Archive for August 31st, 2001

Aug 31 2001

The Rufus Report

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A short one today because I?m as busy as hell at work?

Cat Update:

The incredibly annoying Jack was being Incredibly cute last night. She has an old piece of rope that she likes to chew on (yes, rope) and last night she was lying on the bed, on her back, holding this thick length of rope in her paws and gnawing on it with big, clumsy, kittenish bites, making it creak like an old wooden beam. I like to think that the rough strands of the rope will act like toothbrush and dental floss in one, cleaning her teeth.

Things That Still Piss Me Off After All These Years #50:

When David Caruso left NYPD Blue to pursue a movie career (since the producers would not let him do both), he appeared to knock his career right off the tracks. People took great delight in trashing the guy over the years, but most of them seem to have not watched that first great season of the show, one I soon stopped watching afterward. Who cares if Caruso was a pain in the ass? The performance was worth it. The weird thing is, he is probably the only TV star in the 90?s who was prevented from doing movies while on hiatus, when stars on shows that were both more and less popular were allowed that same freedom. (This link has been a bit wonky, so if you get to a page saying the link is broken, delete the ‘BR’ and the brackets at the end of the web address and it should load okay.)

Women Are Strange #349:

So I?m getting off the bus this morning and this brokerbitch with a bunch of luggage is behind me, so I figure I?ll play nice and hold the door for her, and she takes forever getting off the bus, and then walks away without a glance or a thank you. I nearly ran after her and kicked her in the ass. That happens a lot at work too. I?ll hold the door for a girl and they either won?t say thanks, or even more bizarre, will walk further away to open another door themselves. I mean, people like that have serious issues that need to be addressed.

Random Notes:

Random Recollection: In the early 80?s, in Scotland, I worked with an English guy named Jerry Pratt (see definition). I mean, that would be like meeting an American guy named George Dickhead. The abuse the guy took from the Scots was astounding and hilarious. A fond memory, that.

Sometimes when I?m bored, I hit Google with a bizarre word combo just to see what comes up. Usually it?s porn (as it appears anyone will fuck anything with anything) but once in a while you hit gems like these-

Random Google: ?Bionic Genitals.? 2 Results: (1) here, and (2) here.

Final Question:

You?d think that I could catch a break today, early close for the markets, finish up my shit and split a little early like every other bastard working my hours, huh? But, no, that?s not happening. Why? Because assholes are coming out of the woodwork and they?re lining up around the block to bone me eight ways from Sunday. I?m gonna have to take steps to protect myself or I?ll never survive the fucking day!

-Rufus

I am now only counting hours, instead of days, until Suzy?s return. I can?t wait!

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