Synopsis: Woke up by drunken argument taking place directly under window. Going to bed early and sober never seems to pay off on a Friday night here at Annfrankenstein HQ, as there are always drunken, drunk-fucks that will inevitably wake me up after the bars in the neighborhood close. This morning's one-act was courtesy of a dude named "Steve" and dude-friend "Jesse" as they were having a beer and jager bomb-fueled* argument over... wait for it ...wait for it ... Jesse's girl!
Apparently, Jesse's girl is a "big ho-skank" and how would I know? Because Steve kept yelling "Jesse! Your girlfriend is a big ho-shank!" to which Jesse replied, "shut the fuck up, Steve!" over. And over. Until I finally got out of bed to yell out the window, "LADIES! SHUT THE FUCK UP OR GO SOMEWHERE ELSE WITH YOUR CAT FIGHT" ** to which either Steve or Jesse replied, "shut the fuck up!" But they managed to move up the block a bit, so I was happy.
Incident Rating: F, annoying does not even cover it.
*Seriously people, can I go a week without somebody talking about this drink?
**Not to perpetuate any kind of gender haterizing in any direction, but I just know that's the kind of dumb shit those kind of guys would respond to. And, was I wrong? No.
Synopsis: Overslept. Meant to get up at 7:00. Not that I had any big plans, but I didn't want to waste another moment of the day with my Saturday day-wasting plans. And yes, I do blame Steve andJesse. But I gotta say, the morning after, I blame the ho-shank just a little bit more.
Incident Rating: C+, ho-shank gains amnesty after coffee. Promise.
Synopsis: Out of fucking coffee. Walked my forgetful ass to the store to buy a pound o' grounds, resisting the urge to stop in and buy a cup at the 101 coffee shops along the way because my broke-ass is on a money saving kick where we (meaning me and my broke-ass) no longer buy overpriced lame-ass cups of coffee and $9 "gourmet" salads we can make on our own at home thankyouverymuch.
Incident Rating: C-, Suck-ass self-imposed rules!
Synopsis: Coffee and news off the Internet! Hello, Saturday morning!
Incident Rating: A+, duh.
Synopsis: I love you, blacktable.com, and I know you warned me before I did it, but after hitting the link for the body modification web site featuring the people hanging from enourmous fish-hooks, I am sufficiently sick enough to quit the coffee for the day and I am no longer interested in $9 salads.
Incident Rating: B, Gnarly, but helpful I suppose.
Synopsis: Nice walk to the library to pick up my on-hold items and well, hello there cute library worker fella, nice to see you again. And umm, yeah, I do happen to be checking out Mein Kampf* and a MeanGirls DVD amongst other things in the same trip but look, you never know in what order this stuff'll pop up on the hold list, so let's just do our job here and while we're at it if you could just back away from my coffee breath? Thanks.
Incident Rating: B+, sufficiantly awkward.
* I cannot for the life of me remember why I put this on hold in the first place. For. Real.
Synopsis: At the YMCA pool, there is a lady trying to get me into her flippers. What I mean to say is, she cornered me in the deep end after she was finished swimming and perched herself close to me on the ladder to tell me that if I enjoyed swimming I was really going to enjoy swimming in flippers because you can really fly with flippers on and she had been watching me for weeks and thinks I would enjoy being able to swim faster. In flippers. So, here, she says, try 'em on! And so normally I am not really into trying on other people's footgear, but at this point I didn't know what to do (swim away? Fake a leg cramp, oh life-guard! It's not like I am a wilting-fucking-lily-pad, why do I chose such moments to be polite? What ever happened to, "no thank you?") so I try on the flippers (the chlorine kills stranger's flipper-germs, right? Right?) and umm, okay, now swim a lap! she says.
And I do.
And I am not saying I didn't swim any faster. I did. It's true. You fly through the water when you're sporting flippers. But honestly? I really would have felt a little more comfortable figuring this out on my own I think, instead of, you know, being accosted by a flipper-wearing swim-enthusiast, but we choose our battles.
Incident Rating: B-, all together a little too creepy for my taste, but you know, it was kind of fun kicking around like a super-sonic mermaid for a few seconds or so.
Synopsis: Ice water break.
Incident Rating: A+, for hydration!
Synopsis: Fall asleep reading Mein Kampf.
Incident Rating: Zzzz+, of course.
Synopsis: Wake up. Seriously, why was this book on my list again?
Incident Rating: A, unintentional Saturday naps rock!
Synopsis: phone call from crying and very sick best friend. Apparently, she has caught some bug. At my insistence, tonight's plans are cancelled because well, it's a long story but she works too much (she has like a million jobs and never gets any rest) and her grandfather's 85th birthday party to go to tomorrow. Now is not the time to hit the rock show sporting a 101 temperature and fevah chills.
Incident Rating: C, but what can you do?
Synopsis: I am on emergency medication stand-by, leaving me plenty of time to dick around with a diaryland entry. Oh, and I have a few beers in the fridge for later should Jesse or Steve and their ilk decide on an encore performance in a few hours. And I am not afraid to chuck the empties out the window at them or anyone else tonight! Oh, no I am not.
Incident Rating: B, is for beer and that is good enough for me.