“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard: March 04, 2007

Friday, March 09, 2007

What happens when the world's greatest metal band does a jingle for a coffee franchise?



That's Deathklok from my new favorite show on Cartoon Network's Adult Swim. Here's another clip showcasing the bassist William Murderface and the the greatest bass solo EVER:

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Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Ok.

A few days ago I receive $415 or so in my bank account. This was my first monthly disability payment.

And there was much rejoicing.

My regular monthly payment will be more than that. The first one is lower because it's the figure they're using for all the months I was denied. The line of thinking is that I must have been getting help from somewhere (since I sure as fuck wasn't getting it from the government) so they don't have to give me as much money for those months.

This makes perfect sense to the government because they're bastards.

Anyhow, immediately after discovering this money I pay the cable bill, put 11 gallons of gas in my car for $30 and drop $27 at Buffalo Wild Wings with the guys. Money well spent I feel.

The next day Derek and I go to Sears to get new tires on my car. I went to Sears because I have a Sears credit card for automotive emergencies. Mom has been insisting that I go get new tires after the flat tire incident a few weeks ago. She wants me to put them on my Sears card and she wants to pay for them. The bill goes to her place cause that's where I was living when I got the card like ten years ago and I never use it.

Thing is though, she tells me to ask about the card first because she sent some stuff back that she got charged for but didn't want. See, some time ago I got a card from Sears about a semi-precious ring (not MY precious, but SEMI-precious) that she could get for just the shipping price of $6. I told her fine, go ahead and get it. I guess she sent it back. That was all I knew about the subject.

So Derek and I go to Sears. Derek is my Mom's neighbor's 15-year-old kid. He likes to spend the weekend at my place every once in a while and stay up all night playing video games. He's a good kid and I figure if I'm not doing anything with my life right now then who am I to say that someone else can't?

Plus I'm his hero and he thinks I'm the coolest guy alive.

Which, of course, I am.

A while back my Mom, who babysits Derek often, jokingly introduced Derek as her grandson and for a while there (maybe still, I don't know) Derek told people I was his Dad. This was flattering... till I realized that I was actually old enough to really be his Dad.

There's a fucking wake-up call for you.

So anyways, I pick out my tires and then I ask the guy about my card. He just kinda dismisses it and says that making new charges on the card won't be a problem.

I take him at his word.

So we wander the mall a bit, which I try never to do, and I rediscover WHY I never do. Seems that every day my contempt for the human species grows and the mall just fucking REEKS of justifications for it.

I've got a minor with me, so we head straight to Spencer's Gifts. Pretty much every other place I used to go in the mall is gone. Waldenbooks is gone. It was replaced by Borders, which is a bigger, better bookstore, but it's now on the other side of the parking lot and it was snowing out so fuck that. Any decent music and/or movie stores have been replaced by an FYI where they charge $20 for CD's that were released 20 years ago (Gee, I wonder why piracy is on the fucking rise?). And the hobby store is gone because the owner up and died. So we spent about an hour in Spencer's.

I'm looking through the McFarlaine action figures, they've got a new Army of Darkness one out, when Derek says "Hey look! A big rubber dick!"

I guess he still reads the blog.

Christ I'm a good influence.

From there we wander to EB (Formerly Electronics Boutique) and look through used video games and then on the way back to Sears I check my bank balance. I'm figuring to have just a bit under $200.

I get the receipt and I have over $2,000.

Now THAT will goddamn wake you up.

So the government has finally fucking come through. My money is here. I don't have to worry about my bills anymore.

That's nice.

We go back to Sears and the tires are on. They tell me that it's the last day for their free brake inspection and the car is still up on the rack, so fuck it, I tell them to check the brakes and we go to Circuit City and kill some time with Mike and his gay hair. The temptation to buy an X-Box 360 and a 72 inch high definition TV was very high, but I didn't do it. No, I decided to be responsible with my money.

Responsibility fucking blows.

It's a damn good thing I had Derek there or I would have gone straight to the titty bar. If he looked anything like the people in my collection of driver's licenses I might have gone anyway, but it wasn't to be. Besides, one's first strip club is an experience one should have with their biological father.

We go back to Sears again and apparently my entire brake system is completely ruined. This is something of a surprise since my entire brake system was destroyed two years ago and I got everything replaced. Now I know I needed new brake pads, but I've had no squeaks nor anything else to give me any indication that this kind of damage had been done. Well naturally they didn't have the parts for a 1975 Maverick just laying there, so the guy gets on the phone to order them. Meanwhile, the guy that told me I'd have no problem with my card leaves for the evening.

So I go to pay for the tires and come back to have the brakes fixed when the parts come in.

The guy swipes my Sears card and it's declined.

My lack of surprise was palpable.

I go into the waiting room and use the 24-hour customer service hotline number on the back of the card to find out what the deal is.

To automated voice tells me that the office is closed and to call back during regular business hours.

I look at the card. "24-Hour Customer Service Hotline."

God damn it.

So I end up paying for my own tires with the money I didn't know I had till well after the point of no return on buying the new tires. They couldn't have just put the old ones back on as two of them literally fell apart when they took them off the rims.

Oh, and he tells me I need new brake pads, drums, rotors and wheel bearings. Plus labor that comes to over $500.

The good news just don't stop round here.

They should have the new parts today, but I'm probably not going to have my brakes fixed there as I only took my car there because of my credit card in the first place. By the way, I talked to Mom and I guess she got the ring and they kept sending her jewelry like in a CD club. She didn't want them and sent everything, including the original ring back. Well it seems that the place they got mailed to in in one of those places that just got hit by a shitload of tornadoes and I've been turned over to a collection agency for $160-some-odd dollars.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

So I'll be taking it to my regular auto place today and hopefully be getting it fixed. Actually, they'll have to order parts too, so it'll be a few days.

Anyhow, that was more or less my week.

I think I'll go kill a party clown.