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Dear New Britain,

I hate you. I hate you so much. Of all the places I have ever lived, none has been as disgusting, crime-infested, cliquish or shit-stained as you. I can only hope that if there's a nuclear holocaust, you go first, and are bombed so bad you look like the surface of the moon when they're done.

You have a pervasive smell - I don't know if it's smog or more decomposing bodies behind the Subway on Hartford Rd. But it's there. And it makes me want to gag.

Batterson Pond, or lake, or whatever, was once a nice body of water. Now it's so clogged with garbage I can't believe people can still catch fish in there.

Watching your D.O.T. try and plow the roads in the winter is like watching a retarded child try to tie his shoes. It's just sad, and futile. It's snow, you assholes. You push it out of the way, onto the side of the road, and cars can go through. You don't LEAVE IT IN CLUMPS RIGHT UNDER THE STOPLIGHTS FOR PEOPLE TO GET STUCK IN.

I also like how to participate in any community events or get anything out of this town you need to speak Polish or Spanish. I speak neither. Thus, I am a gigantic outsider, so any possible upsides to this hellhole are lost on me.

Let's get to the point, though. I just had my car broken into for the second time in four months. Stereo gone. What, so you can have twenty extra dollars to get hiiiiigh, man? At least this time a small back window was broken and the stereo was surgically removed. Last time the junkies smashed my front driver's window and ripped the stereo right out of the dash. This was in March, too, and I got bronchitis from driving around with no window. Well, thank you this time, low-lifes, for being considerate. I hope when you O.D. from the smack you buy from selling my stereo, it's relatively fast and painless.


When I lived in Cromwell this happened *once* and the police actually came out to my apartment to take the report. Here, they take it over the phone since they're too busy with people being shot and raped and selling drugs and gang-banging.

Burn up and die, New Britain. You're a blight on this state and an embarrassment to us all. Your baseball team is even "special." If you lose a game to another crappy minor league team and are over fifteen runs behind them, just give up and go cry.

The time I've spent living within your borders has been dark and dreary. I've had it.

I'm thinking of breaking my lease and moving to Plainville. I think I can afford it there, and it can't be as bad as this town. And I think after bodies being found and raging crime, all of you living here should consider it, too. Let's just let this sinkhole implode upon itself.



x-posted to the CT lj community.

Current Location: The worst town in Connecticut
Current Mood: angry ripping furious

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Take the Transformers Quiz
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So today Eliot had his wisdom teeth yanked from his head. I was pretty worried about how it would go, since his teeth have been giving him so much trouble over the past few months.

Turns out he didn't even fall asleep for the surgery. I came into the recovery room and he was lying there like some strung-out junkie, his face stuffed full of cotton. They showed him his yanked teeth, which were disgusting, but he looked at them like they were the Holy Grail. Ah, drugs! The nurse told me he probably wouldn't remember even seeing the teeth.

I'm really enjoying having a mellow day with him, though. He's gotten by just fine on just Advil, thank goodness - I don't want him to have to take the Vicodan. We've played Warcraft and Silent Hill and watched this CREEPY documentary on guys who have RealDolls. Warning: some parts NWS.

The best part was when he was conked out in the bed holding Softimus Prime. So adorable!

Current Mood: sleepy sleepy

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I got this from Eliot. I don't know if I can hit one hundred, but I can try.
You didn't know...?Collapse )

Current Mood: indescribable introspective

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I bought Barricade today and he has a gimpy left arm.

Eliot and I are pretending he had a robot-stroke.

But I'm sad and all cranky about it. And I am cranky BECAUSE I am cranky about it.

Current Mood: cranky cranky

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I have been in a wonderful, loving relationship with Eliot for the past year. I love him like the ocean loves the sand. But whenever he talks about Transformers, I shut down emotionally. I mean, come on. They're for babies. You might even say that they're Playskool baby toys. Look at all that cheap orange plastic! I'm 24 years old! All my toys had better be made out of electronics and Warcraft. Not to mention the fact that the movie was a stupid waste of film. HORSES DIED TO MAKE GELATIN, WHICH IN TURN WAS USED TO MAKE THE FILM BASE FOR THAT FILM. THIS WAS NOT A GOOD USE OF A HORSE'S LIFE.

On a completely unrelated note, Eliot and I were at Target today getting food and stuff for our very mature weekend. I was pushing my cart down the toy aisle, because it was the fastest way to get to the Ensure and Geritol, when this strange thing just fell into my cart. It was... this strange, mysterious machine! It wasn't worth ten dollars to lean down and take this new item out of my cart, so I rang it up and took it home.

It appeared to be a small yellow Camaro. I took it out of its packaging, examined it, tweaked it and poked at it, and MY GOD! It somehow magically changed into a robot! This intrigued me and I decided that not only would it look good on the mantle, but that I should bring it with us to the hotel to examine it further.

After changing the strange device from car to robot and back again about forty-seven times, I came to the conclusion that this was not a toy. No. This was an adult collectible. I showed the device to Eliot, who said, "This is a Transformer. This is Bumblebee. Remember? We saw him in the movie, and you cried when he got frozen." I proceeded to slap Eliot right across the face for making this vicious accusation. I hate Transformers! I don't own one! I just have this small robot to play with while I'm waiting for my Warcraft characters to finish flying across continents.

