Thursday Night sucked. My internet connection mysteriously went out at around 6pm. I called my ISP and told them I thought my modem was fried. Shortly after 10 Dave, the guy from Tech Support I had been on and off the phone with since 6, came to a conclusion. "Kevin," He said, "I think your modem is fried. Why don't we just set you up to get another one?"
I woke up early and was cranky. I did my usual morning things. Showered. Etc. Since it was pay day, I checked out my bank account.
I was expecting a hefty check because I had crammed a bunch of OT in the previous 2 weeks.
Welp...Check wasn't so hefty.
I got to work and discovered that I was going to have to work the crappy job.
When Ken(da boss and best friend combo) got in I asked him about my check...where it was revealed that he had screwed up...and well...forgot to pay me for 22 1/2 hours.
The day was just getting started.
I went to call my boss from our office phone. His phone number starts with 919...so I accidentally dialed 911(ofcourse). The police showed up a few minutes later and I had to explain to the officer what happened, as my bastard co-workers were laughing and snickering in the background.
Work was incredibly busy(I think we did 530 units), and since I was doing the crappy job, I was incredibly sore.
After work I went to my ISP and picked up my shiny new modem(I do have to admit, even during my bitch fest of a blog post, my new modem is pretty. It's a purpley blue colour.)
When I got home, I reset up all my internet stuff so I could checkada email and surfada web. Everything worked great, so I'm thinking maybe this Day From Hell was going to better then I had thought.
As I was checkading email and surfading the net the phone ran, so I gently put down my(READ: KEN'S) laptop on the stand and went to answer it. I put it down slightly off kilter and it fell over. I checked it over a little bit, but nothing seemed amiss...but I couldn't connect to the internet...again. It appeared to me that when it had fallen over the Ethernet cord had snapped. Not a huge deal, but didn't help my day out any.
Ken, Sean and I had gotten tickets to see Rob Zombie that night so away we went to Detroit to see Mr. House of a 1000 Corpses.
We got inside and the opening band was just horrible and cheesy. It was like every modern bad Heavy Metal band cliche rolled into on. They were European, looked like Korn, had a chick singer and a metal screamer guy, did WAY over the top hand gestures while they were "performing"(IE pointing to their eyes, then pointing to their hearts, then pointing to the crowd) and did the worst of the worst Metal thing of all...synchronized head banging. Can I vomit now?
The crowd at the show was a wee bit unruly(as is to be expected at a Rob Zombie show) and I decided that I didn't want to be anywhere near the pit for fear of getting killed and trampled. So I found a nice little spot, where I could see everything and be enough out of the way that I didn't have to worry about serious injury or loss of life.
The place I choose was near a railing and when Zombie took the stage the crowd kind of surged backwards for some reason...and since I was at the back against railing...guess where I got pinned?
So that kind of hurt, but the Zombie was good and I kind of got over it.
After the show, Sean and I bought bootlegged Tshirts of some guy in the street(I love bootleg shirts). When we got back to the car, Sean noticed that he had gotten his shirt a size too small. Ken drove back to the spot we bought the shirts from and Sean jumped out of the car to exchange the shirt with Bootleg Tshirt guy. As soon as he got out this massive spider crawled out from under his head rest(a sure sign demons were following me that day). I grabbed the thing(and could feel the crunch in my hand I might add) and went to throw it out the window...but for some reason, opened Ken's car door...which was caught by the wind. Did I mention we were parked next to a big metal garbage can? Yeah...doors and metal garbage cans don't mix real well.
After the show I went to talk to my mother. She was feeling lonely and talked me into going to the drug store with her. My mother is never the most pleasant person to deal with when she's tired. When she isn't getting what she wants and she's tired, she's a veritable she beast. Apparently the doctor hadn't written the OK for one of her prescriptions to be refilled. Mom decided to scream at the pharmacist...for 1/2 hour. Luckily, I stayed in the car...which is about when I noticed how bad my back was hurting.
After the trip(did I mention this was about 11:30-12ish?), Much to my surprise, I had giant black bar shaped bruises across my shoulders and mid-section. So much for the nice spot against the rails at the concert.
I don't do this often so take note:
FRIDAY APRIL 7, 2006...FUCK YOU!
Turns out I didn't snap the Ethernet cord. Nope. I snapped the port...which is attached right to the board on Ken's lappy...which would mean buying a brand new computer would be cheaper then getting it fixed.
Luckily, Ken didn't care. He's got all kinds of wireless toys that can remedy that issue.
So last weekend was the first time in about 4 years where the only internet connection I had was Dial Up.
Going back to Dial Up is akin from eating steak everyday the suddenly being forced to eat dog food.
Luckily, Ken likes to give me all his old wireless toys and he gave me one of his old routers and a USB antenna...but forgot the software. So I was on Dial Up from Saturday to Tuesday...and it sucked like nothing has ever sucked in the suckiest suck suck ever.
Ok, now this mini novel(bitch fest) is done.