i suppose its ironic that as i sit here, nearly a loss for words about my life; Frank Sinatra pops on to start crooning about how it was A Very Good Year. eesh. i dunno. im not sure where the whole feeling even started. at one point during the day though, it kind of hit me. some asshat, missing 3 teeth, sporting a nascar shirt and a lack of deoderant, decided to tell me that i have some kind of fucking attitude problem. i didnt even say anything. he stared at me. i shrugged. because hes probably right. my attitude, is problematic to keep dealing with trailer trash allstars, about why they plug their toilet every time they shit. hes absolutely right about that.
i just really cant figure out what it is im supposed to do. i suppose it shouldnt make any difference to how i work. but it does. and, i think, its stupid to expect it any differently. my boss mentioned something about, if i liked working there. and i honestly answered him; "no, i dont" he asked me why not. and i told him. "work is something i do to afford my leisure" which is to mean, i dont work because i like it... i only work so i can have the money to do what i want to do. and thats not unreasonable. because what kind of social nutcase, would actually enjoy matching fat asses to plastic seats, day in and day out. no one.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
i suppose its ironic that as i sit here, nearly a loss for words about my life; Frank Sinatra pops on to start crooning about how it was A Very Good Year. eesh. i dunno. im not sure where the whole feeling even started. at one point during the day though, it kind of hit me. some asshat, missing 3 teeth, sporting a nascar shirt and a lack of deoderant, decided to tell me that i have some kind of fucking attitude problem. i didnt even say anything. he stared at me. i shrugged. because hes probably right. my attitude, is problematic to keep dealing with trailer trash allstars, about why they plug their toilet every time they shit. hes absolutely right about that.
i just really cant figure out what it is im supposed to do. i suppose it shouldnt make any difference to how i work. but it does. and, i think, its stupid to expect it any differently. my boss mentioned something about, if i liked working there. and i honestly answered him; "no, i dont" he asked me why not. and i told him. "work is something i do to afford my leisure" which is to mean, i dont work because i like it... i only work so i can have the money to do what i want to do. and thats not unreasonable. because what kind of social nutcase, would actually enjoy matching fat asses to plastic seats, day in and day out. no one.
i just really cant figure out what it is im supposed to do. i suppose it shouldnt make any difference to how i work. but it does. and, i think, its stupid to expect it any differently. my boss mentioned something about, if i liked working there. and i honestly answered him; "no, i dont" he asked me why not. and i told him. "work is something i do to afford my leisure" which is to mean, i dont work because i like it... i only work so i can have the money to do what i want to do. and thats not unreasonable. because what kind of social nutcase, would actually enjoy matching fat asses to plastic seats, day in and day out. no one.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
i walk out of that store every time, shaking my head, going "why, oh god, why are they this incompetent?" should you ever special order or custom order an item, the store will NOT refund it, exchange it, or credit you in any form, even if the product arrives damaged, non functional, or is simply the wrong thing all together. how rediculous is that? hell, most stores dont bat an eye at the product if you flash a receipt. not this place. even if the Pope walks in, blesses it, and sprinkles holy water on the receipt; "its yours" sigh. its just disgusting. the back story is some woman was quite upset that the 400 some dollar air conditioner she ordered didnt work... it pumps out warm, black, oil scented air. with receipt. paid for by store charge account. she comes in today, then gets abruptly told "sorry, but its yours" how the hell do you say that? if someone walked up, gave me 400 dollars, id bend over backwards to keep them happy. not this place. but then again, this is also the store that decides.. if a competetor is RETAILING an item for less than they do, they will go and physically buy out all of the competetor's stock. yes. now what the hell sense does that make? instead of letting the competetor get hosed on that deal, you walk over, pay retail price [which is far higher than your cost] and double the stock you sell at twice the cost.... what sense does any of this make? seriously... i wonder how this place stays in business with brilliance like this.
ofcourse, pointing a specific problems is like mopping the decks on the Titanic. we had to sit through a rediculous department meeting tonight. i walked away from it with fewer braincells than when i walked in. regardless. 2 of them sat and made fun of me the whole time, asking me why i didnt wear my sunglasses this time [at 10pm], or how much of a fag i must be because my shirt was tucked in, plus the somethingerothers about living at home, something about being a college graduate selling toilet seats, then something about how the cashiers were complaining that not only was it bad enough i was ugly, but then i started talking to them. i didnt say anything. why argue. so what. even if i would, obviously its just me against 7 people then; and it only makes them start it up everytime i see them. ive been called alot of things worse than that. but i also believe that i probably deserved it when i was called those things. at this point, im just sitting through the same boring meeting they are, not saying anything. it dawned on me that these are people that spent 15 years working for the same company to become a 2nd assistant department head. or worse. they watch nascar. they listen to new age country music. they all drive "street" pick up trucks. and most of them are married or well on the way to it. thats fine. im also the new person. thats fine. im fat. thats fine. sure, im ugly too. thats fine. yeah, im always going to be single. thats fine. but fucking step back off the college graduate remarks. in the worst way, that was the only thing i wanted to defend myself about. because even if everything else is true; this is the one thing i worked my ass off to do. i didnt work my ass off to be the new guy at some stupid redneck lumber yard, or to be 50 pounds over weight, or practice really hard to end up lonely... i didnt put in effort to be pathetic with women, or to find a kind of music i like that everyone else hates... but i sure as hell put in the effort to get where i am. i didnt flunk out of a community college and end up selling toilets. and thats the only thing i really took offense to. maybe i should have said something. but instead i just sat there grinding my knife into the side of the desk while they all jerked around. i just wanted to go home. i opened the store. worked a full day for one 10 minute break. then had to kill 4 hours until i could come back and sit through all of this shit again tonight. what a night. what a great place to work at.
ofcourse, pointing a specific problems is like mopping the decks on the Titanic. we had to sit through a rediculous department meeting tonight. i walked away from it with fewer braincells than when i walked in. regardless. 2 of them sat and made fun of me the whole time, asking me why i didnt wear my sunglasses this time [at 10pm], or how much of a fag i must be because my shirt was tucked in, plus the somethingerothers about living at home, something about being a college graduate selling toilet seats, then something about how the cashiers were complaining that not only was it bad enough i was ugly, but then i started talking to them. i didnt say anything. why argue. so what. even if i would, obviously its just me against 7 people then; and it only makes them start it up everytime i see them. ive been called alot of things worse than that. but i also believe that i probably deserved it when i was called those things. at this point, im just sitting through the same boring meeting they are, not saying anything. it dawned on me that these are people that spent 15 years working for the same company to become a 2nd assistant department head. or worse. they watch nascar. they listen to new age country music. they all drive "street" pick up trucks. and most of them are married or well on the way to it. thats fine. im also the new person. thats fine. im fat. thats fine. sure, im ugly too. thats fine. yeah, im always going to be single. thats fine. but fucking step back off the college graduate remarks. in the worst way, that was the only thing i wanted to defend myself about. because even if everything else is true; this is the one thing i worked my ass off to do. i didnt work my ass off to be the new guy at some stupid redneck lumber yard, or to be 50 pounds over weight, or practice really hard to end up lonely... i didnt put in effort to be pathetic with women, or to find a kind of music i like that everyone else hates... but i sure as hell put in the effort to get where i am. i didnt flunk out of a community college and end up selling toilets. and thats the only thing i really took offense to. maybe i should have said something. but instead i just sat there grinding my knife into the side of the desk while they all jerked around. i just wanted to go home. i opened the store. worked a full day for one 10 minute break. then had to kill 4 hours until i could come back and sit through all of this shit again tonight. what a night. what a great place to work at.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
i dont know why im posting now. just kind of bored... sitting at the keys... figured i could do something here. its just that, i absolutely detest people who dont post. granted; they are higher on the totem pole, than the people that only post meme's and song lyrics 40 times per day; but not much. for the life of me; if you felt like you had something important to say, why dont you all tell it? sometimes i kind of feel like im the only person will to keep throwing my thoughts out here on the void. its much more comforting when you arent alone. but. i dunno. i guess on some level were all alone. all the time. on some level, there never is a way we can connect to anybody else. there are those moments where you can think to yourself how close you can be to the person next to you; but really that six inches of space can be miles. by proximity we often seem to equate closeness. connectivity. union. but i just cant come past the point of understanding how on every level we can be something with someone else. im not sure what im working at here. im probably talking circles around my own thought. but on the drive home tonight, i thought about how people can be close that are far apart. i thought about how people can be far apart that are close. i thought about how you can sit at the same table with someone youve known for years, look in their eyes, and just read the reaction that they are miles removed from that seat at the table. and it puzzles me, how we dont always understand that for what it means in life. that on some level, you cant ever be totally conected to anybody else. in a way, i hoped that i could reconnect on something with a friend of mine tonight. if nothing else, a heartfelt 10 minute coversation about where we've been, and where were going. and you stop in look in their eyes and see thats not an interest. its not a mood. its not a phase. its not a [un]sociable outlook. and i thought about how we, as people, end up creating a void around us sometimes. its a space we keep that cleaves the continum between you and me. it keeps you out. it strangles me in. but its fundamental in understanding the people around you. because we all fight for connection on different levels. but finding out on what planes we make those breaks.... those slight cecessions... thats how we find out how far apart we are from each other; when we try to connect again.
so... something else. myspace. i cant see how this is an addiction for anyone. i really dont. but i will say how nifty it is. im running into people from high school and farther back id have never heard from again, by using it. very cool. flip side of that is, its going to be harder and harder to disappear from people like that, with something like myspace being available. but i love how school districts are banning it left and right. friendster, myspace, facebook, third reich, kkk, black panthers, taliban... all of these are malicious groups, which we can not tolerate our nations youth joining into. for shits sake. while there are some 13 year old girls out there somewhere, stripping off their training bras and taking pictures for the internet to see; its hardly ban-worthy. if you want to start a mess about censoring websites, or information from kids; you better come up with a damn clear reason as to why.... and present that to them. dont come at me with "a kid bragged about being a drug dealer on it" or "there are boobies" or "dateline nbc caught people looking to have sex with kids"... god. because when Stone Phillips becomes the defacto standard of evolving educational policy for this nation; we know we arent getting honest answers. the real answer, like why cell phones and pagers were banned... like why certain kinds of clothing were banned... like why walkmans were banned... etc. is because the governing generation has no idea what to make of it yet. they just dont get what myspace is about. sure. you can show them. yes. you can set up and account for them. but they just arent going to get it. so they fear it. then they ban it. then it just gets absurd after a while. pagers used to be only for drug dealers. that was the line they gave us. how about a kid waiting on an organ transplant, did they know that the state sometimes hands out pagers to recipiants for that? in a post 9-11 world, what if someones in dire need of help after a catastrophe, wouldnt a cell phone in the school, in a kids backpack, come in handy? never. we just keep aiming to make policy based on the worst case scenario in this country. myspace is now inclusive of that.