I am now entertaining the idea of purchasing another non-Transformer adult collectible, notably Barricade. This way, Barricade and Bumblebee can have a very adult, totally kickass fight on my desk.

I don't play with toys. I'm an adult. Transformers are for babies.

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Current Mood: amused amused

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I'm finally done with school, which is a godsend, and passed all my Praxis exams. Unfortunately that means a summer back at Wal-Mart. It would mean a summer donning the Blue Vest of Shame, except for the fact that Wal-Mart, Inc. is now implementing a dress code - tan/khaki pants and a dark blue shirt. It sounds an awful lot like Target, which requires a red shirt and khakis. I think Wal-Mart is trying to up their image by ripping off Target, because everyone knows Target is higher end and far less trashy then Wal-Mart. I think it's beyond just apparel, though. Let's look at other ways Wal-Mart can improve its image:

1) Drop all the religious right bullshit. You wouldn't believe how many Jesus-related stuff I see in there. And not like, loving Jesus. We're talking fire and brimstone Jesus. I have no qualms with Christianity, but in this progressive society, secularism is key. Or, at least an embrace of all religions. I have yet to see a menorah or the like in a Wal-Mart.

2) Bring in some new, hip designers who have been prominently featured on this or that TLC reality show. I'm thinking retro colors and concentric squares. Everywhere.

3) Get a better mascot than an old, dead man from Arkansas with a trucker hat. Or at least paint Sam Walton's corpsified face. "Look! It's a blue W on his eye! How cute and funny!"


5) No more Rascals. Make the fatties get out and walk.

6) This is crazy, but they could, y'know, clean the store once in a while and pay their workers a living wage.

Speaking of Wal-Mart, I was at the one in my town, picking up the new mandated Wal-Mart dress code items, when an old woman walks up to me and starts talking to me in Polish. I looked at her like she was from the moon, and she repeated whatever she said. I continued to stare blankly. She then says, thankfully in English, "Polish?" Please note that I do not look Polish at all. I look like what I am, a hybrid between English, German and Native American. (However, since the two majorities in my town are Polish people and Puerto Ricans, she must have assumed that since I most definitely do not look Puerto Rican, chances are I was Polish.) So I said, "No, sorry." I luckily was able to help her out - she was looking for the price on a price tag - so everyone won, sort of.

Ah, Wal-Mart! As Stephen King wrote on the very last page of The Stand, "Life was such a wheel that no man could stand upon it for long. And it always, in the end, came round to the same place again."

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Current Mood: ecstatic ecstatic
Current Music: Eliot is playing StarCraft behind me

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This pisses me off. Not because they found new footage. Oh no. That's stellar, although that doesn't look like Jackie, for some reason. It's that they still insist on calling Oswald the "assassin." The man was never brought to trial! He's "alleged" at best.

We have a justice system, people. *grumbles*

Current Mood: bored bored
Current Music: In class

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I woke up... I think it was yesterday. Yeah, yesterday. It was 10 AM and we were supposed to meet my parents for lunch. I felt like I was going to barf, but we went out to Beijing Garden anyway. It was enjoyable save for me having to bolt outside once to get fresh air because I thought I was going to lose my lo mein. But it was worth it.

Over the course of the day, Eliot was complaining of a neckache/headache, which I can sympathize with completely, having thrown out my own neck a few times. I gave him a hot compress and some Advil and we went about our day.

Now, we've been working on starting a guild on WoW, so we were recruiting people, which turned into this gigantic controlled chaos of an RP session. There were evil rings. And werewolves. And demons. And my character went bugshit and had to be knocked out. It was physically and mentally exhausting.

We finally stopped the session at about 2 AM, and Eliot stumbled off to bed, saying he needed to try and get comfortable. I played in Outland for an hour after that (hooray for the bombing missions!), and decided to come in and check on him. I climbed into bed, which woke him up. This was not good.

He was confused and incoherent, pale and shaking. I tried to play the part of the calm person here, which was hard because I was scared. Headaches + confusion is not good. I ended up calling my mom, who told me to call an ambulance for him, but we decided against that. I bundled him up, threw him in the car, and drove to the ER.

Of course we waited for an hour before they saw us (Eliot getting more incoherent as time went by), and then another half hour in the exam room, when a stout female doctor with long white hair and no scrubs (she was wearing an outfit you'd see on a kindergarten teacher) comes in, examines him, and tells him he has a raging ear infection. Made sense.

We got penicillin and got back in the car (he was already starting to feel better). It was 6:30 AM at this point, and the sun was rising. This was the first time I'd seen the sun rise in a long time. It was pleasant.

So I went to bed at 7 AM, woke up at 10:30, went back to sleep at 12, and slept until 2. I don't even know what DAY it is. My mind is pretty much butter at this point. But I'm glad Eliot's OK. I was really worried.

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Current Mood: relieved relieved
Current Music: Dogs Die in Hot Cars - Apples & Oranges

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sadly true

Current Mood: exhausted exhausted

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