badrabbyt

so, i did a small amount of moving in at the new blog. but really... i spent most of the weekend with a migrane. and i have medication for this sort of thing, but it was a migrane that only turned itself down with the medication. after the four to six hours of minor relief, it would come back with a thudding vengance. it's even here now, at the base of my neck.

argh. we're blaming this on stress.

anyway, here's the new url:

http://badrabbyt.wordpress.com/

update your links and browsers, please. subscribe if you wanna. as things disappear here, they will re-appear there.

and with that, i'd like to lay down. sadly, they expect me to work. but thanks for stopping by.

you piss me off, blogspirit.

the not-liking-the-bloglines. the customer service that requires me to dust off my french (that's not even a joke, y'all. thank baby jesus for babel fish). also, the customer service that is not friendly, or useful, or... service-y. the random deletion of comments, and the random verification of other comments. the changing of code at sheer whimsy.

the craptastic.... uh... everything.

we here at badrabbyt (okay, it's really just me and the cat) will be relocating this weekend. i have totally had enough.

worthless cocksuckers. which is not swearing at all. in the least.

my ass.

seriously. i saw two random bastards that, when i'm in charge of the world, will have their driving licenses yanked and twenty papercuts apiece bestowed. on the webby bit of the hand, and the sides of the index finger, because that's where they really hurt.

the first one was on the damn freeway. i'm not sure if it makes her better or worser than the numbnuts i saw on a city street, but hey. oh, and i didn't have my camera, or i totally woulda taken pictures. or at least published their license plate numbers.

anyway, on the freeway. i'm driving on a bit of road where there are three lanes, and i'm in the center lane. in the fast lane, about two or three car lengths ahead of me, a white sedan bumped into the center divider, which is straight up cement right there. no sparks or anything, and the car keeps going. it slows down a bit, then speeds up. i'm alongside it long enough to notice the driver is either a woman or a dude wearing a crazy curly black wig (cecil, was that you?). she speeds up again, until she's practically in some guy's trunk, then slows down so fast the SUV behind her nearly hits her. this crazy behavior, along with quite a bit of weaving, makes me speed up and change lanes. the SUV was an unmarked police car, which was kinda nice. for once, the po-po are exactly where they should be. crazy lady is now behind me, and the cop lights up like a carnival. we're all in the fast lane, and in trying to get to the right shoulder, she nearly clips an 18-wheeler. oh, and the cop's lights were going for a full minute before she turned on her blinker. i never did see them actually reach the side of the road.

the other instance - i was walking in my neighborhood. and i was knitting a sock, but that's just how crazy rolls around here. anyway, there's this stop sign. it's been there forever. and this old guy runs right through it, stopping instead in front of driveway someone is trying to back out of. i actually yell something un-ladylike (shocking, eh?), and the guy turns to me with an annoyed look on his face. i point to the stop sign, then give him the finger. he speeds away. i should note three things about this stop sign. #1 - it's there because of a crosswalk, which is connected to a neighborhood park. #2 - at any given time, there are an ass-ton of little kids running about, because of the park. and because i live in a town where people drop litters of children like their tubes are going to dry up. #3- the park and crosswalk are connected to a school. actually, a grade school and a middle school. seriously. mass amounts of kids, and this bastard's running the stop sign.

so, uh... i have no point. just drive careful-like. and walk careful-like. and, a thousand papercuts to the next guy that races down my dead-end street.

thanks for stopping by.

so...

see, this is why i dislike taking long-ish breaks from the blog. sure, it was a good little mini-break, and i feel vaguely refreshed and all. but, i do tend to forget what i've said and not said. which further makes me feel like i'm my mom, with the not-remembering and all.

most recently, my car is on its last little legs. it's been having a hard time holding its water as of late, and wednesday night last week, it scared the holy hell out of me while i was driving to work. there was noise, and smoke, and the threat of overheating. all of which i dealt with reasonably well (this means i used very little bad language, and was constantly giving pep talks to my car. it's a good thing i don't carpool, y'all). when i took it to my wonderful mechanic, he told me to just buy a new car, because it made better financial sense to put down what he was going to have to charge me on something that looked and sounded better. that's the cliff notes version, and... well, this man would not lie to me. i've had my geo - named princess palindrome because the front pretty much looks the same as the back - since 1999. it's a '95, and it gets great mileage. i've held onto it primarily for this reason. after having a large van piloted by an old, drunk bastard backed up onto the hood of my car a few years back, i've been a bit embarrassed about its physical appearance. but it still ran fabulously, and i just referred to the body damage as my 'anti-theft device'. but now... my baby is making some weird noises, and losing water whenever she damn well feels like it. and, my mechanic tells me someone must have hit my car in a parking lot or something, because there's more body damage. and, he says, they didn't leave a note or anything because they were pretty sure i wouldn't notice.

