just the stock oem android build on the moto droid. But it crashes all the time on my buddy's HTC as well, and on his wife's samsung.Mine never crashes... what os version are you on?
I guess I assumed thats what he meant. I suppose it could be something else though.I'm assuming she no longer has said job? If that's the case I'm sorry to hear it.
Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat. thewhat.Smart guy.
My rant: Nothing quite as creepy as a 50 year old dad who refers to his teenage girls as "hotties" and "my hot girl" and titles a pic of his teenage daughter on his motorcycle "get your motor runnin!"
Are they?Smart guy.
My rant: Nothing quite as creepy as a 50 year old dad who refers to his teenage girls as "hotties" and "my hot girl" and titles a pic of his teenage daughter on his motorcycle "get your motor runnin!"
Thats the weird thing, honestly the pics are just super normal pics of some super normal girls. For a dad to pick "hottie" and "hot girls" as his pet names... yikes.Are they?
Awww. I feel horrible when I try putting Jet to bed and he doesn't want to go...I can't imagine coming home to that.Well, here's a rant in which I feel like a terrible person...
Last Thursday night I had plans to go out to a sports bar to catch two Chicago playoff games with friends, and afterwards we headed out and saw a late viewing of Source Code. Anyway, just before I was set to head out, my 3-year-old son was eating ice cream with some other kids among the friends I was heading out with. I had to tell him several times to stop messing around with the ice cream, as he was making a mess of things screwing around with the food in an attempt to be silly. Eventually, the ice cream hit the floor because of it, and I took it away and yelled at him that he wasn't getting any more ice cream, and that it was his fault he wasn't getting any more, and that he had to sit in timeout for 3 minutes. During the 3 minutes, my friends and I left for the sports bar/movie.
I didn't get home until after 3 (no work Friday!), and as I was walking into my bedroom, I heard my son calling for me. I went into his room, and he was sitting there, still crying. He told me "Daddy, I'm really sorry about not listening to you and for ruining the ice cream. Please promise you won't leave me any more." So...yeah, it looks like he spent the better portion of seven hours in his bed being sad and worried that I had left him because of what he did.
Now he knows not to fuck around with the ice cream.Well, here's a rant in which I feel like a terrible person...
Last Thursday night I had plans to go out to a sports bar to catch two Chicago playoff games with friends, and afterwards we headed out and saw a late viewing of Source Code. Anyway, just before I was set to head out, my 3-year-old son was eating ice cream with some other kids among the friends I was heading out with. I had to tell him several times to stop messing around with the ice cream, as he was making a mess of things screwing around with the food in an attempt to be silly. Eventually, the ice cream hit the floor because of it, and I took it away and yelled at him that he wasn't getting any more ice cream, and that it was his fault he wasn't getting any more, and that he had to sit in timeout for 3 minutes. During the 3 minutes, my friends and I left for the sports bar/movie.
I didn't get home until after 3 (no work Friday!), and as I was walking into my bedroom, I heard my son calling for me. I went into his room, and he was sitting there, still crying. He told me "Daddy, I'm really sorry about not listening to you and for ruining the ice cream. Please promise you won't leave me any more." So...yeah, it looks like he spent the better portion of seven hours in his bed being sad and worried that I had left him because of what he did.
This. If this how they treat their own people, I wouldn't want them anywhere near my roof.Man that sounds like a real shitty company to work for.