12.28.2007, 06:11 AM | #41 |
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My dad gave me some money for Christmas so I went to the store yesterday and got me this:
I am very happy for this little thingy. I might be getting old.
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12.28.2007, 08:53 AM | #42 |
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Christmas was remorselessly ok.
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12.28.2007, 12:29 PM | #43 |
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Christmas was remorsefully ok.
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12.28.2007, 12:43 PM | #44 |
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i don't do christmas, i did hanuka.
for new year, i'm going to my friend's family dinner party, but she promised me we'd get wasted, so who knows. i don't usually do new year either. |
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12.28.2007, 05:29 PM | #45 |
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Mine was nice, for the most part. Snow fell Christmas eve through Christmas day at mom-in-law's house, gifts were given and received, my favorite niece is as cute as a button.
Things took a bad turn around 11 pm when my daughter took off to see some friends, drove over something in the snow-covered streets, and got a flat tire. Roadside Assistance that night and through the next day were a bunch of incompetent idiots. My daughter found shelter with friends near the accident overnight, but next day I met my daughter at the care only to find that roadside assistance-sent rescuers replaced the blown tire with a flat spare and the instructions to fill it up at a gas station as soon as possible. I accompany my daughter (I'm following in another vehicle) to a station where the tire cannot be inflated. Another call to roadside assistance from the gas station lot--we're told to go purchase a tire and they'll send someone to put it on. I find the store they refer me to, which turns out to be nothing but a tiny shack filled with used tires, overseen by a shady-looking old guy who assures me the Jeep tire for 45 bucks will fit our jeep. "Laredo, you said, right?" he asks. "Uh,no, I said Grand Cherokee." "Oh, they're all the same." Take the tire back to the gas station, wait two hours for the repairman, who quickly ascertains that I have a 15 not a 16 and this means the tire won't fit our disabled Grand Cherokee. It's 8 at night and the tire store is closed, and I'm out 45 bucks, and we're no closer to fixing this mess than we were when I first met my daughter at the car 6 hours earlier. Another call to roadside assistance, "Tow us the fuck out of here and get us to a real tire store!," we say. Ultimately, this ends up costing me another 500 bucks, because of course the store can't replace just one tire because that would screw up the car's transfer case and traction and all that. Bullshit, I think, but I'm so exhausted by now I just give in. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, mom-in-law and guests have called roto-rooter to handle a sewer system which has chosen this day to back up due to tree roots clogging the system. Half the basement is flooded. So there you have it. Merry freaking Christmas.
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12.28.2007, 05:36 PM | #46 |
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holy fuck
i guess you're done with bad luck for the year. it's all easy from here. |
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12.28.2007, 05:36 PM | #47 |
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In case you're worried, I did get my 45 bucks back. In a bit of luck in an otherwise unlucky 48 hours, I happened to stop by the tire shack for the two minutes the owner happened to be in. This during a huge snowstorm which is making traffic horrible. Guy tells me he was about to leave, but recognizes me from the night before, looks horribly pained when I tell him I've brought the tire back for a refund because he gave me the wrong tire.
"Ah, Gary! You messed me up, man! You needed 16s! You told me 15s!" Fucking liar. "Ha, ha, yeah, well, you assured me, Doug.... Anyway, you'll understand when I ask for my money back." Pulls out wallet. "Damn, I knew it was too good to be true. I'm so broke, man. I was just on the horn telling the old lady how I'd stayed open late to help you guys out and everything." Yeah, yeah, asshole, give me my money. He slowly, and I mean slowly, counts out my refund in ones, fives, a ten, another ten, and so on, clings to the last five and does this fake crying bit like I'm supposed to tip him for giving me the wrong fucking tire. Asshole.
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12.28.2007, 05:44 PM | #48 |
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mine was great
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12.28.2007, 05:46 PM | #49 |
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As a redeeming moment, coming home that first night, after we'd left the car to be towed, my wife's not even pissed I blew 45 bucks on a wrong tire. She, her sister, and my mom-in-law are getting silly over rum-and-Cokes. Roto-rooter has nicely cleaned things up, and I can finally take a dump and a shower, and I quickly rejoin the party in the kitchen where we kill of a bottle of rum and move on to Irish whiskey.
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Ever notice how this place just basically, well, sucks. |
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12.28.2007, 05:49 PM | #50 | |
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Quote:
I'm so happy for you. How nice. Your time will come. You'll have offspring one day, and one day, it might not happen for 18 years of more, but one day one or more of your offspring will do something that leads to an incrementally worsening fuckedup situation to spoil the holiday for you, and you too will find yourself seeking comfort inside a rum bottle.
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Ever notice how this place just basically, well, sucks. |
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12.30.2007, 05:35 AM | #51 |
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My Christmas? Not great. I've spent most of it in bed with a throat infection. I cooked Christmas lunch for my girlfriend's family on Christmas Day, and went to see my family the next day, and the rest of the time since then I've spent in bed, apart from getting up a couple of times to go to the chemists.
I got some good presents though - Boredoms' "Vision Creation Newsun" CD, a biography of Johnny Cash, the Labels Unlimited book about Rough Trade, a gadget so that I can make digital copies of my vinyl and tapes, clothes. chocolate, and: ^ for those that can't see it properly, that's the cheese-lover's equivalent of a Cadbury's selection box |
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