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Asshat Neighbors, Kennel Crap and....the Motorola Razr!!!!
Now, I'm not saying that Tracey Crankwhore and I are BFF all of a sudden, so don't jump in my shit. After two nights of pre-dawn moving activities, I left a very polite note on her door requesting that she try to be quieter if there was really no other time of day she could do it. In a perfect world I shouldn't have to ask, but we thought maybe because she never hears any of us considerate neighbors that she assumed the doors were thick enough to cover her. Well, we haven't heard a peep since. Lovely, and completely unexpected. This doesn't mean that she's ponied up the money to test our attic, but that isn't keeping us awake nights. Baby steps.
By contrast, I decided I've had enough of the Alcoholic using her handicapped space or not based on the position of the planets and I bloody well left a somewhat less polite note on her door telling her what I thought about it (anonymously, not out of cowardice but out of unwillingness to start a pointless neighborhood flame war). The next day she went out and came back again, and again parked in a regular space. So YOU tell ME who the worse neighbor is. I'm getting very sick and tired of people being such selfish, thoughtless asshats, which I guess is bad news for me since it isn't likely to change soon.
Is it any wonder I dreamt about buying a house out in the middle of nowhere, with no neighbors for miles around?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I never finished talking about the kennels last weekend. One of the reasons I was soooo happy to have an excuse to leave was because I was rejoined by my arch-nemesis, Honus, the Asshole Beagle of Death. He was slightly better behaved, in that I didn't even notice him until I was filling out my rounds sheet and I came face to face with him in kennel #7 at the end. "Helloooooooooo,Newman Honus" I hissed in recognition. He looked up at me utterly guilelessly. It didn't take long, however, for him to remember the way of things and return to his annoying, whining, yelping, ceaseless barking.
This time he was prescribed a tranquilizer. It was scheduled for 2 a.m., but by 11 p.m. I had had all that I was going to take. I gave it to him and he still wouldn't shut up, so I called Tery. She suggested I take him upstairs with me, maybe he just wanted some company. Yeah, I'm sure the poor thing is just misunderstood. He seemed happier upstairs, probably because it gave him the opportunity to make twice as much work for me. He spent more than an hour after taking the tranq spilling every trash can in the place, and even climbing onto a few doctors' desks and knocking all their papers on the floor. Fucking ASSHOLE. He never stopped moving once, so I figured the little field trip wasn't doing any good and brought him back downstairs. Where he proceeded to bark the rest of the night. My hatred for this dog knows no bounds.
So I happily left him barking his fool head off to go to the Halloween party on Saturday night. The problem with this was when I returned and slid my key into the front door of the hospital, I felt like I was returning to a jail cell, with Honus as my jailer. I tiptoed through the dark as long as possible to delay the inevitable, but at the first creaking floorboard the basement erupted into a cacophony of barks and howls with Honus leading the pack (this is why I've taken to removing my shoes and going about in stocking feet all night). A comfortingly yelled "It's okay, babies, it's just me!" shut everyone up except for you-know-who. He KNEW it was me, that's why he was barking, the fucker.
The good of the weekend was probably these two dogs:
This is Nishika the malamute and Kava the Great Pyrenees. Sisters, and fortunately both very sweet and docile, because if one of them decided they didn't want to return to their kennel, I'm not sure what I could have done to make them. Still, I found it very hard to wrap my mind around the logistical nightmare that daily life with 200-odd pounds of dog would entail.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I'm getting a new phone. Our Lady of the Contemptuous Scorn of All Things Cellular is now on her first upgrade. It's Tery's fault, sort of. She asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and the first words out of my mouth before I'd given it any sort of thought were "Motorola Razr." Here I'd been so proud of myself for resisting its allure when it first came out, and unbeknownst to me deep in my heart of hearts I had continued to covet it all this time. Of course, now that the desire was out there, there was no question of waiting for Christmas (not to mention Tery knows nothing about the workings of cellphone plans/upgrades, etc., so I knew it was all up to me). The guilt of indulgence was softened considerably when I idly browsed T-Mobile's site and saw a deal on this one for only $30 after rebate. T-Mobile's very reasonable asking price was merely that I sign over my soul to them for the next 2 years. Well, they can have it -- it's black and brittle and used up anyway (oh, angst!) Sure, it's a V3 which is probably considered ghetto compared to the many new versions that have since been released, but my cellphone needs are still pretty basic and I'm sure that any shortcomings in features will be more than compensated for every time I fondle the Razr's sleek, streamlined body. Yep, this phone will be bringin' sexy back (into my life, at least).
It hasn't even arrived yet and I've started tricking it out (or "pimpin' my talk" as Tery puts it). I spent far more time than necessary last night on Tery's office computer looking at accessories on eBay. She's got dial-up, so you KNOW that's some shopping dedication when every web page change requires at least a 5-minute commitment. Ugh. Dial-up suuhuuhuuhuuhuhuuhcks, in case anyone didn't know that by now. Still, I managed to find a pretty sweet case that hopefully will arrive about the same time as the phone. I'm damn excited about it, for someone who still practically never talks on the phone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
And.....speaking of killer eBay finds, I don't think anyone in their right mind who knows anything about me could possibly expect me to resist this when I discovered it during a casual search for overpriced Frank the Bunny Halloween costumes (don't worry. I didn't pay anywhere close to the price in the link). Oh. My. God. The head interchanges with Frank's human head and it says 7 phrases from the movie. It's almost as if someone IS listening to my fantasies.....
