Ok, I'm know I'm one for hystrionics and overdramitization, but I am literally, sitting at me desk, crying into my yoghurt.

A huge mess was made on our books. I didn't make the mess, yet I'm supposed to read the minds that did and come up with answers. I've told the person asking for this that I didn't make the mess, I wasn't involved in gathering the ingredients to make the mess, I have no idea what the logic behind the mess was. But for some reason, I'm still being held for responsible for the fixing this mess.

I am so damn frustrated, I can't do anything but sit here and cry.

Jilli and Pete, congratulations on the new kitties! Pete can loom (adorably) to keep them in line. (And Ruthven is pronounced "Rivven" right? from the "Verney the Vampire"?)

Ruthven is from "The Vampyre" by Poldori (Lord Byron's doctor). I ... actually don't know if it's supposed to be pronounced "Rivven". I've always pronounced it "Roothven", and no one has ever told me otherwise. Even if it is supposed to be "Rivven", I'm going to keep calling the new kitty "Roothven".

{{{Aims}}}

That's kind of how I felt yesterday when my bosses pulled a 180 on their stance from a month ago. "We have no memory of ever telling you that you could just use the same table format from another report, over and over and over. All we know is that you should not have done so, and now you must fix everything. Quickly. Now. Work over the weekend. Have fun! (By the way, why haven't you started working on the other reports? No, you don't have the data yet, and the timeline we agreed on doesn't have you starting for another week, but why should that stop you?)"

I ... actually don't know if it's supposed to be pronounced "Rivven". I've always pronounced it "Roothven", and no one has ever told me otherwise. Even if it is supposed to be "Rivven", I'm going to keep calling the new kitty "Roothven".

It's "Rivven." I know this because of Ruddigore.

Hmmm, I think Rivven sounds better though. It's gOthier. It's like being torn apart in raven black!

Of course, you can call your cat anything you damn well please.

Tzepesh...This inevitably tweaks my music brain into a conversation with Brock Sampson.

Me: You should check out the new White Stripes. Big Zep influence.
Brock: Tzepesh, eh?

{{Aimee}} That sounds like a dreadful situation.

Aha, so I was not crazy in my Ruthven pronunciation thinking! But I will defer to Jilli's preferences becqaue, you know, her cat, she can pronounce the name however she likes.

::does secret dance of rightness::

gets David's joke

laughs and laughs and laughs

gets carted off by men in white coats

Tzepesh...This inevitably tweaks my music brain into a conversation with Brock Sampson.

Does not get David's joke.

Decides this is what I will call Teppy someday, when I get to have too many drinks with her.

Does not get David's joke.

Let's make oblique VM references in response, so that one day in their memoirs they'll describe us as "inscrutable."

HINT: David's joke is a pun, the obscure cultural references are spurious.

Let's make oblique VM references in response, so that one day in their memoirs they'll describe us as "inscrutable."

Smurfs don't lay eggs! I won't tell you this again! Papa Smurf has a fucking beard! They're mammals!

Apparently this is the reward I get for years of screwing with super-science. In short, I pissed in God's eye - and He blinked.

Dean! Have you been shooting dope into your scrotum? You can tell me! I'm hip!

There is a television behind the El Greco. Sadly, the remote has vanished from the material sphere! So it's stuck on Animal Planet.

Dr. Girlfriend: Oh yeah, that guy is totally straight. I saw a whole thing about him on the VH1.
The Monarch: But he's the guy from Depeche Mode. It's impossible.

Dr. Venture: Oh, you don't know when to stop with all this, do you? You just keep pushing my buttons!
The Monarch: You're my arch-enemy! That's what I do! That's my thing!