Sticky Beak
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The Skinny
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...life in small Northern towns, working for assholes, boys who refuse to become men, synthetic personalities, anorexic models and their link to emotional scarring, bad marijuana trips, crazies on BC Transit, beer, piece of shit cars, living out of a suitcase paycheck to paycheck, unrequited love, Seinfeld, minimum-wage jobs, broken New Year�s resolutions, and over-limit Visa accounts.
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"...hey, hey, I wanna be a Rock Star..." Well, fuck. Ever had one of those days where you feel like Bill the Cat with a caption hovering above your head the entire day that reads "Thhhhbbbbbbbbbbb...."? Well, I do, and today's one of those days. Not for any particular reason...(in particular)... It's just how I feel today. I'm sitting in a pretty shmeck hotel room in Vernon right now; got here about 20 minutes ago... two big ol' beautiful pillow-top beds, and only me to roll around in/on them. Tres sad. Here for work - getting some training in contracts over the next couple days. Yup. Just another chapter in the rock and roll story that is my life. Downstairs at check-in, the receptionist tried telling me that I was going to have to produce a credit card for damage deposit, despite the authorization form that my boss sent over to cover room charges becaaaaauuusse she didn't check off one little box that said "Room and Damage Deposit". I could feel the veins in my forehead expanding and my skin developing a slightly greenish hue, and she must have sensed it as well because the girl quietly pushed the pen toward me and indicated for me to check off the required box. Lucky. I was about to go postal on her third-trimester ass. I wonder if Nelson holds an Anger Management class... I should look into that. More and more I can feel the insanity creeping in and slowly choking off the lifeblood to the handful of sane cells I have left battling at the frontlines of my mind... Brain pills aren't an option any more, I need to cleanse the ol' system, just in case hubby and I abandon all reason and delve into the black abyss of parenthood. Wow. That might come across a bit negative to you breeders out there. It's not that I don't like your child[ren], it's just that, well... , no. Who am I kidding? Your kid's probably a brat. In truth, I think most people feel that ALL kids out there are brats, except - of course - their own, who are obviously blessed with advanced little-man-tate intelligence, unparalelled cuteness, and an angelic - yet charismatic - presence. So, no. No is the answer. I AM NOT PREGNANT. I'm going to start charging people $5 a pop for even asking.
Some good news, we have water again. Or, at least we had water when I left this morning. Temperatures are dropping a little, so we may be back to crusty a-holes again shortly. In the meantime... hallelujah. Who knew running water was such a luxury??? I mean, aside from 2/3's of the world's population? Awesome. I'm in room 502, which would suggest that there are a SHITLOAD of rooms in this hotel. And there are only a handful of cars in the parking lot which, to me, suggests that there are probably a vast majority of rooms vacant. And yet, here I am, in room 502, RIGHT NEXT TO THE GODDAMNED TRAIN TRACKS. Complete with the full-volume horn and shaking that registers at approximately four on the Richter Scale. Excellent. I'm so happy. |