I discovered that the video card in my g/f’s computer doesn’t have an updated driver for Win7. I ended up digging around in my box of old stuff and came up with an old card of mine that should work. Eager to do this because we (meaning I) want to be able to run a dual display and Netflix on to her big TV.
Huummmm, the problem? Wanted to install it yesterday, so I grabbed a screwdriver and prepared to take the cover off the case. No screws? That’s odd, guess I’ll just open it! It’s stuck. look more closely wtf…a lock? The fucking side cover is LOCKED?
Seriously…it has a latch, and one of those round-keyed locks. Who locks a computer? Particularly, one made out of Frankensteined 10 year-old parts?
I supposed the answer is my g/f’s dad. I’ve never seen such a thing. The least he could have done is SENT her the KEY when he shipped it? Guess he never expected it to be messed with
When it’s above that in my apartment, I’m sleeping with no sheets and a fan blowing on me.
My favorite sleeping weather is in the spring and fall when the nightly lows are in the 55-60 range and I can sleep with the windows open. Even then I’m at least partially uncovered.
I’m a human furnace, I produce a lot of heat on my own.
When an American sees the phrase “Chili Dog” on a menu, underneath a picture of an American flag, he has certain expectations as to what he’s going to get.
You know what he’s not going to expect? A hot dog with mustard and ketchup (Ketchup!), some dry crumbly stuff that was probably nut pieces (I don’t know; I scraped it off) and some jalapeños that felt like they were right out of the fridge. (A hot dog is not a salad. All the toppings should be at least warm.)
If you know nothing about a proper American chili dog or can’t be arsed to get real chili, then just change the bloody name on the menu, will you??
When an American sees the phrase “Chili Dog” on a menu, underneath a picture of an American flag, he has certain expectations as to what he’s going to get.QUOTE]
Jalapenos are chilis. Hence, Chili Dog, as in hot dog with chilis on it.
I am probably going to drop dead of heatstroke. That be-damned minature donkey has found a way out of his pasture and decided to go walkabout. Fortunately a kind passer-by came to the door asking if I was missing a “foal”. Grey and white? Oh, crap, that’s no foal it’s Captain Morgan.
Managed to get him back in his pasture; he left again and this time put himself in the pasture with Springer. Springer hasn’t kicked his head off yet, so it’s all good. I hope he’ll keep his silly self in there until R gets home to fix the fence.
It is too fucking hot to be chasing a fucking donkey.
He did that without putting a tarp or something under the chairs that he was spray-painting? :eek:
And here I thought it was bad that Mr. Neville was dumb enough to start the washer while I was in the shower yesterday. I was ready to kill him at the time, and I’m not sure any jury would have convicted me if I had. For God’s sake, he’s got a PhD in astrophysics, he should know better than that! He claimed he’s used to apartments and dorms where this kind of thing is not an issue, but we’ve lived here, in this house with its old plumbing, for five years now! Things like that can usually get through even my thick skull in that amount of time.
Nor did he kick a cage containing a feral cat that does not want to come out of said cage. :eek: There’s hope.
They aren’t. Well, relatively I suppose ours were because we were on the far end of the grandstand and we had to watch the large screen put in front of our section to see things at times, but the musical ride is better seen from further back because you can actually see the patterns they make whereas up close it’s a bunch of horses and people in red serge trotting around not crashing into each other.
Some days it’s just not worth it to chew through the straps. Yesterday was one of those days.
I thought both female dogs were spayed. Scared me to death to find drops of fresh blood on the floor. Turns out the German Shepard has not been spayed.
I rescued about a dozen frogs from the pool over the weekend; then a huge wolf spider decides to go swimming with me.
The Ragdoll cat manages to catch a lizard in the house, and got miffed when I took it away from him. No kitty kisses for me!
Then the minature donkey escapes and I spend all afternoon trying to keep him contained. He has never been taught to lead - that is going to be remedied very soon.
On the bright side, the horse we rescued from Florida a few months ago is absolutely beautiful - having enough food has worked wonders for him. He just came home from the trainer and leads beautifully. I could probably ride him now, but they only have English saddles and I’m not about to try to ride a half-broken horse on an English saddle.
