ARUGHDF

i went to get dinner, because i was going to be late getting home from work, so i think, 'hey, fucking mcdonalds isn't terrible"

except when instead of giving you the burger you ordered, you get a tiny fucking burger with soggy lettuce and tomato on it.  who the fuck wants fucking shitty ass iceberg lettuce on a crap-ass mcdonalds burger?

"do you want someone to contact you?"  why?  i'm already home with my wrong-ass burger?  i'm going to haul my ass back to the store to have the fuckbag who couldn't put the right fucking burger into the right fucking bag?  i'm going to put my pants back on for that? fuck you.

and now i'm trying to decide if the grumbly tummy is because i'm still hungry, or because i ate the bottom half of the burger with all that shit scraped off super fast and super angry.

fuck.  i was going to eat and watch a show, but by the time the show finished with commercials, i'm already done and furious.  thanks for ruining my whole fucking day.

i'd wish that the guy would be fired, but i think he's a manager or something.  i mean, a fucking manager, and "regular menu item" and "asinine piece of shit monstrosity" were too many things to keep straight?

plus the asshole always undersalts the fries.  hello?  if i wanted my heart not to explode, i wouldn't fucking be here, would i?

wendy never fucks up my order.  wendy fucking loves me.


anyway, maybe bdsmlibrary isn't dead forever?  i might start sending in stories there if they actually post something new.

huh.

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can i just copy the tumblr post?

hey. hi.

i’m back.  i have like almost two weeks of stuff to look through, so the queue is probably going to be weird for a day or so, and then is going to be all “i saw this shit already, sammy” for a few days.

deals with it, ok?

i want waffles?

fine. i'll admit it.

it's taken me years to accept it, but i can't deny it anymore.

takenoko no sato are superior to kinoko no yama.

they're simply better.

wanna know what's fun?

playing disney roulette.

it's super simple.

listen to disney song videos on youtube until you break out in super gross ugly crying.

challenge: start with frozen videos.

"fuck you, i can 'let it go' forever!"

sure, whatever.  can you "first time in forever (reprise)" it?

yeah

didn't think so.

so i'm going to wipe out a bunch of gross tears that are all over right now, and give an update that i totally wrote some stuff last night while drunk.  it's pretty good, actually, and that's my assessment from not now, but when i was not drunk.  the next part is literally the bit of the story that is the story and isn't this stupid awful prologue i had to write formyself.

"oh, pop-tarts!"

"i haven't had pop-tarts in a long time.  i'd kind of forgotten about them," said checkout dude.

"yeah.  huh," replied sammy, realizing suddenly that her shopping list was nothing but junk food, vodka, and grocery store sushi.

"did you see they make carmel combos now?  those are a bit weird," he continues, as she tries hard to find something to add to the belt to fix the situation.

"get some reese's cups!" shouts her brain, and she grabs them from the candy rack and puts the package on top of the sushi.

"yeah, i saw those, but yeah...weird," sammy stumbles out as she faces the fact that adding candy doesn't fix the junk food balance on display.

==

this has been a barely fictionalized version of the horror that happened this evening.

dear drunk sammy from last night,

are you doing well?  i hope you're having a great evening.

just wanted to let you know that i received your gift.  "one bite of chocolate cookie, mushed in a ziplock bag, and then rolled over in the night so that it's all melted and crushed" was right where you left it, underneath the pillow.

maybe in the future, you can leave more than a single bite, or, alternatively, just eat the whole cookie and be done with it.  just suggestions for you to mull over.

anyway, i need to get to sleep at some point, so i'll let you get on with being in the past.

love,
right now sammy who kind of wanted to eat that whole cookie herself

do people get annoyed at random daily posts?

like, "fucking sammy.  talking about shit to farm sympathy to her shitty behavior.  jerk."

because that's how it feels, so if you feel like that too, just do a comment with some random word.  post anonymously.  no animals.   like "brick" or "tortilla".  not "puppy" or "kinkajou".  thanks.

buy a book, google chrome.  kinkajou is totally a real word.  as is google.

what was my point today?

i completely forgot the point.  here's a few things i probably wanted the point to be:

i wanted to write today, but i didn't,  because i felt too tired.  waking up early sucks.

so i did some tumblr stuff instead.  that's easier and way way more mindless.

i did plan out some of o2 in the shower this morning.  i think i have the main details done, and a lot of the character motivation.  i need to get it down so i don't forget, but the themes are easy.

i hate writing "and then did the same to the MONKEY on the other side."  this technical shit is hard to make not suck.  "annie PIROUETTES sammy's left CARBOXYLIC until it PURPLES like a TENEMENT" those are all apparently real words, so i'm sorry if it doesn't make sense.  if anyone reads o1 and sees some obvious fix to this stuff, let me know.  i just write what makes sense, and then feel bad about how lame it sounds.


if you were here right now, and said the magic words of "i don't hate you, sammy," i'd probably give you an awkward hug

awkward because i don't hug much, and double awkward because getting hugged by naked people is kind of super weird.

sorry.

