Rage Against the Retards � � � Monday, Oct. 13, 2003 * 02:18

Well this is the new crap, and I welcome the change. All of that elvish was starting to make me cross-eyed.

Consider this a new era in slobber-dom. I mean to write every day from now on, whether or not I have something to say.

I guess I should offer some explanation for my lack of activity. Sometime in August, after Justin had been back for a while, his friend Kevin mentioned a job opportunity to me in Hunt Valley (which is 50 miles from my apartment). I ended up getting hired, going through three weeks of training, and then beginning my employment. I am a support rep for Apple Computer. They ask me stupid shit like "Help, I broke the internet, how do I fix it?" and "Why is smoke coming from my computer?" and "How do I burn a CD?" and "Why won't my iPod turn on?" and "Could you please tell me the phone number for CompUsa in Farmington New Mexico?" I love my job. Anything that makes me feel smarter than my peers is worth holding onto with all my might, as far as I'm concerned. And anything that gives me the chance to fuck around on the internet all day is gold. Even though I can't use AIM.

Well, it's bound to come up. Yes, I did hate Macs with a passion. I'm not fucking selling out. I just happen to now have realized that Macs do have their advantages. Like, um, well, let's see... Whatever, you know the dock in OS X is the shit. Leave me alone.

So, I've been trying to remember all the amusing things I wanted to write about since I last posted a real entry, but the only one I can seem to recall is the one involving The Retard and The Parking Spot. I succeeded in dragging Justin to the mall during Hurrican Isabel. We were staying over at the Fossil's place since our electricity was out for 4 days, and I was going stir crazy looking at all of Kathy's doilies and stuffed bears and whatnot. The mall parking lot was the sight of a serious power-struggle that night. Everyone's damn electricity was out, so where did everyone go? To Muvico. As far away as half-way around the mall, parking spaces were being fought for like nothing I've ever seen. We were close to giving up when I spied an empty space, in a wonderfully perfect location. Justin began to pull into the spot, and all was right with the world, until a retard in an orange sweatshirt jumped into the spot.

You'll need to know that I was sitting in the backseat by myself, as we had just escorted the Fossil to the airport, and I declined to move to the front seat in order to be chauffeured around like the princess I am. Suddenly, here was this glow-in-the-dark moron, standing in our spot, with a look on his face like "Dare me to move! No!" I rolled down the window and said,

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Saving this spot." (as calm as you please, like he owned the fucking mall)

"Get the fuck out of the way."

::shrug:: "No."

"You can't save the fucking parking space. This isn't a fucking movie theater."

"I'm not moving."

Justin told me to get the cell phone and call the police. So I did. I rolled my window all the way down and leaned out, and started dialing 911.

"Would you like me to get out of this car and make you move, or would you rather I called someone else to do it for me?"

The poor guy. Ahh, I guess he was just trying to help out whomever was driving him around. His gigantic head, short arms and squat physique gave him away quickly as one of the less-gifted members of our society, so why was I so rough on him? Why not just let him enjoy the best idea he's probably ever had in his whole simple life?

BECAUSE YOU FUCKING CAN'T SAVE PARKING SPACES UNLESS YOU'RE IN A FUCKING CAR.

Plus, the next thug in an Escalade who drove by would probably have run him over in a heartbeat.