Ploman glares at me for not closing the sliding glass door
It’s the 12th. Wrath is coming out at midnight. Ploman and I are currently watching movies, waiting for that magical time to hit so we can head to the game store and pick up our copies the moment it is released. Yeah, it would be smarter for us to wait until tomorrow. But if we did, you would miss out on all the photos I’m sure I’ll be taking of the gomers dressed up like WoW characters…!
In other news, I’m going on a date with The Grinch tomorrow night. Why am I calling him The Grinch? Because that’s what we call him at work. He’s a mean SOB and rubs everyone the wrong way. He’s been nothing but mean to ME (think: little boy kicks girl on playground in elementary school), but when he asked me out he was so super-enthusiastic, I couldn’t bring myself to say no. I will probably be a total bitch to him all night, anyway.
I’ve decided that having heterosexual male friends (such as the grumpy glare-bot above) is good for me. We get to talk about girls we think are cute together, and he gets to point out why most of the guys I talk to are total douchebags. Between Ploman and Mr. T, I sometimes feel a little overwhelmed by testosterone.
And since turn about is fair play, I’m going to post a photo of myself. I’m posting one that John aka IneRLogic took – he paid me $100 to model, and thus helped me buy my first digital SLR camera.
If you’re my friend on twitter, you’ve seen the tiny version of this photograph. I’m actually on the pool table in the basement of my house in this shot, and as Bill likes to point out, (random trivia) I tend to shoot with an open bridge…
Anyway, Ploman can never stay very angry for long…because stuff like this happens when he comes to my house:
Watching Ploman‘s reaction to the ironman movie is hilarious – especially since he is spending half his time playing with the kitten. We can’t wait until the kitten stops being hyper, and turns into a lapcat like Bandit.
With you expecting to be a total bitch to him all night, and him reputed to be nothing but mean to you, tomorrow’s date should be a total failure. To you, that is. To the readers of your blog, however, this looks like the perfect prologue to another edition of your First Dates series.
When you wrote on Twitter about the proposed date, I pictured the faces of those colleagues of yours who have conceded to the fact that you “do not date co-workers”, when they learn you went on a date with the person a.k.a. The Grinch. Just imagining their reaction was already most entertaining.