I was about to cancel today’s scheduled post until I realized that it was holiday-themed and featured Tammy, whose birthday is today. The only times I’d have fun at staff parties was with her. I’m glad she slid out of the womb all these years ago so that she could be my plus one and more!
What I like about the less distant throwback posts is how the writing isn’t any different from my current stuff. My personality had been established, whereas the posts I wrote as a teenager were sociopathic and somewhat unpleasant to re-read. Empathy changes a person.
I still don’t enjoy doing Christmassy stuff at work. I agreed to bring cookies next Tuesday because I want people to like me, and the cookie recipe will make people forget about my otherwise bah humbug attitude. I’ll wait until Christmas Sweater Day to disappoint them by wearing a tasteful sweater.
Anyway, could you’ve guessed the below post was written ten years ago if I hadn’t mentioned it?
Although my former domain, lkvy.com, had been killed off by 2009, I switched to LiveJournal for a few years. When I realized that the last of my friends had abandoned their LiveJournal accounts, I started using Flickr as a photo journaling platform, adding titles and descriptions to every photo uploaded. That is until Flickr changed their layout to hide the titles and descriptions. I agree that the current layout is more aesthetically pleasing, but it was hiding all the work I had put into curating my life. Fuck!
Oh, and, despite uploading atrocities like this, my Flickr collection has more than half a million views. It’s baffling. But! I’m finally uploading the rest of my 2019 Patagonia trip photos. I think all the photos from the Valdes Peninsula portion of the trip are up now. So, you can ohh and ahh at them after you read something I wrote on my LiveJournal eight years ago.
I don’t know when I’ll receive the new bike or whether I’ll have all the parts ready to build it once it arrives, but I thought it’d be fun to post my Masi for sale online and watch the fish nibble. I don’t see myself doing any major rides until the spring, and I’d still have my Ridley.
Unfortunately for potential buyers, bargaining with me is like bargaining with The Soup Nazi.
Why do people think I should lower my asking price because the bike isn’t exactly what they were looking for? Want a bike with disc brakes? Then you’re looking at the wrong ad! I don’t go to a coffee shop, buy a cookie and go, “Actually, I really wanted a donut. Could you give me a discount on this cookie to compensate for my disappointment?”
NO MASI FOR YOU!
I already need a break from those people, so I’ve deleted the ad. I’m personally using the “you get what you pay for” approach with a handbuilt frame, custom paint job, and individual components so that my bike will be exactly how I want it. The Horse will make the Masi redundant, but I still love the Masi enough that I’d sooner keep it than sell it below my asking price to some annoying tit.
When I sold a bong via Craigslist years ago, I had no qualms about selling it to a teenager as she was prompt and polite. I hope she’s had wonderful times with that bong and that it didn’t lead to a life of indecency or asthma. All that’s to say, I’m just not cash-hungry.
In further impending news, the landlord has requested entry to inspect the bedroom window, as the seals might’ve gotten damaged from the neighbouring fire. This means someone’s going to see the hunk of plastic (climbing training board) above the doorframe and think, “What the fuck?” Then they’ll paddle us, as landlords are wont to do, for Swiss cheesing their building.
I may provide distraction by placing nudes along the baseboard. Or does it matter? The melted window seals are the issue here.
To polish off today’s post, I have a Throwback post that was requested by Gator after she re-read the one I posted two weeks ago. Although I hadn’t edited any of the previous Throwback posts, this one made me feel embarrassed 17 years late. I don’t think I like who I was pre-2005, but I’m glad Gator did and that I didn’t die inside her gothy 1984 Grand Prix.
I’ve been working on a documentary recap, but until that’s done, I only have the pandemic to talk about. I think everybody is tired of reading about that.
So, for today, I have an update from 2006 I wrote when I also didn’t have anything to write about. This is about the time I was forced to take a month of Music class in elementary school. If you’re new here, I’m deaf.