This week's asshat is Wolvie.. who somehow got the 'last day to turn in rent check' mixed up with 'first paycheck of the month'. Regardless... she ended up paying something like $80 in late fees.

Ouch.

Because if we decided on one, nobody told me about it.

This week's asshat is me, because I brought my car in for scheduled maintenance... two months late. You know you keep good care of a vehicle when they tell you the headlights hadn't burned out, they were just dirty as all fuck. And the engine light? Good news, it wasn't glitchy diagnostic hardware. Bad news, it wasn't glitchy diagnostic hardware. ¬.,-

I win at cars.

Not a human being, you must understand. I would hate to be the subject of sympathy from others who function under the misconcept that my pending loss is that of a family member, or of a longtime companion, or of a cherished pet. No.

I must explain this properly. It was... two or three years ago, in the wee hours of a Sunday. I had, for reasons that elude me to this day, watched the first disc of Neon Genesis Evangelion in one sitting. Being enraptured by this narrative (and also quite sleep-deprived), I set forth as early as possible to obtain the complete box set of it. Knowing only of Media Play as a reputable source of moving pictures, I engaged in a half-hour drive to one, only to find that they had not what I desired. After an hour-long drive (part of which was spent driving the wrong direction on Wadsworth), I examined the stock of another Media Play, to no avail. But wait! A kindly soul behind the counter ran a search of the entire inventory of every Media Play, and told me there was exactly ONE (or so) in stock in the far-off and exciting city of... Aurora. I made haste for it without delay. An hour-and-a-half later, I was thoroughly lost. But half-an-hour after that, I stood before it, its mighty walls gleaming with promise and deactivated neon signs. I swiftly stepped inside, inquired as to the whereabouts of my objective, was politely handed the wonderous thing, and I made my way to the checkout counter. But this was no normal checkout clerk behind it! She informed me that she usually allowed purveyors of anime to acquire a free graphic novel compilation of their choosing! Such glee! I still feel I owe that woman, and that day I walked out of the best Media Play in the state, nay, the country.



so yeah, it's going out of business. and if you make a "lol duh they gave their stock away that's why they're closing lol"-type comment, I will thwart you in the shins.

omg wtf noob

last week's asshats are as follows:

from the minifridge: all of us, because we actively talked about who/what the asshat should be, and then NONE of us posted it.

outside the minifridge: ben, for dropping my maglite into an outhouse, followed by him saying: "SHIT! Ok, so when I went into this outhouse, I had a light. When I came out, it's not light anymore. There are only two ways out of that outhouse..."

this week's asshats are as follows:

from the minifridge: moof "getajob" kenubi for dropping a bowling ball mid-swing, so says tim "shadaggar" west. virginia "idisappearedforanightdespitehavingmycellphoneonme" willett has no comment.

outside the minifridge: we got nuthin'.

New Years is coming up, which means that it is time for the Minifridge New Year's Party!

Here's the deal:

It will go from 8 PM until whenever we throw people the fuck out of our house.  Basically, everyone is welcome to sleep here and go home in the afternoon if you'd like, or go home in the morning, or whatever.  The power is in your hands!  Although, if it get's to be, like, 10 pm on January 1st and there are still people in our house, we may put on the out-kickin' boots.

Foodwise, there will be pot-luckij, sort of.  The reason I say sort of is that Wolvie and I will make an attempt to have various forms of food available for general consumption, so that if you all turn out to be slackers (we're pretty much assuming this will be the case) there will still be some food.  Other things to bring include: pillows, blankets, consoles (we have a PS2 and a Gamecube), games to play on consoles, movies to watch, Go boards, further food, alcohol, non-alcohol beverages, and basically anything else that seems amusing at the time.  There will likely be plenty of people not drinking, so if you're part of that group, do not fear.

If you need directions, e-mail me back.  Everyone *and* their mother is invited, so feel free to pass this invite on to anyone you feel like.  RSVP if you want to, but mostly just come!  Let there be people, dang it!

That is all.

gah! forgot about this.

The Asshat of the Week is... President George W. Bush, for the War in Iraq and general incompetancy in dealing with national disasters. You should be ashamed of yourself, thousands have died beca- wha? oh, oh sorry, it's George W. Carver, inventor of peanut butter. Damn you and your delicious butters. Damn you to hell.

Since Wolvie is not in the minifridge tonight, I will take it upon myself to post it.

The award was actually decided on Tuesday. The winner is: Moof, due to a conversation that went something like this:

Wolvie: So, Sara may crash here if she's too drunk.
Moof: I hope we have enough couches...
Wolvie: I don't think Sara takes up three couches.
Tim: Are you calling Sara fat?

Four days later, Moof still squeels and twitches at the phrase "You called Sara fat!" We tried to request "I'm Fat" by Weird Al at Sing Sing for him (well, the paper said From Moof), but we left before the piano dude ever got to our request.

So congratulations, Moof! May you wear the asshat with pride!


edit by moof: TO CHOOSE FROM. I HOPE WE HAVE ENOUGH COUCHES TO CHOOSE FROM. She had her choice of Neat Loveseat That Transforms Into Bed, the Couch of Eternal Comfyness, or the Couch That Spent Several Years In Moof's Bedroom And Is Generally More Pleasant Than That Title Would Suggest. You bastards cut me off mid-sentence and suddenly it's a laugh riot. siriusly i hate you all

The asshat of the week is... "we actually need to get an asshat."

see, for the first time, noone really did anything stupid over the course of the week. we did silly things, and funny things, but no stupid things.

originally moof suggested that since we don't have an asshat of the week, i'm the asshat of the week because i came up with the feature, but then we'd contradict ourselves since i'm the asshat when we're not supposed to have an asshat.

but.. no.

so.. there's not really an asshat of the week, but i'm really tempted to shout a big "asshatfuckery" to all those exgirlfriends of ours. but that's just my sentiment.

\:D/

Which will hopefully only ever be featured once. I now present to you:

Quotes Spoken in the Minifridge That Would Be Funnier If They Were Slightly Altered to Refer to a Communist Icon Instead:

Originally:

Moof: Wow, he's like the Chico Marx of hobos!

Better:

Moof: Wow, he's like the Karl Marx of hobos!

this week's asshats of the week go to... MOOF AND SARA!

this is the story:

picture it: tuesday night, sing sing in lodo. 25 cent beers. lots of awecore piano music. 25 cent beers. lots of laughing. 25 cent beers. writing notes on napkins. 25 cent beers.

sara and moof both manage to have *5* of these 25 cent beers. to have some idea of how strong these beers were, i had 4 of these 25 cent beers, and i was very drunk. i could still walk, but not very well.

sara and moof both manage to throw up some of their 25 cent beers in their respective restrooms at sing sing. they both manage to barely get to the van that we came in.

sara is fairly quiet in the car. moof starts spewing way too many weird fucked up sentences about "THE TRUTH". he also keeps some of the napkins that tim wrote for sara tucked underneath his armpit. eek. :/

both manage to get home fairly safe, and both didn't have hangovers.

however, tim and i both realize just how obnoxious of a drunk moof is.

we're making sure moof never ever gets drunk again.