so... something else. myspace. i cant see how this is an addiction for anyone. i really dont. but i will say how nifty it is. im running into people from high school and farther back id have never heard from again, by using it. very cool. flip side of that is, its going to be harder and harder to disappear from people like that, with something like myspace being available. but i love how school districts are banning it left and right. friendster, myspace, facebook, third reich, kkk, black panthers, taliban... all of these are malicious groups, which we can not tolerate our nations youth joining into. for shits sake. while there are some 13 year old girls out there somewhere, stripping off their training bras and taking pictures for the internet to see; its hardly ban-worthy. if you want to start a mess about censoring websites, or information from kids; you better come up with a damn clear reason as to why.... and present that to them. dont come at me with "a kid bragged about being a drug dealer on it" or "there are boobies" or "dateline nbc caught people looking to have sex with kids"... god. because when Stone Phillips becomes the defacto standard of evolving educational policy for this nation; we know we arent getting honest answers. the real answer, like why cell phones and pagers were banned... like why certain kinds of clothing were banned... like why walkmans were banned... etc. is because the governing generation has no idea what to make of it yet. they just dont get what myspace is about. sure. you can show them. yes. you can set up and account for them. but they just arent going to get it. so they fear it. then they ban it. then it just gets absurd after a while. pagers used to be only for drug dealers. that was the line they gave us. how about a kid waiting on an organ transplant, did they know that the state sometimes hands out pagers to recipiants for that? in a post 9-11 world, what if someones in dire need of help after a catastrophe, wouldnt a cell phone in the school, in a kids backpack, come in handy? never. we just keep aiming to make policy based on the worst case scenario in this country. myspace is now inclusive of that.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
story
im not about to set the world on ear here... but when youre the the chief executive of the united states of america, rapidly degrading to a single digit approval rating with the general public; allowing a brash political move... say like alloting the department of justice to seek a warrantless search and seizure on the office of a democratically elected member of congress... its not going to help your self image. see.... make it worse on yourself yet; you pick some low-ball problem like coercive legislation or bribery, against an opposing political party member, and then carry it out on federal property in the Rayburn Office building on a saturday night. richard nixon's ghost, thinks that was probably not a good idea W. and for the life of me, there hasnt been anything spoken about this really. maybe because the congressman in question was taped taking bribes... maybe because the later search of his residence found the bribe money in his freaking freezer... but appearantly this ISNT newsworthy? lost blonde girl in aruba is getting more headlines than this mess; and thats not right.
when you have both political party's leadership coming short of denouncing the action; youve likely worked yourself in to a corner. a corner thats not going to be favorable when you need to pass your tax and appropriations bill through that house of congress this year. you know... its not that its a member of congress that bugs me. its not that its purely politcal that bugs me. its that it was carried out on a saturday night, with no warrant, for something like bribes. something that happens every freaking day in DC. sigh. it was clear when we nailed up James Trafficant, from ohio, a few years back, that it was somewhat politcally charged... but even then, they took out warrants, had hearings, then sent him off to trial. and they had him dead to rights... but now, we pull out the Justice Department, ransack a federal congressional office, and dont bother to get this one written up before we head out. and where is it that people are coming across with the thoughts of not trusting their president? where do we come up with outlandish ideas about the 4th amendment... even granting members of congress additional privilege under the law; but we cant call one judge first. not one.
look. im not crying about busting yet another rotten member of congress. im not sad to see him go. but what shocks me is how we go about doing it. once i matured and started thinking about how our system of laws is based, it took me a long time to wrap my mind around the decisions the Warren and Burger courts made to how we arrive at justice in this country. but for crying out loud, if its a sitting member of congress, how will it help you to bring him down in this way? i just cant figure this out. and people are going to start moaning about bush did this, bush is bad, bush is evil; and in all likelihood it was something only mentioned to him at a meeting that morning. but the story is going to turn out to be a real motherfucker, if anything turns up calling anyone less than clean about this whole thing...
im not about to set the world on ear here... but when youre the the chief executive of the united states of america, rapidly degrading to a single digit approval rating with the general public; allowing a brash political move... say like alloting the department of justice to seek a warrantless search and seizure on the office of a democratically elected member of congress... its not going to help your self image. see.... make it worse on yourself yet; you pick some low-ball problem like coercive legislation or bribery, against an opposing political party member, and then carry it out on federal property in the Rayburn Office building on a saturday night. richard nixon's ghost, thinks that was probably not a good idea W. and for the life of me, there hasnt been anything spoken about this really. maybe because the congressman in question was taped taking bribes... maybe because the later search of his residence found the bribe money in his freaking freezer... but appearantly this ISNT newsworthy? lost blonde girl in aruba is getting more headlines than this mess; and thats not right.
when you have both political party's leadership coming short of denouncing the action; youve likely worked yourself in to a corner. a corner thats not going to be favorable when you need to pass your tax and appropriations bill through that house of congress this year. you know... its not that its a member of congress that bugs me. its not that its purely politcal that bugs me. its that it was carried out on a saturday night, with no warrant, for something like bribes. something that happens every freaking day in DC. sigh. it was clear when we nailed up James Trafficant, from ohio, a few years back, that it was somewhat politcally charged... but even then, they took out warrants, had hearings, then sent him off to trial. and they had him dead to rights... but now, we pull out the Justice Department, ransack a federal congressional office, and dont bother to get this one written up before we head out. and where is it that people are coming across with the thoughts of not trusting their president? where do we come up with outlandish ideas about the 4th amendment... even granting members of congress additional privilege under the law; but we cant call one judge first. not one.
look. im not crying about busting yet another rotten member of congress. im not sad to see him go. but what shocks me is how we go about doing it. once i matured and started thinking about how our system of laws is based, it took me a long time to wrap my mind around the decisions the Warren and Burger courts made to how we arrive at justice in this country. but for crying out loud, if its a sitting member of congress, how will it help you to bring him down in this way? i just cant figure this out. and people are going to start moaning about bush did this, bush is bad, bush is evil; and in all likelihood it was something only mentioned to him at a meeting that morning. but the story is going to turn out to be a real motherfucker, if anything turns up calling anyone less than clean about this whole thing...
Friday, May 19, 2006
being my first day off of the week, i decided i should do something. but i slept in. about 10:30 i wake up. mad, because i wanted to get things done, but happy because i slept from about 11pm till then and appearantly didnt roll or toss or move once in my sleep. but i woke up to the familiar chirp of IM. sometimes im tired and lazy enough to leave my speakers on, and generally i dont hear it. today i slept through my alarm. but this woke me up. one message. one ding. and im glad it did. i got to talk to sarah, and she and i hadnt really spoken for quite a while. so after an hour and a half, i thought maybe the day would be ok. thats when i got the phone call about my visa card. that wasnt so good. i ended up mowing and trimming the yards. guh. then stopping at the shop to get my tire fixed. normally, id do this myself. but ive never had a roofing nail go through the deep portion of my tread, stay imbedded, and hardly leak. i wasnt certain, when i looked at it in the day light yesterday, that it had penetrated the inner piles... so i wasnt sure whether or not id have to use a liquid sealant and a tube patch, or just a patch. if i guessed wrong, say for a tube only [aka a plug], i wouldnt be able to seal through the air sealing piles, and it would be much too big a space for liquid sealant. so i broke down and took it in. 14 dollars later, they fixed it and i was back in business. while i waited for them to re assemble i ventured around the shop looking at various chemicals. and i spied a red bottle... called Mothers Back-To-Black. if anyone has seen the jeep, youve noticed the sun/uv fade thats greyed out my handles, rock guards and bumper trim. supposedly this bottle would change that. in the past ive run into shit that claims to work, but its either slimy armor-all wannabes that dont alter the color, or they are just dyes to match the color back. so i bought the bottle. and i have to say, im quite impressed. so much so, that i didnt even know that my rear bumper had a black stripe on it. that impressed. i washed it good with water, let it dry. then applied this stuff on it. and as soon as i put it on, i was in awe. seriously. if you have a car thats got some sun fade on vinyl, plastic, and misc non-metal trim... try this. i couldnt believe it. anyways, just rather bored and was quite excited about how well it detailed out the car. its noticeable.
my first run in with fraudulent credit card use came yesterday. no. I didnt do it. about 4pm, i received a call from visa. after the standard 39 questions to authenticate that i was myself, i was informed that someone was attempting to secure a purchase for 659 dollars on a website using my card. i was shocked. it wasnt that id ever protested that this would never happen to me. i guess, though, i never knew it would have been so easy for it to happen. other than that, visa couldnt tell me anything else. wouldnt mention if they knew who was using my card number, or what they were going to do about it. instead, they were closing out my account and reissuing me a new account. and im still somewhat in shock about it.
Monday, May 15, 2006
random thought.
you ever just read something on a webpage, and have it kill something inside of you? i guess its different for everyone... but stumbling across something on a webpages can just kill a mood. really fast. like if youd see a relative had died in an accident; or they were raising property tax 25% percent; or that your ex-wife remarried a son of a billionaire, who is half your age with twice your hair. something that just knocks the wind out of your proverbial sails. but it shouldnt. i dont know anymore. sometimes i guess i hold this image in my head. just a simple fantasy. thats, i guess, divergent from reality just enough to make me happy. not alot. im not a king, im not rich, im not famous. but its just something that i can close my eyes and go, "that would really make me happy now" and to flip around the web and find something that pokes a needle in the vein to burst it. sigh.
you ever just read something on a webpage, and have it kill something inside of you? i guess its different for everyone... but stumbling across something on a webpages can just kill a mood. really fast. like if youd see a relative had died in an accident; or they were raising property tax 25% percent; or that your ex-wife remarried a son of a billionaire, who is half your age with twice your hair. something that just knocks the wind out of your proverbial sails. but it shouldnt. i dont know anymore. sometimes i guess i hold this image in my head. just a simple fantasy. thats, i guess, divergent from reality just enough to make me happy. not alot. im not a king, im not rich, im not famous. but its just something that i can close my eyes and go, "that would really make me happy now" and to flip around the web and find something that pokes a needle in the vein to burst it. sigh.
so some old crazy woman came in the store today. she had 3 plungers in her cart. while im helping someone, i look over and see her SNIFFING the plungers. first one, then the second, then the third. then the second again. then all of them. why i do not know. so i finish my sentence to a guy about a sump pump, and this crazy woman pushes her cart into me, gives me some derrnaged, "im out on bail and im fucking nuts!!!!" stare, and shrieks at me....
