no really, say what you're thinking
 

LJ's thread gave me an idea. When you visit this thread, you have to say exactly what you're thinking at the time, no holds barred, unreserved, doesn't have to link to the previous post. It could be a simple thought, one word, or an essay on globalisation. Whatever. This is your free space to say exactly what you think.

Hit it!

I'm thinking about a great many things at present.
Firstly, the pain emanating from my broken ankle which is bad.
But I'm keeping my job on the ship (and the associated money) Which is good
But I can't walk which is bad.
But I have an automatic car and i'm fairly confident of retraining
my left leg to perform the master functions which is good.
But if i'm seen out and about they'll expect me to drive to the navy base and shine a seat which is bad.
But a dozen bottles of red wine arrived today from a friends vineyard so who needs to drive? which is good.
And so it goes relentlessly. Well, at the downside of my codeine medication anyways.
I'm not nearly as introspective after dosage time, which is good.
Sorry you asked?

In order to really understand Latin you have to be beaten by a nun with a 14 inch steel ruler.

I'm still wondering what possessed me to continue cleaning gutters when I'd already found a yellowjacket nest. Then two. Then THREE! I now count [the_count] one! two! three! four! FOUR WONDERFUL BEE STINGS! ah ah ah ah! [/the_count]

Ouch!

Another 6 months looking at a 12" screen and my vision is just going to give up in disgust.
This picture figure looks like crap, I need to give it a break.
When it comes time to move you suddenly realize how much crap you have collected.

I wonder if strong pain medication that's been heated and cooled repeatedly will cause violent fits of nausea and vomiting if taken with food.

I'm wondering if I should raid my desk for Fruity Pebbles(tm) before or after I read the latest security card system proposal.

boy, this coffee sure is tasty.
it's quite humid today
the voice in my head is still asleep
i hate that lady in the range rover that went 2 mph under the speed limit the whole last half of my trip to work
i've got to get back to work

i don't want to work today

Woohoo! No extra kid to watch today :D
I wish I had some coffee. And a maid.

Mmmm. Peanut butter.

ah, you're awake! I'll bring you a latte when i come home.....because I love you so much.

HA! You're not funny...
But I'll take the latte, and the love...

And today's winner of the "Thread I could have gone all day without reading" goes to the butt-wipe thread.


http://www.cellar.org/images/smilies/greenface.gif

Maybe it's time to do some work. Got so much to do. Or I could just type incessant crap until my fingers hurt. Ha ha ha. Yes I think I'll do that. They're not hurting yet. Hmm. Maybe I should do some work. Maybe I should quit. Oh shit I already have! Excellent. Oh no. What will I do for money. They've offered me more money to stay. Am I a hypocrite if I stay? How do you spell hypocrite? My fingers hurt a little. Maybe I should stop. This is addictive. Sex. Ah - knew it would come up eventually. Excuse the pun. Oh dear. Must get back to work. I see great things for this thread.

Latte and a maid. Anyone can do half the job, LJ. Now swing by the costume store on the way home (word of advice - get the coffee first) and take care of bidness. http://www.cellar.org/images/smilies/3eyedsmiley.gif

I'm still wondering what possessed me to continue cleaning gutters when I'd already found a yellowjacket nest. Then two. Then THREE! I now count [the_count] one! two! three! four! FOUR WONDERFUL BEE STINGS! ah ah ah ah! [/the_count]

He has bees living in his yellow jacket nests? Maybe they're nest-sitting while the yellow jackets are on vacation.

Beestie, I don't know that I'm all that comfortable with you picturing me in a French Maids outfit. In fact my skin just crawled right off my body. what a mess!

I was in supress visual mode, myself. http://www.cellar.org/images/smilies/eek.gif

I have a french maid's outfit.

BoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBored
BoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBoredBored

No unnecessary restraints, no unnecessary shock therapy, not enough medication.

bored...

I wonder if ts knows he screwed up the page layout.

Looks fine on my screen, I even clipped it in case it would stretch too far.

1024 full width and I've for a fair size scrollbar, we don't all have the luxury of 1200x1600 :P.

I'm thinking about having to go through three and a half hours of neuropsych testing this afternoon. Exhausting! Endless sequences of little triangles and squares and rectangles - worse than constructing models of isomers for organic chem class. And these stupid little cards that tell stories in pictures that you have to put in sequence. I think I'll make all my stories go backwards this afternoon just to see the look on the good doctor's face. I'm thinking of getting in touch with Aunt Elsa (it's been a while, and I might need a safe place to stay after next November). I'm thinking of an isolated stretch of the Colorado River that I discovered where huge fish can be heard jumping out of the water all night long and how nice it would be to go down there with a sleeping roll, a fishing pole, and a few good books and just vanishing for a few days. I'm thinking about how Mike the muscian is going to be gone up in Aspen for his masters class in classical guitar, and I'm really going to miss him while he's gone. I'm thinking about how much I miss getting to go into a library to work. I wonder if those stupid squares and rectangles will help me do that again someday...

