Category Archives: Enraged Owlbear

I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!

I am diseased

I am diseased

I am sick. I’d like to say I’m sick of life, and while that’s true, that doesn’t really explain these cold/flu-like symptoms I have. Being diseased sucks. Therefore, I would like to make the following announcement to the world at large:

I want all of your balls to die.

That is all.

I’m drnka and full of rage

I’m drnka and full of rage

So mission impossible turned out to be mostly possible.

4 bottels of booze left
i still gotta wake up early tomorow and sunday
to9 it hink

hahahah im so entertained right now

um…… less than 24 hours.
0 change of hangoves (*like thats happening HA!)
complete dispoalsal of all evide ce

thats the trickiest part i think. fucken bottles. i’m gonna get my nickel back for em i hope. if not, they’re totally going in some random dumpster. SRSLY, there’s no need for this shit, but it tota.llly is happening anyway and it sucks

I bet thits will be real funny to read tomoorrw.

yo its like 4 am here. i gitta gote to bed. errr, i gotta get to bed. i set my alarm before i got toasted, so i know it’ll ring tomorrow. i just dont know when, and it if sit a time where i set the alarm, its probably early, so i shoudl seleep.

“Dude. Wait… what?”

ZOMG I heart BJs!

ZOMG I heart BJs!

BJ’s Wholesale Club, that is. Gas prices here, as everywhere, have been pretty retarded. I’ve heard from several places that the national average is something like $2.86/gallon. I wish that gas was that cheap around here. We haven’t seen prices under $3.00 for 87 octane gas (our regular grade) since last year.

UNTIL NOW.

I went to BJ’s today to get gas. The one near me has a gas station where they sell cheap gas that’s even cheaper if you’re a member. I, of course, am a member. (Thanks Mom!) I paid $2.96 for the premium that Isabelle demands. If I still had Nornan III, I’d have paid $2.74. Compared to prices over the last year, that’s fucking cheap. Compared to prices that those of us remember from only a few years back, that’s like only having a slightly splintered broomstick jammed up your ass instead of a broomstick riddled with rusty nails jammed up your ass.

Personally I like the minimal splinter variety, were I to be given a choice between the two.

What really gets me is that BJ’s seems to be the only place where this lowering of gas prices is occurring across the board. At other stations, the 87 octane regular grade anywhere between 10 and 20 cents higher per gallon than it is at BJ’s. But their mid grade (89 octane) and premium (93 octane) prices have not moved a cent for the last three weeks. NOT ONE FUCKING CENT. The majority of stations, regardless of corporate affiliation or local franchise ownership seem to have locked their mid and premium prices at $3.15 and $3.25, respectively. BJ’s non-member pricing for premium is $3.05. That’s a bit more than what other stations are selling their regular gas for (and in a few cases is dead even with the competitors’ regular gas prices). Now I ask you, what the fuck is going on here? I don’t know about the rest of the country, but here you can’t escape the constant whining on a variety of media outlets (especially News12 Long Island) about the poor oppressed gas station owners who have razor thin margins because the big bad terrorists and the corporate office and liberals and foreign policy and [insert scapegoat here] is making them charge high prices.

O RLY?!

You seem to have some decent prices for your regular gas. BJ’s is able to charge absurdly cheaper prices than you fuckers despite all the strife that you claim affects the oil industry as a whole. What I think is that you assholes have been making money hand over gas pump and are reluctant to give it up. I hope these fuckers drown in their filthy gasoline.

BJ’s Wholesale Club, I salute you!

Le sigh.

Le sigh.

Why am I up this late and not tired? I should be tired. I want to sleep, but not really. I know I should sleep, even though I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. It’s 2:13 AM; sleeping is simply what’s done at this time by polite society.

I’m polite society, right?

Shouldn’t I sleep? I want to… do… stuff. Like watch a DVD or play a video game or read a book. But then I think about actually doing it and I’m like “Nah, I don’t really want to do that. I honestly have no desire for it.”

I should sleep. That would be a good thing, I think. I wouldn’t be suffering from this ennui. But I’m not too sure that I want to sleep. I could get in my car and go someplace, but gas is expensive to just fritter away and also there’s not actually a place for me to go here at 2:16 AM.

Then again, there might be a place to go here at 2:16 AM, but I bet its where the cool kids go and I don’t get invited to those places. I’m not on the guest list.

I got a message on my voicemail on my cell phone. I wish I knew who it was from or what it was about. You know how when you talk on a cell phone sometimes and the other person’s words cut in and out because of bad reception or microwaves or gnomes or whatever? It was like that. I think I heard maybe 3 complete words and the rest was grunting sounds and halting nonsense. It was so bad that I couldn’t even tell who it was. I hope it wasn’t important. I didn’t get any follow-up messages or anything, so I guess not.