and i kinda didn't. i mean, i noticed, but i just thought i wasn't paying attention and the dent had been there for awhile.

anyway... i am sorta on the hunt for a new car. and i think i may have found what i want, and i've dealt with a so-far nice car dealer. but i'm not talking about all that until i have something to talk about. my princess is still drivable. but only for short distances. so, z has offered to switch cars with me, until i get my wheels under control. it's really very nice of her, and i appreciate it to no end. but... her ca's an automatic. i hate automatics. i don't trust an engine that shifts on its own, is all. still, i'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth or anything, and i drove her car to work tonight. once i got here, i realized a few things: my ID badge, which i need to get into the buildings at night, is in my car, in my driveway. along with the key to my locker, and my gym membership card. i was less than pleased.

also, i had to bang on a few windows to get someone to let me in, and i got that sour you're-not-prepared look from a few co-workers. well, screw them. i'm disheveled, and i keep trying to shift. and it's a station wagon. argh.

in brighter news, i finished a few knitting projects, which always makes me happy. i saw a great movie, talk to me, which i highly recommend. i discovered one more reason i love YMCrae - during the previews of talk to me, we saw a quick second of an interview with milla jovovich, and dudes... they're making another resident evil! both of us made that inhaling noise that girls make when they see something bright and shiny. i'm so excited! i love resident evil. and so does she! rock!

in a few days, i get to get on a plane - really a giant suppository with wings, if you ask me - to go visit moi. i'm so very thrilled! and i'm not packed yet. but that's okay. i do rather love airports. i don't like getting on the plane, because it means i have to stay in one cramped place for a while. but the airport is nice. there's all that possibility, and people are usually happy at the airport. except for babies. babies hate the airport. and they hate landing patterns.

just saying. thanks for stopping by. i need to eat something.

(oh - blue corn is not real food. carry on.)

seriously. there is no blue food. i mean, found in nature. i'm aware there is/ are blue candies and whatnot, and if you put blue food dye into your batter, you can make blue bread - but dude, the ew factor is pretty high there - or blue cookies. and don't point to blueberries. they're purple; blue on the vine my ass. so are blackberries. okay, technically the juice in blackberries is a really dark fuschia. fine.

whatever.

so... have i mentioned smurfs yet this week? no? i was thinking about smurfs not long ago. actually, while i was eating the berries i mentioned briefly in the previous post. because there were blueberries in my fruit mixture, those lying little suckers. anyway - smurfs. in the theme some to that tv show, there was some mention of them being three apples high. i used to be able to quote the whole damn song, but apparently some booklearnin' erased that nugget. have you ever stacked three apples, just to get a visual of how tall a smurf is? i bet that's just me. and dudes, let me tell you... they're kinda tall. i mean, they're still little people and all, but still. for reference, my cat? about three apples tall. on all four legs, not standing up on her hind legs like some prairie dog.

basically, smurfs are not as short as the cartoon would lead you to believe. those three apples? for the sake of argument, let's say each apple is 3-4 inches tall. your smurf would be 9 inches to a foot tall. which is about from my elbow to my pinky (i'm a short person myself) (yes, this has nothing to do with anything. pipe down in the back there. we'll be having a test later). that's tall. how did they hide from that gargamel dude if they were a foot tall? and what kind of mushroom does a foot-tall blue dude live in? i know - they're magic. they use magic to hide from gargamel and live in mushrooms. personally, i think someone chewed through a couple of those 'magic' mushrooms and saw blue people.

and, of course, there's this. it kinda makes me laugh.

i usually care not to think about this, but since i'm here... the one female smurf? just one? this is really horrible, but i'm gonna say it anyway... do they drown the girl babies, like they used to in china? it makes me cringe. okay... after a hefty 20 minutes of research, my memory has been jogged. there was not one but three female smurfs. smurfette, her little sister sassette, and... was her name granny? nana? an elder lady smurf. but still... three females, and... um... 97 males? i think there's only supposed to be 100 smurfs at any one time. i don't know how that works out.

and... who pitched this idea to the network? i mean, how high was that guy? i sometimes watch children's television now, and i try to imagine what sort of drugs the creators were on. don't even get me started on the teletubbies. or monchichi, which no one but me seems to remember. i still have two of those dolls, i think.

wow. what the hell's in this hummus, anyway?

i was going to make a bunch of catty observations today, but... well, i've been boggled by smurfs. again. they are a cultural train wreck. i can't look away.

i've decided - my soul mate will have to announce himself to me by singing their theme song. preferably on the first date. thanks for stopping by.