"how do you get the stink out?"
i blink.
"well how do you get the stink out of them?"
she goes back to putting the cup of the plunger an inch from her face, and starts furiously snorting. i laugh at her. the customer i was helping looks freightened. so i tell her she should wash it some scented soap once or twice.
"will that take the STINK OUT?!", as she rolls her eyes around and stops sniffing.
....
what the hell is wrong with people.....
"how do you get the stink out?"
i blink.
"well how do you get the stink out of them?"
she goes back to putting the cup of the plunger an inch from her face, and starts furiously snorting. i laugh at her. the customer i was helping looks freightened. so i tell her she should wash it some scented soap once or twice.
"will that take the STINK OUT?!", as she rolls her eyes around and stops sniffing.
....
what the hell is wrong with people.....
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
i woke up this morning, with some kind of fixation on this thought.... not that it was a dream... just with the idea of being left to freeze to death.... and for some reason, at the hand of my friends... and it all kept playing out like this to me.
i open my eyes, to find myself sitting, huddled, on the ground. at first, all i noticed was the near blinding snow, that was stinging my eyes. then i felt the cold. i felt colder than id ever been before. as if ice water was poured over me, but wouldnt run off. i reach my arms up to my shoulders to huddle up, and i notice that i have no sleeves. no gloves. no shirt. no pants. no shoes. im completely naked, and im sitting on a patch of ice. the cold is all i feel. the wind gusts and rips through my hair, blowing more ice and snow particles to my eyes. i try not to cry, but i cant help it. but i feel the tears harden and crystalize before they fall from my lower eye lid. i can feel the tears expand and solidify, cutting into my skin. as i breathe in, it burns my lungs. the cold air sears its way into my nose and mouth, shocking my body into taking in half the amount of air it wants to. i can feel my nasal passages freezing. the cold is all i can feel. for the first time, i open my eyes, and look around. i had to have come from somewhere. about 30 feet away, i see faces. people i know. friends. maybe more. all of them are watching me. every one is dressed warmly. they all seem to be comfortable. but im shivering. shuddering against the wind each time it picks up and blows into my pores. my fingers to my wrists are numb. painfully numb. with work i move them from the first joint, but no farther. my legs from my knees down wont respond. and they all stand by. each holds an article of clothing. my clothing. all of them stare. they look. but they say nothing. they watch me, as im freezing to death, stripped of everything i had to clothe myself with against the world. i look at their eyes. i look hard. i try to open my mouth, to plead... to beg for what was mine. but my lips rip and bleed. they had frozen together. i can feel the blood seep down to my chin where it freezes. and they watch. i try to scream. but i cant keep enough air in my lungs. its too cold out. and my body is doing all it can to keep from freezing. it prevents me from taking in more cold air. and i watch as my skin has turned to white-blue in places. i look at them. there are no tears for me. no one moves to me. and some turn their backs and walk away. i just want to scream, WHY? WHY? but its clear, im being left to die. thats the only thought that pushes out the cold. that this is how i will die. alone. stripped bare. left to the elements. and watched. this is how im going to die. the cold is nearly paralyzing me. i cant fight it. i cant move. my vision is blury. my eyes cant stay moist. my arms are useless, and my hands have frozen over my elbows. there is no feeling left. just the cold. i let my head go down. afraid to look anymore at myself, and ashamed to look at these people. the agony of dying alone... of freezing to death as a spectacle at the hands of the people you trust and called friends... i cant watch it. i would cry for myself, because someone should. but no one around me will. they just look at me. as a rock. as a lifeless chunk, slowly turning to ice. i feel sharp stings in my back. i cant life my head, its become too hard to move. but i can turn it some and look side ways to see someome behind me. somehow, i can see what i can not actually see. they take small barbs, that are heated and push them into my skin, then pull them out. its torture. because i cant feel the touch of the sharp edges... but the heat burns my skin and nerves and produces the pain sensation for me. i can feel what they are doing. until they pull and rip them out. each takes their chunk of me. ripping and tearing me apart in small inch sections. watching the skin crack. seeing it flake apart. feeling the chilled blood ooze out to freeze in the tears. i can only close my eyes now. taking my last shallow breaths, i remember each of their faces. each one. each persons look. their eye color. the shape of their nose. the hint of freckles. the mole. that scar. that smile. this hair color. all of it. and somehow i can see them walk off, without seeing them. theyve left me now. and i am alone, left for dead.
i open my eyes, to find myself sitting, huddled, on the ground. at first, all i noticed was the near blinding snow, that was stinging my eyes. then i felt the cold. i felt colder than id ever been before. as if ice water was poured over me, but wouldnt run off. i reach my arms up to my shoulders to huddle up, and i notice that i have no sleeves. no gloves. no shirt. no pants. no shoes. im completely naked, and im sitting on a patch of ice. the cold is all i feel. the wind gusts and rips through my hair, blowing more ice and snow particles to my eyes. i try not to cry, but i cant help it. but i feel the tears harden and crystalize before they fall from my lower eye lid. i can feel the tears expand and solidify, cutting into my skin. as i breathe in, it burns my lungs. the cold air sears its way into my nose and mouth, shocking my body into taking in half the amount of air it wants to. i can feel my nasal passages freezing. the cold is all i can feel. for the first time, i open my eyes, and look around. i had to have come from somewhere. about 30 feet away, i see faces. people i know. friends. maybe more. all of them are watching me. every one is dressed warmly. they all seem to be comfortable. but im shivering. shuddering against the wind each time it picks up and blows into my pores. my fingers to my wrists are numb. painfully numb. with work i move them from the first joint, but no farther. my legs from my knees down wont respond. and they all stand by. each holds an article of clothing. my clothing. all of them stare. they look. but they say nothing. they watch me, as im freezing to death, stripped of everything i had to clothe myself with against the world. i look at their eyes. i look hard. i try to open my mouth, to plead... to beg for what was mine. but my lips rip and bleed. they had frozen together. i can feel the blood seep down to my chin where it freezes. and they watch. i try to scream. but i cant keep enough air in my lungs. its too cold out. and my body is doing all it can to keep from freezing. it prevents me from taking in more cold air. and i watch as my skin has turned to white-blue in places. i look at them. there are no tears for me. no one moves to me. and some turn their backs and walk away. i just want to scream, WHY? WHY? but its clear, im being left to die. thats the only thought that pushes out the cold. that this is how i will die. alone. stripped bare. left to the elements. and watched. this is how im going to die. the cold is nearly paralyzing me. i cant fight it. i cant move. my vision is blury. my eyes cant stay moist. my arms are useless, and my hands have frozen over my elbows. there is no feeling left. just the cold. i let my head go down. afraid to look anymore at myself, and ashamed to look at these people. the agony of dying alone... of freezing to death as a spectacle at the hands of the people you trust and called friends... i cant watch it. i would cry for myself, because someone should. but no one around me will. they just look at me. as a rock. as a lifeless chunk, slowly turning to ice. i feel sharp stings in my back. i cant life my head, its become too hard to move. but i can turn it some and look side ways to see someome behind me. somehow, i can see what i can not actually see. they take small barbs, that are heated and push them into my skin, then pull them out. its torture. because i cant feel the touch of the sharp edges... but the heat burns my skin and nerves and produces the pain sensation for me. i can feel what they are doing. until they pull and rip them out. each takes their chunk of me. ripping and tearing me apart in small inch sections. watching the skin crack. seeing it flake apart. feeling the chilled blood ooze out to freeze in the tears. i can only close my eyes now. taking my last shallow breaths, i remember each of their faces. each one. each persons look. their eye color. the shape of their nose. the hint of freckles. the mole. that scar. that smile. this hair color. all of it. and somehow i can see them walk off, without seeing them. theyve left me now. and i am alone, left for dead.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
so another post about nonsense i guess. all in all, life is settling into a groove again. maybe a rut. but i doubt its deep enough to be a rut. to put any wandering minds to rest; they have me working 6 days a week. generally the shitty hours no one else takes. i tend to be the only person out of the shift that sticks around to deal with customers. everyone else runs off. sometimes i find them upstairs, sometimes out back, sometimes i have to page them on the store pa several times to find out where they go to. i think for the most part im getting comfortable with what i do. but atleast once per day someone comes in asking for something just totally off the wall, or just complains about how they dont like me. ive also found the employees to be rather clique-ish. im not really accepted among 90% of them. and i guess, its just hard to remember what that feeling was like; because its just been so long since ive been dumped into a situation like that. the copier gig never really let me deal with anyone but customers. at staples, after about 2 weeks id made friends with a couple people that broke me over with the whole store. at the res hall goverments, i knew everyone. i guess id have to go back to working at the newspaper or the craft store for that "we dont like you new-hire" attitude. but really, even at the newspaper, i didnt have that. once i was accepted by 2 people thats all that mattered. the other people really werent high-functioners that i dealt with. remember.... this is the place that hired a girl with mental disabilities and carried a cabbage patch doll to work; and had the two rednecks that argued one day over who's mother taught whom better to survive in the wilderness. shudder. such a dirty place. so maybe in a way its like that time. i really worked there because i had no other choices; and because it was 3rd shift and allow me to beatup on myself a little when no one else was really around. in this respect, its somewhat the same, and somewhat the opposite. this time im constantly around people. i just never get to be around the people i want to be around. and i beat myself up worse than ever. unloading 300 pound cabinets, or 500 pound whirlpools for people. its all pretty much the same day, over and over. thats where that rut part comes in i guess. i work. i get a 20 minute lunch. i eat the same thing for lunch. i go back to work. after that, i go home. my parents are usually asleep. i sit and stare at the computer for a couple minutes. then try to sleep. and thats about it. its not what i expected to happen to my life. and not at this price, either.
