afforded by our generous managers.
The illuminated stall on the right was unoccupied, as I was the soul occupant of the floor at this late hour. However, the previous user of the illuminated stall had neglected to adhere to the "personal hygiene items go in the trash, not the toilet" notice posted in the the stall.
I peered into the foreboding dark stall on the left and began to consider the possibility of waiting until I had the comfort of my softly lit lavatory at my place of residence.
Unfortunately, the need to urinate was too great, and I was forced into the foreboding stall. When the door closed behind me with a "thud", it became even darker and more foreboding than when I first assessed it. The smells from the illuminated stall on the right was overpowering, and I held my breath. The lack of oxygen present in my blood going to my brain eventually forced me to exhale the precious air I had saved for this occasion. I made my deposit and inserted the deposit slip before completing my transaction.
I washed my hands in the lurid sink and crept back down the row of deserted cubicles to where, upon my own, sat another cup of the "coffee" sat, waiting to make me go again.
Friday, October 16, 2009
and Something New (sort of)
I was advised not to make my blogs as long as my "Eye of the Tiger" post, so that's why there are two today. Read one now, read the other whenever.... Whatever, moving on.
It actually isn't new, but it is something that never ceases to amuse me.
Welcome to Hell.
It actually isn't new, but it is something that never ceases to amuse me.
Welcome to Hell.
Something Old...
Gomen! I have failed to blog anything in two weeks! Yikes! So much for that goal :)
So, to make up for it, I will give you something old, and something new.
From the "archive":
Original Post: Content Advisory
Original Posting: Sunday, August 19, 2007
So...for this year I decided I should get my own printer for Kristy (me laptop). That way, if my mom is doing someting on her computer (or there is a good show on tv) I won't have to bug her everytime I need to print something (or miss half the show b/c I am babysitting her cantancerous printer [it loves to spit paper everywhere when it is not getting jammed]). I told mom my idea and she thought it was good too, so we went printer shopping today (or, rather, yesterday by the time this is posted.)
We found a good looking printer at office max for $74.99. Ink Jet, 4800x1200 resolution, 30 pages per minute, ect. We asked a salesperson if it could be hooked up to my laptop and he said "sure, if your laptop has USB ports." Yup. Kristy has 4. He went on to explain briefly how the serial plugs are being phased out and USB is talking over. I was just thinking "Yay, one last port for me to figure out."
So we ask for the printer, buy it and take it home, making sure to ask if it already had ink (it appearantly did). I eventually got around to opening the box to put it together around 11:30pm, due to the fact I was cleaning off my new "work space" for the printer and Kristy all day. (Short explanation: My "work space" used to be my sewing table/craft storage area, so all the sewing/craft stuff had to be boxed up and put away to make it into my "work space".) I pull the printer out and put it on the "space" take the power source and the plug out and give the printer its juice. Now to hook it up to the computer Kristy. THERE IS NO USB CABLE ANYWERE IN THE BOX. I figured maybe the sales guy was mistaken and it was a wireless model. I could live with that explanation. I open the "User Guide" and look for the setup chapter. The first chapter is for "printing without a computer". Well, why the fuck would anyone buy a printer, then? Sure, it has slots for memory cards for printing pictures, but, where I come from, printers primary readon for being is for printing DOCUMENTS. Printing good pictures is a added bonus. I finally found the chapter (4) for printing with a computer, but it yeilds no info about how to hook the damn thing up to a computer.
I'm not dumb enough to believe that a printer under $80 magically "knows" what to print without some kind of input source from a computer, so I tear through the rest of the booklets and find the one called Quick Start Giude. Apperantly it's the one you are really supposed to look at, the other one is just incase this one does not make things clear enough.
Step 1: Unpack the printer
Step 2: Connect power
Step 3: Add paper
Step 4: Install Ink
Step 5: Install Software
The pictures that accompany these steps do not show a USB cable until Step 5, when one magically appears with no explanation. So, I go back and read the smallish print that has 3 languages.
