Conversatiated - to have reached your fill of conversation, usually in a positive sense, so that you no longer feel a need to socialize for the present.
Conversatiation - when two or more people converse, not for personal growth or the development of a relationship, but simply satisfy a need to talk.
These definitions are really a weak attempt at beefing up my posts before the end of the year. I'll never make the 100 mark. I have less than 24 hours and exactly 24 posts to post if I'm to make it.
Perhaps I'll put my resolutions for the new year up. That'll kill a post.
man, if the term 'to suck' hadn't already been invented I could invent it right now to describe myself.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Perfect
My kids are at my in-laws until Wednesday. So my wife has rented a movie for each night and planned dinners that I like and the kids hate. And tonight, for dessert, we have Sticky Cinnamon Buns.
This is why my wife is perfect.
This is why my wife is perfect.
Evil in Candy
Chocolate Mint is an abomination; an unholy coupling of good and evil. Why? Why would anyone ever combine these two things. It's like mixing milk and mud. Pizza and used diaper. And it's totally unholy.
Don't pretend you don't know.
Don't pretend you didn't learn it in Sunday school.
Licoricicus 9, verse 3:
And the Lord said to his people, it is unholy and an sin for chocolate to combine with mint. Mint is an unclean whore. With pustules and boogers. And filthy, nasty drippy places. But chocolate is good wholesome yumminess. It has antioxidants like oranges and should be eaten at every opportunity. And just as it is wrong for whores to lie with delicious oranges. So also should not mint be never mixed with chocolate neither too.
(it loses something in the translation).
Don't pretend you don't know.
Don't pretend you didn't learn it in Sunday school.
Licoricicus 9, verse 3:
And the Lord said to his people, it is unholy and an sin for chocolate to combine with mint. Mint is an unclean whore. With pustules and boogers. And filthy, nasty drippy places. But chocolate is good wholesome yumminess. It has antioxidants like oranges and should be eaten at every opportunity. And just as it is wrong for whores to lie with delicious oranges. So also should not mint be never mixed with chocolate neither too.
(it loses something in the translation).
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Gas
Am I the only one out there who doesn't want to fill his car up with gas because I could be in a bad car accident, total out the car, and then all that gas will go to waste? I'm sure I'm not. Drop me a line if you have this problem too.
About three or four months ago my breaks failed on the interstate and slammed my car into the back of another. That morning I had filled my tank up, and that was when gas was in the neighborhood of $4 a gallon. The car was totaled.
Anyway, I filled my car up a month ago and the darn thing started over heating. I wound up having to replace the water pump. It actually turned out pretty cool. The estimated cost by two local garages was around $300 to $350. My brother-in-law and I replaced it for just the cost of the pump and some antifreeze. Total cost including complimentary lunch for my brother-in-law, $78.00.
So Friday I filled the car up and now the transmission is giving me trouble. I know my brother-in-law doesn't have the skills or the time to replace a tranny.
-When I was thinking of this post I assumed it would be all about cars, but since I have entitled it GAS and we are talking about things crapping out on you at the most inopportune moment, here's a new one for you:
MERRY CHRISTMAS! You Furnace is broken!
Yeah, it's gonna drop into the 20s tonight and my furnace won't cut on. Earlier this week the Gas company for Buford (City of Buford) cut our gas off because we made the mistake of letting our bill go four or five days late. So a $70.00 bill became $150.00. Apparently there is a $75.00 service charge to have someone treat us like a dick. Well, this past week it has been in the 70s so it hasn't come on since our gas was restored. But it was working three weeks ago when it was cold. Well, not now.
The only good news is that we have two furnaces, one upstairs, one down. So at least our bedrooms have heat.
***My loyal readers will recall that my upstairs A/C went out this past summer. No A/C upstairs, no Heat downstairs.
About three or four months ago my breaks failed on the interstate and slammed my car into the back of another. That morning I had filled my tank up, and that was when gas was in the neighborhood of $4 a gallon. The car was totaled.
Anyway, I filled my car up a month ago and the darn thing started over heating. I wound up having to replace the water pump. It actually turned out pretty cool. The estimated cost by two local garages was around $300 to $350. My brother-in-law and I replaced it for just the cost of the pump and some antifreeze. Total cost including complimentary lunch for my brother-in-law, $78.00.
