The Goldfish's Logbook

So since my costume probably won't be making it to Ikki, I've been concentrating on getting this TB commission out the door, this being my 4-day weekend and all. It stunk; Friday I went into the office just to turn in my timesheet, but somehow got roped into a whole day of work. Bleh. About 4 pm, I'm thinking, "What the hell am I still doing here? I haven't even eaten today. I was supposed to be in and out in ten minutes!"
The last task of the day had me at the university. . . .
I've decided that for my own good, I should not be allowed on university grounds anymore. Even though it's (supposedly) winter, all I could see was . . . firm, tan, supple, young flesh everywhere! Oh man. Trying to concentrate on my job, I was all, "God, give me the strength! I am but a weak man, don't test me!" All the while, the other concrete guys, laborers, foremen, etc are just watching the scenery pass by with mild grins on their faces. So yeah, I shouldn't go to the university anymore. Too much eye candy, my brain doesn't work right in those situations. Heck, for that matter, I shouldn't go to cons anymore. That's even worse. "What? She's half my age?!? Where are her parents? Somebody make her put some clothes on! I can go to jail just for talking to her, or hell for even less than that! I gotta get outta here!" If only there were some sort of blinders I could wear . . .
So Saturday was all about cosplay. Bought some caffeinated, sugar-nated soda to fuel my marathon. Didn't help much since I spent half the day working on something that ultimately didn't pan out. Pfft. Went to go see "Smokin' Aces" midday to break the monotony. It was pretty fun. Very much like a Guy Ritchie (?) film, except swap a little of the comedic zaniness for a bit of cleverness (if that makes sense). I liked all of the assassins. Maybe my fave scene? The reflection of the Blade's face in the elevator doors. That was a nice touch. After the movie I dropped off the first batch of TB stuff to Ever, then got started on the rest.
Today, I'm kinda burnt out on TB. Tired of looking at the same stuff. So I misbehaved and worked on my Slade for awhile. Here's something I learned. Roofing membrane looks better than vinyl. Doesn't wrinkle and it can stop a blade too. Oh yeah! Thank you Wal-Mart for all your high-quality leftovers.
Ha ha. One fun thing: I needed straws for this ghetto TB stuff. I don't like using these random materials, but the commission is for free and I have no time to do it in. Anyways, I have straws, somewhere in this apartment. A whole box. Spent like an hour looking for it. Could not find them. Even though I wasn't hungry, I figure, "I'll go to Jack-in-the-Box. They've got good straws. Good, fat, straws. I'll steal em!" But once I got there, for some reason, I could not pinch them. I mean, I've stolen/shoplifted before. I've got at least a level 2 Thief skill. Small stuff like this is a piece of cake. But it was as if I had hooves or something; I could not make those straws disappear. "Don't mind me Mr. Cashier, I just really like hanging out near this soda fountain! Doo de doo!" It was ridiculous. I got em, but I think the cashier just let me go out of pity for my . . . lose-itude.

This time she crossed the line.
One of the many times I was driving in and out of the job site today, there happened to be a woman powerwalking on the sidewalk across the street. I barely glanced, but on the butt of her red sweatpants it said "PINK".

PINK . . . . . PINK!

That was too much. I didn't mind the pants that say "Hot" or "Sweet" or whatever. It's coy, it's cute, it's suggestive innuendo, whatever. But "PINK"? That ain't cute, that's just vulgar. Did she have another pair of pants that says "SHAVED"? Or "JUICEBOX?" Why not have a pair of pants that just says "VAGINA"? Just in case there happens to be someone who wasn't quite sure what was on the other side of that piece of fabric.
Why you women gotta make it so hard? (Hee hee, he said "hard". Shut up.) Us men are naturally hardwired to wanna boink every woman we encounter. It takes conscious effort to suppress those instincts and try to be a decent human being, to respect you as a person, not as a sexual object, to treat you fairly and equally. But here you come out of left field, advertising your honey pot. I may wear clothes and have a college degree, but at my core I'm still just an animal whose reason for existence is to breed and pass on my genes. I can be one or the other, human or animal. But don't ask me to be both; that just pits one head against the other.
You don't see guys wearing shorts that say "Throbbing" or "Rock-hard" or "3 inches". No, you don't And I know you wouldn't put up with that kind of behavior from us. That is total BS.
Sometimes I wish I were a eunuch, then I wouldn't give a damn and all of this would seem so silly to me.

P.S. Actually, I've never wished to be a eunuch. That is a total lie.