Monday, June 02, 2008

ThePeach is in a Cheery Mood Again and OH FUCK OFF

Hi, Kittens.

You’ll be happy to know that the brain ninjas are gone again and I’m back to my cheery, surly self. I was feeling pretty shitty all last week, what with the headaches and the ninjas, and I apologize to any poor souls (FauxHawk) who had to put up with me (FauxHawk), listen to me bitch (FauxHawk), and/or lose a hand in the attempt to touch me (FauxHawk). I’m much better now.

I wrote myself a prescription for a potent and powerful ninja-drug on Thursday, and it looked a little something like this:

2 large bagels
1 30 minute deep tissue massage from gay Indian man with surprisingly strong forearms
1 3 hour nap
1 low-cut shirt
5 hours of binge drinking with friends
1 slow-dance with TOP
1 tongue-kiss from TheCrazy
1 orgy offer from 2 Swiss mens witnessing tongue-kiss
1 $100 bar tab
1 stumble home in hooker heels
1 bottle of mouth-wash accidentally dumped down leg
1.5 hours rough, drunk, minty (mouthwash) sex.
2 orgasms
1 scarred kitten
4.5 hours drunk-hobo sleep
1 self-proclaimed sick day
0 hours work
1 large bagel

By Friday afternoon I was completely cured.

The happiness streak continued as FauxHawk and I decided to drive to CapitalCity that morning. We had brunch with my grandpa, who told us all about his recent senior’s cruise down a local river. They played shuffleboard, had a live boogie-woogie band, and ate soft food. His room was “adequate” and he met some “nice fellows”, although there were a few “hot-shots” who “thought they knew everything”. Ok.

After brunch we drove over to my new apartment building so I could check out my new place. I was pleased with the lack of rodents and sewage-free bathroom ceiling. Also, there’s plenty of room for Milo to gallop around in, and a garbage chute which promises fun kitten adventures: Milo finds new slide; eats garbage; paces air-ducts for eternity. Also, I discovered a little piece of UniversityTown in my new building, so I know I’ll never be home-sick: the landlord is the EXACT clone of the fat, surly, snaggle-toothed, mulletted woman who serves poutine at the UniversityTown Bubba’s!!! I’m going to get loaded every Friday/Saturday and go to her office and try to order some fries “wisssh hextra curdsssh.” I wonder how long until I get evicted? 3 weeks? 3 days? I’ll keep you updated.

After we checked out my new digs we went to FauxHawk’s house to drop off his laundry for his Mom. (Editor’s note: he is 33 years old). While there, his Mom conversed with us (please imagine in thick Hungarian accent):

FauxMom: Hello my dahlings! *hugs each of us*
FauxHawk: Hi.
ThePeach: Hi!
FauxMom: I just bought food for dinner tonight! 6 sharp!
FauxHawk: Oh…ok.
ThePeach: *kicks FauxHawk in shins. Hard. Shoots daggers at him*
FauxHawk: Oh, um…Peach and I had plans to go out for dinner tonight…I promised her…
FauxMom: 6 sharp. Don’t forget to pick up the Challah and the wine and, dahling, I really think you should shave.
FauxHawk:…ok.
ThePeach: *sigh*

It was hard to be mad when the woman was so obviously excited to feed us. Plus there’s no way to say “No” to a Jewish Mother. Seriously, it’s in the Torah.

FauxHawk went upstairs to shower and shave and I chatted with his Mom in the kitchen. The next thing I knew I was elbow deep in matzah-mix and was being tutored in how to make matzah-ball soup. It turned out delicious. I might be a Jew now. The next day I came back to UniversityTown and hung out with a friend all night. On Sunday FauxHawk and I went to TheMarried’s house for dinner and some intense Wii mariokart racing. I, of course, was Princess Peach. I lost.

This morning I officially convocated from UniversityTown University. I went to work early so I could pick up my diploma and the program which proves I graduated with distinction. I felt smart and wonderful, basking in the glow of my relaxing weekend and sense of accomplishment.

Then I came to work.

It started out well enough. I FINALLY finished entering the never-ending stack of motherfucking data. 200 30-page surveys, all painstakingly entered over a 1-month span. I acquired arthritis of the hands, quasi-modo of the spine, and retardation of the mind as a result of the non-stop data entry. It's an understatement to say I was pleased to be finished. Enter TheBoss:

TheBoss: Peach! How goes the data entry?
ThePeach: I FINISHED!!! I FINISHED!!! The world is a beautiful place again!!! *gets up to do a happiness jig*
TheBoss: You’re finished?
ThePeach: *lifts leg to begin happiness jig*
TheBoss: You’re not finished. What about those 3 boxes of data in my office?
ThePeach: *sets down leg* There are 3 boxes of data in your office?
TheBoss: Ya. You didn’t know?
ThePeach: No. They’re in your office.
TheBoss: Oh. Maybe I should have told you.
ThePeach: *sob*
TheBoss: Hey, is that a box of chocolate?
ThePeach: *sniffle* Ya, my Dad bought it for me this weekend.
TheBoss: *mouth full of chocolate* It’sh not bad tashting.
ThePeach: *sob*
TheBoss: *takes another bite of chocolate* Meh, I’ve had better. *takes another bite* By the way, before the end of the day I want you to run frequencies on every variable in the data-set.
ThePeach:…there are literally thousands of variables. Tens of thousands.
TheBoss: It should only take an hour.
ThePeach: It will take me THREE DAYS! MINIMUM! *wails*
TheBoss: OH, and I still have to go over the value labels with you. When are you going for lunch?
ThePeach: Now.
TheBoss: No, I need to talk to you. I’ll be back down in 5 minutes, k? Don’t go anywhere. *takes another bite of chocolate* Man, this chocolate is kind of shitty.
ThePeach: STOP EATING IT, THEN!!!!
TheBoss: Ha, you’re funny. See you in 5.


This was at 12:15. It is now 2:45. I’d gnaw on my chocolate bar to sustain me, but the fucker ate most of it with his greedy little mouth.

What’s that, ninjas? Burn the place to the ground?

Looks like I need a refill on my prescription.


*opens bottle of gin* LET'S GIV-ER!!!

ThePeach

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