(no subject)
Nov. 7th, 2005 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
froodleI really want this poster of Bondage!Clark they have in Virgin, but the part of me that still clings to the tattered shreds of my dignity insists that I can't lower myself to being the kind of person who has pictures of Tom Welling on her wall. For a start, I'm not bald or a billionairre... Damn you, tiny fragments of Froodlish pride.
In other news, a very annoying weekend at work. Got no studying done, as was forced to train a new starter, and am also faced with either having to take on extra hours to comply with stupid new policy that all employees must work a minimum of 20 hours per week, or getting fired, end up with no money and be forced to sell one of my kidneys in order to pay my bills. Situation not helped by the fact that Idiothairdresser appears to have been exposed to some kind of cosmic ray of Superannoyingness, turning her into a vast glowing cloud of pure rage-inducing stupidity that knaws on the paper-thin margin seperating civilized people from cannibalistic space rapists and talkshow hosts. Eventually either my spleen will burst from bile or my sanity and I will finally and permanently part ways when I leap over the desk with a cry of "Stop having shouted conversations across the office while I'm on the phone, you fucking stupid bint!", gouge out her eyes with my fingers and devour them before my horrified coworkers.
In other news, a very annoying weekend at work. Got no studying done, as was forced to train a new starter, and am also faced with either having to take on extra hours to comply with stupid new policy that all employees must work a minimum of 20 hours per week, or getting fired, end up with no money and be forced to sell one of my kidneys in order to pay my bills. Situation not helped by the fact that Idiothairdresser appears to have been exposed to some kind of cosmic ray of Superannoyingness, turning her into a vast glowing cloud of pure rage-inducing stupidity that knaws on the paper-thin margin seperating civilized people from cannibalistic space rapists and talkshow hosts. Eventually either my spleen will burst from bile or my sanity and I will finally and permanently part ways when I leap over the desk with a cry of "Stop having shouted conversations across the office while I'm on the phone, you fucking stupid bint!", gouge out her eyes with my fingers and devour them before my horrified coworkers.
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Date: 2005-11-10 04:35 pm (UTC)...but full of pretty, right. they wouldnt make us go without the pretty.
also. please change your icon, there's something very wrong with having to stare at the basdtard lovechild of Rimmer and Davie Dickenson.
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Date: 2005-11-10 09:15 pm (UTC)And I don't know who Davie Dickenson is, but your description makes Mal angry. Now the entire crew has to cling to some heavy immovable object to keep from being sucked up the nostrils of DOOM.
Except Wash, because he's a ghost and his ghosthands cannot touch things.no subject
Date: 2005-11-10 09:37 pm (UTC)LA LA LA LA LA LA LA L A LA LA
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Date: 2005-11-10 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-10 09:51 pm (UTC)...
*decides to use your own attack on you*
hey did you know wash dies.
HE'S DEAD AND HE DIES
PHALLICALLY
DEAD!
no subject
Date: 2005-11-10 10:13 pm (UTC)Jayne: In the hearts and minds of us all?
No. In space. Gathering power! And by "power" I mean "plastic dinosaurs".
Simon: Yay!