Picked up some really cool stuff at an estate sale today. Will post pictures tomorrow, but think huge Magnavox stereo console with turntable and 8-track player (sweet) for $25. That’s right.
Plus some great old records, some fantastic old books (including a gift for my favorite English professor), and my mom bought me a drop-leaf, antique oak table for my new dining room.
I cannot wait to move!
I also hate assholes. They’ve finally arrested Drew Peterson for something – though it has nothing to do with the disapperance of his latest wife, it’s still something. The murder of his third wife, to be precise, and according to msn as he got the cuffs slapped on him he said “I guess I should have turned in those library books.” Plus, his mugshot is totally smarmy and makes me want to kick him in the face repeatedly with steel-toed shoes covered in bat excrement. Read all about it here, and get your “shitkickers” ready.
On a much smaller scale, I also take issue with Jack Goes Forth, wherein he went ahead and said that there were no interesting Richmond-based bloggers. Now, I don’t criticize him for writing about his drunken sexual escapades, yet I take issue with him making a broad, sweeping statement about Richmond-based bloggers. Has he read every single Richmond-based blogger? I doubt it. Get off your high-horse, Drunk Boy. But I still read your blog every day.
Here is a list of things that are pissing me off today:
The transformer on the power line that feeds electricity into my house went BOOM today and Dominion has no way of actually speaking to a live human being. I called to report the outage on the “Automated Reporting Line Thingy” and they have a button you can press if you want to report further information than your lights just being out. I hit the button, and the first option was “If you heard an explosion, press one.” That’s crazy to me. Because instead of transferring you to someone right away because you heard AN EXPLOSION, the automated lady says “Thanks for your call, your problem has been reported.” Hello? EXPLOSION, people. Don’t you want to make sure no birds or pets were harmed in your crappy-ass transformer rendering the power line that dips waaayyy too low into my backyard for my comfort unusable? They are supposed to call me when it’s fixed. It’s not yet, and I fear for the turkey sausages and coffee creamer in my fridge.
Actually, that’s got me so pissed off that I can’t think of anything else to report.
This is a spider that was hanging out in the basement.
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It would be much spookier, I realize, if I had a picture of the ginormous Black Widow spider that Jeff slew for me the other week, but I didn’t have my wits about me and therefore did not think to run upstairs before Jeff smooshed the poisonous spider. “Hang on! Let’s take the chance that it will spring onto both of us and bite us in the eyes because it’s very important that I photograph this spider.” No.
Dwight was on the manly canoe trip, so I called my dad and he rushed to my aid in the case of the spider pictured here. He put it and it’s two sacs of babies in a jar and took them away. No doubt to breed them for world domination. Just kidding. He eats them. No! I’m just kidding. He knows me well enough to know that even if he killed it and put it in the trash I would manage to convince myself later that it wasn’t really dead and that it would come at me for vengence. Or that if he flushed it that it would somehow hang out in the U-Bend and come up and bite me in the ass when I take a pee.
I never had a problem with bugs, but now I do. Earwigs, spiders, these little bright red bugs that look kind of like lightning bugs but don’t have wings are in residence, when previously all I had to worry about was roaches and cave crickets. Luckily, we’ve only seen one roach here every, but the cave crickets get upstairs once in a while. I’m always relieved that it is a cricket instead of a spider.
Well I’ve wussed out on you enough for one day. Back to homework.