Archive for October 13th, 2007

People should die on their own time, god-fuck-it

Saturday, 13 October 2007

My father’s sister had to fucking die at 1:30 AM this Saturday, thus fucking up my weekend off, which I get only one of per month.  I have one friend left in the State of Florida and now my opportunity to see him for a lousy 3 or 4 hours (per week, if I’m lucky) is fucked.  I’m pig-biting mad. 

Pull your jaw back up, I only knew Auntie slightly more than you did.

If the old man had been really close to her I would be less bitter about having to spend time with him, but he doesn’t seem too broken up about it.  There’s no explicit reason why he and his sister (dead at 62) were never close, they just weren’t, that’s all.  I’m beyond sure the diamond of your family has its share of fucked-up facets as well.

Why couldn’t Auntie have croaked tonight instead?  I could deal with the old man on Sunday, since it’s pre-ruined by my having to go back to work on Monday.

I might be a loser but MY time is MINE, and fuck anyone and anything that gets between me and it.

Got nuthin but exploding melon

Saturday, 13 October 2007

I’m glad to have this weekend off as a coda to a solid week of doing…nothing, having the week off and just watching TV, recorded TV to be sure, but in the end most of it crap.

With modern TV, even the subjects you find interesting are presented helplessly stunted and slow, trapped inside the TV format, e.g. fucking Mythbusters has to reexplain every stunt after every commercial break. As my old man pointed out, these shows are for fried people coming home from work who don’t want to think, they just want to be entertained.  Fair enough , but is it really impossible to entertain and move information quickly? In the Age of Tivo, you can always rewind.

You already know this, but you can absorb a lot more information in 5 minutes of reading or even surfing than watching TV.

In other news, I revise my opinion–slightly–of “Supergirl” on Smallville. She has competent TV acting ability but hardly a rack, and her hair needs a major overhaul. C’mon, didn’t you know she was going to explode that melon all over Clark? And Lana still needs to die, for real. Make it turn out the idiot is a clone or something. For Kryp’s sakes there are now THREE lovely bitches who know Clark’s “secret”, four if you count Annette O’Toole (and I do).