I feel like I should have a real job. One with a real salary and real responsibilities and real humans that work there, not refugees from the glass sorting factory. Maybe I’m getting old or maybe its an effect of me graduating, but summer vacation is starting to feel wrong. I need a grad school or a real job.

It occurs to me that I haven’t used a single naughty word this entire post. I’m tempted to use one now, just because.

I don’t think I will.

Why is it that some people are all like “Naughty words are bad and only immature people say them” but then those same people who think this way also prevent the most immature people of all, children, from saying them. When children say naughty words these hypocrites are all like “Don’t say naughty words because its bad! That’s adult language and you’re not an adult.” Something about this… something about it just doesn’t seem right, you know? Is it adult language or immature language? The movies seem to think its adult language because they don’t let kids see movies that have naughty words in them.

I use naughty words. A lot. What does that make me?

I have no idea when to use “its” and when to use “it’s.” MS Word’s grammar check yells at me whenever I use one and makes me change it, but then it yells at me again and makes me change it back, and then it yells again and this goes on for some time. I think I knew once which one to use when, but now I don’t. I should look it up.

You know what’s really bad? I’m writing this and I’m not even drunk or high or anything. There really is no excuse for it.

Goddamn kids and their music scripting!

Goddamn kids and their music scripting!

Man, script kiddies need to die. Some fuckers have been carrying out DoS attacks on Dreamhost today, around the same time I was updating my software. Because of this, my site was fucked for a bit. I think the WordPress upgrade went ok, after I did some voodoo with my FTP client, but the Gallery software seems to be in some sort of magic no-no place. It still works (I think), it just won’t upgrade. I think. Fucken script kiddies need to go fornicate themselves with an iron pole.

EDIT #1: OK, it seems like Gallery is mildly broken. Upgrading it causes the site to shit itself. Restoring the backup of causes Gallery itself to work, as I can go to http://www.mytwistedmind.net/gallery/main.php and see my pictures, but the Random Image thing is returning an error. What fun I find for myself on Saturday nights. To think, I could be out engaged in such boring activities like rampant drinking, drug use, and anonymous sex. I sure dodged a bullet there!

EDIT #2: Never mind, then. On a hunch, I checked out Gallery’s configuration, and it seems it’s got a plugin for random images which decided to disable itself. I’ve re-enabled it and now it seems to work. I still can’t upgrade, but I really don’t care about that. Note to self: Don’t upgrade website software just because you’re bored, you fucking ass.

Betrayal Most Foul

Betrayal Most Foul

Ah, fuck it.

PS: Hey Weigh Station: You are a bloated sack of shit who deserves nothing less than complete and total misery for the rest of your filthy days, you cocksucking cuntrag. I hope that when your end comes it is drawn out and as painful as humanly possible. People such as yourself are the reason humanity is in the sorry state it’s in, you filthy, morally bankrupt whore. And yes, I called you Weigh Station because you are large and misshapen, like a busted tractor-trailer, and frighten children and small dogs with your horrible visage. Also, you have your own gravitational pull.

What do I have to be thankful for? Perhaps your mom.

What do I have to be thankful for? Perhaps your mom.

Another year, another Thanksgiving weekend, and another Thanksgiving weekend spent wasted doing infinite work because my professors are jerks. I swear, this site is turning into a running list of “What Pissed Me Off in the Last Two Weeks.” Maybe I should rename the site. ::rolleyes::

Instead of rambling on about what I’m thankful for this past year, I think I’ll invent my own holiday and talk about that instead. I call this new, wondrous holiday, “Thankstaking.” This will of course become an official holiday of The NORN Collective, for those of you still paying attention to that sort of thing. As the Imperious Leader, I decree it and it will be so. So yeah, Thankstaking. What’s Thankstaking? To answer that, we must first review Thanksgiving. On Thanksgiving, fuckers are running around thanking nebulous entities and no one in particular for ethereal things and just nonsensical crap. “I’m thankful for my family!” “I’m thankful for a great job!” “I’m thankful I’m not oppressed in my own country!” Well guess what? I’M NOT. I’m not thankful for any of those things (largely cause they don’t exist for me, but that’s another story). Now who is it that they’re thanking for these things? When you watch “a very special heartwarming Thanksgiving episode of Gilmore Girls” the people usually say it while sitting around a table and staring off into space or possibly the turkey.

I aim to correct this.

