Kiss me first.

June 1, 2007
Filed under:Bitchin

When change comes about, the duality of my mindset is shown in both my youthful and boisterous puppy-like idiot and crotchety and grumbling doddering old man. I love it and seek it out, and I hate it and rebel against it, at the same time.

It’s not hard to believe then that when I worked so hard to get my sites and domains redesigned and moved over to Pedro’s Hosting, I assumed that juddhole.com expiring would mean that Pete could snatch it off them and I could pay his meager fees instead of their exorbitant ones.

I was told by a very nice George in Nova Scotia that Register.com owns mah shit and wasn’t gonna give it up for a month and that I’d have to renew with them if I wanted it to work anytime soon. I told him that the least they could do was lubricate a bit before jamming it in my ass and that I wasn’t even getting a polite reach-around. Nuh-uh, no way, no how.

He thought about it, checked that the support records indicated that the history of my requests of them is significantly less of a pain in the ass then what he was about to inflict upon my precious pucker, and then caved and gave me a smokin’ deal.

So I’m back.

I used to get up in the morning, coffeeshitshowershave, help get the kids sorted for the day, take one or both to school, read to them, kiss them, and then bolt out of there so that I could pull my gumboots up to my hips in preparation for wading through the knee-deep SHIT that was my day.

I used to do my day in the best way that I could, which is to say that I rocked for the most part, then I would double-check my gumboots and head home, where I would kiss people and hear about naughtiness/niceness as I would strip off some of the more finer tailored shackles one can have.

I used to think that I had to do this even though I didn’t want to.

Now, I don’t.

Piss off Dilbert

Life is too short to put up with that shit for the IDEA of what it may mean to you.

Go now. Go and do something that makes you feel free and happy and good.

I’m going to help my little girl with some doll’s clothes, watch my baby blow raspberries at me and giggle, kiss my hot wife and make an egg-salad sandwich while I dance around the kitchen squeaking that Mika song.

I could be hurtful, I could be purple…

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