Where Did My Hair Go??
Well in all sorts of bloggery goodness Tink feels the need to post. This would be otherwise known as operation stop the Tink from stepping over the edge of the over-analysis paralysis chasm about the job she interviewed for last Friday and supposedly has, or so the gossip says- Tink hasn’t heard from them officially. PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY ALREADY!! Don’t you people know that the beginning of next week when you SAID YOU WOULD TELL ME; was officially past at 2pm (generous timing for the frenchies) on Wednesday. Or alternately called keep the Tink from trying to think of the 1001 things that could be medically wrong with her and why she is feeling the dizzy and HURTY head (prequel the “Is it a tumor? It’s not a tumor” line), cause she is not feeling up to going to a Frenchie doctor in the middle of August, when all the real ones are on holiday. And not when she can’t access her social security (thanks to the two most hated words in French) to get her taxes deducted and paid for medical reimbursements. Serious all when I was on the phone with world’s coolest boss EVER today and tried to make fun of my need to store a bevy of brown paper bags under my desk to hyperventilate with and go with my pile of hair that I have been pulling out. I told him since I didn’t think I could make it as a Sinead O’Connor look a like I might have to join a <READ THIS> Nudist Bunnery… yeah I was going for Buddhist Nunnery. him he was laughing without oxygen for the next 5 minutes. So let’s distract the Tink and talk techie goods, cause the knitting is just a crazy colored sock and another almost done Daydream for another breeder friend who just reproduced- and it is not distracting enough. Techie goods info here we come: Did you know that the computer that went comatose is now back in the hands of a certain boss person who happens to be in a warranty covered (make that the only warranty covered) country?? Yes the Tink she will have the technology in a PC at home with her photos, PHOTOSHOP and data one day soon. It was only a year of financial payments in the making… This may harken a shift of the blog as I also caved and bought the right URL. But hold on to your britches I have to get it all hosted and meld my way through and over, so it is not a done deal. So in teh mean time if the hard drive cooperates with the *supposedly* fixed puter... there will be more photos! And to entertain/distract me- for the first time in the history of Tinklet’s play a game called: check the spam and googles. Starting with the spam, which as a side note before the side is started… (yeah I am antsy what of it??) I still cannot wrap my brain around the concept of spam… I mean there has to be some incentive for this action? Usually it is called marketing and people click-through. How many people click on spam? Ok I know there must be some but still… Anyways, today I came into 36 filtered spam messages. I know that isn’t a lot, but it is enough. Especially given that all the ones about penis enlargement never fail to 1. make me look down in my pants with terror, cause people each time, there is nothing there to enlarge. I have a hard enough time finding a thong to carry the balls the size of Jupiter I on occasion take around the block… I have no space for a penis. And my need for one, wants it to be attached to someone else. 2. this barrage of penis enlargement spam gives me an identity complex. My friend Jeff (who owns more shoes than me, but is NOT gay) tries to tell me in “solidarity” that he gets spam for breast enlargements all the time. To which I respond at least you have breasts! Him of ultramarathon running fame stands up in outcry screeching “NO I DO NOT.” To which I kindly point out… hey buddy those nipples, the ones you like tweaked, what the fuck do you think they are attached to?? He continues to screech, but my logic it has won and we both know it. So in today’s spam I became entertained noticing a correlation. I can’t take the glory for being the first here. Him, he is my hero and truth be told Chris does it better. But here we go on the names and the subject lines. First and most importantly- Jack Rabbit wants to talk to me about the “Gift that keeps on giving.” I am not sure which gift this is and if Jack Rabbit is a carrier… I am not sure I want it to be honest. Kim will sell me medicine for *(less*. I wonder which medicine… and how much *(less*. Placing me on the verge of calling the psychiatrist back in the states- PERMANENTLENGTH (yes all caps- like I wasn’t aware that the length is non existent… but I am not male I will not succumb to your tiny wang remedies… ) is talking to me about my Benjamin. And really I want to ask PERMANENTLENGTH (before I crack into tears) how the fuck he knows what I have named my non-existent penis?? HerbalViagra is telling Sarah (so why send me the email, my name ain’t Sarah…) that it will be up in 19 minutes… DietPills (who has VERY bad syntax and punctuation I might add…) wants me to loose weight for Ross… I don’t know any Ross. I am fragile and recovering from the “oh shit I am going to die alone and a spinster” freak out of this past week. I don’t need you to tell me about how I need to loose weight for some man I don’t know. I mean yeah I want to loose a few French cheese pounds but really to loose weight for Ross… he better be hott (you know the way Paris Hilton feels the need to write it…) and not need any emails from PERMANENTLENGTH if I am going to do that! But just in case the Benjamin needs a *erm* relationship, Churchi is willing to share the wealth of how to request a discreet “business” relationship. Pete Knaussen has sent me an email about how you can feed that relationship, a diet of pizza all year long. And for free. Though I am not sure what DietPills would think of that… But before we do any of this talking… Visa is emailing me wanting to know why her account access is limited. Fuck if I know, I don’t have a Visa nor know a Visa. Next we are going to go to the google searches. I don’t have any seriously insane ones like others that I know… maybe one day. But for now I hope that the people who came here via searches for itchy ass and face of death are sufficiently serviced. Cause I am always the face of death, especially when I have an itchy ass. And while we are at the google searches I noticed that I got 16 hits for my real life name. I don’t use it often. Not a hiding thing just eh… but the scary part is going through to the google search for just the first name. HOLY SHIT PEOPLE. ALL the porn stars and nudists are using my name!! Them and the NYC Naturist Nudists too (I wonder what they would think of a Nudist Bunnery??). But if that didn’t get you, the BDSM community in my name is willing to allow you to join in. In something that a different “Lady” using my name calls consensual reality. THAT was an eye opener. I am pretty damn sure that the person making the search that clicks through to here is going to be more disappointed than well any metaphor my linguistically challenged self can come up with. Luckily one of the sentences that people seem to be clamouring about (or at least clamouring in the second place) is fidgety person movie… SHUT IT about the crossing veins in the previous paragraph… and shut it now! Ok people I have a holiday weekend to sit and mull about not knowing about a job over. It is GREAT! Ascension where someone goes up a cloud, like POOF. Yes I am entertained that a country that prides themselves on a separation of church and state has 30% of their national holidays on religious dates. Then again I wouldn’t be making noise if I knew if I had the job or not, Id be going to the south of France. GAH. I will go be psychotic and see you all next week. Where in if they decide to tell me I don’t have this job… I will make Voodoo dolls of each of them and TORTURE THE FUCK out of them. I am sure that thought (and elaborated drawings I *may* make over the weekend) will get me through not only the pearly gates of heaven, but through the contract clauses too… Send narcotics! And Rogaine... *edited: Note I talk about spam... and I recieve my first spam comment. Dude a HUGE one too... life and technology- aint they grand*