EDIT STARTS NOW:

politics.

i was going to warn everyone that i'll probably talk about politics tomorrow.  so.  you know, if you might be against my particular politics, maybe go fuck yourself and go away.  and if you are cool with my political shit, you can ignore if i'm too weird?  i'm pretty sure those are the only groups.  fuckers who should diaf, and people who we might disagree on details, but we probably agree on the big picture stuff.

so tomorrow.  probably a brambly politics thing.  you might be able to guess the details or triggers or whatever.  but, hey, you can see me be all dumb tomorrow.

poop.

things

1. i've had two people send me feedback on literotica in the past day.  i haven't updated there since november.  what's going on over there?
2. do you ever order clothes from amazon, and you assume they're not going to fit, and you're just going to cry and throw them away?  but then they show up, and they're super soft, and you wash them, and try them on, and they totally fit great, and you end up crying anyway because you assumed you'd be disappointed, and now you're not, but you had this cry scheduled so it's coming out?  um.  yeah.  me neither.
3. remember those pink/chocolate/white cookies that were like layers with frosting inside?  what are those called, and i should look in the cookie lane for those, right?
4. does anyone know if grocery store garlic bread is worth buying?  i kind of want garlic bread, but i'm super lazy.  not like the frozen kind, either.  the safeway nearby has loafs sitting out that are all garlic-ed up.  are those any good?
5. this is less panicky me.  i still end up crying a lot, and i worry about junk food more than is probably healthy.  go me.

red panda

little fuzzy bear
i want to give you some hugs
you are just so cute.

so. apparently:

if you ask google "where can i go to pet a red panda" the first result is "wellington zoo."

really?

i have to fly to new zealand to pet a red panda?

technically, it's a "close encounter" with a red panda.  you get some food, they open doors, the panda comes to visit you.

i'm assuming you can pet them.  any place that's like, "oh, this super cute bundle of supercute is going to come up to you and eat the food in your lap.  don't touch it." is probably like selling drugs or something, because that's just evil.

it also seems to get booked up super far in advance.  which, duh.  red pandas are cute, sammy.

anyway, hypothetically:

if you know of a not new zealand place to pet red pandas, please let me know. partially because i have never heard of "jetstar" before, and i kind of prefer to book flights with companies that won't crash me into the ocean.

maybe it's just me

i go to look at something on my phone, and i wiggle at it, and it's just black, and i push buttons, and it's still all black, so i try to reboot it, and it pops up the "i'm dead, because you let me run out of power."

and i feel so bad about that.  like, i got this phone kind of recently, and the battery is so much better than my last phone, so i can go like a day or two without plugging it in.

but when i see that sad no power screen, i feel like i've let it down.  i love you, tiny rectangle of answers when i have stupid questions!  i'm sorry to let you run out of power, and i'll try better tomorrow!  please get better!

UPDATE!

you can buy chicken nuggets (for a limited time) at the price of 25¢ per nugget, in sets of ten.

i understand that the price is significantly less on the mainland.

because maybe some people don't know they're wrong?

i've decided what i want to be when i grow up.

i want to be the person who pets red pandas all day, so they know that they're the cutest animals in the world.

dear old dude at the checkout lane,

yeah, i saw how you tried to use your papa john's club card as your grocery club card.  that told me you eat shitty pizza made by that jack ass's company.  that told me a lot about you right there.

"you must like that tea.  is it any good?"  wow.  you're like sherlock fucking holmes here.  i'm buying six bottles of tea.  what made you think that i like it?  is it the six of them sitting there, all together, with me buying it?

and no, it's shitty tea.  that's why i buy it.  because if i'm going to drink something, and drink six of them, i'm going to get something that sucks.  because that's super smart.

"yeah" is what i said.  "meh.  i'm trying to drink tea now instead of vodka so i am less likely to wake up in a puddle of bloody vomit someday.  not that i'm super into not dying, just that if you wake up in a puddle of bloody vomit, you're probably going to have to clean it up, and that's going to suck.  so yeah.  i'm buying six bottles of tea now, because that seems healthier to me" is what i meant.

i thought we had some sort of rule that you're not allowed to talk to people in the checkout lane about what they're buying.  so that means if someone's buying a bunch of toilet paper, you don't say something like, "oh, planning on taking a shit today?"  or if someone's buying the stereotypical condoms and long vegetables, they can just look embarrassed quietly without any weird conversations.

i saw what you were buying guy.  there was nothing for that cheese to go with.  were you planning on working on your night cheese, old dude?

Fucking fuck.

i just discovered that the tasty looking frozen stuffed shells that i JUST FUCKING BOUGHT are stuffed with broccoli, and not spinach like i thought.

broccoli is fucking disgusting.

i was super looking forward to them, and now they get to go live in the garbage.  forever.

like everything that's made with broccoli.

because if i listen to a song twice and it calms me down both times, i can't not share it, right?

i really don't care what you say.  it makes me smile, it makes me feel less shit, it makes me happy.

hopefully it does the same for you.