So Friday I filled the car up and now the transmission is giving me trouble. I know my brother-in-law doesn't have the skills or the time to replace a tranny.
-When I was thinking of this post I assumed it would be all about cars, but since I have entitled it GAS and we are talking about things crapping out on you at the most inopportune moment, here's a new one for you:
MERRY CHRISTMAS! You Furnace is broken!
Yeah, it's gonna drop into the 20s tonight and my furnace won't cut on. Earlier this week the Gas company for Buford (City of Buford) cut our gas off because we made the mistake of letting our bill go four or five days late. So a $70.00 bill became $150.00. Apparently there is a $75.00 service charge to have someone treat us like a dick. Well, this past week it has been in the 70s so it hasn't come on since our gas was restored. But it was working three weeks ago when it was cold. Well, not now.
The only good news is that we have two furnaces, one upstairs, one down. So at least our bedrooms have heat.
***My loyal readers will recall that my upstairs A/C went out this past summer. No A/C upstairs, no Heat downstairs.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Sadness Sadness
I fell asleep on the job! I wasn't even a semi-pro Radio Station Contest Winner for 24 hours and I've already failed to complete my first gig. It seem the B98.5 $10,000.00 give-away was won last night while I was quite literally asleep.
I bet it was that jerk off Rene Belloq who won. He's always stealing my ideas.
Oh who am I kidding? I broke rule number 3. I didn't deserve to win. I will not be elevated to the rank of full PRO Radio Station Contest Winner.
I hope that my dear readers can forgive me for this horrible misfortune. Trust me I have suffered. I have had to listen to Simple Having a Wonderful Christmas Time 29 times this Christmas.
I bet it was that jerk off Rene Belloq who won. He's always stealing my ideas.
Oh who am I kidding? I broke rule number 3. I didn't deserve to win. I will not be elevated to the rank of full PRO Radio Station Contest Winner.
I hope that my dear readers can forgive me for this horrible misfortune. Trust me I have suffered. I have had to listen to Simple Having a Wonderful Christmas Time 29 times this Christmas.
Space Shuttles for Sale!
Hey everyone, the Space Shuttles are going up for sale! That's awesome, we can collect some money and buy one. The article I read today said they will cost a minimum of:
$42,000,000.00.
Honestly, that's a shitload less than you were expecting, right? I was expecting a huge amount more.
I was seriously considering it for a while (I have one millionth of the total saved up), but then I learned they have stipulations for any buyer. You have to keep the thing in a climate controlled environment. That could be a deal breaker for me because I don't think my garage is considered climate controlled. If it is we're golden, but I don't think it is.
Here is what I will propose to the committee. Every morning in the winter I can go to the garage, crank the shuttle up and let it run for twenty minutes or so with the heat on. I bet the Smithsonian wouldn't be so doting.
I really hope that I get one. I need a Space Shuttle for when the world economy finally collapses beyond repair and I need to get out of Dodge. I don't know where I'll go, or even how to get there, but my kids are pretty smart. We'll load the thing up with Chicken McNuggets and be outta here.
There's probably room on it for one or two other families. So if you are smart and really good looking I'll let you share my shuttle.
$42,000,000.00.
Honestly, that's a shitload less than you were expecting, right? I was expecting a huge amount more.
I was seriously considering it for a while (I have one millionth of the total saved up), but then I learned they have stipulations for any buyer. You have to keep the thing in a climate controlled environment. That could be a deal breaker for me because I don't think my garage is considered climate controlled. If it is we're golden, but I don't think it is.
Here is what I will propose to the committee. Every morning in the winter I can go to the garage, crank the shuttle up and let it run for twenty minutes or so with the heat on. I bet the Smithsonian wouldn't be so doting.
I really hope that I get one. I need a Space Shuttle for when the world economy finally collapses beyond repair and I need to get out of Dodge. I don't know where I'll go, or even how to get there, but my kids are pretty smart. We'll load the thing up with Chicken McNuggets and be outta here.
There's probably room on it for one or two other families. So if you are smart and really good looking I'll let you share my shuttle.
My new Job
Ok, I have thought of a new job. And the best part is that I don't have to send out resumes for it or interview. I just do it. That's awesome!
