catching up on my outrage

It’s been a crazy few days ‘round about these delicious parts, and I’ve barely had a moment to sit down and regale the internet with my heroic and naked deeds. All that changes today, though – I am in the Lab early, there are very few fires burning that I must tend to, and I have a breakfast burrito. Clearly, things are looking up and not just because I have extra salsa.

I did not, unfortunately, make it to the midnight launch of Grand Theft Auto IV. I would like to be able to say that I thought better of the entire thing, having realized the sheer folly in being awake at midnight on a work night just so I could join the sweaty nerd thugs in being able to purchase something a full eight hours before the rest of the population, but that’s not why. I had brilliant intentions to leave the house at 11:30 and scoot on over to my favourite EB Games, but .. well, I was just too tired to do it. It was still raining, I had a truly horrific day what with being wet for 15 hours straight, and no one would come with me, so .. I bailed on the midnight adventure. I am somewhat worried for my nerd cred, but I have faith that any one of the other thousand nerdy things I’ve done this year alone will prove that I am totally badass in strange, strange ways.

Besides, I picked up my copy yesterday morning. I figure I’ll have some free time to play it sometime on Friday night around 11pm.

That is, if I can pry the TV out of Ed’s clammy hands – we picked up Mario Kart Wii on Sunday, and it is a laugh riot of epic proportions. Ed’s taking a shine to playing online, and since the 360 and Wii are on the same TV, we will have to fight it out real time before we can fight it out in a virtual setting. I took heavy advantage of EB’s trade-in bonuses, and when everything was all totaled up they owed ME money. Good times. More people should owe me money.

So, about my rage dainties. Yesterday while attempting to get dressed so I could leave for work, I discovered that not one not two but THREE of my bras are royally fucked right up beyond normal repair. The hooks on the back have been straightened or just plain ripped out, and the underwires snapped into multiple pieces. BAD. My boobs deserve nothing but the finest in bra technology, and finding that three whole bras are wrecked is just infuriating. In a fabulous rage, I stormed to the internet and within five minutes, had ordered six new bras to replace my destroyed ones. TAKE THAT! I managed to find a sale and a coupon, so the 6 new bras are coming to me for the low, low price of $135. Since $30 of that is shipping, I am pleased with my discounts – after all, my bras need to be made of mithril with an adamantium core so $18 a piece is a friggin’ bargain. I’m not happy about having to buy new bras so soon, but this time around I bought nothing but function – no fur trim or sequins or crystal chandeliers; nothing but good old fashioned danger cleavage baring brassieres.

In other news, more than half of the 53 girls between the ages of 14-17 taken from the polygamist compound in Texas either are pregnant or have already given birth. Moral America, however, is too scandalized by the nude back of teen sensation Miley “Hannah Montana” Cyrus to give half a damn. Good game, America. Your priorities are clearly in the right place and once again, your common sense and compassion are stellar examples of the good our species is capable of.

If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go throw up in my mouth a little.

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