Friday, December 02, 2005

sex and car crashes...

okay, that title really has absofuckinglutely nothing to do with today's post, but my copy of crash was sitting by the computer and apparently janet maslin of the new york times thought this would be a great way to describe the movie: my reply, instantly provided by my wise-ass bastard inner monologue, was "no fucking duh".

which brings me to my next random nonsequitor: my inner monologue. this creature, i think, is possibly another entity entirely that explains everything i see as if it were a novel (most often, an extremely dull and mundane novel, but a novel nonetheless), but also has a second voice that is constantly making rude, sarcastic, and sometimes even racist and sexist and most definitely not socially acceptable comments to everything. i glean from this voice, the kinds of things that would actually be funny (most of the time, hopefully anyways) to the populace in general, or occasionally that are like inside jokes with myself only, like the "you know what would be fun?" thing. do i hear voices then? yes. are they telling me to kill people or blow shit up? not usually. not in a serious way anyways. if i start to listen too hard, then i spose i will get myself on some drugs, quick.

we've been offline for a bit, switching internet providers. this is the reason for the lag in posting.

it's snowing! fucking crazy. not the snow. not even my ability to drive in it (my driver's license is an alaskan license. i spent five years in fairbanks. winter driving in fairbanks is like driving on an ice-skating rink with six inches of fresh powder on it. i am not scared of driving in a paltry 3 inches of fresh powder.) i am scared to fucking death of the other drivers on the road around here. they've absolutely no clue. yesterday, i was driving on 512 with the snow coming down fairly hard, and i could easily divide the drivers into two groups: ridiculously slow and stupid, and ridiculously fast and stupid. only a small handful of people would i put into the "safely plugging along" category.

then i was delivering last night as well. not that it was really that bad for most of night. but towards the end it got a little hairy, and m refused to take another run. flat out refused. our little che guevarra of the pizzas. it threw our twat manager into a frenzy, (as an aside, it is important for me to add here that this particular manager can't manage her own ass with extra hands and detailed instructions, let alone a whole store, and she fucking panics at every little thing.) and she was going to try to get me to cover the rest of his shift. but i cut her off short and told her, "if you're going to ask me to close, the answer is absolutely no fucking way." then she says, "oh no, i wasn't going to get you to try and cover." fucking liar.

so the area manager told all his store managers that if they felt it wasn't safe for their drivers to go ahead and close early. yeah, don't do me any favors, bastard. so i'm hoping they go ahead and decide that they shouldn't be open again today. nothing has changed really, there's still a ton of snow everywhere, and snow clouds in the sky with a promise of much more, probably about the time i'm sposed to be on. and people call like fucking crazy when it snows. i don't get that. you are unwilling to leave the house and pick up the pizzas, but fuck me, i should be overjoyed to drag myself out into the fray to drop your steaming pies off at your doorstep and risk my life with the fucking crazies and the slick roads for a measly two-dollar tip? yeah, that makes sense.

but i must leave off now, as the kids are in desperate need of some snow time, and i'm looking forward to snowmen and snowballs and frozen fingers and whatever else we can discover outside.

darth sardonic


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