The job is Radio Station Contest Winner.
Duties: To listen to the radio and win whatever contest is currently running.
This job is a little more difficult than it seems, I think. First of all, it's contract work, so there's no security. And you don't get paid until the job is done. And you have to listen to a lot of really bad music and really bad jokes and some seriously arrogant and personality free "personalities." In addition to all of that you have to find the station with the best contest at the time and then you have to actually win it. So it clearly isn't "lazy," or "a giant dodge from responsibility," or "you gotta be f-ing kidding me," like your wife will say.
On the plus side there are a lot of really good contests out there, you just have to look for them. Also, you can do it while you moonlight at another job.
If you choose this profession here are some tips I've learned thus from. And yes, you can consider me a semi-pro, so this is mentoring:
1. If you are going to listen to the radio at work, and you really should if you are serious about this career, you need to have already thought of an excuse for when you have to get up in the middle of a meeting with your idiot boss. You CANNOT wait five minutes to call the station if the secret song plays. YOU HAVE TO GET TO A PHONE!
2. Sit close to the exit at church.
3. Learn to look like you are paying attention.
4. Teach your kids how to listen for the contest clues in the afternoon while you catch a nap. YOU CAN'T SLEEP AT NIGHT OR YOU'LL LOSE!
5. Respect yourself. No one else will.
The job is Radio Station Contest Winner.
Duties: To listen to the radio and win whatever contest is currently running.
This job is a little more difficult than it seems, I think. First of all, it's contract work, so there's no security. And you don't get paid until the job is done. And you have to listen to a lot of really bad music and really bad jokes and some seriously arrogant and personality free "personalities." In addition to all of that you have to find the station with the best contest at the time and then you have to actually win it. So it clearly isn't "lazy," or "a giant dodge from responsibility," or "you gotta be f-ing kidding me," like your wife will say.
On the plus side there are a lot of really good contests out there, you just have to look for them. Also, you can do it while you moonlight at another job.
If you choose this profession here are some tips I've learned thus from. And yes, you can consider me a semi-pro, so this is mentoring:
1. If you are going to listen to the radio at work, and you really should if you are serious about this career, you need to have already thought of an excuse for when you have to get up in the middle of a meeting with your idiot boss. You CANNOT wait five minutes to call the station if the secret song plays. YOU HAVE TO GET TO A PHONE!
2. Sit close to the exit at church.
3. Learn to look like you are paying attention.
4. Teach your kids how to listen for the contest clues in the afternoon while you catch a nap. YOU CAN'T SLEEP AT NIGHT OR YOU'LL LOSE!
5. Respect yourself. No one else will.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
So Daggum Frustrating and a review.
Ok, I'm not going to say who it is, but someone who sits at my boss's desk has a head like a box of rocks.
This person looks and acts like my boss and she's stupid as a cow's ass. And I don't like her. And in case I didn't mention it, I don't think she's very smart.
I used to have a pretty high degree of respect for the Commissioner, but then I found out that this chick was mentored by him. My lord. No vetting process.
People give the DOL a lot of flack because we rarely hire management positions from outside of the department. The reason for that is our business is relatively unique. And most instances where we have taken the risk have proved unfortunate.
Sadly, I'm afraid this woman will be considered an exception to that rule. But if you ask me she takes the cake. And it's a dim, thick headed cake, that has no clever idea of her own, parrots what I say to the Commissioner, bitches as me for giving my own opinion, and, when called on the carpet by the Commish in a meeting last month stared at the wall and gave the most nonsensical answer. Everyone in the class knew this kid didn't read the chapter. Even the Commissioner said that she would be held responsible.
REVIEW:
TRYING TO HIDE YOUR FAILINGS
F- for F-ing BAD MANAGEMENT
I made a spreadsheet that showed exactly how our section was doing well, and how it was, in some cases, not measuring up to its requirements. I was told in specific terms to 1. get rid of the columns that show where we have failed, or 2. change the title of the column so that it is not clear what this column displays or 3. change the data in the column so that it looks like we have done better than we have done.
booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
This person looks and acts like my boss and she's stupid as a cow's ass. And I don't like her. And in case I didn't mention it, I don't think she's very smart.
