Wolf Worms and Turkish Delight

Do you know what wolf worms are dear reader?

"Wolf worms (or screw worms) infect all kinds of animals, including pet cats. Of the genus Cuterebra, wolf worms are the parasitic larvae of the Cuterebra fly. The wolf worm enters the cat's body through the pet's mouth, nose or a wound in the skin. It then migrates through the pet's body and comes to rest at a location under the skin. When it nears maturity, the wolf worm may be up to an inch long and is easily visible with the naked eye."- ehow.com
What they don't say is that a wolf worm looks (a lot) like a maggot about the size of your thumb nail and pokes its head out of the massive wound it has formed to make its home in the cats body when you begin to futs with it. Thankfully, in this incredibly gross gesture, the worm makes itself  easy to pluck out; the cat none the wiser for it.
That was my after lunch adventure today at work. It was possible one of the more disgusting things I have seen in my life and also one of the most fascinating. To put it mildly, I kind of wanted to vomit when I saw it happen and yet, I was secretly hoping that the doctor would need to re-leave the cat of more than one. Otherwise, work was uneventful and when I got home I was pleasantly surprised to find that our neighbor (in thanks for watching his cat while in the Ukraine) had brought us Turkish delight! I absolutely adore Turkish delight and have had the good fortune to try it twice in my life. I have to say I am luckier than most Americans, since jellied pistachios covered in powder sugar really doesn't seem like it will be catching on soon in the states. That is, unless, it suddenly becomes popular among hipsters for some ironic reason that would be beyond me. Speaking of which, the whole mustache craze has gotten a little bit out of control. I mean, I saw mustaches being sold in claires. The target audience of claires, last time I checked, was unable to even grow mustaches due to the fact that the target audience members are prepubescent girls. This fact, however, did not stop me from walking into said claires, noticing said mustaches, and buying a six pack of puppy earrings for work purposes.
My ears freaked out when I put them in though.
So that was $4.50 (on clearance) down the drain.
(picnic,lighting)

Not actually a fish per say...

First off, I don't know how to navigate this new blogger format. It was the same layout for like a decade and now it's all, what, streamline and shit? I know most people are unable to accept change- I am most people in this respect. Anyway, I guess no one else would notice the new layout because I don't really know anyone who still blogs. Except my friend Allison, but she doesn't follow me.
So for now, I am safe.
Anyway, you know what's gross? You know what is really hard to get over and you can still feel it even after it has successfully been chopped to bits in the garbage disposal?
A silverfish.On.Yo.FACE!
Ahhhhh!
So gross.
Happened yesterday while I was playing video games. See, last week was so mindbogglingly stressful I pinched a nerve in my neck while I slept and was basically rendered immobile for the whole weekend. I went to CVS and purchased a neck brace, which led to more hilarity. Anyway, so I'm playing "Little Big Planet" and I feel this scuttle on my face, I can't see it though because of the neck brace. I don't think anything of it, despite it freaking me out slightly. When it happens again about half an hour later, I scream "There's something on my face! What's on my face!?" Spike picks it off and says, "It's nothing don't worry about it. It's nothing." Yeah, it wasn't nothing. It was a damn silverfish.
Baugh!
And now I keep feeling it's nasty little creepy crawly legs all over my neck.
(picnic,lightning)

Ma'ms for Dollars

 I found a generator to create these wonderful/completely overused, "keep calm and carry on" posters. This one, of course has my own personal flare thrown in the mix. Why use obscenities? I say, why not. When writing, use what you know best.
So yeah, the generator can be found  here: http://www.keepcalm-o-matic.co.uk/
It's loads of fun and just what I need after a long day of being paid to be polite. Which I won't say that I'm bad at (in fact I am quite good...I think) it just tends to get tiresome after eight straight hours, five days a week

I really need to start having hobbies outside of  work and the internet again. Maybe if I get hobbies I will somehow become a happy person again. However, we aren't going to shoot for "well adjusted", we need to keep this within the realms of "do-able".

As for the last post (all those many months ago) I decided that the easiest solution to my annoyance was to not go to the wedding at all. Valid excuse? I will be in Texas, I think? I need to double check the flight schedule. It's only a few weeks until I fly back to Eau Claire for a few days. I look forward to it. How I am going to get through said few weeks, however, is completely beyond me.
I just hope I don't get canned in the mean-time.
I'm not actually joking.
(picnic, lightning)

A pit....really?

A mutual friend of Spike and I surprised us today by saying that they would be getting married in August at the same boyscout camp we said our nuptuals at more than two years ago. A surprise, because of the fact that this certain someones fiance (when asked if they could marry at camp) said that there was no way she was going to get married in a pit.

A pit, really?

That makes me feel so good about myself, especially because she came to our wedding in said "pit", drank the free booze, glared at most everyone (myself included) and said less than two words to anyone.
Real blue ribbon stuff.

Have I said anything to this woman? No.

Am I helping them with wedding questions concerning camp? Yes.

Am I going to lose it on the bride and make a complete horses ass out of myself before/on the day of the wedding? Maybe.

(picnic, lightning)

P.S. The posted image has nothign to do with anything of course, I just thought it was funny.

The chicken is what's cooked...the goose got a pardon

So haven't updated in a while because I've been trying to stay positive and, as everyone knows, I only post when I am upset about something.

Hardee, har, har.

Tommorow I intend to find out whether I have indeed been cleared to work at the OSP again. Because, surprise suprise, I counted my chickens before they were hatched. This counting is something I try very hard to obstain from, but hey we're all human.

Except for the animals, bugs, spiders, and aforementioned chickens.

Spike is playing fallout 3 again, which seems to be the only way that the man can decompress these days. I don't blame him, shit is stressful. Like, all around in fact. So am I going to tell him he'll go blind sitting that close to the tv? Hell no. He deserves some peace.

Friday is usually the only day that Spike and I are social. We go out to the bars, see some folk, have a laugh. But this week we're trying to start the "let's take it down a notch on the spending, shall we?" and see how that works out for us. Plus, Spike's best bud (and my close but not best bud) Pete is taking fun time out of his vacation to come and see us. So the money we did not spend tonight shall be spent elsewhere and more of it.

I cannot wait to be not poor anymore.

So cross your fingers that tommorow shall bring some worthwhile news.

(picnic, lightning)

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!

I cannot stand it when college graduates think they are entitled to a damn job when they get out of college!ARrrrrrrrrghhhghdso;.lkgnhjdjg;loaFJGP;DSIGDS

FUCK!!

What fucking arrogance. "Oh I didn't do anything except go to class in college, and I have no work experience but of course I'm going to have a job when I get done becaue I'm entitled to it." And everything is going to be fucking sunshine and goddamn motherfucking rainbows.

WHAT THE SHIT?!?!

Gaaahahahhahshfhashdfhh!!!!!

Motherfuckers!!!!!

I just got done have a fucking half hour conversation with someone who felt so entitled. As far as I know he never had a damn job until after college, yeah he vollunteered at the campus radio station but of course he hasn't found anything or been able to hang on to a job because even the incredibly qualified can't be garunteed a job in this economy. He says that his parents said he would be able to get a job but I mean, how can they promise something like that? That isn't even fucking possible. Since when does anyone past the age of 12 beleive what their parents say anyway???

I'm so fuckinh pissed I'm not even gonna spell check this fucking post.

Motherfucker. Cock. Balls. BULLSHIT.

(picnic motherfucking lightning)

Watching Sherlock. Doing Laundry.
Things seem to be looking up for the yankee here in the dirty, I don't know when but I have a job lined up back at the OSP. I really wanted to return and now I shall. I just hope I don't run out of money before then.