No longer will I give thanks to random fuckers for random things. From here on out, bitches be thanking me. Why? Because I sacrifice for aforementioned bitches, that’s why. Let me show you my first annual Thankstaking list, and you’ll soon understand:

Thankstaking: Year One
The following people owe me thanks
1) My mom: She gave away my cats. WTF?! She should thank me for not flying into a bloodrage and ending the family line.
2) My workplace: Treated like garbage, disrespected if not outright despised by 99% of the staff, and oppressed by management. Why? Because I do my job better than they do and fuckers don’t like it. These colon cowboys should thank me for doing my job so well and inventing half the processes that allow us to operate way more efficiently than we did before I got there. As an addendum to this: The people I work with directly, those that report to my supervisors would do well to remember that if pushed, I can be an unmitigated ass. I’ve been amazingly lenient to this point, but if I’m continued to be viewed as some sideshow act for their amusement, there will be Trouble. They should be thankful I’ve restrained myself thus far.
3) My marine bio professor: This guy has us analyze data for two months after a field trip on a research ship on the Long Island Sound and shows us his love by giving us a REDICULOUSLY long lab report on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving (or Thankstaking if you’re assimilated), and tells us we have a week to complete it. What is that shit? This may be one of the hardest classes ever in terms of tests/assignments and its only a 200 level course. He should thank the entire class for putting up with the piss poor deadlines.
4) My marine bio professor, again: A Thankstaking first; someone’s on here twice. Why is he here twice? Remember the field trip I mentioned? This guy has us go all over creation to dig mud because this helps us understand marine bio better. Uh-huh. I’ll get right on that. We’ve been to Tobay beach and bay (which wasn’t so bad except for the horribly early hour), Tobay salt marsh (where we were knee deep in mud and the grass was taller than we were and there were mosquito breeding ponds every 10 feet), and the Long Island Sound on the Research Vessel Seawolf courtesy of SUNY Stony Brook. This last one was a real gem, requiring a stupid early start to the day and A COMPLETE LACK OF DIRECTIONS TO THE DOCK. THANKS, ASSHOLE. I almost missed the boat cause I had no clue where to go. On Dec. 1 at 2:30 AM we have to go the Fulton Fish Market at Hunt’s Point in the city and a week later we’re going to the New York Aquarium. This guy should thank us for putting up with his absurd (not to mention eccentric) field trips.
5) My physics professor: Here’s a guy who has a serious disconnect between what he teaches in class and what he gives you tests on. Here’s my grades for the semester: 22, 38, 96, 91. Notice any patterns? The first two tests were when I studied for that test like any other test, by going over the notes and making sure I understood the concepts. Too bad the test was on decoding word problems we’ve never had any experience with. I did well on the second two tests by doing EVERY single example in the textbook for the chapters we were being tested on and cramming all night (literally) the night before the test date. And because he didn’t give us our first test until after the midpoint of the semester, he’s gotta cram in the rest of the tests in a short period of time, which means I have a test the Wednesday after Thankstaking. He owes us thanks for not going insane and mauling him.
6) My extended family: These guys rarely ask me how I’m doing. In any given encounter there is a non-zero chance that they might inquire about my health or emotional state. They appear to be solely concerned with whether I’m making progress in fulfilling the dream of all my genetic relatives. What dream is this, you ask? Why, its the dream that all Indian families have for their kids: To make them into doctors. They should be thankful that I put up with them year after year without telling them what I really think.

That’s all I can think of right now, which is for the best I suppose since this shit is getting long. I’m sure I’ll think of more and add them as Thankstaking approaches. This November 24th I won’t be giving thanks, I’ll be taking it from those who owe me. Line up at the door and cough up, fuckers. Thanks to my little list, you know who you are and you know what you owe. Get to it.

You know what I hate?

You know what I hate?

Lab reports. I fucking hate lab reports. It’s not so bad writing a lab report for a lab where you learned something or did something worthwhile. However, it sucks ass to write a lab report for fucking worthless labs. Yeah, cause i really need to make 85 graphs of when there’s a high tide and a low tide. That shit is so useful and enlightening. And yes, physics professor, gravity still pulls you down at 9.81 meters per second squared, just like when you were a kid! Meanwhile, the reasearch I’m trying to do in a real lab setting keeps getting screwed over cause of all this other junk I have to do. How am I taking less classes then last semester and have more work? Well, time to finish this FSM-forsaken physics lab report. Maybe tomorrow in the physics lab we’ll get to play catch and then draw 45 graphs that look the same about objects in motion.

Coming soon: Tales from the Dungeon (aka work)! Story #1 is the tale of innocent Luis being horribly betrayed by the evil known only as the Traitorous Temp!