This coffee is good. I started the pot just before I got in this morning, and I actually go to have a cup of it before it disappeared, and some idiot leaves the empty carafe on the hotplate. I'm enjoying the scene out the bank of windows that allows me a view of 2nd street. The pavement slowly rises over a quarter of a mile up to Pike Place. Pike place is actually on first, but if you walked up to where my view ends, you'd see Pike place. Mmm! Gyros...

He's talking Pike Place (Market) - in downtown Seattle. Pugetopolis == Puget Sound.

We used to live there a while back. Going back this summer to show the kids where they were born.

What I cannot get out of my head is the impending pain, the forceful, involuntary shuddering of my intestines that is likely to happen in the next hour after having eaten a large styrofoam carton of lamb (gyro meat) over yellow rice coated in a pungent mix of hot sauce and that nearly mayonnaise-like concoction Mr. I-Cook-My-Meat-On-The-Street typically serves me. I pity the two women who share my desk area. On this day, unlike most others, I have that lingering after-taste in the back of my throat that indicates a potentially lethal build-up of gas that one only learns to detect after years of experiencing and learning to manage ass-searing flatulation. Oh god, here we go.

From this point on I'll be more considerate of those less well endowed.

monitor envy

Yeah, I keep forgetting that some people aren't accustomed to squeezing so much in at one time.

I mean all of that information at once can overwhelm lesser... interfaces, yeah, interfaces.

Keep the benadryl handy.

I need more coffee, but I really have to make room first. I wonder where I bought that photo album to begin with, I'll never find refill pages for it, might as well just buy a new one and get it over with.

I'm sick of all these short-thoughtless-off-the-cuff-response threads. The beauty of this medium is being able to take your sweet ass time to phrase things well. Why cheapen it with entire threads devoted to one-sentence-or-less responses?

img-timeline, I suppose, given those threads seem to have mostly died. This might just be belated, misdirected, and blind rage.

*laughs
Whenever the damn things ship I'll have an Apple 20", then you'll pay, muahahaha.

Thanks for sharing breakingnews.

Oh and mari, I'll be happy to take in a few refugees of the regime ;)

I'm juggling (not so) cheap airfares and my work schedule to plan my next trip to see the boyfriend. Calculating the stress levels at home in the office connected to various flight times. Wishing I didn't have to shoot up and down the country all the time. thinking that when he moves in with me this stress will go, and wondering what the stress that replaces it will be like ... :(

I'm thinking this is the first time I've ever used a public library computer for Internet access (I'm cooling my heels while the kids are at a program in the children's room), and I'm wondering if the gummint-mandated filters are going to flag any of the naughty stuff you perverts keep posting about.

its 7:22 pm and 12:30 seems so far away. sucks to be stuck at work all day and NIGHT. wheres Marty and the Doc when you need them?

for those that remember the thread about investing with a full service broker:

tw must be my (possibly former) client's neighbor. i have worked hard to get this lady into a perfectly balanced portolio that should give her a stream of income lasting about 7 years beyond her life expectancy. her damn neighbor has gone and filled her head with some crap about only buying cd's, s&p funds, and other low yield bullshit "because it's safe" and brokers only exist to screw you out of money.
i've got her promise that she will wait 2 weeks and think this over very thoroughly - because the plan her neighbor is helping her with "for free" by my calculations, will cause her to run out of money before she is dead. but hey - at least she won't be paying a broker, right?



BTW - her portfolio is in line, so she would never pay another sales charge, by staying with me anyway - just a $30 annual fee on her $1.2 mill account. damn i'm pissed.

i know, sucks huh?

I agree.

lookout - that's exactly why I would never, ever want to interact with the public on financial dealings. Once you get over 1m you can start to get into all sorts of fun stuff her neighbor wouldn't even know exist.

Well I've come in this morning and don't feel very well. Bit sniffly, eyes droopy. Dreamt last night that I was pregnant and had to stuff my stomach full of hard stuff via a tube to get rid of it. Really disturbing. Especially because I had unprotected sex at the weekend. Idiot. No, it's not even idiotic, it's fucking stupid, on the level of say, an amoeba. An amoeba with no body. That's how fucking stupid. I am constantly amazed at my capacity not to learn. Just want to go to bed, cannot be bothered with clients today, they're all wankers the lot of them, I don't have time in my life to pander to their inconsequential psychosis. Bah. (Sulk) Sniff. Etc.

