There are few things
that will cause a Type A controlling obsessive perfectionist with a
ridiculously high Stanford Binet number to almost kick a wall, door...my
first choice would be to punch someone...something...but I can't type with a broken hand. Besides, I've just repaired
my fucked up Internet Connection/IP conflict/which was one part faulty
driver had to be uninstalled, another part antivirus program gone rabid,
and a large part I created in my attempt to clear out old files.
Hey! At least I fuck up my own computers....I'd never lay a tweaked thumb upon someone else's PC. It was last about this time last year that I had a meltdown when my desktop melted down, and help came from my supposed 'arch-rival' in the Windy City.
Yes, ye olde Love Triangle...its creation and fuel driven by The Man we both were fighting over....which we weren't. There's a reason soap operas were always set in the Midwest. One year later, my hard drive is hard as it can be, my Tech Angel I understand, has come west to pursue artistic endeavors....and that Big Ox we both weren't head over heels about....he's enjoying the alone time he so very much wanted I suppose.
Well, maybe I was a bit light in my loafers. If he wanted to be alone....I live in Hollywood..I should get the Garbo dialogue....I would have gladly taken the younger boy (not by much was he younger either) out for a screening of 'Les Diaboliques'...the original: where the wife and the mistress combine forces and dispose of their ox 8 feet under.
It was my most recent triangle that REALLY burned my bundt cake. I had one half of a couple (yes, the other half was clueless as to the amateur Chemist in his life. This was the start of my internet problems, and we couldn't coordinate a cam session...thus making Louis Pasteur IV a tad miffed. Which made me get really grumpy, and I remarked I'd rather have conversation with a clueless chump vs another performance as the Ham Who Slams...Shazzam!
My ill-fated cyber dartist replied...."I'm used to the fact that guys who use meth are just losers who can't do anything social but party." (I have ordered a full length mirror with magnifier for this deluded soul to re-acquaint himself),
Not one to just end the call, I advised him that dismissing everyone based on a shared hobby/addiction/character flaw was harsh, that I value the friendships (and some of the clashes) I've found here and putting a negative label, just starts the old spin cycle of demonizing. Nope. Not buying today.
I apparently knocked some sense into him...although his next comment made me groan: "If you lived here, I'd date you!". I'm in love with the idea of love, but I like(in theory) for my men and I to disagree....vehemently....disliking each other immensely on sight....not knowing of course this is indeed true love.
How's that for supercalifuckedupthinkingespeciallysinceItoldyou? Yet, I think it's an key element of my charm.
Hey! At least I fuck up my own computers....I'd never lay a tweaked thumb upon someone else's PC. It was last about this time last year that I had a meltdown when my desktop melted down, and help came from my supposed 'arch-rival' in the Windy City.
Yes, ye olde Love Triangle...its creation and fuel driven by The Man we both were fighting over....which we weren't. There's a reason soap operas were always set in the Midwest. One year later, my hard drive is hard as it can be, my Tech Angel I understand, has come west to pursue artistic endeavors....and that Big Ox we both weren't head over heels about....he's enjoying the alone time he so very much wanted I suppose.
Well, maybe I was a bit light in my loafers. If he wanted to be alone....I live in Hollywood..I should get the Garbo dialogue....I would have gladly taken the younger boy (not by much was he younger either) out for a screening of 'Les Diaboliques'...the original: where the wife and the mistress combine forces and dispose of their ox 8 feet under.
It was my most recent triangle that REALLY burned my bundt cake. I had one half of a couple (yes, the other half was clueless as to the amateur Chemist in his life. This was the start of my internet problems, and we couldn't coordinate a cam session...thus making Louis Pasteur IV a tad miffed. Which made me get really grumpy, and I remarked I'd rather have conversation with a clueless chump vs another performance as the Ham Who Slams...Shazzam!
My ill-fated cyber dartist replied...."I'm used to the fact that guys who use meth are just losers who can't do anything social but party." (I have ordered a full length mirror with magnifier for this deluded soul to re-acquaint himself),
Not one to just end the call, I advised him that dismissing everyone based on a shared hobby/addiction/character flaw was harsh, that I value the friendships (and some of the clashes) I've found here and putting a negative label, just starts the old spin cycle of demonizing. Nope. Not buying today.
I apparently knocked some sense into him...although his next comment made me groan: "If you lived here, I'd date you!". I'm in love with the idea of love, but I like(in theory) for my men and I to disagree....vehemently....disliking each other immensely on sight....not knowing of course this is indeed true love.
How's that for supercalifuckedupthinkingespeciallysinceItoldyou? Yet, I think it's an key element of my charm.
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