There's something to be said for cheap, stupid, raunchy sequels of movies that never should have been made in the first place. And the sequels, I often notice, rehash the plot line from the first movie only worse, because now for some reason you've decided that a repeat was something to see...
Case in point: Psycho Printer Part 2: The Rise of the Killer Cartridges.
So there I am, attempting printoff of the same type of sheet from last week...for the same person as last week. The printer is mysteriously off again. I turn it on, wait several moments...the printer goes to print...and...and...
AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!
IT DID IT AGAIN.
AGAIN?
AGAIN!
Exact same scenario as last week: for some reason, the printer begins throwing out pages thoroughly covered with Wingding's fevered ravings. But this time, I shut it off before it spit more than about 5 or 6 of them.
This printer is just dying to have its little circuits ripped out by a frustrated desk worker. What the hell is the matter with this thing? Does it WANT to be sent back to the factory from whence it came?
No doubt Steve will come in and blame the computer again. If the two of them don't communicate soon, they're headed for a permanent separation (we don't say the "d" word around here-it makes the other computers nervous)
Meanwhile, been busy. Ronon met up with some of his friends on Stargate Atlantis last night, and he met Sam. I hope their interaction is a little more friendly next time. First thing he ever says to her is, "You in charge here?" in a tone that suggests he's raring for a fight. Not a good beginning, but Sam's dealt with rude people before. Next time she'll probably wrestle his gun out of his hand and shoot him. This woman has power-she's blown up suns and punched fallen Goa'uld system lords in the face when they got too snarky. She can handle herself :)
Thursday we did the Children's Writing Contest reviews. I can't talk much about what was said, but I do believe some of my fellow English majors should get out of the Freudian puddle before they have a Freudian slip. How you can turn an innocent story about a dolphin into some sort of sexual reference...our fearless leader kept TELLING us to cut it out, but we were all busy laughing too hard.
I do believe we are the most immature bunch of English majors (and other people, who were with the joke but didn't get it like we did) that have ever sat around a table and read little kid's stories.
I'm very glad, however, that the story I wanted to win did. Amputated toes, coconuts, and firing squads...the kid is the next Grisham.
Well, I am working on one of my stories today, so I'd better get back to it. Isolde is waiting to be finished at last.
Cheers,
Bec
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