Step 1 of Step 1: Purchase a USB cable seperately.
What. The. Fuck?
Soooo....yeah....
I don't feel dumb though, because two salesmen appearantly missed this step too, since neither the one who was telling us about it, nor the one who rang us up mentioned anything about purchasing the cable separately. I checked the box and it makes no mention of either needing or having a USB cable. So, for now I am left with a printer that can't print, and no time to get the said cable.
But I'm not worried, beacuse I have the urinary system under by belt.
So, to make up for it, I will give you something old, and something new.
From the "archive":
Original Post: Content Advisory
Original Posting: Sunday, August 19, 2007
So...for this year I decided I should get my own printer for Kristy (me laptop). That way, if my mom is doing someting on her computer (or there is a good show on tv) I won't have to bug her everytime I need to print something (or miss half the show b/c I am babysitting her cantancerous printer [it loves to spit paper everywhere when it is not getting jammed]). I told mom my idea and she thought it was good too, so we went printer shopping today (or, rather, yesterday by the time this is posted.)
We found a good looking printer at office max for $74.99. Ink Jet, 4800x1200 resolution, 30 pages per minute, ect. We asked a salesperson if it could be hooked up to my laptop and he said "sure, if your laptop has USB ports." Yup. Kristy has 4. He went on to explain briefly how the serial plugs are being phased out and USB is talking over. I was just thinking "Yay, one last port for me to figure out."
So we ask for the printer, buy it and take it home, making sure to ask if it already had ink (it appearantly did). I eventually got around to opening the box to put it together around 11:30pm, due to the fact I was cleaning off my new "work space" for the printer and Kristy all day. (Short explanation: My "work space" used to be my sewing table/craft storage area, so all the sewing/craft stuff had to be boxed up and put away to make it into my "work space".) I pull the printer out and put it on the "space" take the power source and the plug out and give the printer its juice. Now to hook it up to the computer Kristy. THERE IS NO USB CABLE ANYWERE IN THE BOX. I figured maybe the sales guy was mistaken and it was a wireless model. I could live with that explanation. I open the "User Guide" and look for the setup chapter. The first chapter is for "printing without a computer". Well, why the fuck would anyone buy a printer, then? Sure, it has slots for memory cards for printing pictures, but, where I come from, printers primary readon for being is for printing DOCUMENTS. Printing good pictures is a added bonus. I finally found the chapter (4) for printing with a computer, but it yeilds no info about how to hook the damn thing up to a computer.
I'm not dumb enough to believe that a printer under $80 magically "knows" what to print without some kind of input source from a computer, so I tear through the rest of the booklets and find the one called Quick Start Giude. Apperantly it's the one you are really supposed to look at, the other one is just incase this one does not make things clear enough.
Step 1: Unpack the printer
Step 2: Connect power
Step 3: Add paper
Step 4: Install Ink
Step 5: Install Software
The pictures that accompany these steps do not show a USB cable until Step 5, when one magically appears with no explanation. So, I go back and read the smallish print that has 3 languages.
Step 1 of Step 1: Purchase a USB cable seperately.
What. The. Fuck?
Soooo....yeah....
I don't feel dumb though, because two salesmen appearantly missed this step too, since neither the one who was telling us about it, nor the one who rang us up mentioned anything about purchasing the cable separately. I checked the box and it makes no mention of either needing or having a USB cable. So, for now I am left with a printer that can't print, and no time to get the said cable.
But I'm not worried, beacuse I have the urinary system under by belt.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Revisiting Old Blogs pt 1
I want to post something at least every week to keep you entertained. Or to look like I have a life. Whatever fits better. Unfortunately, I may not always have time to tell you what's on my mind just yet, so I plan to post blogs from the past which may be relevant, or just amusing enough to share.
Original Post: My Walmart.
Original Posting: April 4, 2008, Myspace/Facebook
"I have a word that I only use in the most special of moments. I can use that word now to describe my Walmart. GHETTO. I have the most ghetto Walmart in Silicon Valley (somewhat) down the street from my house. San Jose people reading this probably know which one I am talking about.
