Look, I'm a beard guy, but I'm a half-assed beard guy. I don't have the committment required to hang on to the beard long-term anymore. I almost shaved the rascal off a week and a half ago, but instead I just trimmed the sides and left the goatee. But, now it's all gone and with it I shaved about 20 years off of my appearance. Bravisimo.
Emily's friend Nina has stopped by. They grew up together in the Pullman area; Nina went to Western, then moved to New Mexico for a spell. Now, she's here, staying in Emily's room. Ehh, the more the merrier I guess. What do I care? She seems cool enough.
As it stands, I already don't like our upstairs neighbors because they're loud, they stay up till all hours of the night, and they listen to fucking Journey. Now, I've gotta have this fucking dog running all around? I'm going to invest in some stinkbombs. Because, seriously, if this gets to a point where I'm being deprived of sleep because they're cunty fucking bitches with a stupid ass dog, I won't be afraid to go apeshit on their carpet-munching fucking asses.
OK, I got that out of the way, now that just leaves the Seahawks and My Computer. Both annoy me to no FUCKING end when once they were the treasures of my heart.
Look, I'm not gonna say much about a loss on the road against Chicago. I said it before: they have the best defense in football, we were slightly outmanned, and in big games our wide receivers like to pretend they're wearing mittens as they're catching the ball. Am I worried? Not a whole lot (I'll be a little more perturbed when we're 3-2 after a loss to St. Louis, because anyone who knows Seattle or Holmgren knows that both tend to lose the game after the BYE week). But, 37-6? We're supposed to be a Super Bowl team and we can only muster 6 points on the road? I don't care who you're playing, that's inexcusable, especially when you're a team who's supposed to be known for your awesome offense. Super Bowl teams don't get blown out 37-6, I don't care who you are. Marcus Trufant, what's the fuckin' deal? You're tossing some serious salad out there! And when did Rex Grossman become the second-coming of Joe Montana? Only, this would be Joe Montana without the Jerry Rice! He's making average receivers look good!
Finally, sometime between the end of my party and the hungover watching of Disney's "The Sword In The Stone" the following evening, my computer decided to run insanely sluggish. Pete's ominous initial analysis makes it sound like I'm suffering some harddrive failure. So, it's time to start putting shit to disc as quickly as possible. Tomorrow will do I guess.
Computers should NOT take over 10 minutes to finish booting up from the time you push the button to the time where everything's running. Computers should also play mp3s without skipping and stuttering. And, personally, I've never known a computer to use over 40 processes when you open the Task Manager, but maybe mine's just freakishly freakish. Either way, I'm kinda fucked and kinda looking at a trip to Comp USA in the very near future. Thankfully, I still have the warantee.
In the end, you know your weekend has just come to a crushing end when you're in the third bar of the evening, watching the Seahawks lose by 31, and instead of hearing Al Michaels and John Madden's dulcit tones, you hear music videos. I had to slag through The Trifecta Of Stupid (Plus One):
Jessica Simpson - A Public Affair (which is a BLATANT ripoff of Madonna's "Holiday")
Paris Hilton - Stars Are Blind
Sean Paul - (some damn song, they all sound the fucking same, they all have some female vocalist, and they all SUCK ASS)
Ashlee Simpson - Invisible (where she plays a female boxer, except she's too damn attractive to be a female boxer, in the end rendering her a female idiot)
I'm pretty sure these are the criteria necessary to create the perfect shitty country song. All I need to cap it off is a woman running off with my best friend, in my pickup truck, with the last can if Pringles. Alan Jackson, I think I've got a hit for you.