I'd like to trade the perceived speed of the first hour at work for the last hour...that first hour always goes by so fast for some reason...and that last hour moves sooo very slowly....that way I feel I get more done in that first hour at work and the wait to go home won't be so agonizing...

I've been thinking about the following for eight hours non-stop.
An ex work colleagues distant relatives friends son is in a vegetative state after a horrific accident. The mother hears I collect records and offers me her son's collection of about 400 albums for $400 Aud. I go look. There are entire sets of Zeppelin, Floyd, Deep purple, Beatles, Presley etc. It's immediately obvious this kid knew his collectibles and his mother has no clue.
I know I could easily get $500 just for the Floyd section alone so the temptation is overwhelming and to be perfectly honest it's only the thought of being discovered that's prevented me from snapping them up already.
The parents do not need the money and I no longer have to work with the facilitator of the deal.
Any thoughts.

The money will run out but the conscience will last a lifetime. Up to you, but I couldn't deal with the guilt, esp. given the terribly unfortunate circumstances. And if they found out, which lets face it is quite likely through friends, relatives, or even those antiques tv programmes, it would just be another thing to add to their trauma that they really could do without.

Nah, they won't ever find out because likely they couldn't even name a record in the collection, parents usually don't pay much attention to what their children listen to.

I would just offer them something closer to what the collection is worth, out of respect for your friend. There's no shame in making some profit since you would be doing the legwork of selling it all.

Oh, and if your friend ever wakes up, you are screwed. :)

I heard a news blurb this morning that a man bought a suitcase in an auction that contained unreleased Beatle albums, manuscripts, ets. It seems the original owner (now deceased) was an original roadie for the Beatles an the suitcase was crammed full of memorobilia. If you had bought it, would you try to return it to the estate's heirs because you felt guilty? I dont think so.
Thank your Guardian angel and make the deal (especially if the collection has the Pressley Christmas album pressed in red vinyl; it's extremely rare and worth about 100,000. USD).

Of course, there is always the "flip side":

"Little Johnny woke up and I need to buy the albums back".

Since you're having a moral dilemma over this ...

See what happens if you tell mom about the value of the collection ... that there are many premium albums in there, and that she could get a lot more for them.

She may just want the albums in the hands of someone who would appreciate them.

i agree with wolf, you will probably still end up with the albums at great price but you won't have to feel guilty about it either. something along the lines of "are you sure you want me to take them, because it is a nice collection and if you were to split it up and sell them you would get more money?" it's easy, it's honest, you will still end up with the records and a warm feeling in your heart... cold, dark, rock that it may be... *did i say that out loud?* :eek:

Oh 'fer Chrissake, this is a business deal, not a confessional. Tell her you agree with her offer, and if she accepts, buy the collection. Nothing personal, just business.

I guess I would tell the Mom that the collection is worth more than she believes and make her a better offer that would still allow you to make a reasonable profit. Then I'd take 10% of that profit and donate it to some worthy cause in the kid's name. I'd then inform the parents anonymously of the donation made on their child's behalf. That way you could still make some money, you'd have done a good thing, and you'd sleep better at night. :)

..........Gosh.....this place has changed some, did someone redecorate the cellar?
Hate having no internet access.....HATE HATE HATE....I wont bore you with the details and the whyfors?....I'll just reiterate that I HATE not having access to the internet....HATE HATE HATE. It's been over a month.....indeed its been nearly two! If I hadnt offered to babysit my two adorable ( though thankfully now abed) nieces I would not now be able to tell you just how much I hate not having my internet......So here I sit on my Bro's dial up, joint in one hand and mouse in t'other

There......thats the important stuff dealt with......Now for the fluffier stuff going on in my head .... *grins* hi all. Hows it been down here where the sun never shines?

Is it normal to talk to oneself? Is it a sign of depression to be fearful of everything? Is it possible to go quietly insane , cut adrift from the realities of cyber into a strange dreamlike world of walls and trees?

Perhaps the answers lie within the twisted cardboard roach at the end of my joint......or the pistachio shell cairn on my desk.....Perhaps I should pray....or wail and weep. Or sleep. Keep myself busy and drift into another night time vigil, another morning's waking and the breaking of promises I never intended to keep. To myself.

I just lit a cigarette. Rolled by my own fair hand. My brand of death sentence, white sleek and tipped. Lit, it rips past my throat. Singeing and bringing a measure of calm. I am becalmed. Afloat. A boat drifting into a lazy summer sea. I am nothing of what I was. I am no longer me. I dont smoke. I dont do the things I do. Nothing about me is true.