I used to have a pretty high degree of respect for the Commissioner, but then I found out that this chick was mentored by him. My lord. No vetting process.
People give the DOL a lot of flack because we rarely hire management positions from outside of the department. The reason for that is our business is relatively unique. And most instances where we have taken the risk have proved unfortunate.
Sadly, I'm afraid this woman will be considered an exception to that rule. But if you ask me she takes the cake. And it's a dim, thick headed cake, that has no clever idea of her own, parrots what I say to the Commissioner, bitches as me for giving my own opinion, and, when called on the carpet by the Commish in a meeting last month stared at the wall and gave the most nonsensical answer. Everyone in the class knew this kid didn't read the chapter. Even the Commissioner said that she would be held responsible.
REVIEW:
TRYING TO HIDE YOUR FAILINGS
F- for F-ing BAD MANAGEMENT
I made a spreadsheet that showed exactly how our section was doing well, and how it was, in some cases, not measuring up to its requirements. I was told in specific terms to 1. get rid of the columns that show where we have failed, or 2. change the title of the column so that it is not clear what this column displays or 3. change the data in the column so that it looks like we have done better than we have done.
booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Reality
I wish I lived in my son's world. It has it's problems, but for the most part I think it's the place to be.
I mean, at this time of year it would be great to jump into the head of kid again. All that belief. All of that ability to assimilate every magical thing into their daily lives. The feeling that Christmas if forever away, whether it's October 1st or December 20th.
When I was a kid I would sit on my couch in the dark listening to Christmas music and looking at the lights on the tree. I would dream I was one of the ornaments and that I lived in the tree. Every now and then I catch a whiff of something that brings back that old magic. That old feeling that I can slip into another reality. But mostly it is manufactured. Mostly I'm stuck here with the rest of us.
Not my son.
About three weeks ago he was picked to be a shepherd in the Nativity at church. When we got home I asked what the kids were going to be. My daughter said that she was going to be Mary and my son said that he was going to be a German shepherd. You know the German shepherd from the nativity. It's the one who sniffed out the cocaine hidden in the tunic of the fourth wise man.
Then, after we had established that he wasn't going to be a dog, he said that at the end of the Nativity play he and the other shepherds would get their shepherd powers. I really wish I had quizzed him as to what, exactly, those powers would have been. Flying? Laser vision? Tap Dance? I can see the next Marvel Comic, THE SHEPHERD! WAR JOURNAL. The first issue would be worth a mint, but the rest would blow.
There have been several incidences like this. They always make me laugh. We saw a TV show with a birth scene recently. The lady was sweating and grunting and clearly in pain. Rebecca and I were casually watching and not disturbed by her pain. And of course we explained to him that she was giving birth. Well last night as my brother-in-law and I watched Ronin, a much bloodier movie than I expected, we got to the scene where Robert Deniro is having a bullet removed from his side without anesthesia. My son came downstairs and saw it and said, "Is that man having a baby?" "No, he's not," I said and shooed him back upstairs. Then upstairs I heard him tell his mother that the guy on TV was having a baby. And then he asked her how old he had to be before he could have a baby.
And last, but not least, we were decorating for Christmas, because it is that time of year, and he was singing, "La la la la and the gifts for the king kong la la la la." And his sister says, "The song is about the wise men and Jesus. King Kong was not in the Nativity!"
And then, just like every other time when the truth was revealed to him, he said, "Oh." And a little bit of magic fizz bubbled out of his world. Leaving it just a little bit flatter.
I mean, at this time of year it would be great to jump into the head of kid again. All that belief. All of that ability to assimilate every magical thing into their daily lives. The feeling that Christmas if forever away, whether it's October 1st or December 20th.
When I was a kid I would sit on my couch in the dark listening to Christmas music and looking at the lights on the tree. I would dream I was one of the ornaments and that I lived in the tree. Every now and then I catch a whiff of something that brings back that old magic. That old feeling that I can slip into another reality. But mostly it is manufactured. Mostly I'm stuck here with the rest of us.
Not my son.
About three weeks ago he was picked to be a shepherd in the Nativity at church. When we got home I asked what the kids were going to be. My daughter said that she was going to be Mary and my son said that he was going to be a German shepherd. You know the German shepherd from the nativity. It's the one who sniffed out the cocaine hidden in the tunic of the fourth wise man.