I used to shop at Walmart a lot before the gods smiled upon me and blessed me with a new store. Target. But that discovery on that blessed day will be recounted on a different entry. Back to Walmart. It was the only one that was not over 30 min from my house, so I had no choice but to go to the one on Monterey. I never noticed its ghettoness then, however it is possible that I was so sweet and innocent that I was immune to its ghetto powers. I was young and foolish once upon a time, I know this now.
It was always full of hurried people who cared not for the happiness/courtesy/safety of others, and those who thought they were too good to pick up any messes their kids made (honestly, no one shopping at Walmart is "too good" for anything.) I suppose that, after a long time shopping there at Christmas time, I learned how to fight my way to come out on top.
Then there was a period called "And Thus I Did Not Shop At Walmart For A Really Long Time." It was a happy time filled with trips to Rasputin for my music and movies, best buy for my electronics, and borders/Barnes and noble for my books. I even began to buy clothing else where that fit me better and made me feel less like white trash. (I do not fully understand the term "white trash" and only used it here because it seemed to fit. I apologise if it offended anyone.) Alas, though these other stores provided bountiful items of happiness and joy, they did not have the prices Walmart had. And thus came the "Time When Jenn and Zac Began To Run Low On Funds."
Symptoms suffered during this time include bank machines laughing, mooching off of parents, eating parents’ food, and eating cheap food. The last two items caused Zac and I to have some serious stomach issues that do not need to be shared at this venue. So, to get a much needed Iron and material for a Cosplay that we are working on, Zac and I got my parents to take us to Walmart after dinner one dark and stormy night. (Okay, it was not really dark and stormy, but it sure does make the story better!)
The first thing I noticed was that the garden center was no longer open. Strange, because it was only around 8 pm on a Friday. Then, when we walked in (Welcome to *ghetto* Walmart) I noticed something weird. Zac pointed it out immediately. "There is no ceiling." Odd... Roof, yes, Ceiling, no... The same disorganization and lack of underpants in the size/style I needed were there, and there were no other real surprises until, whilst looking at irons, I realised I needed to investigate the facilities. I fought my way through two large, unyielding crowds and barely made it into a stall when I noticed the next ghetto thing. There were toilet covers strewn about the floor, probably (I hope) unused, and there were ZERO in the holder. Then the toilet flushed (it was an auto flusher) whilst I was depositing, and refused to flush again after I had completed my transaction. So I gave up on the auto flush and left my remaining balance in the pot. I can now say that I made a contribution to the ghettoness of my Walmart.
Zac, later in the trip, also had to make use of the bathroom. I waited a ways away, so as not to be confused with the stalking type who lingers outside of the john. When Zac came out, he had a n odd, almost violated look on his face. My first thought was that some punk kid had peeked on him whilst he was completing his transaction. I asked him what was wrong and he told me. Someone had carved a gang symbol into his toilet seat.
You really don’t get much more ghetto than that.
And for those of you who are wondering why this amuses me so, think about how Walmart was originally in the South. As in Shopping Destination for Hicks. Hicks and Ghetto don’t usually mix. Only in San Jose.
Walmart Woman
Original Post: My Walmart.
Original Posting: April 4, 2008, Myspace/Facebook
"I have a word that I only use in the most special of moments. I can use that word now to describe my Walmart. GHETTO. I have the most ghetto Walmart in Silicon Valley (somewhat) down the street from my house. San Jose people reading this probably know which one I am talking about.
I used to shop at Walmart a lot before the gods smiled upon me and blessed me with a new store. Target. But that discovery on that blessed day will be recounted on a different entry. Back to Walmart. It was the only one that was not over 30 min from my house, so I had no choice but to go to the one on Monterey. I never noticed its ghettoness then, however it is possible that I was so sweet and innocent that I was immune to its ghetto powers. I was young and foolish once upon a time, I know this now.
