So, I'm a bit drunk (had to write that a couple of times because I kept on writing butt drunk and I am not butt drunk) and I thought I'd say how do. Well, ordered a new computer, which is on its way from Shanghai right now. And I got a 30G video ipod, which is cool - even though Apple is announcing an even cooler ipod on Tuesday - the bastards! Anyway, got the other imac in pieces in my office trying to take the hard drive out and put it in a seperate enclosure, but unlike the instructions that Apple shows you on line, my mac opens the wrong way. The front comes off, not the back; and I'm stumped as to how to get to the fucking HD now. Pissed, boy was I pissed. So, I decided to cool down by returning a movie that I foolishly bought at WalMart. Can I say how much i dislike WalMart? I had to return the DVD (300, 2-disc special edition) because it came with two of the same disc. Anyway, I feel like my IQ drops about fifty or sixty points as soon as I drive onto the lot of a Walmart. I look around and wonder where these people come from, and then hope like hell that they don't vote, but considering the shitheads we elect to office, it looks like these troglodytes are just lining up at the voting booths. Anyway, so, I take the damn movie back, and even get a replacement right there at customer service, only the clerk CAN'T FUCKIKNG TELL THAT IT'S THE SAME FUCKING MOVIE! Now, there's nothing different on the cover or back of either case, so a somewhat thinking individual could make a reasonable decision that perhaps they were the same movie - I'm just thinking. But no, the movies had to be verified but not one, not two, but three of WalMart's best employees. It took close to a half-hour for this whole process to play out. WTF?
And then (actually, I discovered this last part earlier in the day, but someone just reminded me of it),I noticed in the latest issue of Poets and Writers that the obligated ad for my MFA program (I'm pretty sure all MFA programs need to advertise in Poets and Writers as part of their accreditation), but instead of promoting the instructors or its unique feature of offering a pop fiction as a genre (a fact that the Atlantic seemed to pick out in its recent fcition issue - which, funny enough, the administration of the program seemed to ignore, even when the fact was pointed out to them), so instead of advertising the program, they decide to advertise a fucking party in NYC with a reading by some fucking friend of the director. I can't understand why people would think I'd have a problem with the administration with intelligent decisionmaking like that going on.
So, I decided to drink some beer - Gritty McDuff's Best Bitter, which is very fine indeed. And my lovely wife has been so kind as to go get nachos. Beer, nachos, 300 and Reno:911 Miami! At least my day is ending much better than the late afternoon would have left it.
Oh, and I got to ride on a choo-choo train this morning. My son liked it for the most part, but he was a little reved up (Whoa, deja vu major; I think I wrote that line before - wait, I didn't did I? ANyway, I get deja vu quite often. Could be something with the brian tumor, as they say tumors supposedly give one psychic powers or something). ANyway, even though he was a little rambunctious, it was a lot of fun to watch him and his sister.
So, what's up with you guys?