loopy's Journal

In a particular group of four friends, lets call them Mr Purple, Mr Red, Mrs Pink and Mrs Spot suggested and someone, usually Mr Red, although sometimes Mr Blue now too, will exclaim: "and what could possibly go wrong?" I think I mayhavejust dreamed up a way to answer that question. The trick is to think of what could go wrong if they were all normal intelligent human beings, and then put in, say, the Mr Purple factor.


Now, the Mr Purple factor is the addition of blue LEDs, slight computer geekiness and a bit of the dodgey-old-man. There is also much fun to be had when he drives his car around roundabouts...
The Mr Red factor also includes some of the computer geekiness, but towards linux mostley. One of his other notorious factors is the not-being-on-time factor, although, admittedly, this seems to have rubbed off a bit onto the others in the group.
Mrs Pink adds the pink factor -the vodka rasberry factor, really- and a generally mathsey vibe to every situation she enters. Despite this 'apparent' geekiness, she does not gell with computers as well as expected, and so offsets some of the computer geekiness of the Men. She is the wearer of the shoes and therefore has the authority to judge someone on the pair of shoes they are wearing.
Mrs Spot, however, is the wearer, and chooser, of the earrings. She is also the ability to lose something within 3 minutes of putting it down, to continually have something a bit wrong with her laptop (there is something stuck under the spacebar at the moment making typing difficult), something about Mooseheads and she has the strongest 'spotto' factor of anyone.

These factors intereact to make a plan that might go wrong a bit, or be a bit dodgey, even more so. With all their powers combined, it not hard to imagine someone wearing massively high platforms that flash blue LEDs on the soles, while the they spill vodka rasberry down their white shirt, waiting for someone who might possibly fix Mrs Spot's computer who is currently running 45 minutes late...

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Ok.. so I've been meaning to rant about work and customers for quite a while, but never seemed to get around to it. There were a whole list of new types of customers that I don't like (such as the ones that stuff all their servietts into the glass cups that I then have to fish out so I can wash them out)as well as bogans of the day (general lack of teeth, too much facial hair and stupid requests to do with chopping off every single little microscopic piece of the green bits of the cucumber on a pissy little sandwich...)

So anyway.. these things weren't enough to shift me to rant... but this did... Some dude talking to me. Now that in itself isn't always bad, say if I was bored and they were entertaining, but I was in the library, READING A BOOK. Who the hell TALKS to ANYONE that is reading a book. Lordy, he wasn't even trying to talk about the book, it was blatant:
Him "do you mind if I talk to you for a while?"
Me "meh" continues reading
Him "something boring"
Me "mmmm"
Him "How old are you?"
Me "ummm 19"
Him "bla bla 24 bla"
Me "mmm, yeah"
Him "bla pretty bla bla bla come here often bla bla"
Me "sometimes"
Him "bla bla boyfriend?"
I suddenly realise I have to take some evasive action, rather than just reading and ignoring it until it goes away
Me "yeah, He's supposed to come and pick me up soon, once he's finished at the gym"
Him "bla bla have to go soon bla"
Me "kinda"
Him "bla bla it was nice talking to you"
Me "Yeah you too"
Him "I hope I can see you again. Bye"


Dear God. I was trying to figure out something and how to cook that something to eat for dinner. I didn't need conversation. I didn't need his number. I didn't need his 'pleasant' company for the afternoon. How do you not take a hint? I was READING A BOOK. I DON'T LIKE BEING CHATTED TO/UP WHEN I'M READING A BOOK.




Ps: McDonalds now have a freaky, wrong and annoying ad where kids crawl out of peoples' bellys and go to McDonalds as though it was all new or something.

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For anyone that doesn't know of my computer record, the last time I broke this computer it just wouldn't get out of sleep mode. The techies in at the shop said the ram was apparantly missing, which is hard to believe since I don't think anyone was opening up the guts. And a whole lot of files were corrupted.

Well I've stuck again... apparently it is possible to half disconnect a mouse from a computer. As in the mouse and most of the mouse's cord it disconnected, but there's still a bit left in the sockeet. It doesn't look easily reparable. It's not good. It's a pain in the arse. I don't know how I'm going to break the news to my dad again. Perhaps deception is the best option, I'll buy another mouse to replace it. Although I still have to pry the bit stuck in the socket out of it...

It's not fair. I don't thiink of myself as a techno-gumby. It's only been this particular computer that does bad things when I look at it. Seriously. I know a lot of people that don't belive me, but it's true... I swear.

So now I'm sitting here on the floor, smelling like chlorine, wondering what the best course of action is... Bah.

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YAY!!! The yellow shirts at work are no more! We can all rejoice and sing praises unto the heavens. Thank ye O mighty one that deemed we would no longer have to wear bananaised-canary shirts. They are [color=blue]blue[/color] and the back doesn't even think about asking wether or not you'd like a coffee...
And even more novel is that it fits. Impressive. It doesn't fall off the shoulders and comes in actual sizes, you know 10, 12, 14 etc. as opposed to S M and L. And now weekday staff have to wear all the same shirts (uniform uniforms so to speak) I'm no longer the freak in the yellow shirt while 'they' wear nicer navy blue or black shirts. Yippee!!

I'm a little bit happy about it. As happy as I can be about work anyway...
My manager is cool, but he's worked for over 20 days straight (weekends included) because his freaking girlfriend is out of the country. He is tired, grumpy and pathetic. Lordy. Take some time off, for crying out loud. And we suffer for it. ARGHHHH. why do we have to suffer when your bloody girlfriend is away. Get a life.

Bah. A least I'm not suffering in yellow now.

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