Up, caffeinated, and back to work.
McUNE, his iPod would be like this.
Off to work–ache all over. Did not sleep well. Had dream Obama was living with me (no sex–I kept saying I had to meet Michelle). It was snowing and #2 son was walking Obama’s dog. There was something about a small town, buses and long drives.
No wonder I’m tired. Obama changed my pillowcase in the dream, I remember that.
No wonder Freud had a field day with all this kind of stuff, too.
There are some things I don’t trust machines to do for me!
Yeah, so I’m a Luddite. Luddites have more fun 
Doggio… 
**Doggio ** that was hilarous!!!
Blurf. Caffeination underway, but I’m not hungry and therefore I won’t forage this morning.
I hate pharmacies in general; the pharmacy at Wally World in Suffolk is a pet hate of mine. Back story: VWife took a 75 lb boxer to the side of her knee a couple weeks ago, resulting in damage just short of a fracture, She may yet need surgery to reseat her kneecap if things don’t settle down. The inflammation in her knee has fired up her lupus big time, and she went to the doctor yesterday to get a prescription for a dosage pack of prednisone to settle everything down. This is something normal for both of us to deal with.
The following story is paraphrased, but not embellished in any way.
Character #1 is a slack-jawed yokel pharmacy tech. Imagine a lumpy, dumpy high school grad, with a camoflage ID card lanyard around his neck festooned with gold Jesus fish. I will refer to him as Dim Bulb Pharmacy Tech (DBPT).
Character #2 is the pharmacist. The guy dresses like Fred Rogers, but has a little more testosterone in his system.
I stopped on the way home from work to get her prescription. DBPT calls me up to the counter, and I give him VWife’s name. He looks and looks some more for her scrip. As long as he took, I would have been surprised if he could have found his ass with 2 hands and a GPS set.
Once he finds it, he starts to ring it up, and before I had a chance to say anything, he yells over his shoulder, “Need a consult!”
:mad: :mad: :mad: No I don’t. She’s been taking this shit as long as VunderKind has been alive, and I buy him his first legal drink next March. I looked DBPT straight in the eye, snarled “Jeezus H. Kee-Rist”, and threw the payment straight at him. The one thing I hate most in the world is being treated as though I’m stupid. Have I ever mentioned that before?
I stormed over to the dutch door marked “Consultation”, and stood there with lightning bolts radiating from every inch of my Greek Godlike body (that Greek God being Bacchus, the short, fat god of wine). Fred Rogers saunters up and asks, “How are you today?”
“Pissed.”
“Oh. Do you have any questions?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be mad. We’ve been married 20 years, and she’s taken this shit for 19 of them. I kinda know what’s going on.”
At this point, DBPT sticks his nose around the corner to hand me my change. I imagine one of my lightning bolts drilling him right between his eyes, and not exiting the back of his head because it is forever trapped in the empty cavern between his ears.
Macho Fred Rogers then says, “I guess you have it under control then. Here you go.”
All of this ill will could have been spared had DBPT not assumed I was as stupid as he was.
Found this hilarous news story…Guys if your missing your penis, it just may be witchcraft!
Morning! Just a drive-by - but I did get caught up!
Mwah!
**VBob ** - he may not so much have been dumber than dog-doo, but that he was taught how to do his job and told to stick to the rules no matter what. (did you see last night’s South Park by any chance?)
Mornin’ all.
Just a thought on the LL and her handwashing habits:
I know several people, myself included, who are allergic to the soap that the company keeps in the washroom. The stuff is truly foul. It turns my hands bright red and makes them feel like they’re burning. One department was nice enough to buy bottles of dial for us to use instead of the regular soap. But, otherwise, I have to carry a little bottle of soap with me to the restroom, use copious amounts of hand sanitizer or both. (I have a 20 oz. bottle of Purell on my desk as well as said travel size bottle of hand soap.) Is it possible that LL is in a similar predicament and can’t use the soap in the bathroom?
There is a Ben and Jerry’s right near my house, but I haven’t been in, because I’m fiercely loyal to Ed’s and La Paloma. And Greg’s. Although i doubt I’m getting to La Paloma again anytime soon. It’s across the city, in Little Italy.
Argh. Baby was extremely tired and grouchy most of yesterday. My hearing is still a little off. Today is dedicated to Making the Baby Sleep More, Because He Needs It, Whether or Not He Agrees.
Bob, this:
is hilarious.
Well, I think the least she could do is rinse her hands well in running water. She isn’t allergic to that, I would hope.
My job is done.
Hah! You’ve been scooped by **Cal **(and I expected Bosda to be on the case on such a story)
Fun story nonetheless.
I slept last night, and am actually feeling great. Didn’t get to bed until 5AM, but I’ll take five straight hours any day of the week.
I may go out for a walk.
Good morning!
When you teach someone to do a job by rules so strict that you have no reason to deviate whatsoever, the only thing that keeps employers from using monkeys instead of humans is the monkey’s tendency to fling poo.