Oh, god. I’ve taken to getting up around 7 am and trucking off to the Y to swim. Swimming in the morning is great. It wakes me up and is good exercise and I enjoy it greatly. However, he gets up at 6:30, and at 7, wants to come out and see me off. No problem, I appreciate it. But I just want:
“Love you!” kiss “See you later!”
He insists, however on,
“We’re having X for dinner! Be good! Drive safe! Did you pack your flip-flops? Don’t walk in the shower without them! Be careful! I’ll see you tonight! I’ll text you when I get to work!”
And he expects an answer to all of them. Very considerate and all, but I JUST WOKE UP, dude. I just want to grunt and drive away. I hadn’t thought of the gun option. Maybe I should threaten him with one, but they’re only .22s and besides that would require waking up a bit.
GAH! Morning people in general annoy me. “I know you’re cranky in the morning!” No, I am NOT cranky. I am, however, quiet and not inclined to be overly talkative. I do GET cranky when you CALL me cranky. Bitch.
My other major rant is people not using their turn signals. We’ll just drift out of this lane…into the other…then back again…oh, look, our exit…we’ll just drift into there, too. STOP IT.
ETA: Snakescatlady had a mini donkey named Captain Morgan??? Ooo, I want one!
He’s not mine, unfortunately, he belongs to the friend I housesit for. A shame, really, because he is a doll baby. Not much bigger than a German Shepard. I’m going to go out there next week sometime to start training him to lead by his halter; he’s had no training at all and there is nothing harder to move than a donkey who doesn’t want to be moved.
He’s got the softest big ol’ donkey ears and the softest widdle donkey nose…
I know, right! Any real Texan would protect the beer first. Bill told me that he was born in Tennesse, I’m starting to think that he’s lieing about that because he’s too embarrassed to confess that he was born in California or New York City!
That was just too funny! Thank your for sharing it. I sent the link to Bill and he hasn’t responded. I know he’s not offended, he’s probably just asleep. The 3 hour time difference is a pain.
I don’t know much about horses and saddles, but I’m happy that the rescue horse is doing well. I know that my rescues do much better with regular food. Go figure! Don’t you volunteer to housesit? Us bikers will share stories of riding in storms and snow…when non bikers look at us like we are nuts…the only thing we can say is that we do it because we love it. Masochists are us
<snipped> And this is why Bill still lives. First I’d have to find my glasses, then I’d need to pee and finally I’d have to remember the combination to the gunsafes. By that time, I have coffee in my hands and my poor starving cats need their breakfast so are trying to help me remember that they are starving by running under my feet and into the kitchen.
This isn’t a mini rant, its a major one. I really miss turning signals. I thought that maybe new cars didn’t come with them for a cost saving device because the auto manufactures knew that I was the only one who used them. I’ve learned to watch front tires because they turn before someone does a boneheaded move like try to crash into me.
No you did not. You’re still waking up. What he doesn’t understand is that for you, waking up isn’t an on-off switch…
HEY! Those of us who wake up when the bed kicks us out, before sunup, would appreciate it if you learned to differentiate: there is no more correlation between morning person and idiocy than between normal-work-hours person and imbecility (no, I can’t come have coffee at 5pm on a Saturday. Because I work weekends. Well, either I’m at work and have been since 6am or I’m preparing to be at work until 6am. Which part of “I work weekends” can’t you understand after two years of me working weekends?)
Look, if you’re gonna live in Texas, you have to learn to sleep with a gun under your pillow. A LOADED gun. It’s a state requirement. You can lock up most of your guns, but you must have at least one fully loaded gun ready to hand at all times.
I don’t know from most new cars but our 2005 Pontiac has them and my 1997. I also have a 96 Jeep with working signals. I can tell you that there are bunches of cars where I am that don’t seem to have signals and they might be short on headlights to boot.
I love my nephew but I really hate how he’s in the middle of his picky stage and won’t eat what i make for dinner.
I’m also not happy that my recycling bin is full and it’s still FIVE LONG fucking days before it’s picked up.
I don’t want to cut the grass today. I hate that my vaccuum bag is almost full and needs changing. I gotta change the lightbulb on my ceiling fan. I don’t know what I did to FIREFOX to turn off spellcheck.