A Good Egg

Did I tell you about my buddy who got a drunken tattoo from a drunken tattoo artist to impress a girl?
I have a buddy here, who worked for me a for a while, and he is truly a cool person. Super funny. Anyway, he went to Vegas a while back and ended up partying with a couple of people who work at a tattoo parlor in one of the casinos (don't ask me which, I don't remember). Anyway, they were drinking and drinking, and he is really liking the girl they are hanging with. She teases him about being a "bad egg", because my buddy tries to play like he is rough and bad, but he's really the sweetest. So, after hours of drinking, they decide he should get a tattoo...OF A GOOD EGG!!!


So, this is exactly why you don't get a tattoo when you are drinking. Because you then later have to explain why you have a cop potato on your shin, and explain to your new girlfriend you were simply trying to impress the girl that you found out later was like 17 and you couldn't even do anything with.
HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!
(And seriously, it probably wouldn't be cool to tell his new girlfriend that he got this to impress some girl that turned out to be too young for him. That might be awkward.)

To the Boredom!

I am stuck here at the office until a Fed Ex shows up. It is kiiillllling me. I hate this. My rule is that I try to work as few hours as possible...and I was planning on not coming back after lunch today. Then, our corporate, in a surprising act of generosity, decided we could leave the office at 2 today...which means I wanted to be leaving at 11. But this stupid Fed Ex!!!
It isn't even like I have plans. I have nothing to do. Cam is working, and I don't really have any friends, so that keeps me pretty bored. Nothing on tv, no place to go, and the weather is cloudy and bound to rain, so that knocks out a lot of amusement right there. I spent all my money yesterday, so crap. Nothing...to...do...brain...melting...with...boredom.
I want to blog about Mike the H.C., but the pictures are on Cam's computer at home. And I want to blog about a funny tattoo, but the e-mail on my phone won't work in my office. God help me, I am dying here.
Maybe I will go exchange some Wii games in, and waste a day like that. Or maybe I will bake some cookies for the friends I don't really have. Probably could try to come up with an interesting dinner, but gosh, I hate cooking. AACCKKK! It is not in my nature to be bored, I am a bustling and interesting person. This is agonizing. I know it won't be bad when I get out of the office. Despite my lack of plans, I will find a million things to do. But this...this waiting...ugh. It's awful.
I should probably contact a florist or baker or something.
WHAT THE HELL? WHERE IS THE FED EX? I swear, I will beat that man down with my umbrella.
Footsteps! Damn. Down the hallway. I'm going to go hunt the Fed Ex man down.
No. I'm going across the street to buy lotto tickets.

Sorry, been meaning to blog, but life gets busy and when it's pretty and you are spending all your free time trying not to be at work.

So, real quick, so that there is something here and I can alleviate the pressure of having to blog, although I have lots of things to blog about (but I need to have the appropriate pictures and whatever...).

I went to the movies a couple times in the last week, and I keep seeing the preview for the new Terminator. I watch Sean Conner shoot some robot in the head (with the stupid voice over going about the robots and blah blah blah), and I simply think that I really hope that I don't have to war with the robots. I'll deal with ninjas, I will combat the aliens, and I have a plan for the zombies. But if the apocalypse is somehow tied to robots, I'm in trouble. The way I see it is I can't even win the battle with the smoke detector. I pull that bad boy's batteries out and he's still winning. If I can't beat that simple device, then I am screwed in human-like robots start invading.

What to write....

(Not here, but to the kids...let me explain...)

So, I work with 16-24 year-olds, getting them into Job Corps, which is like a college/prison/high school. They all live in dorms (college), but a lot of them are young(young=drama=high school), and they don't get to leave (prison) while they work on their education and learn to do a trade. It's my job to convince people to do this (or in certain cases, convince them not to), do lots of paperwork, and then try to convince them to stay up there. I get paid bonuses (yes, the bonuses...like mentioned in the april fool's blog) based on getting kids to go and getting kids to stay. Most of the money is in making them stay.
I also have been designated as the staff who goes up to one of the centers to do these focus groups. I sit down for an hour with about 10 kids who went up to the center in the last two months and get their opinions on things. I got assigned this priviledged position because of my hard work, sparkling personality, and incredible good looks. (This is a lie. It is because I live within an hour of the closest center. The next closest person is 4 hours away.)
I love the focus groups. I think it's a blast. I chat with these kids that are hardly younger than me and give them loads of candy and we talk about everything. Some of the kids know me because I got them in, and some don't, but all of them are very comfortable with me. They tell me they love going on trips and working out and getting paid to go to school, but they hate the dress code and the drama and all the ways to get write-ups. And then they tell me that they like letters and they want more of them.
My boss demands we contact the students twice a month when they are on center for three months. This is their way of trying to make the students stay. So, I will write a postcard saying "You are doing great! Keep up the good work!" about 30 times twice a month, and maybe I will throw in a piece of candy. Last night the kids told me that want "real, handwritten letters." Crap. What do I write to 30 kids that I have only met for an hour or two? What do I talk about? Just ask them how life is? Tell them about my life? Holy Hannah! This is going to take forever!
I love the kids, so of course I will oblige. I seriously have no idea though. Do I write about ketchup cakes and tell stupid jokes and fill up the page and time that way? Or do I really write something? Double crap!........Well, hm. Better get to writing and staring at the wall.