i guess i envisioned myself doing it for more money. the same boredom. the same general disatisfaction. the same sense of expecting to have more than i do. but maybe bumped up a notch. from down here, none of it seem so nice to think about. if anything, its depressing to think about it more than i should. i guess, that maybe its the universe balancing out. the karmatic process of leveling out for me. for several years, i guess i had lots of excitement, and chances for lots more. so maybe now, as penalty, i dont get any chances. i become hapless. not helpless. but not far from it.
i guess i envisioned myself doing it for more money. the same boredom. the same general disatisfaction. the same sense of expecting to have more than i do. but maybe bumped up a notch. from down here, none of it seem so nice to think about. if anything, its depressing to think about it more than i should. i guess, that maybe its the universe balancing out. the karmatic process of leveling out for me. for several years, i guess i had lots of excitement, and chances for lots more. so maybe now, as penalty, i dont get any chances. i become hapless. not helpless. but not far from it.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Si, Se, Puede
Yesterday was the great walk out day for emmigrant mexicans in America. Lets call it what it was. While the groups maintain other agendas, such as human rights, or hispanic or latino rights; it really is about mexican emigrants. Its about a one way path from mexico to the united states for permanance. There wasnt chanting about sweat shop labor, or ship breakers in india. There wasnt anyone of Spanish descent. See the term Hispanic really means a person from the Iberian penninsula, a place in latin, known as Hispania. Latino is a generic term often afforded too, but it means a localized geography of latin american states. No one was from El Salvador that I met. No one was from Columbia. Everyone was from mexico. And when I say "i met", I mean yesterday there was a large demonstration from Illinois crossing the Mississippi River to Iowa, culminating in a rally of sorts. And I attended.
I wasnt sure what to expect. For my generation, there really only was Rodney King, as far as ethnic uprisings to watch. King had a different circumstance. People probably should be outraged with what happened to him. However, I remember being in 6th or 7th grade, and watching all the black kids get up and walk out. They were angry. Some started running around yelling "black power" but in reality it was nothing. Since then, I sat through who-knows-how-many hours of classroom work in sociology. Even one course just on Social Movements. So for me to see this type of situtation develop, was like taking Einstein and giving him a seat for atomic testing. It gives him the result of everything he sat and contemplated, but could never really see happen. So I wanted to see it happen. The entire issue has blown up to national focus. But all along, its keeping a strong locally rooted support from interested parties. So when they declared some sort of action, i wanted to watch. And i found myself sitting on the steps of the Rock Island County Court House, watching nearly 3,000 people line up to walk across the Centenial Bridge.
I thought about why it mattered. It didnt really matter to me. In what I do with my daily life, illegal immigrants dont really have much impact. And I dont necessarily buy into the arguments of "human rights" they had been talking about. For me, there was that academic connection; watching lightning strike. That. And there is a historical connection. My great-grand parents were illegal. Its very likely that they never registered and became documented. Victor and Felicetes Alvarado came here from some small town near north-central Mexico City, sometime from 1900 to 1919. The story goes that he came here looking for work, hitched his way up on the railroad, wound up in bumblefuck illinois and got work in a farmfield, and eventually a factory, then sent for his bride back from Mexico to meet him in Texas. Problem was, the wrong sister came to the Rio Grande, and floated across the river with him, and by the time he saw her it was too late; and he ended up marrying the wrong sister. But the first offical documentation we have found between them and any branch of government, is their listing on the US Census. They were marked as undocumented. My dad tells stories of visiting his grandparents; and his grandmother who would never answer the door. She would always run upstairs to the attic and look out a small window with a curtain. She was worried, even at that age, of the immigration officials. He also says that she would follow the railroad tracks to walk into town, never using the lit, public streets and sidewalks. She wanted to remain unseen, where the police or who-knows-whom, couldnt find her. Ive seen their house. Its unused, and abandoned now. But the window and its curtain are still their. And the railroad tracks, also gone mostly forsaken now, still run not far from the house. I could hardly visualize it. A dark haired, spanish speaking woman walking along the rails at night, taking the back way into a town as small and sleepy as Kewanee, IL, in the 1950's. A woman so entrenched in fear, she would always look first before opening the door to her own home. They never owned a phone. She never really learned english. But she was family to me, even though she died 15 years before I was born.
As I sat on the steps, I felt like I should be moved. That I should have been moved to wear a white t-shirt and walk with these people. Or, that I should be moved to protest against it. Again, there is a strong pull from myself that recongnizes the problems with offering amnesty or guest work permits. There was the part of me as a sociologist, that I should have been motivated to do more studying, talking to the crowd, more interviewing, more documenting. But I just wasnt moved very far from the steps. I sat watching everyone else act out. I knew my history. I knew how I came to be. But even so, I took pictures and sat and thought about it all.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
so it rained today. about 3 inches worth. people knew it was going to rain. its been raining since friday. but. at 6pm, an hour before the store closes; half of rock island comes in trying to buy sump pumps. people were screaming, stomping around, bitching and moaning about water in the basement, water on the stairs, water in the drains, water on the brain.... sigh. just idiocy on a mass level. we sold 34 sump pumps in less than 2 hours. we sold 70 packages of drainage hose. and still, people are complaining. but really. its been raining since friday. it rained all day; is it really a rush now? when the water probably has been collecting all weekend? sigh.
todays winners also included... "Do you sell okra? No? Its not a food. Give me someone who knows a damn about plumbing then." Four of us had never heard of okra. other than as a food. we all refused to tell mister idiot, that its oakum. its jute cord soaked in oil. but we let him babble on about okra. thank god it wasnt oprah.
another tall young woman, with her very short boyfriend admitted to me that they needed a bigger shower because sometimes they use it together. i laughed, and made a flippant comment about how rushed it gets in the mornings sometimes. she corrected me that they have sex in it. appearantly; that was supposed to help find a shower for them. i dunno.
some idiot asked me if a specific plunger worked right. it was one with accordian pleats in it. i told him, "no... it works fine, but it tends to catch stuff in all those pleats in it" he looked at me. 'what kind of stuff?' i reminded him we were talking about whatever it was hes blocked his toilet up with. he didnt say anything. but his wife wrinkled up her nose. thankfully someone understood.
i had a customer demand to open a box because he wanted to see the color of the finish. so we did. then he said hed buy it, but only one that hadnt been opened. and he refused to take the one he just watched me open.
a woman called on the phone asking about drainage kits for cinder-block walls. i told her we sell them in a kit and by pieces. she asked how much per foot. i told her 48" pieces are 22 dollars. well, she asks how much the kit is. i tell her its 287 dollars, and does 30 linear feet. she gets mad. "what the hell does that mean?" i explain to her that if you put all the pieces in a line, it was go 30 feet. she didnt get it, and told me to stop talking down to her. then complained that i wouldnt tell her how much per foot the pieces cost. i told her each four foot section was 22 dollars. she still claimed i was using big words and was trying to cheat her.
the hot cashier came around trying to put away returns. i tried to make small talk with her. it turns out shes 18. sigh. she asked how old i was. i told her i was 25. "eww gross, and youre hitting on me!" sadly i wasnt. she did mention something to me later about how she didnt think i was that old. sigh. but she told me that one cashier working that day was 36. which surprised me, because i figured that person was younger than i was.
another wonderful time at menards.
todays winners also included... "Do you sell okra? No? Its not a food. Give me someone who knows a damn about plumbing then." Four of us had never heard of okra. other than as a food. we all refused to tell mister idiot, that its oakum. its jute cord soaked in oil. but we let him babble on about okra. thank god it wasnt oprah.
another tall young woman, with her very short boyfriend admitted to me that they needed a bigger shower because sometimes they use it together. i laughed, and made a flippant comment about how rushed it gets in the mornings sometimes. she corrected me that they have sex in it. appearantly; that was supposed to help find a shower for them. i dunno.
some idiot asked me if a specific plunger worked right. it was one with accordian pleats in it. i told him, "no... it works fine, but it tends to catch stuff in all those pleats in it" he looked at me. 'what kind of stuff?' i reminded him we were talking about whatever it was hes blocked his toilet up with. he didnt say anything. but his wife wrinkled up her nose. thankfully someone understood.
i had a customer demand to open a box because he wanted to see the color of the finish. so we did. then he said hed buy it, but only one that hadnt been opened. and he refused to take the one he just watched me open.
a woman called on the phone asking about drainage kits for cinder-block walls. i told her we sell them in a kit and by pieces. she asked how much per foot. i told her 48" pieces are 22 dollars. well, she asks how much the kit is. i tell her its 287 dollars, and does 30 linear feet. she gets mad. "what the hell does that mean?" i explain to her that if you put all the pieces in a line, it was go 30 feet. she didnt get it, and told me to stop talking down to her. then complained that i wouldnt tell her how much per foot the pieces cost. i told her each four foot section was 22 dollars. she still claimed i was using big words and was trying to cheat her.
the hot cashier came around trying to put away returns. i tried to make small talk with her. it turns out shes 18. sigh. she asked how old i was. i told her i was 25. "eww gross, and youre hitting on me!" sadly i wasnt. she did mention something to me later about how she didnt think i was that old. sigh. but she told me that one cashier working that day was 36. which surprised me, because i figured that person was younger than i was.
another wonderful time at menards.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
since people always like it when i do this... so starting just after midnight... i knew today was going to be fucked up. the past few days ive been getting sicker and sicker... by brother was nice enough to come home and spread ebola/hanta/mumps/whatever, hacking and weezing all over. although my mom swears i cant have what he has... because its affecting me worse.....
12:15. im sick. i cant breathe. my throat is on fire. my neck is so swollen its not comfortable to put my head down. and then the vomit hits. its not that id been nauseous. its all the mucus and shit draining that did it. regardless. it came up.
2:22. cant sleep. im alternating chills and fever. this time its fever, so i get up to get some cold wash cloths, and find myself unable to fall asleep again.
3:15. hacking and coughing up yellow shit so loud, that the dog comes downstairs. still not a peep from parents. i make it back to the bathroom in enough time to barf up more mucus.
