WARNING: If you are offended by foul language, please skip
the first piece and go to the second!
Fuck me, really? What’s wrong with these jack-off’s – can’t they ever get this shit right? Every fucking night I come in and it’s the same crap! The notification board is lighting up like a god damned Christmas Tree, the fucking alerts are blaring, one right after the other. Yeah – I know the fucking system is dying. I can see that, I’m working as fast as I can to fix the problem. Frigging software maggots, what the fuck makes them think they can build a damn machine, then implement it without even starting it up for a test run?
Seriously? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. The client specifically ordered hardware RAID on this system, and what do the fucking code monkeys do? They yank out the RAID controller cards and shove in these cheap-ass standard controllers so they can install software RAID. That’s it; I’ve had enough of this shit! I’m going to the server room to switch the machines back over to hardware RAID – fuck who ever doesn’t like it.
Alright, find the right rack, do it in sequence, and nothing else will go down. Bingo! There you are baby! Power down the first of the clustered machines; excellent – no problems. Yank it, replace the controller. Wait, what – fucking CAT5e? God damn it! We shouldn’t be running anything but CAT6 to this system! Fuck me! It’s gonna be a long night…
(and for the non-computer geek…)
“So how is it you think they stay upright on those things? They’re called legs like ours, right?” He asks, then shifts for a better view.
Sighing deeply, she reflects on how much stronger and aggressive he is than the other males, but that he is definitely lacking in the brains department. Ya can’t have it all, right? “Yes, they’re called legs. Beats me how they walk like that. I can only make about ten seconds at most, and that’s sitting back on my full feet, plus my butt. Standing upright on just my pads, either give me a doorknob or a counter to hold onto, or I’m face-planting after a count of two.”
Muffs glances over at her, “I hear ya, same with me.” Flipping onto all fours, he sits upright and starts bathing. “You think there’s a way we can get them to pick up a bigger bowl? You know, so we don’t have to wait so long if it goes empty during the night?”
“Goes empty?” Fluffer questions. She’s still lounging in the beam of sunlight, eyes squinted shut, trying to relax. “Honey, you say that like it magically happens out of the blue. You know your big round butt is the one making it ‘go empty’ at night. Have some dignity, will you?”
Muffs stops stroking his head and looks over at Fluffer. “Look, no need to be mean about it. I just meant…”
“Yeah, I know what you just meant. You just meant that your greedy belly wants more to eat.” Fluffer opens her eyes and slaps her tail down in challenge. “Did it ever occur to you that I might want more to eat, too?”
“Oh, here we go! You always take what I say and twist it around. Look, I meant it would be good for both of us.” By this point, he knows he should shut up, but just can’t make himself do it. “And so what if I eat a lot, I’m hungry at night. I don’t pick my way daintily through the pieces like you trying to decide which is the yummiest. They’re all freakin’ yummy! So don’t start with me!” He slaps his tail down hard in return.
Standing up and squaring off with Muffs, Fluffer flattens her ears and responds, “Are you slapping that tail at me, Mr. Furball?” A paw strikes out lightning fast and lands atop his head. “Maybe you better rethink that attitude, Chubs!”
Pissed and poofed, Muffs dives at her screaming, “Chubs! Who are you calling Chubs, you rat-eating, bunny-looking, white ball of fluff! Yeah I said it – fluff. Just like ‘Fluffer’, such a cute little name,” he mocks. “Too bad they don’t know what an evil bitch you really are.”
Rolling around on the floor, arms tangled, heads thrashing, jaws snapping, with unholy screeches emitting from their feline lips; they’re seriously going at it… At least that’s what it looks like to the woman who rushes in to break them up.
Fluffer, the squirrellier of the two, avoids capture. She tosses over her shoulder as she walks away with her tail in the air, “See what you did, you orange, mange covered, litter-stinking beast. Now she’s gonna have to check every inch of our bodies. Do you know how long it’s going to take me to lick that smell away? Forget it, not like your skunky butt would know what a real bath was anyway. Well, at least she got her hands on you first.”
Muffs really does look miserable. His arms held above his head, belly exposed, standing on tippy toes, eyes wide as saucers while the woman examines him. Fluffer giggles in satifaction, and says, “I’m going upstairs to lie down on the bed. And when she’s done putting her stinky hands all over you, don’t you dare run your cat butt over to that bowl and comfort binge!”
© Copyright 2013 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.
I’m doing the 2013 Blogging from A to Z Challenge! Pop back everyday but Sunday through the month of April for a new letter prompt to spawn my deranged ramblings! ;}