So...So much for daytime posting.
Anyway, last night I was beat because I was "trying new things" which in this case means "not sitting on my ass watching obscure old cartoons" Instead I went with a boy-person to a bar thingy in a delightfully sketch neighborhood called Propaganda. The bar, I mean. The neighborhood was actually the same place where I had my Howley's Adventure. Anywhoo, it was fun and I actually didn't get carded for the first time since I turned 21. I'd like to say it's because I have become a pillar of grace and maturity, but it probably has more to do with my new haircut...and the fact that it's not pink anymore. So at least some good came of that.
Anyway, we came to see these bands play and stuff, and in true band fashion, they were an hour and a half late to start playing. Not to arrive mind you, they'd been there since ages, just not doing much of anything. Also, I have forgotten to mention that this place was CRAWLING with amusingly-hatted, vest-wearing, sideburn-sporting, heavily-eyeliner'd, Pabst Blue Ribbon-chugging HIPSTERS.
So yeah, I think we were the only ones in there without a massive can of cheap, tasting-heavily-of-wee PBR. I saw one girl with a funny-looking headband holding a wineglass of all things and got excited...only to discover that she was in fact, pouring Pabst Blue Ribbon into her wineglass. Yeah. So the band we saw is called Viva Le Vox, they all had silly hats, one had a top hat and a massive beard and another had crazy eyes and fingerless gloves and played the accordion until about mid-way into their set, after which he switched to a washboard. They were like the mutant lovechild of hipster, rockabilly and just plain hillbilly. But they actually weren't all that bad. My phone died before I could take a video, but thanks to Youtube, you too can experience being in a smoky bar filled with drunk people listening to a man play a washboard:
They have since acquired far sillier hats and a much less insane looking giant-cello player.
Lastly: There was only one stall in the ladies bathroom, which was lame. But while I was standing there doing my Bladder Desperation Dance (there's a lot of flailing involved), the stall door swung open and two rather somber looking girls with heavy eye-makeup stumbled out. Which was weird. Because rather than being all "we're drunk and fooling around in the bathroom while others need to pee and risk busting some vital pee-related artery, tee-hee!" They looked like they'd been conducting a funeral in the stall. So go figure.
All in all, it was fun, except that I had to wash my hair twice so I no longer smelled like an ashtray.
As for today's adventures, I have absconded with my boss's fish.
I suppose I can't just leave it at that, can I? My boss while I'm temping is also my mom's boss regularly. She's a bit scattered, flaky, ADHD mixed with a good snort's worth of cocaine. Let's call her Ted. Not for any real reason, it just amuses me. Anyway, the other day Ted got a betta fish at some flea market thing, and has since left it in her office to die. This poor creature is directly under an air vent in a cold office, hasn't had her water changed in a week and is pale and sad looking and also was not getting fed on weekends. But Ted really didn't give a crap, or at least couldn't focus on it for more than ten seconds before getting distracted by something shiny and maybe I'm being mean but how would you like it if your boss treated you like a dog with a head injury, always like "c'mon! c'mon! Make copies and then it's time for walkies!" while an innocent fish dies a slow death right in front of her?
So I stole the fish. I don't think she'll notice. She's not even going to be in until Monday. Who would've fed the fish? Exactly. So now the fish is here, in a new bowl with clean water and it's name has been amended from Princess to Princess Iron Fan, because I'm on a Chinese Mythology kick.
And that is that.
Before I go, know that there will be no update tomorrow or Christmas. It's my holiday time (said the atheist jew, but who's keeping track?). So Happy Winter-time Festivities and I'll see you on Sunday! This is Sugary Cynic, playing the washboard with reckless abandon. 'Night!
Me: "So hipsters..."
Ryan: "Live up to the stereotype pretty much exactly"