3:45. i sit in my desk char, wrap up with a blanket, and just try to stay comfortable as possible.
5:10 alarm goes off. i managed about an hour of sleep. and now i get to go to work.
5:32 after coming out of the shower i realize i have no matching socks, only bright red boxers, dirty pants and dirty shirts to wear. fucking fantastic. i hack up something brown in glee.
5:40 they are watching stupid fucking Today show. i HATE the Today show. i also realize there isnt any good cereal left to eat. only oat bran shit. fucking disgusting. i look for soup, strain the noodles out and eat it instead. besides, noodles will just be ammunition they way im feeling.
5:55 no ice cubes. someone ahem. took the last in their 215 cans of soda per day consumption; so there isnt any for my waterbottle. i get warm water to drink today. i make some comment about. im told my brother is sick, that i should lay off it. i cough so hard i have to sit down. its insisted that im faking it.
6:01 get in the car. atleast dave and darren are funny this morning. eventhough my head hurts so bad i cant keep the volume up enough to hear it.
6:10 somewhere downtown davenport, a random sneeze... i blow yellow and brown shit all over my window. fucking great.
6:30 lane closures on the I-74. some stupid ass lawn truck lost shit off the back. sitting in traffic, about 3 miles backed up, i wonder why the snot isnt dry on the window yet
6:48 i get to walmart in moline, hopefully with enough time to buy some dope. they dont sell much in heroin strength. so i get fist fucked for 4.76 on a bottle of throat spray and 3 dollars for a bag of ass flavored cough drops. aww fuck it. i open the bag and start munching on some on my way.
6:51 get in line to check out. as usual. walmart only can afford 3 people who are smart enough to handle cash. walmart somehow can attract 65 customers at that point in the day. all of which seem to be beating their children.
6:58 three back in line, i sneeze again. so hard that i cant see straight. im lucky i have tissue to catch it. which is layered in green, brown, and now chimpanzee's hemroid red. at first it scared me. then i realize it was a hunk of cough drop that came out in it. some brats stare at me. i like the cough drop back off the tissue and keep waiting. the brats shriek. the mother of brats decides i can got first.
7:06 late to work. no one says shit. i tell my boss im late. he shruggs. i tell him im sick. he shruggs. i tell him i forgot what a water heater does. he shruggs. i vomit most of a lamb spleen on his desk. he shruggs.
7:38 after not seeing a single customer with 5 teeth, clean shoes, or 3 brain cells to waste my time on, i disappear to find something to drink. at the water fountain i stop to release something green and red. im pleased at the consistency.
8:14 ive been standing around putting away the same 6 pieces of copper pipe for about a half hour before anyone notices. and then its my boss... "when you get done putting that pipe out, could you help this guy in faucets"
8:16 1 brain cell, 1.5 teeth, 2 muddy shoes. he wants a facuet in a bag. its 8 dollars. he reminds its for a mobile home. i interject that its a trailer. and this faucet is junk. he thinks it looks nice. he has no real questions. he wants a friend. i cough several times. a deep healthy coal miner's cough. he mentions i should probably go see "dat dem dere doctors" hes obviously the brightest mind ive encountered so far.
8:25 some asshat wants a sump pump pit. he doesnt trust computers. he makes me walk to the other end of the store, out into the yard, and out in the back corner to find them and see that one is clean and nice. i hack something up in a tissue, smile and walk outside.
8:27 while walking around the yard, i stop to gawk at the receiving chick. normally this is a job done by men. shes built. but she shaves her legs. im at a loss for words. she stops and looks at me in some kind of "whaddus maddah wit you" looks. i spit out a massive green gob. she nods then goes back to lifting 50 pound cinder blocks.
8:36 i find the damn sump pits. clean one off, so i can lie and say it was clean, then head back in. as i walk away, i swear i hear someone blaring old school anthrax. something off Fist Full of Metal. i realize for the first time my head doesnt hurt today. then some fag comes flying past me in a forklift, and just chucks a pallet of galvenized pipe. that makes the head hurt.
9:10 i decide im taking a break. im not scheduled till much later. but all these coughdrops made me hungry. and the garbage in the vending machine would probably taste like snot anyhow. as im sitting there eating egg salad on rye, which tastes like thickened snot; i watch Lacey cashier. shes possibly the hottest girl in the store. shes the kind that tans all the time. dark hair. atleast C's. and she knows it. she already told me that i was creepy. that might be. but i cant even taste how awful this egg salad is. life could be worse.
9:28 i punch back in late again, to find my boss shrugging to some customer. he hands me the phone. now im responsible for shit. i eat more coughdrops.
9:29 phone rings. some cashier cant figure out if this pipe is copper or iron. i remind her that iron pipe is painted black. copper, looks like a penny.
9:20 phone rings. some one in wall coverings says a "guest" wants help in selecting a plunger. im baffled why hed look in the wall paper aisles for that. the employee doesnt think its such a stetch.
9:22 old man with oxygen tank wants help picking out a toilet plunger. we have 3 kinds. one is all plastic. one has a wood handle and rubber cup. and the third is the same as the second, just half the size. he mentions to me that turds dont flush, and he feels that its a conspiracy from those democrats to save the environment to save water and drown us in turds. i laugh. i want to ask if he just poops too much. but i realize my nose is running down my face.
9:25 i give the phone back to my boss. he shruggs. then i wipe my nose. he reccomends that i should see a doctor. i remind him they dont offer me medical insurance, and they dont pay me enough to afford a doctors office visit at full price. he shruggs. i remind him its probably just AIDS anyhow. he shruggs.
9:58 i manage to walk around a while unnoticed, until someone wants me to shop for them, from a list of 60 parts. he clearly has no idea what hes doing. i ask. he says its all standard parts; "you know its a standard house". that makes all the difference. for shits i ask him, "is it a two car garage or three?" he says 2. so i get him fitting in 1.5 inch sizes. its all a guess anyhow.
10:25 with our list complete he leaves, and some massive woman comes up to me. who smells like open ass. she asks me if the handicap booster seats for toilets support more than 350 pounds. im amazed at the question. in the worst way i want to tell her to take a dump in the bathtub instead, it would be safer. but i sneeze instead.
10:31 i go back to the desk. my boss looks at me. i remind him im sick. he shruggs. i stand there for a while.
10:36 i decide im going to build a grill. so i start opening a box. preferably the most complex looking one i can find. this way i can sit down and look busy.
10:50 my grill is coming along nicely, when some mexican wants help finding a natural gas line. "mas... mas lonquer?" thats the only english he gives me. "mas lonquer" i remind him that 60 inch is the longest we have. "mas lonquer" no. "mas... mas...." no, no mas. "lonquer?" no, god dammit.... Es mas corto, NO ES MAS LARGO. he gets that. but i dont get how i remembered any spanish.
10:56 mexican with gas line comes back, smiling. he has duck tape, and two packages of gas line. i stop him and try my best to explain how thats not a great idea. he seems to have it planned out. i shake my head. hes not detered. i make the international symbol for explosion and say BOOM!. he gets it. and puts them back.
11:12 my gril is done. it looks odd. i realized its electric. its stainless steel and kind of resembles R2D2 with an I-beam in his ass. its 150 dollars.
11:15 i declare im bored. boss shruggs. i sneeze, get light headed. and boss looks at me.
11:20 boss finally tells me to put away some freight. its cleaning supplies. its in the aisle.
11:22 as i start to put away the stuff, i realize its liquid bleach. why does a hardware store carry liquid bleach. some customer nags at me. i turn around and bring a jug down to my side.
11:23 customer keeps complaining about how they think 5mil trash bags are too thick, but 3mil are too thin, and why we dont carry a 4mil. i smell bleach.
11:24 customer leaves, i realize the bottle leaks. i realize the leak was stopped. i realize the stoppage was my pants. a nice white-blue streak running down my leg.
11:30 after using the bathroom sink to try and dilute the bleach, i realize i now have discolorations in these pants. if im lucky i wont have holes. i wonder why the shit couldnt leak on the floor or something less important. but the smell of bleach is making me dizzy. i sit down on a toilet and shut the stall door.
11:45 i cough up a couple things, then decide to go back out. on the way i pass the checkout lines. the old man with the oxygen tank is returning the plunger. its wrapped in a bag. he looks proud of himself. i hope that...
11:46 i get to the desk in time to catch the ringing phone. the cashier want me to take back a plunger. "it looks wet"
11:48 i eat more cough drops in anticpation.
11:49 mystified casher comes briskly walking back carrying a plunger in a bag. she sets it on the ground and leaves. sure enough its wet. i realize that pulling a fast on the elderly may be harder than we think. take that environmentalist wackos.
12:01 some one runs a cart into a pallet of sprinkler parts. i look at it for a while.
12:15 i decide i need to get something to drink, so i head to the back. i realize that i havent coughed anything up lately. when i get to the receiving door, i can smell the trash in the dumpster. i promptly spit something brown out.
12:17 chick from receiving walks over and looks at me. she asks if im new. i say "sorta" she asks how i think the nfl draft will turn out. i laugh. i tell her i think football is kind of gay. she ask what sports i like. i mention baseball, this time of year. after that she doesnt say anything. so i leave. sneezing once.... a nice misty cloud. no solid chunks!
12:20 i get back to the desk, my boss says i should take the rest of the day off. i agree. he shruggs. i punch out. blow my nose. and leave.
12:24 i get to the parking lot to see two things wrong with the jeep. first. my rear tire is almost completely flat. second the side window looks like a doberman flew over and shit on it. i dont say anything. just spit out something brown.
12:28 after cracking the spare out, and getting it jacked up. i remember something. dad didnt listen to me, and used the air wrench to put the lugs back on.
12:40 several nasty words, brown splotches galore, and red and sore hands later, i have the wheel off and changed. i get back in the jeep and look at the dried snot on the window. its disgusting. i roll it down to spit, and manage to make it right on my arm instead.
1:15 i pull into the drive way at home. go to find something to drink, realize someone has once again, drank all the cold soda. i get warm soda. its not like im sick. i look for food, find that the only food we have is crap my parents eat. i hate minnestrone soup. lean pockets are ass. and velveta cheese isnt very good. we have plain turkey for lunch meat. and only plain chips. gone are the days where i had GOOD lunch meat, and FLAVORED fucking doritos to eat.
