I like gypsy moths and radio talk...

I am so utterly sick of hopping back and forth between furious anger to the point that my hands itch to hurt someone and desperate sadness that makes me wish I'd just go to sleep and never wake up again.  I never thought I'd say it but I almost miss being medicated up to my fucking eyeballs.

Easing back in...

Some of you may know that I have a problem remembering people's names.  Not a problem like you have to tell me twice, a problem like you might tell me everyday for 2 weeks and I still won't know it tomorrow.  It's very odd and I really don't understand it because my memory in other areas is strangely good.

Anyway, I realized there's hardly anyone at work I call by their real name.  So for a lark I'm going to make a list of things I call people at work instead of their actual names (in some cases I still don't know their names and I've been there for over nine months now and in a couple of cases I figured out their names but refuse to use them):

-Pod Ken
-Chuckish - He was hired 2 months ago.  They introduced me to him and as soon as he walked away I asked what his name was.  Someone said, "Chuck?  Ish?" so now he's Chuckish.  His name might not even be Chuck.  I wouldn't know.
-Wackenfuss Lafayette  - This one makes no sense.  The guy goes by his initials.  Two letters and I couldn't remember it.  This mouthful of silly however I couldn't forget if I wanted to.
-White Ninja
-Bark-a-lee
-Food Santa - Because Food Santa
-Pockets
-Rain Man
-Chim Chim - Because he's an irritating fucking monkey.
-Squirrelly - This guy, for sure, will be on the news soon because they will find cut up lady parts in his freezer.  No bullshit.
-Anorexic Clint
-Fancy Pants - There are pants involved.  They are quite fancy.
-Douchenbacher
-Fluffy Puppy Rainbows
-Honky Ass Cracker
-Cracker Ass Honky - Note the difference.
-Fuckin'...*points at the guy* - It's become a thing.  His name is officially Fuckin' a short pause and then a pointing motion.

What is wrong with my brain?

I'd like to say it's abnormal behavior...

So I called a guy a dickhead at work.  Not the way people usually do it, he was right there when I said it.  Well, technically I called him a fucking dickhead.  He didn't have much to say in response.  I wonder why?

Likely not a premature burial

As always on this day in Baltimore, people gathered for a glimpse of the Poe Toaster.  For the second year in a row he did not come.  It looks as though a tradition has died and while I'm usually not one to support traditions as a whole, the end of this one makes me sad.

For those who may not know, heathens in other words, since 1949 (at least) in the wee hours every January 19th a man would appear in Westminster Hall and Burying Ground dressed in black wearing a wide brimmed hat and scarf and leave three roses and an open bottle of cognac on Poe's grave.  This year four different fakes (Faux Toasters) came but they were clearly not the real deal.  I have to think that since his last appearance was on the 200th anniversary of Poe's birth that was the predetermined stopping point for the tradition and that it is truly dead.  It's hard to explain why this is a sad thing.  Maybe because there's a little less mystery in the world now and that is always a bad thing.

Whatever the reason, we'll never forget you Edgar.  Happy birthday you wonderfully twisted man.