Evaluation, Termites, and the Third Battle of Walmart

Well, rather than make the mistake of going to sleep last night I decieded to say fuck it and stay up.  Tried to play some WoW for a bit, but couldn’t really get anything going.  Hit the auction house up and logged off shortly thereafter.  At around 0645 I got the kids up, turned some Playhouse Disney on and began the toils that are associated with parenting.  I made a healthy, well rounded breakfast for the boys; wheat toast with butter (the real shit), sliced peaches and pears, scrambled eggs with cheese, and some ceral (fruitloops).  Of course, they wanted nothing to do with the meal, and everything to do with Ritz fucking crackers.  Thus, my work was reduced to dogfood, which I still need to buy today. 

I threw on a pot of coffee, and quietly told Gabe to go wake his Mom up so I wouldn’t look like an asshole by doing it myself.  She deserved to sleep in, but I enjoy ‘guilting her up in the morn’.  Nothing gets a mother out of bed like guilt, let me tell you.  Being a husband is easy if you can manage to balance consistantly making you wife feel guilty, and afraid.  Never one more than the other, though, she might leave you.  Just make sure she feels guilty all the time for wanting to leave you, and to scared to actually do it.  Thats how you can be a part of the percentile of cats that don’t lose your marrige.  Anyway…

Cheryl got up (guilt rules) and the day began.  We take the kids to preschool at around 0800, and we had an appointment with the school to talk about Michael’s progress at 0830.  We were out the door by about 0755, and in place for the meeting by a quarter after.  They were late, of course, so we got to hang out till about 0900 by the time they were finally ready for the sit down that hey had set up with us.  Shock and Awe is what ensued.  As it turns out, Mike is a lot farther behind developementally than we had originally thought, and will need to attend the school for anther six months at a minimum, and that is not even due to the problems he has with his herniation or legs, which is another can of fucking worms alltogether. 

We got out of that shithole at about 1015, and went to Hastings (the local Barnes and Noble/Mediaplay knock off) to take our minds off of things.  Cheryl decieded that she wanted to rent The Brave One, starring that fucking ugly cunt Jody Foster.  I just ground my teeth into dust and went along with whatever she wanted to do.  Next it was off to Walgreens to ‘look around’, meaning buy a ton of fucking blankets that are so soft that you can’t sleep on them becuase you can’t stop thinking about how fucking soft and perfect they are.  $35 later, we went on to the house, where I promptly passed out in my bed…only to be roused from my slumber after what seemed like ten minutes (but was really four hours).  i do not remember what happened when I woke up, but Cheryl was freaking out and the kids were home, so I knew it was post 1500.  Why, whatever is the matter?  Termites, that what is the fucking matter.  A fucking army of those yids, marching on my kitchen floor like its Second Platea, with an invisible Commander marshalling them into my living room.  Not on your best fucking day will you take my living room, I thought ruefully.  So, I went to fucking Walmart, the Scourge of the South. 

If one was to take the worst patrons of a city, put them all in one place, surrounded by always low prices…always, you get any given period of time in Walmart.  I despise Walmart with a passion that my marriage lacks, it is a primordial ethnic sewer and I fucking hate it…but the prices compel me, oh yes.  I purchased two large garbage cans, two containers of boric acid, a bottle of Raid (deeep respect), a mini accoustic guitar for my eldest son, a gallon of milk, and frozen pizza.  All this took nearly two and a half hours, mind you.  I think there is some kind of mongrel-dar that alerts every peice of shit in Jacksonville that I, a good and decent man, am going to sell my soul at Walmart.  Anyway, I got back to the house and fun ensued.

Cheryl was outside putting the boys in a double stroller, while talking to our old exterminator on the phone.  i gave her the car and told her to come back in half hour or so, and my fell deed would be done.  I poured a heavy concentration of bleach (not the hit anime show) all over the outside of the house were the enemy had breached my fortifications.  After that came the boric acid, which was a perturbing blow to their morale.  Finally, I dealt the coup de grace with the can of Raid by spraying everything I had coated with bleach, and bombing the small storage space where I think they set up a forward camp at.  Death was everywhere, bruh.  I got Raid in my eyes while I was spraying everything down, and all it did was give me an erection from the killing.  I finally got my Landlord on the phone, and he told me to stop and he would send a dude from Terminex out to take a look.  Of course, he never did, but the first wave of shock troops has been crushed, and we can only wait to see what the morning brings.

It was now after 1830, and much to my suprise Cheryl had already gotten the boys dinner from some resturant/dumpster.  We all went back into the house, I did some spot killing, and it was buisiness as usual.  We put the kids to bed early, and got everything ready for the morning grind.  I turned on Discovery, and a show was on that was not Man vs. Wild or Deadliest Catch, so I turned the christ box off, and went to the spare bedroom to play some WoW, while Cheryl played some new MySims game I got her for her DS.

I have had Mass Effect for about a month now, and have yet to play it.  I am constantly on the lookout for the next ‘big game’ that I can really bury myself in, and I have come to realize that I already have that in WoW, which I fucking love to play.  I logged on to my shaman, and shit went down hill pretty fast.  I got ganked near Tarren Mill (big suprise) by a fucking hunter that I out leveled by at least eight.  He had some fucking pet that kept getting behind me and putting me into a stunlock, pissin’ me off.  Finally finished my shaman quest only to be told that I need to go to the Sunken Temple to finish it off.  Thats great, man.  I fucking hate running instances with peeps outside of my guild (and I am currently without one) because I can’t fully depend on them, and this was no different.  I was the backup tank, and third rate healer of the group, and I spoke to the boss and told him needed some fucking Voodoo Feathers for my quest, and didn’t give a shit about any gear that dropped as long as I got the quest shit I needed.  Yeah about 14 undead trolls later, the tank needs to log and go to bed…fucking cocksucker, man.  You don’t make a commitment to a group unless you can follow it through to the end.  From there it was just a downward spiral, and I fucking bounced the dungeon as well.  Headed over to the W. Plaguelands to grind for awhile on some bears and shit.  Needless to say, I was ganked by a fucking ‘lock and a cunt pally.  The pally didn’t even need to be there, really.  The ‘lock was speccing affliction, and just DoTed me to death, literally.  As an shaman speccing enhancement, I don’t stand a chance against any one who knows how to play their class well.  I can hold my own against a rouge (as long as I don’t get stunlocked), warrior, druid, or preist, but aside from that I am toast.  As a shaman, I gots to be ready for some shit at any given moment, to keep cats from getting the jump on me.  Thus, I have to have totems up all the time to intercept Fear, and hinder movement to fuck stealthed rouges.  Its not an easy life to lead, and it gets lonely sometimes. 

Well, I’m off to the auction house, and back to bed.