Then, after we had established that he wasn't going to be a dog, he said that at the end of the Nativity play he and the other shepherds would get their shepherd powers. I really wish I had quizzed him as to what, exactly, those powers would have been. Flying? Laser vision? Tap Dance? I can see the next Marvel Comic, THE SHEPHERD! WAR JOURNAL. The first issue would be worth a mint, but the rest would blow.
There have been several incidences like this. They always make me laugh. We saw a TV show with a birth scene recently. The lady was sweating and grunting and clearly in pain. Rebecca and I were casually watching and not disturbed by her pain. And of course we explained to him that she was giving birth. Well last night as my brother-in-law and I watched Ronin, a much bloodier movie than I expected, we got to the scene where Robert Deniro is having a bullet removed from his side without anesthesia. My son came downstairs and saw it and said, "Is that man having a baby?" "No, he's not," I said and shooed him back upstairs. Then upstairs I heard him tell his mother that the guy on TV was having a baby. And then he asked her how old he had to be before he could have a baby.
And last, but not least, we were decorating for Christmas, because it is that time of year, and he was singing, "La la la la and the gifts for the king kong la la la la." And his sister says, "The song is about the wise men and Jesus. King Kong was not in the Nativity!"
And then, just like every other time when the truth was revealed to him, he said, "Oh." And a little bit of magic fizz bubbled out of his world. Leaving it just a little bit flatter.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Review: Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas Time
Hands down, "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time" is the worst Christmas song in the history of tonal music. It's the kind of song your friends sing loudly and obnoxiously just to tick you off.
I wouldn't be surprised to find out that it has been banned from being sung in heaven. I'd even go so far as to say that song, retroactively, is the reason Lucifer was kicked out of heaven. I bet Lucifer is one of those pranksters that pushes a joke that one step too far.
Lucifer: What do you mean I have to go live in a sea of fire?
God: Jesus tells me you won't quit bothering him.
Lucifer: Oh come on. It was a joke. You coddle that boy.
God: Don't tell me my business Luci. Jesus! Jesus, come here.
Jesus: What is it, pop?
God: Why am I banning Lucifer?
Jesus: Dad, I told you. He sang that song again.
Lucifer: Oh come on. Learn to laugh a little.
God: Lucifer. Jesus asked me to ban that song and so I did. And frankly I was glad to do it. That song is for shit and all humanity knows it.
Jesus: I could take the titty twister Lu, but that song. I hate it.
Beelzebub: What song?
Lucifer: Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time.
Beelzebub: Oh I love that one.
God: That's it. You're both out.
Beelzebub: What'd I do?
****
REVIEW:
SIMPLY HAVING A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS TIME:
for shit - and all of humanity knows it
I wouldn't be surprised to find out that it has been banned from being sung in heaven. I'd even go so far as to say that song, retroactively, is the reason Lucifer was kicked out of heaven. I bet Lucifer is one of those pranksters that pushes a joke that one step too far.
Lucifer: What do you mean I have to go live in a sea of fire?
God: Jesus tells me you won't quit bothering him.
Lucifer: Oh come on. It was a joke. You coddle that boy.
God: Don't tell me my business Luci. Jesus! Jesus, come here.
Jesus: What is it, pop?
God: Why am I banning Lucifer?
Jesus: Dad, I told you. He sang that song again.
Lucifer: Oh come on. Learn to laugh a little.
God: Lucifer. Jesus asked me to ban that song and so I did. And frankly I was glad to do it. That song is for shit and all humanity knows it.
Jesus: I could take the titty twister Lu, but that song. I hate it.
Beelzebub: What song?
Lucifer: Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time.
Beelzebub: Oh I love that one.
God: That's it. You're both out.
Beelzebub: What'd I do?
****
REVIEW:
SIMPLY HAVING A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS TIME:
for shit - and all of humanity knows it
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Coffee
Should coffee taste like pureed cardboard? I don't think it should.
The new secretary in our office makes the worst coffee in the world. I used to not really think about it. I thought coffee was coffee and the only way to make it taste better than horrible was to buy it at Starbucks. But when you do that you are not just paying with dollars. You are paying with calories.
