So apparently the mice are the Amazing Gender-Bending Magical Miniature Giant Space Mice.

Either that or Dave and I are incapable of correctly determining the sex of juvenile mice.

They have sprouted testicles!

Bleah. I have some kind of flu-thing that is kicking my ass. Much of the not fun is being had right now ( Read more... )

The word of the day is "dancing cantaloupe". Just so you know ( Read more... )

Their names are Thing One and Thing Two, since it's kind of hard to tell them apart. We think they're little girl meeses.

Right now, they're sitting under their wheel and staring at me. I think they want Davecritter to come home.

Two little meeses are now sitting in their super-deluxe cage and staring at me while I type. :D They're all cute and adorable.

A girl I work with is going to give me one of the babies from her mice when they're old enough to leave their mum.

I will name the fuzzy little widget Xenu.

He will be an evil mousy overlord who will send other mice to different planets for being infested with thetans.

Or something.

the left side of my face and jaw feels like it's about to explode off of my head.

fuuuuuck, it hurts.

I hate wisdom teeth.

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. fuckity dammity crap. it is painful.

Dave programmed my computer to make the noises that the little drone robots in Portal make instead of the usual Windows sound scheme. I am immensely amused by this. Of course, I’m also the one who’s amused by a ball of tinfoil, so draw your own conclusions from that ( Read more... )

So things are still going well. No big major excitement to report. No braindumps on hand either, so my journal will have to remain boring. Sucks for you! Or something. I'm debating whether I want to stay home tonight or go hang out with a friend. Ponder, ponder, ponder.

So the new job is going pretty well so far. No big excitement to report on that front, really. Doing banquet serving is a lot more low-key than waiting tables.