Nothing like being stuck next to a machine that's beeping every few seconds because you were dumb enough to print something while the DOS ImageCast Client was making an image of a computer next to you.

windexcowboy (10:21:53 PM): Beep.. THe printer needs attention.. Beep.. The printer needs attention.. Beep.. the printer needs attention.. beep... maybe you should go home russ... beep.. the printer needs attention.. :-)

At least it's imaging to a local hard drive, so I've only got eleven minutes of beeping to look forward to at 261 MB per minute. I == teh f00l.

Anyway, I forgot to mention, my grandps is dying. My mother's father, my original mother. With five parents, I know I need to be more specific. Point is, these are real grandparents that accepted my existence and have been great role models and admirable people, dodging bullets and building churches in central America less than a decade ago. I'm getting daily updates from my Aunt, relaying information from my grandmother. Since I ran away from home, I haven't really talked to much family, or seen anyone, and that was over three years ago. I might end up going out to Illinois for the funeral... and we were just talking about doing a 60^th wedding anniversary party for them this January. Instead, it's going to probably be a funeral in the near future. So add on the shitty grandson who stops talking to all of his families after running out of one bad situation, who tries to talk to every other family, and keeps on failing, and even fails at talking to the segment of his bloodline that he ran away from. My gram and gramps, they're wonderful people, I've always wished to be so active, admirable, and amazing at an old age. You run from rebels to a bus and build churches in Nicaragua in your seventies. They're amazing, selfless, dedicated, hard-working non-judgemental missionaries. The kind of people that would convert more heathens then the usual band of bible-thumping morons. Teachers, a veteran of the Korean war and World War II, and loving grandparents. I've been blessed, and I've been a shitty distant grandson who has avoided them due to avoiding my father.

Not to pull a bob_dot_com, go fucking call someone you've been too chickenshit to call, before you're getting emails from someone else with lines like: My nurse coworkers predict Dad will live up to a week. Mother reports he's less alert now, but apparently comfortable.

Feeling: sad
Listening to: Iron Maiden, Seventh Son of a Seventh Son (live)