Vomit Comet

If you’re wondering what the hell I’m trying to say, or whether that was English or not, that was me trying to spell what “would it be possible to get some soup?” sounded like with my cold-ridden voice on the phone to Swiss Chalet when I called them in despearation asking if I could get their soup delivered. This was when, miracle of miracles, I found out, yee ha, they deliver soup! That soup rocks! It made me be able to go out and do what I had to do, which seemed impossible before the powers of soup set to work.

Man it made me laugh when the girl on the phone said, “Would you like some orange juice too?” I mean, my clogged nose and crackling voice on the verge of hacking up a lung would be hard to miss, but still!

So to everyone who finds themselves with a cold, no chicken soup in the cupboard, and something to do, Swiss Chalet soup will save you!

Remember my loud and crazy new neighbour also known as Stupidhead? Well, apparently her stupidity knows no bounds, and soe does my relief at her exit. She’s gone!

I wouldn’t usually wish eviction on anyone, but frankly, she needed it. If you can believe it, she got worse since the last post about her. There were all kinds of criminals entering and exiting her house, and we know they were criminals because we witnessed them dealing drugs. Plus, dear old Stupidhead didn’t mind using some of the product either. Sometimes I’d knock because I got a piece of her mail, or had a simple question, etc. and when she came to the door, I could tell she was high as a kite. I would knock and a dude would answer the door. I’d ask for her, she’d freak out, run out of the apartment, answer my question, and slam the door in my face. Hello Paranoya!

It gets better. Her friends apparently didn’t know how to use the door, so they would crawl through her window! Piles of them would stay at her house when she was not at home, and it sounded like they were trashing the place. The only reason I knew she wasn’t there was I called over one day at 3 in the morning and asked for her so I could tell her to get her crazy buddies to pipe down, and one of them who sounded stoned out of his mind said she wasn’t even there.

It got to the point where I would be nervous walking down my part of the street just because she associated with so many thugs. I’m sure nothing would have happened, but it was that element of fear. I never know what people are going to do when drugs are involved.

Now I wake up in the morning and don’t hear slam! slam! slam! I don’t smell smoke seeping in from her place and filling the lobby. I don’t hear tales of dudes wanting to “fuck up” other dudes. I don’t wonder if I should call the cops. No more drama! Life is beautiful! Let’s hope the new neighbour rocks.

Wow. I’m a loser. I’m sitting here, my ears are full of some cold-related goop and I feel like some invisible man is plugging them, and what am I doing? I’m playing a new game that I just found out about. It’s Sudoku, or as one funny man called it once, suckadoo, for blinks. Technically this game is called the Ultimate SounDoku but let’s face it kids, it’s Sudoku!

Now, has anyone else played Sudoku and wanted to just scream? Just when I think I’m getting the hang of it, it completely fukcs me over. Apparently, you’re supposed to memorize an 81-square grid and while you’re filling in the gaps, remember the whole rest of the picture so you don’t have to wipe a bunch clean and start over! Yeesh! I always wondered what was so fascinating about sudoku. Now I half wish I’d never asked. This is worse than that time I challenged Destination Mars! God damn you Sudoku, I! Will! Win!