Nerd Alert
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Sunday, January 05, 2003
I think I'm addicted to my tracker thing. It is just this endless source of amusement for me. For example, I think the IQ of the average House of Debauchery and Bee-yotchingite is about the same as the temperature of a tepid bowl of oatmeal. The most popular search is "www.worldclock.com". Those trying to find International times can look here. But really, how dumb are these people? Don't they know you are meant to put the URL in that line thingy up the top, and not into a search engine? Or are they looking for documents which mention worldclock.com. In which case, I hope they are sated by my tale about me getting an SMS on my birthday.
Meanwhile, today was the best kind of Sunday. It's raining, so I don't feel guilty about not doing anything; I can just sit here and do the things you are MEANT to do on a Sunday. Things like reading, napping, watching my ass expand as I eat copious amounts of corn chips, and fantasising about bed-slammin' a hunktacular babe took priority. Normal Sunday behaviour. Of course, my hunktacular reverie was shattered by my ass-y parents. Uh, shouldn't you be out saving LIVES? Anyway, we have this drive from our place to the street, and along it grows this bushy hedge thing. So of course Mum bee-yotches in true Dawei measure that I have to get off said rapidly expanding ass and go trim it. UGH! There are thorns in there! And wildlife with creepy yellow eyes! Luckily though, as I complete about one hundredth of the mammoth task, my parents start bitching at each other in the manner of Teri and Ian from The Amazing Race! Mum snatches the keys, loads the dog into the back, and blitzes off to "walk him", almost crushing Dad's toes. Dad himself snits off in my car (hmm, still not impressed with that one) to go see his mother. Hurrah! I am saved! I promptly strip off and go for a quick skinny-dip in the pool. Aaaah, Gotta love Sundays in suburbia. |
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