Well, I was wrong. Apparently when one person puts coffee grounds into a filter and boils water over it, they do not necessarily get the same results as when someone else does the exact same thing. For example, when I make coffee it is a pretty typical hard dirty water flavor. But it is appreciable as coffee. When the new secretary makes it you would think you are drinking the boiled sweat of a dirt golem.
This coffee is the worst worst worst ever.
I personally would never consider firing someone for making horribly bad coffee. But I'm starting to think it might be a good reason to add to a list.
Department of Labor dude: Mr. Fleming, why did you fire Ms. Smith from her secretary position?
Me if I ever own my own company: Well, she couldn't alphabetize to save her life. She was always late for work. I warned her on three occasions. She routinely yelled at customers that they were talking too loudly when they were sitting quietly in the waiting room. She spoke to spirits. She kicked my father in the nuts. She stole $1000.00 from petty cash. And she made horrible coffee.
Department of Labor dude: Bad coffee? Really? Sounds like a bad apple to me.
The irony: I don't really like coffee. I only drink it because drinking a coke every morning was killing my teeth and making me fat.
The new secretary in our office makes the worst coffee in the world. I used to not really think about it. I thought coffee was coffee and the only way to make it taste better than horrible was to buy it at Starbucks. But when you do that you are not just paying with dollars. You are paying with calories.
Well, I was wrong. Apparently when one person puts coffee grounds into a filter and boils water over it, they do not necessarily get the same results as when someone else does the exact same thing. For example, when I make coffee it is a pretty typical hard dirty water flavor. But it is appreciable as coffee. When the new secretary makes it you would think you are drinking the boiled sweat of a dirt golem.
This coffee is the worst worst worst ever.
I personally would never consider firing someone for making horribly bad coffee. But I'm starting to think it might be a good reason to add to a list.
Department of Labor dude: Mr. Fleming, why did you fire Ms. Smith from her secretary position?
Me if I ever own my own company: Well, she couldn't alphabetize to save her life. She was always late for work. I warned her on three occasions. She routinely yelled at customers that they were talking too loudly when they were sitting quietly in the waiting room. She spoke to spirits. She kicked my father in the nuts. She stole $1000.00 from petty cash. And she made horrible coffee.
Department of Labor dude: Bad coffee? Really? Sounds like a bad apple to me.
The irony: I don't really like coffee. I only drink it because drinking a coke every morning was killing my teeth and making me fat.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
My Job
Last week I was in the office all the live long week. I had meetings here and there and everywhere, but mostly I was a good little troglodyte, sitting in my cave.
Three meetings of note:
Tuesday I was in a meeting with the Commissioner, Beverly (my boss) and Bill (my lesser-boss). I don't remember the time (or the day for that matter) but it was seriously profound.
Wednesday I had a Maximo meeting in our conference room at the 2 pm. It was totally cool (the meeting, not Maximo).
Thursday I conducted training in room 560. If that training had been a basketball game I'd have been Larry Bird. He's pretty good. I wouldn't have been Michael Jordan because, frankly, it wasn't a slam dunk. But I was pretty good. I'm sure there are other basketball players I could mention who are better than (and perhaps more contemporary) than Larry Bird, but who aren't quite as awesome as Michael Jordan. But I don't really like basketball, so I don't know them.
This week I will spend way too many daylight hours in my office. Unless I'm in the Call Center. So actually I'll be back and forth between here and there (next door - where the Call Center is).
On Thursday, according to my calendar, I have a LEx meeting which begins at 9:30 and an O*net meeting that begins at 9:30. This is a bit of a pickle that I haven't exactly consumed yet, as I'm not certain I can pallet it. (translation: I don't know if I can go to just one of them ((on account of the Call Center having just been born)) let alone both of them ((which I really can't do because I'm just one guy))).
Later I have yet another LEx meeting from noon until forever. And then, just after forever, I have a 2 o'clocker.
My job might not be "hard," but it takes some serious stamina to survive the mega-suck.
Three meetings of note:
Tuesday I was in a meeting with the Commissioner, Beverly (my boss) and Bill (my lesser-boss). I don't remember the time (or the day for that matter) but it was seriously profound.
