A couple of notes from the Rufus Shinra side of K's brain
Language altered to appear suitably Annoyed (R) and Irascible (TM); this post bears only minimal resemblance to members of the public that may or may not be either living and/or dead. I swear.
28/1: Enumerated List of Bureaucratic Stupidity
*g* Okay, I have to stop, otherwise I think my brain will fall apart. But, yes, today has been an interesting day: for one, I've rediscovered the effects of a cup of coffee. Maybe it's just the fact that I'd spent around 9 years of my life getting only four or six hours of sleep per night and then slogging the rest of the day, but I'd never been affected by coffee until a few months ago. Tragedy! For then I could not drink it ere sleeping. I thought that I'd acquired some strange infection of the lymph. Truefact: after sleeping only 2 hours last night and then braving the roads (thankfully dead: I guess everyone's still hung over) on my bicycle, drinking a flat white did nothing more than restore me to humanity, as opposed to pushing me over the edge into Hyped Up Psycholand. Profit!
Additionally: if you live in the Australasian continent and are on my flist, there's a pretty high chance you're getting something in the mail sometime during the next 4-6 days. *BEAM*
Also: note to self, write creepy random boring piece about how the roads were empty. ish.
Thus is my boring life. *sets to writing Tsengfic at last*
[edit] Ended up updating the downingjones section of
nasdack; essentially: hell.
[edit] I think I'm going to sit here and stare at AIM for a while, so if anyone wants to catch me in my in between-caffeine-dosage lull, go 'head.
28/1: Enumerated List of Bureaucratic Stupidity
- To the American Banking system (and its slew of derivatives): I do not see the need or purpose in your sending my father and myself endless streams of correspondence. I do not need additional paperwork regarding anything to make me feel more self-important about the amount of money this family has deposited in your incredibly (pun fully intended, along with your 0.0000012% per month interest rate) and needlessly complex credit system, and my father is considerably jaded as-is and does not want to be informed, by means of (to date) 7 formal letters, 3 brochures and however many bits and pieces of paper marauding as check(que)books and/or advertisements, that you are Fully Aware of where his money is at any and all times. Rather, I'd be obliged if you left me with less drivel, and more information regarding parts of my account that I should've been informed of beforehand, id est: the drawing limit on my debit card, the fact that said debit card cannot be used for online transactions, and the fact that your company - against all standards of common sense and integrity and the ability to read in sequential lines - managed to not only misspell my name but also managed to rearrange my mailing address such that the second line became the first and the first line became invention. Thank god for postal codes.
- To the paper pushers with whom I am communicating in order to secure simple, no-frills interviews and tours of your facilities: I plead with you never to reply to emails with the phrase (verbatim:) "[i]n regards to the unformal meetings". I weep for you, your colleagues, and whoever it is that has to read your reports on a regular basis, Mms. "Manager of International Relations".
- To the makers of such movies as Troy: mother of Hades, what are you on, people? I could've forgiven Alexander its woes due to the fact that its casting was doomed to begin with, but Troy? Troy? Troy? One would think that Mssr. Pitt, having acted as a vampire and a gambler and a psychopath and a de-aging-re-aging man, would be able to brush his neatly evolved American accent to one corner and do better than scream (verbatim:) "IMMORTALITY!!!!!! TAKE IT!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S YOURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", punctuation not exaggerated. Furthermore, Patroclus. If actual further elaboration is necessary: what of the ardent feminisation, and then the constant implications of "cousin", and then the fact that he - and Mssr. Bloom - served only to make Mssrs. Pitt, Bana and Bean seem muscular and manly in comparison? I decline to comment on the bad theatrical execution, the constant (and annoying) soundtrack, and the fact that the depicted Paris could be broken thus by kicking any particularly adorable puppy somewhere in his vicinity.
- To my love, gmail: I trust you. Please cease being slovenly; I have work to do.
*g* Okay, I have to stop, otherwise I think my brain will fall apart. But, yes, today has been an interesting day: for one, I've rediscovered the effects of a cup of coffee. Maybe it's just the fact that I'd spent around 9 years of my life getting only four or six hours of sleep per night and then slogging the rest of the day, but I'd never been affected by coffee until a few months ago. Tragedy! For then I could not drink it ere sleeping. I thought that I'd acquired some strange infection of the lymph. Truefact: after sleeping only 2 hours last night and then braving the roads (thankfully dead: I guess everyone's still hung over) on my bicycle, drinking a flat white did nothing more than restore me to humanity, as opposed to pushing me over the edge into Hyped Up Psycholand. Profit!
Additionally: if you live in the Australasian continent and are on my flist, there's a pretty high chance you're getting something in the mail sometime during the next 4-6 days. *BEAM*
Also: note to self, write creepy random boring piece about how the roads were empty. ish.
Thus is my boring life. *sets to writing Tsengfic at last*
[edit] Ended up updating the downingjones section of
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[edit] I think I'm going to sit here and stare at AIM for a while, so if anyone wants to catch me in my in between-caffeine-dosage lull, go 'head.