Almost Tattoosday

Okay, so I’m late for Tattoosday again. I was so busy finishing up work on the Alliance database that I lost track of time and forgot everything else. M (I’m embarrassed to type this) was at his friend’s last night playing video games. It still puzzles me and defies all logic that adults find such things entertaining. The only thing I can remotely find entertaining about it is trying to figure out the logic in the code behind the games. My computer geekness does sneak out every now and then, I guess. Anyway, he got home around 11, and I was just shipping off the final version of the database complete with the documentation (manual). I put the documentation off until the end (as always), because that’s my least favorite part. So M. asked if I had finished the blog entry. Since I’m still featuring his tats, he remembers Tattoosdays better than me apparently. I am so happy to have the database upgrade done, that I don’t even feel bad about my lateness! ;) Now I have to start working on the Service Master database, and then I still have one more in the queue to work on after that is done. Hopefully I will get a break then!

So this tattoo is pretty straightforward. It’s a sun on his left ankle. He likes the sun. I guess that’s a good thing, since it makes his career possible. He intends on getting some type of moon on his right ankle, but is planning the “green man” on his back before that. Allegrea is working on drawing the “green man” for him now.

Last week, I was horrified to see a letter to the editor, in our lovely local paper, maligning Peter Young and the reporter who wrote the article on him when he was in town. She did a great job, and Peter himself felt the article was very fair and accurate. The woman who wrote the crappy letter was the same obnoxious mink farmer who showed up at his talk (with her smelly—LITERALLY—heavy-mouth-breathing husband) and tried to jump Peter. It was clear from listening to them try to make him look bad there that they were not gifted with intelligence or quick thinking. He trounced them immediately, in the nicest of ways. She’s also the one with whom I exchanged some unpleasant words, after she mistook me for a sympathetic party. I’m still beyond insulted that she looked at me and somehow assumed that I would be her “buddy”. Do I really look like someone who would interact with a fur bitch (language cleaned up significantly for my sensitive readers ;D )??!! So her letter to the editor was equally disjointed and illogical enough to be quite harmless overall. However, she attacked Peter and his character, and I simply CANNOT let that one go. I sat down and drafted up my own letter to the editor, which was fabulous. Then I ran word count on it. It was nearly 200 words OVER the allowed 250 words. Seriously—250 words—that is just not enough. My initial draft was quite brief for me, considering all the points I needed to make. Then I spent then next hour trying to pare it down to 250 words, which I finally reached—exactly 250 words. So it was printed the next day, and I am happy. Peter’s honor has been restored. ;D