Nearly 3 full months of hiatus. Workless days at work certainly did me in, at least enough for me to start typing random musings (some of which, will be not-so-random) at work hour.
My life isn't interesting enough for me to write about, especially on the net. No one gives a damn anyway. Those who does give a damn probably knows what I have been up to, and those who gives less damns would just settle if they know I'm doing alright.
Yet, I do need to whine, incessantly. For instance, day yesterday was awful. Minus having nothing to do and browsing the web the whole day (SURE, why the thought of being paid for doing nothing sounds awesome some may think), I went home with a crappy stomach who decide it was a good day to give me shit (no pun intended, but literally that's how it kinda ended up; two trips to and fro, whalla, happy stomach, painful shit hole). Then, my external harddisk, my sweet... sweet external harddisk took a crap so huge, it decides to commit suicide. I'm still not done with the resuscitation process yet tho. Apart from my save game datas (READ: NEVERFUCKINGWINTER NIGHTS OMFG and etc, etc), I am bracing myself for the impact of the loss of my not so huge collection but nevertheless wonderful and awesome mp3 files. The degree of reliability that technology provides is baffling at times.
Why, when I get something new, I'm amazed. Astonished at the wonderful reanimation of what the 3D tech today is capable of. Yet, when they decide to prematurely retire (They get to retire when my wallet can afford their replacements), these costly mthrfkrs just go to hell like that. *Puff*, gone with the wind, or dust. Not this time, I'm literally going to go to hell and drag their sorry asses back, er... referring to my hdd, make it vomit all my files back THEN they get to retire. I'd hammer the cover open (can't find those stupid screwdrivers they use for the screws), piss on the discs, breka them apart and toss it into a burning pyre.
So, now my boss ain't around, great. No sarcasm there, it is actually great to work in a stress free surrounding once in a while (Read: A LONG LONG WHILE).
Now I have a few agreements to run through, and of course, come up with a scheme to deter those ladies from other departments from being such (please insert derogatory remarks here). I have always been wanting to come up with something like that, but too lazy to and always not bothered to when the moment (when they piss me off) passes. Most of the time, I just dislike them, but when it does boil down to it, when they drag their hairy asses over, I wish their face would get hit by a cement truck. No, didn't mean for them to die, just the pain... oh the pain...
At any rate, stomach is acting up again. Roadside mamaks can kiss my ass until my tummy builds up an impenetrable, solid, impervous defense against any type of onslaught that would lead to ... unfavourable and unwanted effort to maintain and manage excess body waste... It still feels like pandemonium in there, I think Genesis is happening in there, er... whatever the event is where the Angels battles in heaven and God finally casts whoever down to hell. Right now, it is hell.
Argh.
