Thursday, June 16, 2011

How the Mighty Are Pissant

Warning: complaint time ahead.

It's been a crappy week. I was already starting to feel cruddy Monday evening after two separate verbal assaults by crazy homeless guys in the same day, and "woke up" Tuesday morning not really having slept and with the beginning of a bug.

A bug that has lingered now for three days. I'm actually starting to get bored with being trapped in my apartment, but don't really have the energy to do much more than warm up leftovers (thank heavens for Sunday cooking) and wave a Wii-mote to put on the next thing in my Netflix queue.

I've found evidence that I'm still living with a furry little roommate, despite the exterminator the landlord had over back in April to look at the place (I guess he didn't actually exterminate anything, alas). And after getting woken up by the building manager clearing weeds off my patio area, I get an email telling me that my front herb garden experiment stinks, looks messy, and needs to be cleared away because it's interfering with the weeding.

I'm starting to think this city doesn't want me any more. Well, fuck you, SF. The feeling's mutual.

In other-people-suck news: Yeah, I watched some of the Boston-Vancouver Stanley Cup Final last night. Like, the final two periods. And to be honest, I wanted Boston to win, so I'm pleased enough with the outcome. I do want to note that Vancouver, in the last 24 hours, has most definitely proved that Bostonians deserved this win far more than they did. I mean, seriously, have you seen the pictures? Is it me, or do all the Vancouver rioters look like a bunch of over-privileged douche-bag frat boys, rather than suffering fans? Get over yourselves, you look like (worse than) Americans.

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