I used to get sir a lot when I wore a big wool coat. People really don't pay attention.

I had no access today to the one system that I absolutely have to have in order to do any part of my job and/or train the person taking over. They fail. I am billing them for 3 hours that I spent waiting around, notifying people and trying over and over to get access. Now I am going to get the TiVo cleaned off and get some stuff mailed.

Drinking Grown Up Soda ginger ale. Making me very burpy.

No one ever calls me sir.

One time when mr. flea and I were walking to work hand-in-hand wearing big coats, the nasty homeless woman on Calhoun said, "Good morning, faggots!" (Note, there were multiple homeless people on our commute most days, most of whom were pleasant-to-unobtrusive; this one woman was really nasty all the time.)

Were you guys walking woodenly?

Were you guys walking woodenly?

Or tinderly?

the nasty homeless woman on Calhoun

I was gonna ask -- which one?

(Note, there were multiple homeless people on our commute most days, most of whom were pleasant-to-unobtrusive; this one woman was really nasty all the time.)

But then I read this, and I'm glad they're not all nasty.

(I always liked the dude who would offer to tell you a joke for a buck. I mean, I like getting something for my money, and sometimes the jokes were even funny!)

Actually, I was wrong; that happened on Ludlow, right by the Graeter's. There was a young homeless woman who lived in the bus shelter on the corner with Clifton all winter that year, and it was damned cold.

Timelies, folks.

My first boyfriend thought I was a dyke at first, due to my short spiky hairstyle. This encapsulates how I became World's Champeen at NGA rather nicely.