By contrast, I decided I've had enough of the Alcoholic using her handicapped space or not based on the position of the planets and I bloody well left a somewhat less polite note on her door telling her what I thought about it (anonymously, not out of cowardice but out of unwillingness to start a pointless neighborhood flame war). The next day she went out and came back again, and again parked in a regular space. So YOU tell ME who the worse neighbor is. I'm getting very sick and tired of people being such selfish, thoughtless asshats, which I guess is bad news for me since it isn't likely to change soon.
Is it any wonder I dreamt about buying a house out in the middle of nowhere, with no neighbors for miles around?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I never finished talking about the kennels last weekend. One of the reasons I was soooo happy to have an excuse to leave was because I was rejoined by my arch-nemesis, Honus, the Asshole Beagle of Death. He was slightly better behaved, in that I didn't even notice him until I was filling out my rounds sheet and I came face to face with him in kennel #7 at the end. "Helloooooooooo,
This time he was prescribed a tranquilizer. It was scheduled for 2 a.m., but by 11 p.m. I had had all that I was going to take. I gave it to him and he still wouldn't shut up, so I called Tery. She suggested I take him upstairs with me, maybe he just wanted some company. Yeah, I'm sure the poor thing is just misunderstood. He seemed happier upstairs, probably because it gave him the opportunity to make twice as much work for me. He spent more than an hour after taking the tranq spilling every trash can in the place, and even climbing onto a few doctors' desks and knocking all their papers on the floor. Fucking ASSHOLE. He never stopped moving once, so I figured the little field trip wasn't doing any good and brought him back downstairs. Where he proceeded to bark the rest of the night. My hatred for this dog knows no bounds.
So I happily left him barking his fool head off to go to the Halloween party on Saturday night. The problem with this was when I returned and slid my key into the front door of the hospital, I felt like I was returning to a jail cell, with Honus as my jailer. I tiptoed through the dark as long as possible to delay the inevitable, but at the first creaking floorboard the basement erupted into a cacophony of barks and howls with Honus leading the pack (this is why I've taken to removing my shoes and going about in stocking feet all night). A comfortingly yelled "It's okay, babies, it's just me!" shut everyone up except for you-know-who. He KNEW it was me, that's why he was barking, the fucker.
The good of the weekend was probably these two dogs:
This is Nishika the malamute and Kava the Great Pyrenees. Sisters, and fortunately both very sweet and docile, because if one of them decided they didn't want to return to their kennel, I'm not sure what I could have done to make them. Still, I found it very hard to wrap my mind around the logistical nightmare that daily life with 200-odd pounds of dog would entail.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I'm getting a new phone. Our Lady of the Contemptuous Scorn of All Things Cellular is now on her first upgrade. It's Tery's fault, sort of. She asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and the first words out of my mouth before I'd given it any sort of thought were "Motorola Razr." Here I'd been so proud of myself for resisting its allure when it first came out, and unbeknownst to me deep in my heart of hearts I had continued to covet it all this time. Of course, now that the desire was out there, there was no question of waiting for Christmas (not to mention Tery knows nothing about the workings of cellphone plans/upgrades, etc., so I knew it was all up to me). The guilt of indulgence was softened considerably when I idly browsed T-Mobile's site and saw a deal on this one for only $30 after rebate. T-Mobile's very reasonable asking price was merely that I sign over my soul to them for the next 2 years. Well, they can have it -- it's black and brittle and used up anyway (oh, angst!) Sure, it's a V3 which is probably considered ghetto compared to the many new versions that have since been released, but my cellphone needs are still pretty basic and I'm sure that any shortcomings in features will be more than compensated for every time I fondle the Razr's sleek, streamlined body. Yep, this phone will be bringin' sexy back (into my life, at least).
It hasn't even arrived yet and I've started tricking it out (or "pimpin' my talk" as Tery puts it). I spent far more time than necessary last night on Tery's office computer looking at accessories on eBay. She's got dial-up, so you KNOW that's some shopping dedication when every web page change requires at least a 5-minute commitment. Ugh. Dial-up suuhuuhuuhuuhuhuuhcks, in case anyone didn't know that by now. Still, I managed to find a pretty sweet case that hopefully will arrive about the same time as the phone. I'm damn excited about it, for someone who still practically never talks on the phone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
And.....speaking of killer eBay finds, I don't think anyone in their right mind who knows anything about me could possibly expect me to resist this when I discovered it during a casual search for overpriced Frank the Bunny Halloween costumes (don't worry. I didn't pay anywhere close to the price in the link). Oh. My. God. The head interchanges with Frank's human head and it says 7 phrases from the movie. It's almost as if someone IS listening to my fantasies.....