1:17 i sit down at my computer, sniff, and remember the trash can of crap from the night before has been sitting there ranking around my room. whatever.
1:18 i lay down and try to sleep for an hour, before my "sick" brother comes home, coughing and hacking.
so far.... thats been it..
12:15. im sick. i cant breathe. my throat is on fire. my neck is so swollen its not comfortable to put my head down. and then the vomit hits. its not that id been nauseous. its all the mucus and shit draining that did it. regardless. it came up.
2:22. cant sleep. im alternating chills and fever. this time its fever, so i get up to get some cold wash cloths, and find myself unable to fall asleep again.
3:15. hacking and coughing up yellow shit so loud, that the dog comes downstairs. still not a peep from parents. i make it back to the bathroom in enough time to barf up more mucus.
3:45. i sit in my desk char, wrap up with a blanket, and just try to stay comfortable as possible.
5:10 alarm goes off. i managed about an hour of sleep. and now i get to go to work.
5:32 after coming out of the shower i realize i have no matching socks, only bright red boxers, dirty pants and dirty shirts to wear. fucking fantastic. i hack up something brown in glee.
5:40 they are watching stupid fucking Today show. i HATE the Today show. i also realize there isnt any good cereal left to eat. only oat bran shit. fucking disgusting. i look for soup, strain the noodles out and eat it instead. besides, noodles will just be ammunition they way im feeling.
5:55 no ice cubes. someone ahem. took the last in their 215 cans of soda per day consumption; so there isnt any for my waterbottle. i get warm water to drink today. i make some comment about. im told my brother is sick, that i should lay off it. i cough so hard i have to sit down. its insisted that im faking it.
6:01 get in the car. atleast dave and darren are funny this morning. eventhough my head hurts so bad i cant keep the volume up enough to hear it.
6:10 somewhere downtown davenport, a random sneeze... i blow yellow and brown shit all over my window. fucking great.
6:30 lane closures on the I-74. some stupid ass lawn truck lost shit off the back. sitting in traffic, about 3 miles backed up, i wonder why the snot isnt dry on the window yet
6:48 i get to walmart in moline, hopefully with enough time to buy some dope. they dont sell much in heroin strength. so i get fist fucked for 4.76 on a bottle of throat spray and 3 dollars for a bag of ass flavored cough drops. aww fuck it. i open the bag and start munching on some on my way.
6:51 get in line to check out. as usual. walmart only can afford 3 people who are smart enough to handle cash. walmart somehow can attract 65 customers at that point in the day. all of which seem to be beating their children.
6:58 three back in line, i sneeze again. so hard that i cant see straight. im lucky i have tissue to catch it. which is layered in green, brown, and now chimpanzee's hemroid red. at first it scared me. then i realize it was a hunk of cough drop that came out in it. some brats stare at me. i like the cough drop back off the tissue and keep waiting. the brats shriek. the mother of brats decides i can got first.
7:06 late to work. no one says shit. i tell my boss im late. he shruggs. i tell him im sick. he shruggs. i tell him i forgot what a water heater does. he shruggs. i vomit most of a lamb spleen on his desk. he shruggs.
7:38 after not seeing a single customer with 5 teeth, clean shoes, or 3 brain cells to waste my time on, i disappear to find something to drink. at the water fountain i stop to release something green and red. im pleased at the consistency.
8:14 ive been standing around putting away the same 6 pieces of copper pipe for about a half hour before anyone notices. and then its my boss... "when you get done putting that pipe out, could you help this guy in faucets"
8:16 1 brain cell, 1.5 teeth, 2 muddy shoes. he wants a facuet in a bag. its 8 dollars. he reminds its for a mobile home. i interject that its a trailer. and this faucet is junk. he thinks it looks nice. he has no real questions. he wants a friend. i cough several times. a deep healthy coal miner's cough. he mentions i should probably go see "dat dem dere doctors" hes obviously the brightest mind ive encountered so far.
8:25 some asshat wants a sump pump pit. he doesnt trust computers. he makes me walk to the other end of the store, out into the yard, and out in the back corner to find them and see that one is clean and nice. i hack something up in a tissue, smile and walk outside.
8:27 while walking around the yard, i stop to gawk at the receiving chick. normally this is a job done by men. shes built. but she shaves her legs. im at a loss for words. she stops and looks at me in some kind of "whaddus maddah wit you" looks. i spit out a massive green gob. she nods then goes back to lifting 50 pound cinder blocks.
8:36 i find the damn sump pits. clean one off, so i can lie and say it was clean, then head back in. as i walk away, i swear i hear someone blaring old school anthrax. something off Fist Full of Metal. i realize for the first time my head doesnt hurt today. then some fag comes flying past me in a forklift, and just chucks a pallet of galvenized pipe. that makes the head hurt.
9:10 i decide im taking a break. im not scheduled till much later. but all these coughdrops made me hungry. and the garbage in the vending machine would probably taste like snot anyhow. as im sitting there eating egg salad on rye, which tastes like thickened snot; i watch Lacey cashier. shes possibly the hottest girl in the store. shes the kind that tans all the time. dark hair. atleast C's. and she knows it. she already told me that i was creepy. that might be. but i cant even taste how awful this egg salad is. life could be worse.
9:28 i punch back in late again, to find my boss shrugging to some customer. he hands me the phone. now im responsible for shit. i eat more coughdrops.
9:29 phone rings. some cashier cant figure out if this pipe is copper or iron. i remind her that iron pipe is painted black. copper, looks like a penny.
9:20 phone rings. some one in wall coverings says a "guest" wants help in selecting a plunger. im baffled why hed look in the wall paper aisles for that. the employee doesnt think its such a stetch.
9:22 old man with oxygen tank wants help picking out a toilet plunger. we have 3 kinds. one is all plastic. one has a wood handle and rubber cup. and the third is the same as the second, just half the size. he mentions to me that turds dont flush, and he feels that its a conspiracy from those democrats to save the environment to save water and drown us in turds. i laugh. i want to ask if he just poops too much. but i realize my nose is running down my face.
9:25 i give the phone back to my boss. he shruggs. then i wipe my nose. he reccomends that i should see a doctor. i remind him they dont offer me medical insurance, and they dont pay me enough to afford a doctors office visit at full price. he shruggs. i remind him its probably just AIDS anyhow. he shruggs.
9:58 i manage to walk around a while unnoticed, until someone wants me to shop for them, from a list of 60 parts. he clearly has no idea what hes doing. i ask. he says its all standard parts; "you know its a standard house". that makes all the difference. for shits i ask him, "is it a two car garage or three?" he says 2. so i get him fitting in 1.5 inch sizes. its all a guess anyhow.
10:25 with our list complete he leaves, and some massive woman comes up to me. who smells like open ass. she asks me if the handicap booster seats for toilets support more than 350 pounds. im amazed at the question. in the worst way i want to tell her to take a dump in the bathtub instead, it would be safer. but i sneeze instead.
10:31 i go back to the desk. my boss looks at me. i remind him im sick. he shruggs. i stand there for a while.
10:36 i decide im going to build a grill. so i start opening a box. preferably the most complex looking one i can find. this way i can sit down and look busy.
10:50 my grill is coming along nicely, when some mexican wants help finding a natural gas line. "mas... mas lonquer?" thats the only english he gives me. "mas lonquer" i remind him that 60 inch is the longest we have. "mas lonquer" no. "mas... mas...." no, no mas. "lonquer?" no, god dammit.... Es mas corto, NO ES MAS LARGO. he gets that. but i dont get how i remembered any spanish.
10:56 mexican with gas line comes back, smiling. he has duck tape, and two packages of gas line. i stop him and try my best to explain how thats not a great idea. he seems to have it planned out. i shake my head. hes not detered. i make the international symbol for explosion and say BOOM!. he gets it. and puts them back.
11:12 my gril is done. it looks odd. i realized its electric. its stainless steel and kind of resembles R2D2 with an I-beam in his ass. its 150 dollars.
11:15 i declare im bored. boss shruggs. i sneeze, get light headed. and boss looks at me.
11:20 boss finally tells me to put away some freight. its cleaning supplies. its in the aisle.
11:22 as i start to put away the stuff, i realize its liquid bleach. why does a hardware store carry liquid bleach. some customer nags at me. i turn around and bring a jug down to my side.
11:23 customer keeps complaining about how they think 5mil trash bags are too thick, but 3mil are too thin, and why we dont carry a 4mil. i smell bleach.
11:24 customer leaves, i realize the bottle leaks. i realize the leak was stopped. i realize the stoppage was my pants. a nice white-blue streak running down my leg.
11:30 after using the bathroom sink to try and dilute the bleach, i realize i now have discolorations in these pants. if im lucky i wont have holes. i wonder why the shit couldnt leak on the floor or something less important. but the smell of bleach is making me dizzy. i sit down on a toilet and shut the stall door.
11:45 i cough up a couple things, then decide to go back out. on the way i pass the checkout lines. the old man with the oxygen tank is returning the plunger. its wrapped in a bag. he looks proud of himself. i hope that...
11:46 i get to the desk in time to catch the ringing phone. the cashier want me to take back a plunger. "it looks wet"
11:48 i eat more cough drops in anticpation.
11:49 mystified casher comes briskly walking back carrying a plunger in a bag. she sets it on the ground and leaves. sure enough its wet. i realize that pulling a fast on the elderly may be harder than we think. take that environmentalist wackos.
12:01 some one runs a cart into a pallet of sprinkler parts. i look at it for a while.
12:15 i decide i need to get something to drink, so i head to the back. i realize that i havent coughed anything up lately. when i get to the receiving door, i can smell the trash in the dumpster. i promptly spit something brown out.
12:17 chick from receiving walks over and looks at me. she asks if im new. i say "sorta" she asks how i think the nfl draft will turn out. i laugh. i tell her i think football is kind of gay. she ask what sports i like. i mention baseball, this time of year. after that she doesnt say anything. so i leave. sneezing once.... a nice misty cloud. no solid chunks!
12:20 i get back to the desk, my boss says i should take the rest of the day off. i agree. he shruggs. i punch out. blow my nose. and leave.
12:24 i get to the parking lot to see two things wrong with the jeep. first. my rear tire is almost completely flat. second the side window looks like a doberman flew over and shit on it. i dont say anything. just spit out something brown.
