As I wrote previously, my PC up and died a while back. I replaced it pretty quickly and cheaply with a much better model with a big honkin' hard drive (120GB). I know, of course, I would never need a drive that big I just wanted it. My new system was not without issues however. For a couple of months I had no sound. I finally managed to dope out the problem (no thanks to you scabby bastards, the SOS I put out leading to no help at all - I'm kidding. A couple of people answered they were just the wrong answers). As it turns out, my sound issues had to do with downloading the correct drivers for the included sound card and then going in and "telling" my computer, as well as all my media players (Windows, Quicktime, etc.) to use the new sound card. Problem solved. Two months later.
The second problem I had was that because my PC died and wasn't euthanized, I didn't get the opportunity to import whatever files and programs I wanted to save from my old hard drive. My intent was to install the old hard drive into my new system, use some of my old programs, and have 40GB of extra storage space that I would never, ever need to use. But I had a devil of a time getting my old drive out of the box. And then my new PC didn't have any pre-installed drive bays for me to use. As I was researching buying drive bays or bay rails from computer supply stores I found this way cool alternative. $65 dollars later I was skeptical but hopeful. The setup instructions couldn't have been easier, literally plug and play. My computer "saw" the "new" drive instantly. I was able to access all my old information and programs. EGAD! Except my pictures. Which was what this was all about. I had in fact backed up some of my pictures to disk. But not all. Actually a fraction of what I had. I searched all my files but was having no luck. That's when I happened across my Picasa software. I remembered that launching Picasa would search my hard drive and sure enough, the damn shit searched everything and found all my precious pix. All my naked boys and men. All my favorite cumshots captured as they happened. Even some black and white Coney Island pix I forgot I had but adore. I'll be spending the next few days backing up said precious pix and deleting all the duplicate information I'm carrying. Lesson learned.
I came home from the gym and had a fight with The Hellcat. Yesterday was my day off (my next one being Sunday). In addition to jerking off to online porn, I spent part of my afternoon cleaning the kitchen. Coffee was spilled inside the microwave as well as on top of the refrigerator. More coffee was spilled onto the dish rack. The dish rack I had cleaned two days ago. That's totally The Hellcat. He was sleeping on the couch "recovering" from a hangover. I had to endure a recounting of his drunken night and how he "almost used". Yeah, let's talk about you again. There's a new subject.
So you can imagine how pleased I was when I returned home to see that the kitchen basket that's usually up on the wall had been knocked off. And the dog piss next to the garbage can (from when The Hellcat left his dog alone overnight, and free to roam the apartment, even though we've all agreed he needs to be put into the bedroom where he's way more reluctant to shit or piss) was still there from last night. I inquired what happened and was told that the on-again off-again boyfriend had knocked it down and it would be fixed "tomorrow". That did it.
"It's always tomorrow with you. What else are you gonna do tomorrow?"
"Why are you being such a bitch?"
"How about you forget tomorrow and fix it today? How about you clean up the dog piss on the kitchen floor that's been there all day?"
The fight got much bigger and I basically told him I was sick of living in filth and I was sick of his empty promises to do (insert anything here) tomorrow.
I'm a bitch because I'm sick of spending what little free time I have cleaning up after a grown man with no job and no responsibilities who expects that everyone is going to walk around on eggshells because a fucking addict went out and got liquored up and caused havoc and now isn't feeling well? Fuck that shit. Your friend/boyfriend whatever came into my home and knocked something off the wall. Fix it. Right now. Have some respect for me and my things. I've given you a safe, comfortable place to live and even arranged to have it funded by the state. I don't expect gratitude just a modicum of consideration. I like my home to be clean and orderly. I'm not a nut about it, just try to play along. Asshole.
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