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jheti
Okay, like, I seeeee you out there and I want to stop and say hi and leave nice comments, and I will! But I'm on a time limit here because I have about seventy pages of reading and three short critical analysis treatments to do (NOT HARD, I think in drabbles, which makes me one of those very slow taggers who always has a purple paragraph in response to ANYthing but ANYWAY) so I'm not going to leave comments yet, okay? Okay.
So. Yesterday, I was with the 'rents, chilling out at the Starbucks, because I love Starbucks, completely and unironically and with every fiber of my shriveled dark heart of capitalist pig, and it doesn't matter if they don't love me back; I 'ship Starbucks/ME ♥ ♥ ♥
Do you know why? Because I know, going there, that even if my coffee's kinda shit and the barista is kinda rude, it's still a pretty, clean, mostly quiet environment that's USUALLY playing music I like. About three times out of five it is clean, pretty, quietish, WITH NICE SERVICE.
Sometimes, my visit to Starbucks is the only part of my day where I feel like an actual human being these are beautiful things, they're from catalogues!
Yeah. So. I'm a slave to the green mermaid.
So it was a good visit, full of good if aimless discussion about the Internets and social engineering as a marketing avenue, and we're in the parking-lot, post-coffee-blissed. I'm so replete and happy that I'm half-asleep in the backseat.
(Yes, you're reading this correctly. I am so perpetually sleep-deprived that nice, warm coffee makes me sleepy.)
AND THEN THE PHONE RINGS.
And it is Stepdad's mom. Who, y'know, we get along with in general, but we maybe get together six times a year? And she's called her twice-monthly obligated amount already. She did that last week.
She's all like LOLHI omg it's been so long since we've seen each other, and right there, the warning bells went off for me. It's been about a MONTH. Barely. Well, I was just gonna stop by your house and see how you're doing! :D :D :D
Bullshit. Lady we have been moved into this house for allllmossst half a decade. I think maybe you have come to see US at OUR place ONCE. I have this vague idea that it might have been when I got my thirteenth grade degree, but maybe I'm making that up. My full-grown dog, who now has grey fur and arthritis? WAS A PUPPY.
Gurl, omg gurl, you know I love you gurl, but don't act like you ever come to my house. 'Cause y'all don't.
MY SPIDER SENSE, IT IS TINGLING.
Yeah. Long one short, she wanted Stepdad to SPEND HIS SUNDAY repairing my step-uncle's computer.
And he sort of can't say no, because the alternative is them coming out here, and our house is full of DOG and not in any shape to ~receive visitors.~
So. That's where he is and what he's doing with his DAY OFF, right now.
Dick move, step-grandma. DICK MOVE.
I'm seriously hoping this error is what I think it is, which would be a graphics-card short that toasted the motherboard, which is something that lolsorry you might actually have to SEND TO THE STORE.
Or, like, that shit is six years old? You may actually have to do the mysterious ritual called BUY YOUR ASS A NEW ONE.
Did I mention? DICK MOVE.
Fuck friendslock, you got an lj-cut. I'm out of bed and dressed, what more do you want.
So. Yesterday, I was with the 'rents, chilling out at the Starbucks, because I love Starbucks, completely and unironically and with every fiber of my shriveled dark heart of capitalist pig, and it doesn't matter if they don't love me back; I 'ship Starbucks/ME ♥ ♥ ♥
Do you know why? Because I know, going there, that even if my coffee's kinda shit and the barista is kinda rude, it's still a pretty, clean, mostly quiet environment that's USUALLY playing music I like. About three times out of five it is clean, pretty, quietish, WITH NICE SERVICE.
Sometimes, my visit to Starbucks is the only part of my day where I feel like an actual human being these are beautiful things, they're from catalogues!
Yeah. So. I'm a slave to the green mermaid.
So it was a good visit, full of good if aimless discussion about the Internets and social engineering as a marketing avenue, and we're in the parking-lot, post-coffee-blissed. I'm so replete and happy that I'm half-asleep in the backseat.
(Yes, you're reading this correctly. I am so perpetually sleep-deprived that nice, warm coffee makes me sleepy.)
AND THEN THE PHONE RINGS.
And it is Stepdad's mom. Who, y'know, we get along with in general, but we maybe get together six times a year? And she's called her twice-monthly obligated amount already. She did that last week.
She's all like LOLHI omg it's been so long since we've seen each other, and right there, the warning bells went off for me. It's been about a MONTH. Barely. Well, I was just gonna stop by your house and see how you're doing! :D :D :D
Bullshit. Lady we have been moved into this house for allllmossst half a decade. I think maybe you have come to see US at OUR place ONCE. I have this vague idea that it might have been when I got my thirteenth grade degree, but maybe I'm making that up. My full-grown dog, who now has grey fur and arthritis? WAS A PUPPY.
Gurl, omg gurl, you know I love you gurl, but don't act like you ever come to my house. 'Cause y'all don't.
MY SPIDER SENSE, IT IS TINGLING.
Yeah. Long one short, she wanted Stepdad to SPEND HIS SUNDAY repairing my step-uncle's computer.
And he sort of can't say no, because the alternative is them coming out here, and our house is full of DOG and not in any shape to ~receive visitors.~
So. That's where he is and what he's doing with his DAY OFF, right now.
Dick move, step-grandma. DICK MOVE.
I'm seriously hoping this error is what I think it is, which would be a graphics-card short that toasted the motherboard, which is something that lolsorry you might actually have to SEND TO THE STORE.
Or, like, that shit is six years old? You may actually have to do the mysterious ritual called BUY YOUR ASS A NEW ONE.
Did I mention? DICK MOVE.
Fuck friendslock, you got an lj-cut. I'm out of bed and dressed, what more do you want.