12:28 after cracking the spare out, and getting it jacked up. i remember something. dad didnt listen to me, and used the air wrench to put the lugs back on.
12:40 several nasty words, brown splotches galore, and red and sore hands later, i have the wheel off and changed. i get back in the jeep and look at the dried snot on the window. its disgusting. i roll it down to spit, and manage to make it right on my arm instead.
1:15 i pull into the drive way at home. go to find something to drink, realize someone has once again, drank all the cold soda. i get warm soda. its not like im sick. i look for food, find that the only food we have is crap my parents eat. i hate minnestrone soup. lean pockets are ass. and velveta cheese isnt very good. we have plain turkey for lunch meat. and only plain chips. gone are the days where i had GOOD lunch meat, and FLAVORED fucking doritos to eat.
1:17 i sit down at my computer, sniff, and remember the trash can of crap from the night before has been sitting there ranking around my room. whatever.
1:18 i lay down and try to sleep for an hour, before my "sick" brother comes home, coughing and hacking.
so far.... thats been it..
Sunday, April 09, 2006
incase anyone wonders about me... ive been around. *yawn* yep. i finally got a job somewhere. menards in moline hired me to work in plumbing. what possessed them to do that, i still dont know. i think i had a functional understanding of how to fix basic home plumbing, but the questions and crap people come up with is far from what ive ever done. ive done a couple toilets, several sinks, drains galore, and know my way around threads and soldering pretty well... but on that first day.... i wasnt prepared for it. at menards, plumbing is grouped with "housewares" which means all the random crap they buy. soap, garbage cans, mailboxes, gloves, candy, grills, water coolers. all of that stuff; PLUS plumbing pipes, fixtures, parts, etc. and dont forget sinks, cabinets, faucets, shower heads, mirrors, and the like. and the things you wouldnt think of as plumbing; like furnaces, heat pipe, exhaust vents, duct work, and some roofing supplies. and dont forget bathtubs, toilets, whirpools, sauna's and everything else that gets special ordered. i would guess we have approximately 25% of the footage of the sales floor. its simply a huge amount of crap. i also was shocked to learn that there usually is only 2 people covering it all. sometimes 1. not good. so that sets it up a bit for my first day....
some old farmer comes in. pushing a cart with something black in it. when he walks up to me, i notice two things.... 1) its dripping something funky 2) it smells something awfully funky. turns out it was something out of his septic system. and yes, it was leaking liquid poop. appearantly, i was not only supposed to know what he needed, but i was supposed to take it apart FOR him to do it. yikes. id been there all of 2 hours at that point. what a way to start.
i havent really made up my mind about it all. i will say that i miss staples. all else aside, menards has a terrible sense of stock/supply. staples inventory practices, and stock guarantees--- even if sometimes annoying to deal with as an employee --- were always noticed by customers. this place could have open pegs for months and not know it. they dont do yearly inventory. stuff is randomly shipped in, sometimes correlating to sales of items and orderpoints, but not always. planograms are awful. overstock is chaotic at best. and there just isnt much in the way of fall back options when youre out and people get pissed. staples would eat 20 bucks in shipping costs to get you a 3 dollar widget if you really wanted it. menards couldnt tell you if they had one... ever. but its a hardware store. crap comes in everyday by the truck loads, and my guess is the employees are generally immune to the idea of keeping up on it. it seems like there is always freight laying around. in piles. on pallets. in the aisles. on top of other products. in cases in the wrong places. just made me want to vomit coming from a system like staples. secondly, the cleanliness is a bit off. dust just cakes up in this place. shop-worn [ragged, yellow packaging] product is all over the place. things are dumped on end caps for no reason. products get 43 facings for 8 items; 2 facings for 8594 items. it just feels throw together at times. even during back to school times and christmas; staples .... errr ted... would see to it that the store could do a total tear down and reset before wed open for business the next day. around here, they have stock people working before 5am, and some not leaving till 10pm and it looks like hell. ofcourse, i found out the plumbing department also does more on average, in a day, than my staples store would do in a day. i guess its just a different environment altogether.
its also a place filled with "lifers" as we call it. my department manager, has 13 years in. the two assistant managers have 10 and 14. the full timer has 13. its just amazing. several other things make it amazing. the opening pay rate isnt bad for retail, but raises are pathetic... 10 cents. and to qualify you have to take paper exams. and thats a once a year thing. they do something called instant profit sharing; but require you to work 1,000 hours in a calendar year first. then you can earn 2.5% back of what you already made. in realworld math; it works out to about one extra pay check. before its hit with tax. which... the company considers a gift and hits it a 42%. *shakes head* im not sure how worth it that can be. the other thing which i didnt like... paying for purchases.... to get the 10% discount, you have to pay with your namebadge. the namebadge links to your payroll. post taxes. and you still will pay sales tax on top of that. its also capped at 70% of the previous week's earnings. so. you cant buy a skid of shingles to do your roof. no big purchases get discounts. but it encourages lots of little incidental purchases. soda, candy, small tools... hmm.. just like the ones they made me buy. not only did i have to pay for my gay vest [11 dollars], but i have to pay for any all all shirts id want , as well as "the tools to perform my job"... meaning, the old company store is back in business for the miners! i had to "buy" my box cutter, holster, pliers, holster, tape measure, and shop rag. before i knew it, my first days pay was wiped out on this stuff. all of which, i already owned. but the kicker is, i dont even like the box cutter, or the tape measure; and the shop towel is reduculous. sigh.
but. as sarah would remind me. its a job. it might suck. but its a job. so i drive 30 minutes or so to get there. because the one 3 blocks away wouldnt hire me. sigh. its a fantastic place alright. i just hope the "real job" comes along for me sooner than later.
some old farmer comes in. pushing a cart with something black in it. when he walks up to me, i notice two things.... 1) its dripping something funky 2) it smells something awfully funky. turns out it was something out of his septic system. and yes, it was leaking liquid poop. appearantly, i was not only supposed to know what he needed, but i was supposed to take it apart FOR him to do it. yikes. id been there all of 2 hours at that point. what a way to start.
i havent really made up my mind about it all. i will say that i miss staples. all else aside, menards has a terrible sense of stock/supply. staples inventory practices, and stock guarantees--- even if sometimes annoying to deal with as an employee --- were always noticed by customers. this place could have open pegs for months and not know it. they dont do yearly inventory. stuff is randomly shipped in, sometimes correlating to sales of items and orderpoints, but not always. planograms are awful. overstock is chaotic at best. and there just isnt much in the way of fall back options when youre out and people get pissed. staples would eat 20 bucks in shipping costs to get you a 3 dollar widget if you really wanted it. menards couldnt tell you if they had one... ever. but its a hardware store. crap comes in everyday by the truck loads, and my guess is the employees are generally immune to the idea of keeping up on it. it seems like there is always freight laying around. in piles. on pallets. in the aisles. on top of other products. in cases in the wrong places. just made me want to vomit coming from a system like staples. secondly, the cleanliness is a bit off. dust just cakes up in this place. shop-worn [ragged, yellow packaging] product is all over the place. things are dumped on end caps for no reason. products get 43 facings for 8 items; 2 facings for 8594 items. it just feels throw together at times. even during back to school times and christmas; staples .... errr ted... would see to it that the store could do a total tear down and reset before wed open for business the next day. around here, they have stock people working before 5am, and some not leaving till 10pm and it looks like hell. ofcourse, i found out the plumbing department also does more on average, in a day, than my staples store would do in a day. i guess its just a different environment altogether.
its also a place filled with "lifers" as we call it. my department manager, has 13 years in. the two assistant managers have 10 and 14. the full timer has 13. its just amazing. several other things make it amazing. the opening pay rate isnt bad for retail, but raises are pathetic... 10 cents. and to qualify you have to take paper exams. and thats a once a year thing. they do something called instant profit sharing; but require you to work 1,000 hours in a calendar year first. then you can earn 2.5% back of what you already made. in realworld math; it works out to about one extra pay check. before its hit with tax. which... the company considers a gift and hits it a 42%. *shakes head* im not sure how worth it that can be. the other thing which i didnt like... paying for purchases.... to get the 10% discount, you have to pay with your namebadge. the namebadge links to your payroll. post taxes. and you still will pay sales tax on top of that. its also capped at 70% of the previous week's earnings. so. you cant buy a skid of shingles to do your roof. no big purchases get discounts. but it encourages lots of little incidental purchases. soda, candy, small tools... hmm.. just like the ones they made me buy. not only did i have to pay for my gay vest [11 dollars], but i have to pay for any all all shirts id want , as well as "the tools to perform my job"... meaning, the old company store is back in business for the miners! i had to "buy" my box cutter, holster, pliers, holster, tape measure, and shop rag. before i knew it, my first days pay was wiped out on this stuff. all of which, i already owned. but the kicker is, i dont even like the box cutter, or the tape measure; and the shop towel is reduculous. sigh.
but. as sarah would remind me. its a job. it might suck. but its a job. so i drive 30 minutes or so to get there. because the one 3 blocks away wouldnt hire me. sigh. its a fantastic place alright. i just hope the "real job" comes along for me sooner than later.
