I will get even.
I have a very good memory for basic trivia like your online handle and your mom's name.
You don't practice very good information hygiene, and when you were desperate and when you were trying to start a business, you put all your contact information out on the web where it can be Googled. Like, in public.
You were a rat bastard to My Virtual Nephew.
Congratulations, yet another set of bill collectors know where to look to start finding your valid information.

I think I've managed to convince him that he won't scare me off. He has not quite yet managed to convince me that I won't scare him off. I'm a far more confident person than I was at the beginning of all this, but I still find myself all whisperquiet around him and his family when I'm not quite sure of myself.

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I put stickers on my phone goons' monitor reports, to dress them up a little and make them sparkle if they're good. As one of the four sisters was leaving, I noticed that she was wearing the sticker on her forehead. That made me smile.

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Fresh cubed pineapple makes a very good breakfast.

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Non-monogrammed Earth equivalents of the butterbug do not make a healthful addition to a good breakfast. Seems that a local had wandered in under the crack in the door, and decided that my computer repair toolkit case (lying under a clutter of papers) made a really great bughouse. When I decided today to declutter some while waiting for mail to load on this thing (Allegra is a steady little computer, but slow), I disrupted it. There was scuttering. There was shrieking. There was marching over to the wastebasket with the toolkit case and doing some firm dumping. Bug went into wastebasket. Screwdriver went into wastebasket. Screwdriver was gingerly fished out. Bag was marched down to the dumpster post-haste, with live butterbug still inside. It will enjoy its new home far more until trash day.

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The bag of flour that has been sitting on the counter awaiting putting away like forever? Finally put away. Hooray for Doing Stuff.

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Was interrupted by a call from some bill collectors. They were looking for a certain disagreeable ex-roommate who has made himself singularly hard for his creditors to find. I do not think that he was counting on me being very cooperative with the bill collector, looking for his mom's number (I do not have it anymore, alas), and telling the lady what to Google on. And gee, guess what she found? Current contact info.

Moral to this story? Do not piss me off, or I will assist the oncoming Karma. (However, when your presence is a joy to me, I will do my best to bring joy into your life too.)

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I am not scheduled back at work until Thursday.

I shared this one with the aunts, and they found it disturbing and then funny.


Once upon a time, when a little boy wasn't doing as he should, the Parent-in-Charge (more or less) finally threatened the boy that either he should do as told, or the Parent-in-Charge would cut off the head of the boy's teddy bear.

The boy screamed back that he didn't care, and he still wouldn't do as told.

The Parent-in-Charge perhaps wisely didn't follow through on the threat.


... This was perhaps one of said Parent-in-Charge's last actions as parent of the child, as the child's biological parent summarily ended the relationship and revoked all quasi-parental rights (which had been given him by custom, not by law) and left post-haste with child in tow, within the next week.

Figment came over last night to help move stuff. This was a good thing, because I started majorly freaking out. I tend to do that.

Sis and the gang came over a little earlier this morning, and she found that there had been a hole punched out of her wall. Punched, because it's fist-shaped. She did not do that. I did not do that. The Little Fayoumis did not do that (it's at the wrong height, he lacks the arm strength, and it's too big to be his). It had been covered over with a picture, the one picture that marxdarx had not taken down. She called him about it, and he denied having done it.

And that, of course, has severed ties between him and us entirely. It could have been no one else.

Most of everything is moved, except for a few little odds and ends here and there, and the last of the essential stuff that involves the phone line and the shower. I'm exhausted, dead on my feet, but still moving things and myself. It'll get done.

Darkside is excused from It's Your Duty As A Best Friend To Help Move; What Kind Of Friend Are You?? because of his help last weekend above and beyond the call of duty at the expense of my cordless phone's battery.