The first thing - the new ad from KFC - Killed From Chemicals - about a donation they'll make to the Komen Foundation for every bucket of "chicken" bought from their stores.
Is it just me, or is this maybe one of the worst cross-promotion ideas, ever? Trying to trick people into buying "food" that is totally poisoned with chemicals - the types of preservatives, hormones & gawd-knows-what-else that anyone who might even know someone with cancer should avoid in the interest of maintaining good health - on the pretense of helping a charity.
Shame on you, KFC. And shame on you, whorish Komen Foundation, for partnering with a fast "food" restaurant that just came out with the Double Down, as in, double your chances of going down from any number of ailments - heart disease, cancer, stroke, or perhaps explosive diarrhea. I don't support KFC in any way and now I'm not sure I can support Komen anymore.
Was that really your best option, Komen? Really? Really?
In other news, The Universe is up to her tricky bitch shenanigans again. This hasn't been the *worst* week I've ever had, but I'm giving it a slot in the Top 10.
My laptop is trying to kill itself, which I can understand when I watch clips of The Hills on it, but it was fine one day, fatal disc errors the next - and that's with excellent virus protection & good security controls.
Blue Screen of Death and "this volume is dirty" message, and not the fun, naughty kind of dirty - the You're Painfully Screwed in the Ass With Sandpaper sort of dirty.
Thankfully, I still have my old desktop, circa 2003. Runs like a champ, if all you need to do is open Notepad. Open anything else, like, say, the Calculator, at the same time, and you might as well go make a sandwich while you wait for it to get that done.
In fact, you can make the bread dough for the bread that will hold your sandwich then brine your own pickles for that sandwich before it's finished. It's a boon for the compulsive multitasker. What it's not good for is processing ginormous photo files, but one at a time, it can slog through it.
However, the really, really shitty part of all this was forgetting that my entire calendar lived on the laptop. The laptop I'd shut down to keep it from spontaneously combusting until I could get it to the shop.
While I *thought* I'd backed up everything I needed, I neglected to even *look* at my calendar before starting the work week, comfortably in my jammies & bathrobe, processing photos from a shoot on Sunday.
At 11:40am my phone rang... it was a client wondering where I was for an 11 o'clock scheduled shoot.
It was just like the nightmare where you're supposed to be taking a final exam but you wake up late and when you get there the doors are locked and you're naked.
OK, maybe it wasn't that dire, but I felt about as stupid. Thankfully, he was totally understanding about my computer woes and I got there, shot the job and he was happy with the work.
Thinking the worst was behind me, I got home and began transitioning *every* single piece of data I might need to this old POS. The most important thing being my email.
I wanted to install the new Office software and it wasn't working - had to track down & fix a registry error, but that took HOURS, because the install took a good 15 minutes to get 80% complete, then it would stop and roll back the changes, which took another 15 minutes. THREE TIMES I tried this.
Out of my mind with frustration, I finally got up, went to the bar and poured myself a drink. Slammed that then poured another, and went back to work. By the time David got home I was a drunken wreck. (Lightweight! Heyyy!)
I am so dependent on these goddamm machines I cannot live without them, and that's upsetting for so many reasons. None of them all that worthwhile. It makes me long for a job "Makin bucks, gettin exercise & workin outside. Fuckin A."
Oh, and yesterday, Nikita was about to puke on the hall rug and I went to gently redirect her to the floor when Henry was startled by the commotion and flew after me, which startled the cat and as a result, she took off running WHILE puking, leaving a stunning swath of puke extending through half the length of the dining room. Awesome.
Whether it's the full moon, Mercury in Rectalgrade or some shitty karma making the rounds, it needs to stop.