fergie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- random Totally Random Tuesday Ur anus gets emotional Disco duck has nothing on this bird. "Perky grabbed national attention last week after a hunter's wife opened her refrigerator door and the supposedly dead duck lifted its head and looked at her." The story gets even oddly funnier because when the hunter's wife took the bird to the vet for treatment, it died on the operating table. Then Perky Lazarus sprang back to life again. Zombie foul? Student goes naked during lunch period; charged with inducing panic, public indecency, resisting arrest and disorderly conduct. Didn't streaking used to be, like, funny and stuff? I'm just curious to know at what point in time totally harmless pranks began to "induce panic." These kids are a bunch of pussies. Harry Potter and the Never Ending Magical Boner: That Harry Potter kid will appear nekked on stage in a play about horseback riding. Or something like horseback riding but far more inappropriate and sexually charged. Oh, and lurid in every sense of the word. Sounds like my kind of theatre. Except...he's only 17. Hey, just like that Winger song! 12:39 p.m. - Jan. 30, 2007 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- blogorrhea I have not been inspired to post here lately because this month has been a complete waste and there is absolutely no reason to further document how much everything sucks. The world is full of two kinds of people, assholes and morons, and I hate them all -- not YOU dear readers, never you -- just the 6,525,170,264 people who don't read this blog. Fuck them. Case in point: After being robbed at gunpoint and reporting the incident to Bank of America, they proceeded to send my ATM card to my old address with absolutely no security measures in place We tend to think of large corporations as faceless organizations devoid of personality, but let's face reality; these businesses are run by incompetent fucktards who don't know the first thing about anything. Come to find out, anyone, anywhere in the world can activate an ATM card by simply swiping it at a store. That's not to say the card can actually be used (because there weren't any charges made to my account), just that it has been activated. To be honest, I can't properly explain whatever the fuck happened because it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. All I know for sure is that someone illegally intercepted my card in the mail (a federal offense), was somehow able to activate the card (identity theft) didn't end up using the card to purchase anything, but even if they had they would never be caught because all the security measures in place are only there to keep members locked out of their own account. This idiocy trickles straight down to customer service, who can effortlessly explain exactly how your account and personal information has been compromised without the slightest indication that they realize the company they represent is completely at fault for having such ridiculously lax protocols in place. My point being, the reason banks suck is because the people who make the rules are idiot fuckwads. If you are employed by a bank I am sorry for you. You have to pay the bills somehow and are just doing your job, but you suck and I fucking hate you all. Unless you're a regular reader of course, because if you're down with me then obviously you're cool and smart and subversive and stuff. That being the case, I totally love and forgive you because I'm sure you hate your co-workers more than anyone on the outside possibly could, since we don't have to deal with them full-time, and I have faith you're fighting the monster from within the belly of the beast, making strides in the name of logic and reason every single day. Bless your heart. 9:43 a.m. - Jan. 26, 2007 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- release While in the stretchy room at the gym the other day I totally cut one and then gave the guy next to me a disgusted look so everyone else would think he did it. His look of embarrassment (for me) was obviously misconstrued as an admission of guilt and made a thoroughly convincing cover. There was an uncomfortable moment that followed. Everyone sort of half snickered to themselves (none more so than myself) and awkwardly avoided eye contact as they went on with their stretchy business. I wasn't about to leave the room until my scapegoat did, least he try to start truth talking. Sitting in a cloud of my own gas attack wasn�t the most pleasant experience but sometimes you really have to commit to a lie and just go with it. 5:50 p.m. - Jan. 16, 2007 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- stalker My date last night kept sniffing my head. No, that's not some kinky gay sex act and yes I mean the one on my shoulders. Supposedly my hair smells that good. I guess that could be true but more likely he�s some wacky stalker type secretly harvesting strands of my hair with his nasal passages. Later, when I'm chained to a wall in some deserted underground storage lot dressed in a tutu with peanut butter spread over the bottom of my feet, I'll