dextra: (Cherry Hammer)
Text convo with [ profile] cielamara.

Dextra: Beat em over the head with a Louisville Slugger and drink heavily. That's my motto.

Nikki: I want to see that in Latin on someone's coat of arms.

Dextra: God damn it. You know if you say these things to me I have to draw them.

Nikki: Well, you needed motivation to draw tonight, didn't you? :P

Dextra: Damn it. I was gonna piss around and play Arkham City.

Nikki: I think you should put some swans on there. Like oh, how dainty and pretty and then BOOM! HEADSHOT with a wing. Swans will beat some ass.
I ruin everything, it's my specialty.


Nikki: Trollolololol :D:D:D


Nikki: And maybe a four-leaf clover because it's on the Davis coat of arms and also to say BISH YOU LUCKY I'M TOO DRUNK TO REALLY STOMP YO ASS. Building a theme here.
Though if I were desigining a coat of arms for myself it would feature a goose and its mottow would be FUCK YOU, I'M A GOOSE, GEESE DON'T CARE. But in Latin.

Dextra: I did just get a coat of atms* in the mail. It's all Dr Who related. Odd coincidence.

Nikki: Clearly you need to design this coat of arms.

Dextra: Biiiiiitch.

Nikki: :D It's so cute that you're haing such a hard time spelling "mistress of all that is awesome."

Dextra: No, I think I know how to spell cuntbag. :p I'm also proud of my phone for having cuntbag in its dictionary.

Nikki: LMAO did you put it there?

Dextra: ...maybe.

Ok, so to recap, my phone is made up of equal parts LOL, OMG and WTF.

LOL - It's been known to change *hugs* to *jihad*

OMG - Its internal dictionary contains words like "cuntbag", "twatwaffle" and "Benedict Cumberbatch". There's actually a shortcut for the last one.

*WTF - Sometimes, things like "arms" come out as "atms". Now I'm wondering what the fuck a coat made of atms looks like. o_O
dextra: (Infinite Mockery)
My Sunday is the first day of the work week for me. So while the rest of the world gets a day off, I...don't. But, I have a totally clear Friday, so I'll deal. Here's how mine goes:

7:30 am - First alarm on my phone goes off. I tap the snooze.
8:00 am - Second alarm goes off. I tap the snooze yet again.
8:15 am - Third alarm goes off (this is actually the snooze from the first alarm reactivating). I turn it off.
8:30 am - Fourth alarm (second snooze) goes off. I unplug phone from the charger, turn off alarm, prepare to swing feet off of bed and sit up.
9:52 am - Phone screams with a text message and nearly makes me wet myself. My text alert sound is the Wilhelm Scream.
10:03 am - Sit bleary-eyed in front of computer with coffee and a Clif bar while taking vitamins and Claritin and reading email and Facebook. Multitasking at its finest.
More thrilling heroics under here. )
dextra: (Infinite Mockery)
I meant to do a post on this a while back. I think I only hesitated becuase a) I have a hard time talking about this without laughing so hard I cry and b) I didn't think anyone would believe me. But now, I have screenshot evidence a la Facebook:

Now, most of us live outside of the cultural vacuum that is Kentucky (apologies to those of you that are, but you know what I'm talking about). And to the rest of the world, the word "cornhole" makes you think of two things.




I'm right there with you on that one. However, in the state of Kentucky, or more specifically, the Eastern half, cornholing is a game of skill. And I can hear at least one of you saying "But Dex, cornholing does require skill! *snicker*" Yes, I'm well aware of the joke potential here. Bear with me a moment.

I first heard about this mysterious game a couple of years ago while driving around my hometown with my mother in the car. I saw a hand-painted sign advertising a cornhole tournament. Yes, a tournament. I'm cracking up and my mother asks why. I point at the sign, since I was laughing so hard that verbal communication was now lost to me.

This is when my mother proudly tells me, with a straight face, "Well, you happen to be looking at the Cornhole Champion of Montgomery County!"


Once I recovered from my head explosion, my mother explained to me that Cornhole is a game of skill involving small cloth bags filled with dried corn and planks of wood with holes in them. That's about as far as I got. I can only assume that this is some form of redneck skeeball. A quick skim of Google search results seem to imply that this is the case.

But I still just about lose my mind whenever I think of my mother proudly announcing her status as a champion cornholer.
dextra: (HIMYM - True Story)
I swear, if I ever write my autobiography, it'll end up in the scifi/fantasy section, or at the very least, general fiction, because no one will believe that half the shit that happens to me is real.

I went with Katy to go looking for a car on Friday. We pull in to the first place on our unwritten list, and we're greeted by a midget. I know he has a name. It was just a struggle for me not to turn into Guru Pitka from The Love Guru and start cracking jokes. I mean, he was a nice guy, for a car salesman. I filled out a credit application, and waitied. I hate that, because my credit is a joke. I was half expecting him to come back and tell me to leave before I tainted the other customers with my shitty credit.

I nearly lost it when he came back and said "How do you feel about a minivan?" I was so tempted, SO TEMPTED to bust out with a Mini-me joke. I stayed cool though, because I was trying to be focused on the task at hand, which was getting me a car.

We go look at the van. It's not bad, it's just older than I would have cared for, and kind of stained up. Getting the AC to work was a trick. That right there was a red flag. I took it for a drive, and it's not bad. I drove my Rusty Pearl (big old van) for a couple of years without a problem, so a minivan was no problem. But it just seemed like too much of a vehicle for me. Plus it was a 4 cylinder in a van that size...nah. Shit, my Jeep was a V-6, and sometimes it was pissy about steep hills.

So I passed on it, and unfortunately, with my shitty credit, that's all they really had for me. I may be able to get something with a better down payment though, so I'm just going to hang on to my money and see what next payday brings. Plus, there's other places to look, and Sonia, a lady at work, has a daughter with a car she's looking to sell cheap. If I can ever get to look at the thing, that is.

Also, my semi-drunken dyslexic judgement saved Katy $80. I was helping her replace the back door, when I looked at it and announced "They cut the grooves for the hinges the wrong way." When, in fact, they had not. So Katy calls Home Depot back and gives this guy a mouthful, and he offers her the money back. Justice appears to have been served.

Then, not five minutes later, Katy calls me back to the door and is laughing her ass off because the hinge grooves were cut the right way. My goofy ass just pictured the hinges going on in the other direction. Yay dyslexia! Well, I got her some money back on an overpriced chunk of house anyhow. We'll call it a win and just leave it at that. Even if I do feel like I need to be in a corner with a dunce's cap and a diaper, swinging a cat over my head.
dextra: (Bones - Good God Man)
I just got another call for an interview. This is beyond weird to me. I thought for sure this week would be a dead zone for this sort of thing. I'm not complaining, it's just very odd.

Anyway, this one is another call center, but it's for Stellar Restaurant Solutions. It's inbound order taking for restaurants. Sounds like cake work, really. They were wanting me to come in today, but I already have an interview scheduled for the time they want me to come in, but they just scheduled me for next week.

I have to tell you though, I'm sitting here laughing my ass off because of the information video they have on their website:

Hee. Balls. :D


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