August 14th, 2002

diner friends

*Sits back, stunned*

It's publishing now. I'm... finished. Sort of. Oh wow.

Sweeeeet. Go visit. Go, go, go, go.

They call me DrWorm...

Sign the guestbook (it's under 'Site'). Please. Validate me! Grar! Foo! *falls backward*
  • Current Music
    Me First and the Gimmie Gimmies - Don't Cry For Me Argentina
benevolence

Oh... riiight...

And, like, the range of my ability to draw little pixelated pictures extends thus far:



Yes, I'm trying to avoid doing the ones that Sy has already done. As hers are far, far better and I don't want to step on her toes...

But I kinda like mine. Hmm. Fiddling with a Scott right now.

Everyone seems angry. ;___; Feel better people. Feel better.
  • Current Music
    Britney Spears - Stronger
fuck you

Oh bugger all...

Dammit, dammit, dammit, DAMMIT! Fucker.

To explain this little outburst, let me relate some history. When we first got/found/rescued/incarcerated Greebo, the poor li'l darlin' had earmites (and, yes, my Greebo does qualify as a li'l darlin'. He's a mighty hunter trapped in a tiny kitty body). Aww... well, we took him to the vet, I got accustomed to digging strange things out of his ears, and he got better. But, before he went and got better, he passed them on to Sputnik.

We bought some over the counter ear drops for him, but no... persistent itching abounds. Dad keeps saying we're going to take him to the vet, yes indeed. But, nope, hasn't happened yet. So today I decide to take a good look at what he's been scratching at all this time.

Suffice to say, it was disgusting. His ears smelled awful. Goop was coming out, caking in his fur. I never even imagined. Greebo never had more then a little bit of black stuff around the edges that I could get rid of with a cotton swab. I had to dampen a washcloth to get some of the crap to come off. Then I found that ear medicene and practically had to lay on top of him while I held his head still to get the fucking stuff in. I'm so sorry, Sputter. This should NOT have gone on this long. Every single goddamned day my father says "He needs to go to a vet" but he never calls. I'd call, but I'm not the one with the credit card.

I HATE IT when he does this. Grrrr...

And this test result doesn't fit right at the moment....





But, in general, it's accurate.
  • Current Mood
    enraged enraged
zoot

Mmm... surveyness...

1. What is your lineage? Where are your ancestors from?

Momma's a Croat and Daddy is... probably Irish. Possibly German. Most likely, some sort of strange British Isles mutt.

2. Of those countries, which would you most like to visit?

Croatia, definitely. I'd be immensely pleased to learn how to speak the language too, although I have no idea how to go about doing that. If anybody has any tips, please throw them my way, thankee...

3. Which would you least like to visit? Why?

I can do without Ireland. It's bad enough having bloody red hair and green eyes and St. Patrick's Day... I can't stand being Irish and I have no desire to go there.

4. Do you do anything during the year to celebrate or recognize your heritage?

No... although I have a "Croatian Buddy" named Jessie at school. We've banded together in light of our coincidentally sharing a similar ethnic background.

5. Who were the first ancestors to move to your present country (parents, grandparents, etc)?

Well, as far as I can remember, mom's mother and father both came over from Croatia as children. I pulled that fact straight out of my ass and I'm not entirely sure whether it's true or not. It's the best I have to go on. And Dad's people have been here ages and ages. We have some documents of an ancestor fighting in the (American) Civil War. And lying about his age to do it. I wouldn't be surprised if we were here during the Revolutionary War; it just seems natural for this family.
  • Current Music
    Pink - Don't Let Me Get Me