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Messages - Cainad (dec.)

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46
CPD, Better late than never, I guess? That sounded a lot more compassionate in my head.

It's cool. My own mistake.

We all have those. Did I tell you about the guy I shouldn't have dated at all, but instead dated for eleven months and he fucked my head so badly I'm STILL recovering? Yeah. I think you might have been here for that, actually.

By contrast, I can count the number of quarrels and emotionally traumatizing moments I've had with my current boyfriend on no hands. Rest assured that there's something better out there.

This.  Drama is NOT inevitable.

Ex started talking tonight like last night's convo had never happened and we were still a thing. Wanted me to crawl in bed with him and such. I was really confused and disturbed. Brought up last night's convo anyway and it completely flummoxed him. Completely. Flummoxed.

Ditto Nigel's statement. You're being messed with, gtfo of there as soon as you can.

47
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Stalking Nigel
« on: July 01, 2014, 01:54:02 am »
(unless it was a different acronym for "GIS" being discussed in which case I'm a huge tool)
YEAH KEEP TALKING GISHET SCUM.

 :lulz:

48
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Stalking Nigel
« on: July 01, 2014, 01:25:07 am »
It's so charming, the stalkers, the way they show me their devotion and dedication so that they can prove to me that I should just GIVE THEM A CHANCE.
 :horrormirth:

Advise them that you have standards, and they should watch Taxi Driver for details.  Deniro has all the answers.

Perhaps that will be my next step. Although that reminds me, I need to change my OK Cupid status to "seeing someone", which I have been forgetting to do for about the last 2 years. I wonder what treasure trove of messages awaits?

Half of Portland, jacking off like monkeys in the zoo.   :lulz:

It was a strange assortment of numerous "Hey baby"s, several guys telling me that my profile was funny, a couple of guys informing me that "Tauruses are the most interesting people" (Really? From what little I recall of astrology, we're hedonistic homebodies who do little more than lie around on satin pillows eating cheese) and one guy explaining what GIS is.

Well shit, I can do that! No need to go all the way to OK Cupid to learn when you've got huge fucking nerdlords here on PeeDee.

What is GIS?

Geographical Information Systems. Advanced computer mapping software that lets you do spatial analyses of stuff, and also makes things like Google Maps work.

AIN'T THAT JUST PRIME ONLINE FLIRTING MATERIAL!? ARE YA GETTIN' STEAMY YET????




(unless it was a different acronym for "GIS" being discussed in which case I'm a huge tool)

49
 :lulz: Sweet jesus this is golden

51
I was waiting for the Eugene one :lulz:

52
Huh. I guess fuck informed consent, right?

Informed consent is for LOSER NERDS who rely on grant money to do their science.

53
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Stalking Nigel
« on: June 28, 2014, 12:16:36 am »
Holy shit :lol:

54
Holy crap. Your Thursday had too much Eris.  :eek:

56
These trilbydouches sure have a weird (and not-so-subtly racist) idea about what "class" means.

57
Sorry to hear about the health crap, Roger. As holy tribute, I have elected to make a post in a friend's status update, speaking out against paranoid anti-medicine attitudes. If the results are lulzy, I shall post screenshots tonight.

58
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: My Girl Friday
« on: June 26, 2014, 12:11:50 am »
Aw yeah! I just finished a really weird PI story by a favorite author of mine, and now I'm in the mood for more.

59
And why is it always sandwiches? I don't even LIKE sandwiches made at home most of the time; I really only go for a hot deli sandwich.

60
This is beautiful:

Quote
I was shooting heroin and reading “The Fountainhead” in the front seat of my privately owned police cruiser when a call came in. I put a quarter in the radio to activate it. It was the chief.

“Bad news, detective. We got a situation.”

“What? Is the mayor trying to ban trans fats again?”

“Worse. Somebody just stole four hundred and forty-seven million dollars’ worth of bitcoins.”

The heroin needle practically fell out of my arm. “What kind of monster would do something like that? Bitcoins are the ultimate currency: virtual, anonymous, stateless. They represent true economic freedom, not subject to arbitrary manipulation by any government. Do we have any leads?”

“Not yet. But mark my words: we’re going to figure out who did this and we’re going to take them down … provided someone pays us a fair market rate to do so.”

“Easy, chief,” I said. “Any rate the market offers is, by definition, fair.”

He laughed. “That’s why you’re the best I got, Lisowski. Now you get out there and find those bitcoins.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m on it.”

I put a quarter in the siren. Ten minutes later, I was on the scene. It was a normal office building, strangled on all sides by public sidewalks. I hopped over them and went inside.

“Home Depot™ Presents the Police!®” I said, flashing my badge and my gun and a small picture of Ron Paul. “Nobody move unless you want to!” They didn’t.

“Now, which one of you punks is going to pay me to investigate this crime?” No one spoke up.

“Come on,” I said. “Don’t you all understand that the protection of private property is the foundation of all personal liberty?”

It didn’t seem like they did.

“Seriously, guys. Without a strong economic motivator, I’m just going to stand here and not solve this case. Cash is fine, but I prefer being paid in gold bullion or autographed Penn Jillette posters.”

Nothing. These people were stonewalling me. It almost seemed like they didn’t care that a fortune in computer money invented to buy drugs was missing.

I figured I could wait them out. I lit several cigarettes indoors. A pregnant lady coughed, and I told her that secondhand smoke is a myth. Just then, a man in glasses made a break for it.

“Subway™ Eat Fresh and Freeze, Scumbag!®” I yelled.

Too late. He was already out the front door. I went after him.

“Stop right there!” I yelled as I ran. He was faster than me because I always try to avoid stepping on public sidewalks. Our country needs a private-sidewalk voucher system, but, thanks to the incestuous interplay between our corrupt federal government and the public-sidewalk lobby, it will never happen.

I was losing him. “Listen, I’ll pay you to stop!” I yelled. “What would you consider an appropriate price point for stopping? I’ll offer you a thirteenth of an ounce of gold and a gently worn ‘Bob Barr ‘08’ extra-large long-sleeved men’s T-shirt!”

He turned. In his hand was a revolver that the Constitution said he had every right to own. He fired at me and missed. I pulled my own gun, put a quarter in it, and fired back. The bullet lodged in a U.S.P.S. mailbox less than a foot from his head. I shot the mailbox again, on purpose.

“All right, all right!” the man yelled, throwing down his weapon. “I give up, cop! I confess: I took the bitcoins.”

“Why’d you do it?” I asked, as I slapped a pair of Oikos™ Greek Yogurt Presents Handcuffs® on the guy.

“Because I was afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Afraid of an economic future free from the pernicious meddling of central bankers,” he said. “I’m a central banker.”

I wanted to coldcock the guy. Years ago, a central banker killed my partner. Instead, I shook my head.

“Let this be a message to all your central-banker friends out on the street,” I said. “No matter how many bitcoins you steal, you’ll never take away the dream of an open society based on the principles of personal and economic freedom.”

He nodded, because he knew I was right. Then he swiped his credit card to pay me for arresting him.

—    (via fishmech)

 :lulz: :mittens:

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