Bret Michaels...WTF?

Due to the fact that I get free television watching at home...the husband and I have come across part II of the Bret Michaels search for slut-love.

OMG, this is the WORST show I have EVER SEEN. Would you be so proud of your daughter, on TV, vying to be the biggest slut-whore on the face of the planet? For *Bret Michaels* of all people.

How old and washed up is this person? (very)

I'm watching it again in my hotel room. It's entirely stupidity at its finest.

At least when I am home, someone in the 'hood fastforwards through the commercials which are at least TOLERABLE compared to this stupid show.

I spent the day in a conference room, with lots of treats and drinks and lunch and a superb dinner with an open bar and two gin and tonic's in my belly.
And I was depressed by the tour of the facilities of the insurance building I spent the day at. No fighting for parking, no ugly stepchildren in the corner packed in their cubicles like sardines. (Stinky sardines in the 95* temperature during the summer with a broken airconditioner)

Oh no! This building has an on-site gym, with a POOL, and a basketball court, an optical center where you get FREE eye exams and eyeglasses every two years, an on-site health/nurse facility, a salon, a dry cleaning service, a place to drop off your CAR for an oil change, a tire change and a car wash if you get these done, a cafeteria...that seats appx 600 people, ice machines, LOADS of microwaves that didn't come from a pawn shop, newspaper vending machines with the New York Times and other various papers to choose from, actual conference rooms with functional TABLES, they get fresh AIR pumped into the building every SIX minutes...What else? My hell, just when you think they couldn't show you more, there was yet another floor to show, no fights for parking spaces...people who spoke so highly of their place of employment.

SIGH

It was depressing.

When we got to the bar, someone asked me how I liked the tour. I said "If you are trying to recruite me, you are doing a fabulous job."

They thought that was HILARIOUS.
If they only knew.

Well, I actually get to sleep in a little tomorrow before I trek back to the airport, so I've packed my 5 beers in my luggage..wrapped in socks and one handtowel that I, uhm, aquired from the hotel...hopefully they don't miss it...because I didn't have to pack a lot of clothes, and heaven forbid I break a beer.
I used to do this all the time...bring back a 12 pack of beer from Chicago, when I was traveling a lot, and there was never an issue...but this was before 2001....so we'll see what happens.
I've had two gin and tonics, so I'm not needing anything else tonight. Just something to relax me to sleep so I don't hear the "I think there is a rodent in my room" noise that I heard last night.

I get to go back to work on Thursday. I am not excited. I have not missed my department at ALL.

I've missed a few people...my oatmeal run in the morning person, and that's about it. My home premium-chicken-strip.

My stupid attorney called the husband on Monday night too, and confused the crap out of him, since he talks a load of shit all the time, and the phone in my room SUCKS, since you can't hear me, even though I am YELLING. So I guess we'll talk about it tomorrow.

Until next time.
Adios

By the way, did I happen to mention that we purchased a 4-Runner? Well, we did. And my typing sucks completely, so I'm out.

Who to hire...

I need a hitman...and I need one now.

A hitman to not neccessarily take the life of another....just to break the kneecaps of one, useless attorney, who will not return my nagging emails or answer his phone.

I SWEAR!!!!!

You are getting exactly 30% of whatever the stupid insurance people pay out. The least you could do is reply to my email.
I don't care if all you say is "Kiss my ass". At least REPLY.

I'm really not too upset about it at the moment, just irritated as hell.
I am done. Done. Done. Done. And all I am in the mood to do now is settle and move on. Live with endless pain and get this over with.
Is that really too much for one to ask for?

Well, it is now time for a three-person game of Duck Duck Goose with two, sweet girls who ate all their dinner...and I think I have started to digest, so a little jaunt around the front room won't kill me or make me throw up.