General catch-all for anything that gets my attention, but is too big to fit on Twitter.
You can find me on Plurk, LJ, Facebook, MySpace, and probably a half-dozen other networking/blogging site, because I am fanatically proprietary of mon Nom du Internet. I swear too much, don't drink nearly as often as I'd like, and all my drugs are prescription.
Although I dig the reblogs because unearned Tumblarity is the sweetest, you can email me at malackey at gmail.
Ha ha! You’re socialists JUST LIKE CANADA NOW.
yhf:
[snip]
If you’ll stop setting it aflame every few tweets, maybe some of us can come to Detroit.
I know. Telling people about not coming to San Francisco upset me so much, I started a small trashcan fire. But I think I can get it under control. With the help of several firemen. Several dozen firemen.
Okay, I think now is when we need to start evacuating people.
On the other hand, you have single handedly tripled the property values downtown by getting rid of all those abandoned buildings before they became crack dens.
Come on. Even if I take care of the little potential crack dens, they’re just going to set up shop on those dozens of empty floors in the GM Ren Cen, the half empty Chase building, or that abandoned skyscraper across from Campus Martius.
Wow, I am not selling this place.
COME SEE SUNNY DOWNTOWN DETROIT!
Shit. Just promise to bring everyone to Vicente’s and everything will be alright.
OMFG, I SWEAR BY ALL THAT IS HOLY, I WILL END YOU IF YOU’VE TORCHED VICENTE’S.
yhf:
[snip]
I hope to meet a lot of you eventually, but it just won’t be this January.
If you’ll stop setting it aflame every few tweets, maybe some of us can come to Detroit.
I know. Telling people about not coming to San Francisco upset me so much, I started a small trashcan fire. But I think I can get it under control. With the help of several firemen. Several dozen firemen.
Okay, I think now is when we need to start evacuating people.
On the other hand, you have single handedly tripled the property values downtown by getting rid of all those abandoned buildings before they became crack dens.
Y’all probably saw it on Twitter, but three women in my course have refused the H1N1 vaccination all us students got this week. That’s their choice - they’re adults, and can take foolish risks with their health if they want to. I got mine, on account of I’m not concerned about the safety of the vaccine, and I like not getting the flu.
However, I am truly horrified by the reasoning these women used. All three said they were concerned about vaccination related autism. Never mind the minor fact that the link between autism and vaccination is complete bullshit, but these are ADULT WOMEN. They’re all over the age of 20, and one is actually in her 40’s. She was actually worried that she could ‘contract’ autism, and pass it on to her college age children.
These are people that hope to be sticking needles in you some day. These are the people you’re going to have to rely on to be advocates for your care, should you find yourself hospitalized. These are the people in charge of handing out the medications. AND SOME OF THEM THINK AUTISM IS CATCHING.
Today, a customer complimented me on how good I looked for my age. She thought I was in my forties. I’m 18. FML
I hope this teaches you to lay off the self-tanner, Lindsay Lohan.
First, the monkeys tried with Ebola.
Then, the birds came for us with Avian Flu.
Then, the pig and their H1N1 (which I just got vaccinated for yesterday).
Next up? Bats. Bring it on, nature. I’m fucking vaccinated!
I’m so tired lately. No matter how much I sleep, I feel like I could sleep more — except I can’t. I’m exhausted, but I toss and turn restlessly. I feel wrung out. I feel wrung out and cranky and overwhelmed. Little things make cry or make me angry. I’m completely unstable.
Disregarding my feelings entirely, life continues to run its course inside the measure of my breaking arms. There’s bills (and bills and bills) that need to be paid and meals that are supposed to be eaten even though they all taste exactly like nothing. I’m also supposed to be writing something that might turn into a novel.
I’ll pause for your laughter because once it sinks in that I am unable to even focus enough to read a book or do the dishes, the idea of me writing a novel will be completely hilarious. The rumors that being crazy make people wild artistic beasts are untrue; it’s more like being crazy makes me an artistic werewolf and I produce fantastic stuff occasionally when the night sky aligns in my hypomanic favor. Those nights, I see clearly what I want to create and the exact words to cut the path from here to there; what I write needs minimal editing and it’s so sharp it makes me tongue bleed. Much of the rest of the time I lay on the couch and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD while occasionally crying about nothing at all and wondering if I can wear this shirt for one more day — at least lately.
Malackey keeps telling me that it will get better, that I will get better. My life isn’t going to be one mood swing after another, and I need to give it time. Patience and all that. Now, if someone could just hurry up and give me some patience.
Yeah, the patience part ain’t easy. I know you’re good and ready to stop feeling like this. All I can suggest are deep breaths, more patience, and that you change that damn shirt already. A good rule of thumb is you can get exactly one day in a row out of your shirts, socks, and undies. If you try to get more out of them, especially in a row, no one will want to hang out with you.
Sears is sending me $50 in gift cards, as a means of apologizing. Fine. I’m not above taking free money, if it means I can get something really fun/scary/stupid with it. Only thing - it has to be $50 or less, cause I’m not giving them a penny.
So far, @shoesonwrong seems to think I need the fake ass. Which, I will admit has a certain appeal. But, I have a few other favorites:
So, any ideas?
Sweet evil jesus, but there’s a lot of butthurt on my dashboard today. Some of you need to grow up, and some of you need to get a thicker skin. Shit.
yhf:
I’m seeing tangential reblogs about fauxhawks and opinions on them. My personal opinion is that the fauxhawk is sartorial semaphore for “Please disregard anything you hear coming out of my mouth, as I am an enormous douchebag.”
This is based on local experience; your mileage may vary.
the douchebags around here have high fades. AKA Army Rangers and the Marines.
I have a faux hawk. I’m pretty sue I’m not an enormous douchebag.
