Day 6 in a Post Apocolyptic World

Well, perhaps I am being a bit hyperbolic. Today is the sixth day without internet at home so it isn't exactly neighbor against neighbor, battling in the street for road kill carrion or anything. My internet went out on Saturday. I was told it was an external broad band problem and a guy would be out Thursday. On Tuesday I got a call from a technician saying he was at my place, the problem was actually internal and, since I wasn't home, he'd have a tech call me. I got a message from my carrier saying my problem was resolved (which it wasn't, of course). So I called that night and a guy tried this and that and the other and then said he'd send a new modem. New modem received yesterday and it doesn't work. Technician scheduled to come out between four and eight Friday.

It hasn't been terrible. I don't miss Facebook or anything and no one really emails me. But I miss Netflix. I recently dropped my cable so I've been streaming online content. Lately it's been Midsomer Murders because I've exhausted Inspector Lewis, Under the Lake (On the Lake?), The Killing, and that show with Gillian Anderson in it. And I do miss reading the news obsessively. Though I'll admit, I'm done with Syria. I don't think we should be involved. I don't think chemical weapons is a "red line" and all the other stuff (bombs, torture, mines, etc.) are "OK" and in accordance with "rules of war". I find the concept of "rules of war" laughable (rule number one: no war allowed). Britain wants nothing to do with it, Iraq fresh in their minds. France wants in. The American people do not want to go but France and the US are basically begging for international support for a limited strike.

Until Russia was all "Hey buddy, how about you just turn over your weapons? I know Kerry suggested that but you know those Americans." So now we are going back to the table to talk more but America is still swinging its dick around to remind Syria that we ain't playin' no shit, that we ain't never, we ain't never been about playin' no shit.

And so, yes, Simply is still a girl disconnected. Fortunately (or unfortunately) for you, I have yet another awesome texted conversation to share, once again between Austin and yours truly. Enjoy!

**********************************************************

ME: "The awesome Guitar Hero texts just keep on coming. This morning he sent me a picture of his penis."

AUSTIN: "Lol, as what, a reminder?"

ME: "Who knows. Some guys love showing that shit."

AUSTIN: "Amazing. Oh GH, what will you do next?"

ME: "I think it is a 'see what you do to me' thing".

AUSTIN: "Was there any caption to the sext or was it just as is?"

ME: "This is how I woke up."

AUSTIN: "Hahahahahahhaah he sent you morning wood."

ME: "Yeah, he tells me sometimes that he woke up hard and though of me."

AUSTIN: "9/12/2013, self portrait with dong. Photograph. Now part of the permanent collection."

ME: "Limited edition featuring red underpants. Number 1 of 3."

AUSTIN: "If verified as an authentic GH from his rose period, it could fetch five figures in auction. Notice the tasteful soft focus on the thighs and covers. The insistence of the head in the foreground, commanding the viewer's attention. It's a powerful piece. Reminds me of 'self portrait with dong, living room, no. 8'. I have a print of it in my study."

ME: "This piece will be shipped in a protective latex coating to preserve the freshness and smoothness of the piece. Some deflation can be expected in the latex preservation pouch."

AUSTIN: "Hehe. Congrats on the acquisition. I'm sure you'll enjoy it for quite some time."

ME: "The portrait is the artist's tribute to 9/11. The erect shaft seen rising from the waste band is a powerful reminder of the American people and their spirit."

AUSTIN: "Actual lol. What I love is that not every tribute needs the two towers motif. One look at the work and you know what it's about, but it still functions as a proper dong shot. GH is as playful as he is masterful. He's just toying with genres now."

UPDATE: I dug out Murdoch's number just so I could put him back in my phone as "The Penis" and I set the penis pic as his contact picture. Just on the off chance that he ever calls me again. I don't hate the guy or anything, but he treated me like a dick so why not? It's funny. Plus, the chances of him ever calling me are slim to none so it will just be our little secret, k? Shhhh.

**********************************************************

 

And just for the hell of it:



Monday

Wicked Weekend

Poor Monday, always so timid after years of being abused by the work weary masses. I overslept yet again. I actually took a nighttime cold pill last night in order to get to sleep since that is where I seem to run into trouble. Once asleep I’m good, but getting there is a challenge. So whilst I am well rested, I am also annoyed at being 20 minutes late because I’m not a big fan of my ability to turn off all four alarms I have set on my cell phone when dead asleep. But, c’est la vie. I’ll get adjusted, I’m sure.

The weekend!Well, I never did sit down with my finances but, instead, avoided the issue. But I have it written down on three separate to-do lists for today so it should get done. I have $88 in the bank until Friday and am going to stretch that shit out. Well, I have to, don’t I?

So what did I do? Well, I did a whole bunch of chores like dishes, laundry, picking up the living room, etc. I cooked a ton of bacon (the savory flavor was used as a substitute for all things sweet during my first weekend on the detox), cleaned the guinea pig cage, and sundry other things. I also had a chick in another building threaten (and possibly follow through) to call the cops on me and three friends. It was Friday night around 1:45 and we were outside chatting. Her window, on the third floor, was open and I suppose we were a bit loud with our laughter. Now, had this woman said “excuse me, can you keep it down?” things would have been fine. But she came at us like a straight up cunt so I yelled back at her. She threatened to call 911, I told her to go ahead. She kept yelling and eventually said she was going to call the cops (again) so I said “go ahead, it’s three numbers!” Then we thought we heard her actually doing it so we scrambled into our own building and respective apartments. I’m not sure what cunt thought would happen. I mean, it’s a nuisance call more than anything because she couldn’t have seen us that well and she didn’t know our names or addresses so what was she going to do? I felt a bit bad because I don’t like to cause problems but come at me like an asshole and I’m going to give it right back.

Saturday had drama of another kind with my freaking out because J was not responding to my texts. The previous night we had agreed to go to the movies together and so I was surprised when I didn’t get any replies to various messages I sent from 11:30 a.m. through 3:30 p.m. Eventually, I drove to his apartment complex and managed to get into his building (people are so trusting) and found that he was home and his ringer was off, a fact of which he was unaware. My next stop was going to be local hospitals because he never avoids me completely, even if he is upset, but will let me know, at very least, that he is OK. The day’s plans were shot but we went to a used bookstore together and agreed that he would text me the next morning when he was up and moving. We did end up going to the movies on Sunday (Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows, heartbreakingly disappointing) and had a coffee together so no harm no foul.

Other than that, I didn’t do much, just chores and voracious reading so that I could send one of my current books to Hunter. The book in question is Wicked, and dude, have you read this? I knew it wasn’t going to be Harry Potter or something for kids but I was not expecting the level of pornography, religious debate, and political discussion. I liked it and found it very interesting, but it was not at all what I was expecting. Also made me wonder about the mind of the author. I included a note of warning to my friend to prepare him for this book (I previously mentioned the weirdness) but I hope he reads it because it was one of the more interesting books I’ve read in quite some time.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Time Dragon.

Sunday, and not the yummy kind

A friend of mine, Austin, actually made a request regarding my blog and cartoons. He asked that I bring back the days of the week as he really enjoyed when I posted those on Facebook. I've toyed with the idea of drawing the days again but never went through with it. But a request? How on earth could I turn that down? So I give you Sunday:

It's a good representation of how I feel about this particular day of the week. There is the conflict of looking forward to a brand new week in which to do better than the last, but also the regret that your time off from work has gone so quickly and you have to go back to 'real life' as I like to call it. So there you are, Austin, just for you.

More on my weekend later (not that it was all that exciting.) Right now I need to finish my laundry, take a bath, and get ready for, sigh, a new week.

Sunday