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Ginormous mugs

twitter

Jan. 17th, 2009 10:09 am
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now on twitter.

username: talkendo

That is all
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One fixed pocket. not too neat but it should hold


Pocket repair

Woops

Jan. 12th, 2009 12:27 pm
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Huh.  Somehow I over-wrote the Utah AG post.  I'll have to remember how I did that, so I can not ever do that again.
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[livejournal.com profile] prompt_a_day #410


I can't hear anything.  The silence in this walled room is deafening.  My thoughts ring through my head, filling the empty space with an awful buzz.

Then, low, almost too low to hear, there's a tapping.  Slow, not monotonous, just variable enough to annoy.  I can see you on the other side of the glass, smiling that seductive, evil little smile.  I know what you're doing; you're trying to get inside my head, the same way you've been trying ever since you got me in this little glass jar.  But it won't happen, I won't let you. The words, the secrets, the tiny little joys are mine and mine alone to keep.

Then the lights go out, and I lose even the joy of seeing your face.  Sadist.  It's only my love for you that allowed you to trap me; it's only my love for you that won't let you steal what I am from me.

I will keep myself to myself, for if I lose myself, you lose me.  You know this, yet you keep pushing.  Why do you torment me?  Why this never-ending struggle to strip myself from me?

The ticking stops.  Silence.  Darkness.  Loneliness.  Fear. Despair.  There are two ways out: Submit or Die.

Death, come for me.  But come gently, as my love will not.
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this is not the prompt response I had started out to write.  somewhere along the way,  the plan I'd had for this little story changed.

[livejournal.com profile] prompt_a_day #409: Kicked Out


...and not a moment too soon," the keep remarked as finished ineffectually wiping the grime from a glass. "That feller, every year, this very same day he comes in and does the same thing: drink a bellyful and ends up near starting a riot. Any other time he's here, no problem, coupla drinks, pays prompt, tips well and Bob's your uncle.

"But THIS time he's gone too far."

"Hows that?" says I.

"This time, he's messed with the fella what wants to buy this bar," the keep replied, nodding to a smallish, sharp gent with a rapidly blackening eye.

"I see. So, buying a bar here isn't as easy as walking in and waving a credstik around?"

"No, in theory, it should be that easy. Only this gent is as like to close and raze the place as he is to keep it a bar. And the owner, Jack, that is, no Jack feels he has an obligation to keep us cripples employed. He won't sell to one as he feels won't keep the bar open."

And with that, he limped back down the bar, leaving me to stare vacantly into my drink and ponder my options. I'd left home to make a fortune, and was no closer than I had been a decade before. I still don't know WHY that fella keeps getting himself thrown out of this place.

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Ugh.  I so don't want to start another project.
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[livejournal.com profile] prompt_a_day   #408

What he didn't know would come back to haunt him.  Oh, life is grand when you don't know your multiplication tables.  Or so you'd think, anyway.  But one day, you find yourself in the store needing to know how much forty-two apples cost at 7 cents each* and you can either do a LOT of addition or, well, suffer.

But I digress.  As I was saying, the fact that he was completely unaware that there was a surprise party planned for him would be his undoing.  Well, not his undoing, really, but certainly quite a shock.  Enough to make everybody concerned for his welfare when he went all pasty-grey and weak-kneed.  And then when he clutched his chest and leaned against the doorjamb?  Well, I think  everyone knew at that point it was probably a bad idea to hold a surprise party for an 85-year-old.

I'm sorry, Harry.  If I'd known we'd scare you literally to death, I wouldn't have arranged such a shock.  I mean, it's not like you left me anything in your will, now did you?, you penny-pinching old coot.  Damn your eyes, Harry Mitchell, damn your eyes.


*$2.94 plus tax title and license.  Offer not valid in CT, TX, AZ or VT.  Other restrictions may apply

Cold

Jan. 5th, 2009 01:00 pm
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My hands are cold.  Again.  Still.

I never notice how cold they are until they get warm.  Holding a mug of coffee, washing my hands under warm water.  But the warmth is only transitory; bare instants pass until the heat is gone and they're cold again.

Kate doesn't like it; I'm pretty sure Simon doesn't either.  It's nothing new, I've gotten used to it. 

But it really IS annoying.
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To The Manager, Szechwan Beijing Chinese Restaurant, Oak Park IL.


December 12, 2008


Dear Sir or Madam,
    
    Thank you for nearly four years of prompt service and good food.  My wife and I have had our stomachs filled, our hunger sated and our hearts warmed by many meals both in your establishment and delivered to our apartment.  However, I do not think we will be back.

    This evening, December 12, 2008 at 5:20 pm I ordered two bowls of egg drop soup, a small order of Sweet and Sour Shrimp and a Large order of Barbeque Pork Fried Rice.  I was advised that delivery times were running nearly an hour.  That sounded about right for a Friday night.  Sure enough, an hour later I signed a receipt for a package of food and settled in to eat.  After finishing my soup, I opened the container I presumed contained my fried rice.  Unfortunately, it contained an order of potstickers.

    I immediately called the restaurant back in an attempt to have my missing meal replaced.   After waiting on hold for upwards of 5 minutes, I explained the situation.  The only remedy offered me was a credit on my purchase.  After much discussion, I made it clear that I still wanted my fried rice, in as expeditious a fashion possible.  Apparently, there was no way this could be done, so I settled in to wait ANOTHER hour for my fried rice.  It is now 9:15, some 2 1/2 hours after my food was delivered and nearly 4 hours since I placed my order.  I do not have my fried rice and do not expect I ever shall.

    If this is the manner in which mistakes are rectified, it is clear my custom is clearly no longer valued by your staff.  If this is so, I am greatly disappointed.  For four years, I have received nothing less than good food and great, prompt service.  I don't mind mistakes, they happen often.  But this minor incident has been so poorly handled, it has tarnished the esteem in which I had once held your establishment.




Sincerely,






Ian S Carr


Oh, and yes, this letter is being mailed to the restaurant.
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Apparently, AT&T is "revising" it's internet service, so as of February, my Flickr Pro free upgrade expires.

I knew this would happen someday, I was just hoping to wait a while...

Grr.
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From the Old News Department....

For those of you who need a quick fix.

Sadly, the Dead Parrot doesn't seem to be up yet.
talkendo: (wuh oh)
....is having every retard ask you for anything they don't understand.
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Copy this sentence into your LiveJournal if you're in a heterosexual marriage, and you don't want it "protected" by the bigots who think that gay marriage hurts it somehow.
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as shamelessly stolen from justphoenix

When you see this, post your favorite quote from The Princess Bride (preferably not "As you wish" or the Inigo Montoya speech).

"You ARE the Brute Squad!"
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Pictures of Simon Dashiell can be found here

Or for you more slideshow-y types:

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Long couple of days.

Mom and baby resting well. Should come home Saturday afternoon.
Dad coping well. At home now, going to sleep soon.

Non-baby related news:
Wii non-functional. No power, no power light. Rented game now late. Suggestions, advice? Anybody even HEARD of the problem? (too tired to hunt the intarwebs).

UPDATE 10-4-08 22:45: WII lives. This says to reset the power box. Worked. Huzzah!

Sleeeeeeeepppppp
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kateandsimon, originally uploaded by talkendo.

Baby's first picture.

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