Oh, wait. Isn’t there a discussion of a lawyer who doesn’t wash her hands after going to the powder room?
Never mind.
Filth, foul, filth, filth, foul, filth!
:mad:
Somedays…
I’m so jealous! Things are starting to bud, but there’s nothing out here yet. 
I’m sorry for those of you with no Ben & Jerry’s around. For those of you who have better local ice cream, maybe B&J’s don’t have the BEST ice cream in the world, but it’s pretty darned good, and I don’t know of anything better around here. Plus, I’m not going to complain about someone giving away Pretty Darned Good Ice Cream 
(That’s me licking my ice cream cone.)
I missed haze’s hat picture. Could someone point me to it or tell me what post # it was in?
Yeah, that would at least help. Show a little effort. Or at least some remorse for not washing your hands. More than anything it’s the blatant disregard for hand-washing. Most people will at least run their hands under some water if there’s someone else in the bathroom. But LL doesn’t even do that, and she doesn’t look ashamed for not.
She doesn’t have any hand sanitizer or anything on her desk either, mousie. I do like the idea of leaving a bottle on her desk with a note… just not sure if I have the cojones to do it! LL’s a big wig, which makes it a lot harder to say anything.
Smartie, the curry was really good for the amount of time it took. It’ll be interesting to see if the leftovers taste even better. One of the comments on the recipe’s website said they do. I will be making that again, probably with chicken breast though, just 'cause I’m super picky about meat and don’t like the texture of the thighs… too much fat so I end up spending forever while I’m eating pulling it apart and separating the good meat from the nasty fat.
Muppet, that marinade sounds delicious. I just emailed KeithT with the ingredients so maybe we’ll try it soon. He came up with a marinade for some salmon we grilled the other night that included lemon juice, olive oil, smoked paprika, thyme, ancho chile powder, and salt. It was really good!
Speaking of salmon, where’s kai?
bbbobbio, DBPT’s computer output probably didn’t have any indication of how long VWife had been taking the drug. So there was no way for him to know if this was the first time she’d had it or that she’d been using it for 20 years.
I’m having problems with the usernames that are missing their vowels: first I thought **pepper **was paper, and then I thought **jungle **was jingle.
Taxi do you have interoffice mail? You could ‘mail’ her some. Wrap it up like a present…
Movie Night was an adventure. I got there late (Complicated Roommate informed me that Mexican food took precedence over bratwurst at Movie House and you don’t argue with a hungry Mexican who knows kung-fu) and parked at the end of the line of cars in front of the house. A little while later Hostess is outside feeding the Siamese kitty that visits their house when their asshole neighbor pulls up and calls her a “stupid bitch” for letting someone park too close to his driveway. Host charges out the door and starts shooting Glares of Death in Asshole’s direction. (No fighting because the kids were still up and watching Daddy go to jail does not ensure a good night’s sleep). I apologized to Hosts for parking there, but they said no worries, that guy’s an asshole anyway. I moved my car to the driveway and we all stood on the front porch waiting for Asshole to return, plotting revenge the whole time. Six grumpy grad students versus one Asshole. Yeah, let’s put the kids to bed before the fisticuffs begin. Asshole came back and glared at us out his living room window. I made little kissy faces at him.
Oh yes, there will be revenge. This guy’s been a dick to the Hosts ever since they moved in. They’re moving to the coast at the end of May so there will be time to give him a little farewell gift. 
The movie for the night was put up to a vote. Host had just gotten the Dolemite Collection (and let me keep his original copy of Dolemite–I am so going to help them move their furniture for that) so that was one option. Complicated Roommate let me bring his copy of Hell Comes to Frogtown. Red-Haired Guy read the case description out loud and declared He Must See This. So we put it up to a vote. Rowdy Roddy Piper beat Rudy Ray Moore.
If you have not seen Hell Comes to Frogtown and you like cheesy bad movies, you must see it immediately. There are some painful “seduction” scenes, though, and the “love interest” wears horrible huge glasses for half the movie before Roddy says “Honey, no” and tosses them off a cliff. Three people asked me to…procure a copy for them.
I came home and told Complicated Roommate that his taste in bad movies was loudly lauded throughout the land. He was pleased. He’s lost a lot of friends over the last year due to stupid choices, so hearing that a group of near-strangers thought he was good for something made his night.
Then I had a weird dream where I was reading a Wizard of Id comic book that was 800 times better than the actual Wizard of Id and Movie Night Host gave me a hug and I woke up.
The annual festival in the center of campus is today. I’m going to see if the radio station is giving away free cds before I go take pictures of the burned out tobacco warehouse this afternoon. Update on the burned-out tobacco warehouse: it was arson . Big surprise.
“Hell Comes to Frogtown”? :eek: What a great title.
My problem with letters is getting worse… but it’s leading to some amusing results. I was just sending an email to someone named Bharat, but instead I typed it as Barhat. And that just completely cracked me up. Bar hat. Bwahahahaha.
OK, I think I’m too easily amused today.