It was always full of hurried people who cared not for the happiness/courtesy/safety of others, and those who thought they were too good to pick up any messes their kids made (honestly, no one shopping at Walmart is "too good" for anything.) I suppose that, after a long time shopping there at Christmas time, I learned how to fight my way to come out on top.
Then there was a period called "And Thus I Did Not Shop At Walmart For A Really Long Time." It was a happy time filled with trips to Rasputin for my music and movies, best buy for my electronics, and borders/Barnes and noble for my books. I even began to buy clothing else where that fit me better and made me feel less like white trash. (I do not fully understand the term "white trash" and only used it here because it seemed to fit. I apologise if it offended anyone.) Alas, though these other stores provided bountiful items of happiness and joy, they did not have the prices Walmart had. And thus came the "Time When Jenn and Zac Began To Run Low On Funds."
Symptoms suffered during this time include bank machines laughing, mooching off of parents, eating parents’ food, and eating cheap food. The last two items caused Zac and I to have some serious stomach issues that do not need to be shared at this venue. So, to get a much needed Iron and material for a Cosplay that we are working on, Zac and I got my parents to take us to Walmart after dinner one dark and stormy night. (Okay, it was not really dark and stormy, but it sure does make the story better!)
The first thing I noticed was that the garden center was no longer open. Strange, because it was only around 8 pm on a Friday. Then, when we walked in (Welcome to *ghetto* Walmart) I noticed something weird. Zac pointed it out immediately. "There is no ceiling." Odd... Roof, yes, Ceiling, no... The same disorganization and lack of underpants in the size/style I needed were there, and there were no other real surprises until, whilst looking at irons, I realised I needed to investigate the facilities. I fought my way through two large, unyielding crowds and barely made it into a stall when I noticed the next ghetto thing. There were toilet covers strewn about the floor, probably (I hope) unused, and there were ZERO in the holder. Then the toilet flushed (it was an auto flusher) whilst I was depositing, and refused to flush again after I had completed my transaction. So I gave up on the auto flush and left my remaining balance in the pot. I can now say that I made a contribution to the ghettoness of my Walmart.
Zac, later in the trip, also had to make use of the bathroom. I waited a ways away, so as not to be confused with the stalking type who lingers outside of the john. When Zac came out, he had a n odd, almost violated look on his face. My first thought was that some punk kid had peeked on him whilst he was completing his transaction. I asked him what was wrong and he told me. Someone had carved a gang symbol into his toilet seat.
You really don’t get much more ghetto than that.
And for those of you who are wondering why this amuses me so, think about how Walmart was originally in the South. As in Shopping Destination for Hicks. Hicks and Ghetto don’t usually mix. Only in San Jose.
Walmart Woman
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
My First Post (for this site...)
Since this is my first blog you will read on this site, I figured I should make it a funny blog. Earlier today, my mind had a blonde moment:
Where: Walking past the ampitheatre by the Student Union
What: I began thinking about nothing inparticular. This always leads to interesting results.
I was walking past the ampitheatre, listening to the Chinese Day music playing in the ampitheatre, I began thinking "I don't believe in the Chinese." It sounds bad, I know, but that was the blonde thought I had. Not that I don't believe in their government's stance, or that I don't believe in their folktales. Apperantly, I don't believe in them as a group. So, as I pondered this odd thought, another thought, a continuation from the first came to mind:
"I don't believe in the Chinese. They are a story parents tell their children to make them go to school."
Yup. It was funnier with Katie, tho.
Where: Walking past the ampitheatre by the Student Union
What: I began thinking about nothing inparticular. This always leads to interesting results.
I was walking past the ampitheatre, listening to the Chinese Day music playing in the ampitheatre, I began thinking "I don't believe in the Chinese." It sounds bad, I know, but that was the blonde thought I had. Not that I don't believe in their government's stance, or that I don't believe in their folktales. Apperantly, I don't believe in them as a group. So, as I pondered this odd thought, another thought, a continuation from the first came to mind:
"I don't believe in the Chinese. They are a story parents tell their children to make them go to school."
Yup. It was funnier with Katie, tho.
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