find a homemade Fergie doll with a brittle clump of stolen follicles glued to his tiny head. 1:39 p.m. - Jan. 12, 2007 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- glam Dedicate the next 10 minutes of your life to this ultimate "how to" on glamour and beauty, you won't regret it! 2:03 p.m. - Jan. 10, 2007 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- suckit Customer Service Heifers Can Fucking Lick My Balls This week I'm just trying to get all my shit back on track and recover my losses after being robbed, like my re-direct deposit my paycheck to my new bank account and make the same correction for the various automatic payments I've set up to pay bills. Whenever some customer service heifer gives me the runaround with their annoying inhuman doubletalk (basically every phone call I've made) I'm all "someone put a gun to my face, took all my shit and derailed my personal life -- it would be a lot easier to deal with this bullshit if you weren't such a bitch. I have to start over from scratch, it's your job to help me and that's what is going to happen today, right now, and neither one of us have a choice about it." Swear to G-d it works like a charm. 4:36 p.m. - Jan. 09, 2007 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- muggled Police are scared of guns too After being robbed at gunpoint in front of my new home late last night, the officer taking my report was shaking more than I was once being informed that some big black guy with a gun was running loose in West Hollywood. My impression is they don't get that very often around these parts. I'm sure he must have also been a bit chilly. The Southern California weather was very crisp and he wasn�t wearing a jacket. I'VE BEEN MUGGLED! -- Wallet: ID, checkcard, $20 cash, gym pass, ralphs club card; checkbook, bills, court documents, some pills, half a joint, two of my favorite pens, Calvin Klein reading glasses, cosmetic bag (lotion, rice paper, toothbrush/paste, etc), driving gloves (for that cold, ultra early a.m. commute to work), security ID for the studio lot and perhaps worst of all my cell phone! Oh, and the single strap, tan canvas man bag all that crap was in. I really need those reading glasses, too. My eyesight is just fine unless something is directly in front of my face. I was able to make out the gun being pointed at me even in the dark quite clearly, however. Another group of people were hit just down the block but nobody we hurt. As best as I've been able to piece together what actually happened, it seems that a group of about four ruffians double parked their car before letting at least one armed passenger off to troll up and down the block and rob people at gunpoint before jumping back in the vehicle and taking off. I stupidly entered somewhere in the middle, so oblivious to my surroundings and secure with the thought of living in Gayville -- where supposedly the worst thing that can happen is a double coyote hook up -- that I parked my car and basically walked into an armed robbery in progress. Even in a supposedly well-light, heavy traffic neighborhood, I was unaware that anyone else had been robbed until I saw multiple cruisers parked up and down the block in the evening's aftermath. About five squad cars were parked up and down my street, with officers kind of milling around talking to various people while (I assume) patrols searched for the bad guys. Maybe an hour or so passed before most of them took off in a mad dash after the assailants were reportedly seen PARKED JUST AROUND THE CORNER but I've heard nothing from the police today. Being a mindless victim is totally ego deflating. Then again, before last night I honestly couldn't imagine someone walking up and putting a gun in my face right in front of my home. My affluent gay home. The one with the police station literally just one block south. I've never felt safer or more secure than I do right now. I mean sure, at any minute some random stranger can openly violate me, but the chances of it happening again outside my own door must to be akin to being struck by lightning. At least that's my theory because I'm going out tonight and getting shitty. When I stumble back home in the wee hours of the night/early morning I'm gonna be so belligerent and dead instead of shocked and compliant if some asshole tries that shit again. 6:32 p.m. - Jan. 06, 2007 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- JAN-07 People are so fucking dumb it hurts Ghost Riding is a relatively new motor trend that involves the driver of a vehicle exiting while it is still in motion and dancing on the hood or roof. I shouldn't have to say more than that, really. Honestly, what kind of half-brained fuck wit would attempt such a stunt? Not even cartoon characters get away with idiot bullshit like this. Predictably, Ghost Riding most often concludes with a crash and bodily injury. So far, two deaths have attributed to this fascinating masterstroke. That seems like an unfortunately low body count to me. 1:57 p.m. - Jan. 05, 2007 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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