Wednesday I had a Maximo meeting in our conference room at the 2 pm. It was totally cool (the meeting, not Maximo).
Thursday I conducted training in room 560. If that training had been a basketball game I'd have been Larry Bird. He's pretty good. I wouldn't have been Michael Jordan because, frankly, it wasn't a slam dunk. But I was pretty good. I'm sure there are other basketball players I could mention who are better than (and perhaps more contemporary) than Larry Bird, but who aren't quite as awesome as Michael Jordan. But I don't really like basketball, so I don't know them.
This week I will spend way too many daylight hours in my office. Unless I'm in the Call Center. So actually I'll be back and forth between here and there (next door - where the Call Center is).
On Thursday, according to my calendar, I have a LEx meeting which begins at 9:30 and an O*net meeting that begins at 9:30. This is a bit of a pickle that I haven't exactly consumed yet, as I'm not certain I can pallet it. (translation: I don't know if I can go to just one of them ((on account of the Call Center having just been born)) let alone both of them ((which I really can't do because I'm just one guy))).
Later I have yet another LEx meeting from noon until forever. And then, just after forever, I have a 2 o'clocker.
My job might not be "hard," but it takes some serious stamina to survive the mega-suck.
Horns
I got an e-mail at work today from a Susan Wormwood. She was whining with her mock niceness about how I wasn't doing my job correctly and if I had she'd have the certificates I'd promised her weeks ago.
I don't even know who Susan Wormwood is. She's probably a daemon. I should have quit this job the day they started allowing them to work here. The EEOC makes no provisions for hiring hoary hosts. I don't care that their knack for clerical work and bureaucracy is beyond compare. By hiring those devils (they smell of sulfur if you ask me) we are just inviting more to come here. MORE!!! Do we want that? This place is already crawling with their kind.
The next thing you know the Commissioner will be sending our good paying jobs to hell. No good will come of it.
When was the last time you saw an angel working for the Department of Labor, I ask you? This damned place.
...
ps. Turns out I do have an archived e-mail where I "might" have told Wormwood I'd have those certificates for her. I don't care. I don't need her fat, devil "pleases," and "I-hope-I'm-not-bothering-yous." Cloven hoofed baby.
I don't even know who Susan Wormwood is. She's probably a daemon. I should have quit this job the day they started allowing them to work here. The EEOC makes no provisions for hiring hoary hosts. I don't care that their knack for clerical work and bureaucracy is beyond compare. By hiring those devils (they smell of sulfur if you ask me) we are just inviting more to come here. MORE!!! Do we want that? This place is already crawling with their kind.
The next thing you know the Commissioner will be sending our good paying jobs to hell. No good will come of it.
When was the last time you saw an angel working for the Department of Labor, I ask you? This damned place.
...
ps. Turns out I do have an archived e-mail where I "might" have told Wormwood I'd have those certificates for her. I don't care. I don't need her fat, devil "pleases," and "I-hope-I'm-not-bothering-yous." Cloven hoofed baby.
Santa Wishes
Did you make your list for Santa yet? If you send your wishes to Santa, and you are good, he'll give you what you want.
I've never made a wish list for him because I know he won't give me anything. He told me a long time ago that I was bad and he'd never give me what I wanted. I was in fifth grade and it happened at school. Santa came walking into my class. He looked a lot like my teacher, and I thought he had boobs, but he was wearing red and had a beard so I knew it was him. Everyone got to sit on Santa's lap. Some boys got to sit longer than others. Anyway, I went to sit on his lap and he said, "Forget it, fat boy. You are a bad student and your heart is dead. You will never get anything out of me. Ass." The "ass" part was just cold.
I cried a lot. One of my friends tried to comfort me, but it was no use. I knew that life would suck from then on. That's actually how I learned that my parents didn't believe in Santa - because I got presents that year. Santa had cut me off, that part was clear. So the giant, bounteous haul I got that year must have come from my heathen parents and their non-believing ways. That's when I started peeing on their pillows once a week or so.
Shortly after that my dad gave away our dog to a farm in upstate Georgia. He said that the police had discovered Scruffy's true owners and that he didn't have a choice but to give him away. I remember it like it was yesterday because I had to help dad plant a really large tree seed in the back yard pretty deep. I think we planted it too deep because that tree never grew.