Immigration

So, about that last post...well, it was really just a game to keep me distracted. Lots of ugly things going around these days. Like the 3 people I know who have breast cancer. Or all the people I know who were laid off. Or my buddy who lost his legs back in January, but they didn't do it right the first time, so he just lost another inch off of his legs. I am surrounded by people who are sick, people who are unemployed, people who are about to be unemployed, people who can't pay their bills and are wondering where they will go, and kids who are going through really awful things and are trying to get a new start. Between Job Corps and Halliburton I am surrounded in sadness and suffering, and that doesn't even begin to start with family or friends.
So, I needed a humorous distraction. (And sorry, Brklln, but let's face it. I'm married. I totally have sex.)
Anyway, the bad things happening are trying to creep into my house. Cam's name has been coming up in the new lists of lay-offs. They have already gotten rid of the lazy and obnoxious, and they are running out of people. They are now going to staff number, and since he got a new staff number when he came to the States, well, he is in some risk.
I'm not the kind of person who sits and hopes that works out. I do something. He only has a work visa that will allow him to work at Halliburton, and that needs to be adjusted. Otherwise, I'm stuck moving to Canada. I hate the cold.
I spent some time on the phone with the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS), and wow. That's intense. I thought I chose English for the language, not Lawyer.
I then finally get to talk to someone. Someone who is legally obliged to ramble for 2 minutes completely in legal disclaimers before she can tell me I need the I485. And that it cost something like $353. She also stated that I MAY need T3258A-2 copies, I864, I693, I130, I765, I131, a copy of a passport, a social security card, and a medical exam. I don't know what MAY means. I may be the kind of person who names my dog Maebe, but I need some certainty in life. I don't want to ever hear that I MAY live. (Or that I am going to live. Sorta.*) Oh, and some of those forms cost money, but I couldn't figure out which, because I was pretty sure I got all dyslexic and wrote some of the numbers out of order. So I may not need those forms, I may need completely different ones. I'm in trouble.
So, now I am trying to contact immigration lawyers, because it may be worth the money for a translator.
I guess the point is, Canadians are about the most quality men you can marry. But God help you through the paperwork. Might as well marry a Vulcan.**



*Totally stole that joke from Demetri Martin. Good stuff.
**Sorry, the Star Trek reference is whole different story...

Let's Go A-Maying (Let's go do it in the woods!)

It's May Day, which still only means one thing...it is the pagan time to celebrate Spring. And of course, I am no pagan, but I can appreciate lots of things...like sex. Yeah. So, in honor of Spring, pagans and May Day, let me present the 1891 Robert Herrick poem about May Day, with special translation...

GET up, get up for shame (know what else gets up in the morning? erections), the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn (as in not sheared...and where could the god be all hairy and not trimmed...maybe the pubic area...yeah, old poetry is gross).
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air : (she is totally stripping)
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree. (the dude is trying to get his girl out of the bed and outside for some kinky may day lovin')
Each flower has wept (think discharge) and bow'd toward the east (bow'd like going down...)
Above an hour since : yet you not dress'd ; (naked)
Nay ! not so much as out of bed? (but in bed, out of bed...who cares, let's get it on....)
When all the birds have matins said
And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin,
Nay, profanation to keep in, (you also have to come out...)
Whereas a thousand virgins on this day (virgins...giggity-giggity)
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.

Rise (Rise, erection, rise!) and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come (cum) forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gown or hair :
Fear not ; the leaves will strew
Gems in abundance upon you : (don't dress up, cause we are just going to get naked and roll around in the grass and moss)
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come (cum), some orient pearls unwept (we all know what a pearl necklace is...this dude's dirty) ;
Come (cum) and receive them (receive the "pearls") while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night :
And Titan on the eastern hill
Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come (cum)forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying :
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying. (have sex in the woods)

Come, my Corinna, come ; and, coming, mark (cum...cum...cuming)
How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green and trimm'd with trees : see how
Devotion gives each house a bough
Or branch : each porch, each door ere this
An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove ;
(getting distracted...so much coming earlier...you will have to trust me that it translates to gigggity-giggity)
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street
And open fields and we not see't ?
(doing it somewhere exiting is hot, but the street isn't sexy and likely to get you arrested...the meadows are safer and still scandalously sexy)
Come (cum) , we'll abroad ; and let's obey
The proclamation made for May : (do it)
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ;
But, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying. (we are insulting May and Spring by staying inside, we need to celebrate and welcome Spring...by doing it)

There's not a budding boy or girl this day
But is got up (did I mention erections?) , and gone to bring in May.
A deal of youth, ere this, is come (yeah, young people cum)
Back, and with white-thorn laden home.
Some have despatch'd their cakes and cream (the lesser known hip hop song from the 1890's...you know the one...
cake and cream,
I need it cause you know that I'm a fiend,
Gettin' freaky in my carriage limousine
It's even better when it's with ice cream
Know what I mean...)
Before that we have left to dream :
And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth : (yeah, some miserable people aren't going to get freaky in the woods today)
Many a green-gown has been given ;
Many a kiss, both odd and even : (yup, lot's of making out)
Many a glance too has been sent (and checking each other out)
From out the eye, love's firmament ;
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick'd (locks pick'd...remember in Ghostbusters the sexual innuendos of key-master and gate-keeper, yeah it's that same idea), yet we're not a-Maying. ( (Let's get it onnnn.....!)

Come, let us go while we are in our prime ; (you are not getting any younger)
And take the harmless folly of the time. (sex is so not the worst thing you can do...)
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun ; (you are not going to live forever, better have sex in the woods while you are young and still can. you are going to die, and who wants to die a virgin...let's do it!)
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drowned with us in endless night. (giggity-giggity)
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come (cum) , my Corinna, come (did I get around to mentioning every reference to come is a reference to the sexual act of orgasm? it is.) , let's go a-Maying (DO IT IN THE WOODS!).


Now, don't you feel educated and a little aroused. Sorry, my hubby is still at work, and momma needs her sugar.