Anyway, so. Had a nice, vent-y conversation with Neogrammarian last night, and am now even more in her debt. Although this is partially balanced by the fact that, thanks to her, I can never think of Happy Fluffy Bunnies again.
Don't ask. Just. . . don't. You do not want this in your head. Lord knows I don't.
But I shall have my revenge. Oh yes.
Or rather, arrrr.
Walking into work this morning, one of the security guards pulled me over. While I was racking my brains trying to figure out a) what I did and b) what a good alibi would be, she told me that someone who works in the building had asked her to ask me if I was married.
"Um, no. . ." I replied, too relieved to give the matter much thought, and made a hasty retreat.
Coming in from lunch, she pulled me aside again and asked me, on behalf of whoever the hell this is, if I was seeing anyone or otherwise in a serious relationship.
"Um, no. . ." I replied, wondering what the fuck kind of Degrassi Jr. High hell I'd found myself in.
Or maybe it's Parker Lewis Can't Lose. . .
np: Corporate Slave, Snog, from Neo's mix cd.
Update: Also worth a look, The Fire This Time audio cd, linked from the IMCC.
And who are they?
The IMCC is a multi-national, neo-global, conglomeration, created for the purpose of disseminating mind control materials and solutions. In short we have answers for your life's problems.
There ya go.
OOOO! Can the security guard turn out to be Spike? I always thought she was the coolest. And can the anonomous person be Caitlyn and you smash her hopes and dreams? I always hated Caitlyn.
And can Snake end up shooting Wheels in a self-defense home invasion and Snake again snaps into the funk he had after finding that kid who commited suicide in the bathroom?
Am I the only one who gets this crap?
Redpac, thank you so much for breaking my brain.
'sides, you mention Spike around here, folks start scurrying worrying about spoilers for the Angel season premiere. . .
Wake up in the morning, gotta shake this feeling, I gotta face a day of school. . .
Wow.
I was looking at that, thinkin to my self, "Self, what the hell is this person talking about?" Then, it all came crashing back into my brain... I can't get the smell of noxema out of my nostrils... oh dear.
Well, I'd apologize for destroying your Happy Fluffy Bunny-thing. But I'm Eeeeevil. Cheers.
Liz, sorry 'bout that. Is there a warning label for hazardous levels of nostalgia?
Neo, you're not evil, just misunderstood.
Wait, no, that's Magneto. Sorry, you were right.
And again I say, bugger.