Dad was pretty upset, later, when the pillows continued to smell like pee. He went out and bought new pillows. And when those smelled like pee a week later we moved to a new house. He kept saying he was haunted by Scruffy's ghost. I told him that it was impossible because Scruffy was in a farm in upstate Georgia. He stuttered that I was right and he laughed a humorless laugh. But he grew increasingly paranoid and jerky. Over time he quit shaving, gained a lot of weight and grew out his beard. Eventually his hair turned white. Now he looks exactly like my fifth grade teacher.
I've never made a wish list for him because I know he won't give me anything. He told me a long time ago that I was bad and he'd never give me what I wanted. I was in fifth grade and it happened at school. Santa came walking into my class. He looked a lot like my teacher, and I thought he had boobs, but he was wearing red and had a beard so I knew it was him. Everyone got to sit on Santa's lap. Some boys got to sit longer than others. Anyway, I went to sit on his lap and he said, "Forget it, fat boy. You are a bad student and your heart is dead. You will never get anything out of me. Ass." The "ass" part was just cold.
I cried a lot. One of my friends tried to comfort me, but it was no use. I knew that life would suck from then on. That's actually how I learned that my parents didn't believe in Santa - because I got presents that year. Santa had cut me off, that part was clear. So the giant, bounteous haul I got that year must have come from my heathen parents and their non-believing ways. That's when I started peeing on their pillows once a week or so.
Shortly after that my dad gave away our dog to a farm in upstate Georgia. He said that the police had discovered Scruffy's true owners and that he didn't have a choice but to give him away. I remember it like it was yesterday because I had to help dad plant a really large tree seed in the back yard pretty deep. I think we planted it too deep because that tree never grew.
Dad was pretty upset, later, when the pillows continued to smell like pee. He went out and bought new pillows. And when those smelled like pee a week later we moved to a new house. He kept saying he was haunted by Scruffy's ghost. I told him that it was impossible because Scruffy was in a farm in upstate Georgia. He stuttered that I was right and he laughed a humorless laugh. But he grew increasingly paranoid and jerky. Over time he quit shaving, gained a lot of weight and grew out his beard. Eventually his hair turned white. Now he looks exactly like my fifth grade teacher.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
How could I have let it come to this? What kind of writer am I ever going to be if I don't practice writing every day?
I tell you what kind....
A technical writer.
Oh, God, the horror. What kind of legacy is that?
Teacher: Ok, kids, what did you learn about your family history?
My descendant: Teacher! My dad told me that my great, great, great, great grandfather wrote the instruction manual for the Georgia Department of Labor Call Center.
Teacher: Well, that's nice.
Some other kid: I found out last night that my great, great, great, great grandfather was Admiral Awesome and he lead the humans in the northern attack against the first alien invasion of 2016! It turned the tide of the war and we were all freed from slavery.
Teacher: That's magnificent Joey!
My descendant: Awe man. My history sucks.
Some other kids: It really does. You suck too.
*******
See how horrible a legacy that is? That's pretty much all I have so far. A stupid manual. Barf.
But I can turn it around with this blog. This one right here!
So far this year I have 62 posts. That is insufficient. I need to have at least 100 if I'm going to be a person who doesn't suck.
So that means I have 38 posts to go. Wish me luck!
I tell you what kind....
A technical writer.
Oh, God, the horror. What kind of legacy is that?
Teacher: Ok, kids, what did you learn about your family history?
My descendant: Teacher! My dad told me that my great, great, great, great grandfather wrote the instruction manual for the Georgia Department of Labor Call Center.
Teacher: Well, that's nice.
Some other kid: I found out last night that my great, great, great, great grandfather was Admiral Awesome and he lead the humans in the northern attack against the first alien invasion of 2016! It turned the tide of the war and we were all freed from slavery.
Teacher: That's magnificent Joey!
My descendant: Awe man. My history sucks.
Some other kids: It really does. You suck too.
*******
See how horrible a legacy that is? That's pretty much all I have so far. A stupid manual. Barf.
But I can turn it around with this blog. This one right here!
So far this year I have 62 posts. That is insufficient. I need to have at least 100 if I'm going to be a person who doesn't suck.
So that means I have 38 posts to go. Wish me luck!
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