Monday, March 27, 2006
well as a random note... ive joined myspace as well. should anyone else care to find me on it, ta-da-is-the-link. i did it because no one from davenport is on facebook. its true! ive been a member of myspace for about 20 minutes, and im up to 5 friends-- all of them from home. when i look at my list of friends on facebook, about 99% of them are from school only. its pretty rare that i find any of my friends from home on it. myspace also has a neat feature of bands being on it. bands which place their songs [albeit] in embedded players, so that your friends music can be played on your page. yes, its annoying as all hell to go to someones page and hear their music, but its kind of neat to have some old school black metal playing on mine; legit and free. myspace also lets you do more to the page. facebook really doesnt allow for it. so thats kind of neat. i guess.
so i used it and ive caught up with 2 girls i graduated with, that i litterally havent seen or even heard their names, since then. very neat. one ended up in South Carolina, and the other is in Flordia. maybe im just living vicariously, but i enjoy seeing where people end up that isnt davenport. dont get me wrong. this was a great place to grow up. its a fantastic place to raise children still. but being a 20 something, with no real committments, there is no real life around here. and looking at my friends that have moved off, they tend to have found that life in other [non davenporty] places. i also somewhat struggled with how to approach them. a little bit. i mean how great of a friend am i, if i cant talk to someone once in 7 years... sigh. i get that. i expect ill get more of that. but its hard to come up with what to say. obviously im not any of these people's best friend, but maybe im not the worst enemy either. see on facebook, it seemed to me, that approve and go, with myspace i almost feel compelled to talk to these people. the facebook crew hardly even sends me a poke back anymore. who knows. people are just who they want to be.
being all nostalgic and such the past few hours, i dug around some blogs. eventually i arrived at a blog from someone, who, im surprised didnt erase theirs. but 3 years later, its still sitting there. to me; its tough. this was a person who was a good friend to me. good enough i suppose. who did some really stupid shit, and got called on it. and should have. im not denying that. but reading through the posts, it was somewhat harsh how everyone treated them. all the responses are anonymous, and combative. and, yes, they pulled some stupid shit, they looked like a dumbass doing it, and deserved some crap for what they did. but honestly i dont know if they deserved all of what people were throwing at them. maybe from select people. that much would be understandable. but reading it now, it just looks like they made it open season on them. so i feel a bit guilty. should i? i dunno. i didnt hop on the stone throwing train. honestly, i ended up being the best friend they had at that point. but maybe i wasnt a true friend. maybe im still not. i suppose, a complication like that, makes sense why i struggle with pulling up some of these old names on myspace. maybe on some level, i feel guilty over something i said back then. hell, the problem is i dont even remember what i would have said. so i dunno.
i pulled out a yearbook from junior year tonight. that scared me. i cant believe what a retard i looked like. well. still am. but how hard it is to imagine people i knew then, looking like someone who is the age we are now. i know damn well ive passed people in the mall, or on the street that i graduated with, that i just dont recognize anymore. its sad. its not like the high school was that big. 1300 people isnt huge. hell, several colleges in iowa are that size. but i guess its the idea of people changing and moving on. and i thought about the line from Cool Hand Luke... where Luke goes out to the truck to see Arletta. She says something about how that at some point a bitch wouldnt recognize her own pup anymore, and how it pains her that she still knows Luke to be her son... how much easier on us all if we could be as blind and forgetful as that, to let those people slide off in to true anononymity. i suppose to an extent i experienced that. for better or for worse.
so i used it and ive caught up with 2 girls i graduated with, that i litterally havent seen or even heard their names, since then. very neat. one ended up in South Carolina, and the other is in Flordia. maybe im just living vicariously, but i enjoy seeing where people end up that isnt davenport. dont get me wrong. this was a great place to grow up. its a fantastic place to raise children still. but being a 20 something, with no real committments, there is no real life around here. and looking at my friends that have moved off, they tend to have found that life in other [non davenporty] places. i also somewhat struggled with how to approach them. a little bit. i mean how great of a friend am i, if i cant talk to someone once in 7 years... sigh. i get that. i expect ill get more of that. but its hard to come up with what to say. obviously im not any of these people's best friend, but maybe im not the worst enemy either. see on facebook, it seemed to me, that approve and go, with myspace i almost feel compelled to talk to these people. the facebook crew hardly even sends me a poke back anymore. who knows. people are just who they want to be.
being all nostalgic and such the past few hours, i dug around some blogs. eventually i arrived at a blog from someone, who, im surprised didnt erase theirs. but 3 years later, its still sitting there. to me; its tough. this was a person who was a good friend to me. good enough i suppose. who did some really stupid shit, and got called on it. and should have. im not denying that. but reading through the posts, it was somewhat harsh how everyone treated them. all the responses are anonymous, and combative. and, yes, they pulled some stupid shit, they looked like a dumbass doing it, and deserved some crap for what they did. but honestly i dont know if they deserved all of what people were throwing at them. maybe from select people. that much would be understandable. but reading it now, it just looks like they made it open season on them. so i feel a bit guilty. should i? i dunno. i didnt hop on the stone throwing train. honestly, i ended up being the best friend they had at that point. but maybe i wasnt a true friend. maybe im still not. i suppose, a complication like that, makes sense why i struggle with pulling up some of these old names on myspace. maybe on some level, i feel guilty over something i said back then. hell, the problem is i dont even remember what i would have said. so i dunno.
i pulled out a yearbook from junior year tonight. that scared me. i cant believe what a retard i looked like. well. still am. but how hard it is to imagine people i knew then, looking like someone who is the age we are now. i know damn well ive passed people in the mall, or on the street that i graduated with, that i just dont recognize anymore. its sad. its not like the high school was that big. 1300 people isnt huge. hell, several colleges in iowa are that size. but i guess its the idea of people changing and moving on. and i thought about the line from Cool Hand Luke... where Luke goes out to the truck to see Arletta. She says something about how that at some point a bitch wouldnt recognize her own pup anymore, and how it pains her that she still knows Luke to be her son... how much easier on us all if we could be as blind and forgetful as that, to let those people slide off in to true anononymity. i suppose to an extent i experienced that. for better or for worse.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
you ever hear something on a cd that bugs you so much, that every time you listen to it , it irks you? im not talking like a note out of pitch, or stupid lyrics....
see whats bugging me is the track ordering on some albums. anal? positively. but frustrating? absolutely.
damageplan. the cd is severely weakened by using Wake Up as the first track. New Found Power should be number one.
everytime i listen to it now, it bugs me. i just think NFP sets the tone much better for whats coming... and to think that some studio executive probably said, aww just put them in any order. that bugs me.
see whats bugging me is the track ordering on some albums. anal? positively. but frustrating? absolutely.
damageplan. the cd is severely weakened by using Wake Up as the first track. New Found Power should be number one.
everytime i listen to it now, it bugs me. i just think NFP sets the tone much better for whats coming... and to think that some studio executive probably said, aww just put them in any order. that bugs me.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
so just when i needed a laugh today, this specimen graces my desktop...
the headline you ask?
Report: Cosmetics firm using remains of executed Chinese
yikes. but the only thing with more pull than a headline like that, is the actual quotes given in the article. gems like;
“A lot of the research is still carried out in the traditional manner using skin from the executed prisoners and aborted fetus," the agent was quoted as saying.
proving that not only are the dead not safe, but neither are the unborn unliving either. it just gets me. its morbid. but i laughed for about 10 minutes. its supposed to be the type of article you find on the Onion.com, or something of that ilk. buuuuut it looks somewhat reputable. it just gets me.
i suppose on a somewhat serious note though, its got to be embarrasing for a company in china to get caught doing something like that. here, the largest exporter of cheap shit in the known universe, is seen to be some smiling, curry tainted, tasty food producing place in the middle of nowhere, that really likes american money, and if they werent communists, wed probably like them. then we find out they go picking out corpses to try mascara on. or lipstick. or concealer to cover the bullet holes in the corpse heads. there just isnt any end to it. and you can make some kind of argument that...... errrrr. these are just convicts.... errrrr... they are dead.... errr..... vying market principles sometimes dictate unforseen solutions to evolving business practices... but really it just doesnt make much sense. call me a sterotype-r but, i thougth the asian cultures revered older people... i thought that they worship and made praise to the spirts of their dead relatives. i thought it was a culture that was abit more in tune with the human spirit... with the flow of existence.... hell some of them think reincarnation happens. so then how do we end up with some suit's parading around a mortuary with powderpuff's and lip gloss, in the earnest pursuit of a cheaper earned dollar? i dont get it. i just dont get it.
the headline you ask?
Report: Cosmetics firm using remains of executed Chinese
yikes. but the only thing with more pull than a headline like that, is the actual quotes given in the article. gems like;
“A lot of the research is still carried out in the traditional manner using skin from the executed prisoners and aborted fetus," the agent was quoted as saying.
proving that not only are the dead not safe, but neither are the unborn unliving either. it just gets me. its morbid. but i laughed for about 10 minutes. its supposed to be the type of article you find on the Onion.com, or something of that ilk. buuuuut it looks somewhat reputable. it just gets me.
i suppose on a somewhat serious note though, its got to be embarrasing for a company in china to get caught doing something like that. here, the largest exporter of cheap shit in the known universe, is seen to be some smiling, curry tainted, tasty food producing place in the middle of nowhere, that really likes american money, and if they werent communists, wed probably like them. then we find out they go picking out corpses to try mascara on. or lipstick. or concealer to cover the bullet holes in the corpse heads. there just isnt any end to it. and you can make some kind of argument that...... errrrr. these are just convicts.... errrrr... they are dead.... errr..... vying market principles sometimes dictate unforseen solutions to evolving business practices... but really it just doesnt make much sense. call me a sterotype-r but, i thougth the asian cultures revered older people... i thought that they worship and made praise to the spirts of their dead relatives. i thought it was a culture that was abit more in tune with the human spirit... with the flow of existence.... hell some of them think reincarnation happens. so then how do we end up with some suit's parading around a mortuary with powderpuff's and lip gloss, in the earnest pursuit of a cheaper earned dollar? i dont get it. i just dont get it.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
so. with this touted child porn ring busted today i kind of wonder why every is so ashamed to talk about it. hell. what we had here was a real american dream. a slice of america as straight as apple pie, and twice as addictive... it was about money. in a culture thats now grown so bloated in its search of on demand, my way, lifestyles; is it really that alarming that porn follows us? my point is some one out there came up with the great idea of selling on demand porn via web cams with kids, and were out raged. i think what we have here is a giant step forward in our evolution. see in the days of early man, [circa 1991], porn with kids could only get found one of two ways... either you go out kick over some lunch boxes and raid a sand box, or you let someone else do it and hope they send pictures. for now, unknown users, struggling with their affliction of needing to see children being raped on camera, have found a way to stroke that relaxing rush of endorphins with delight, any time, anywhere, by credit card. why not? people do banking, order pizzas, clothes, print insurance quotes; why not get your fix of exploring your own Dora when you want it via the world wide web. i bet this flexes the american money muscle more than anything else to the rest of the world. using our ingenuity and know-how to solve problems.
but who came up with this? really. who was the guy that said... "hey. i bet i know how to make money! screw work, screw inheritence, im going to go out and make my fat millions the right way, im going to shill porno... but ive got a way around that pesky problem of picking up 8 year olds to pound... ill keep a stock on hand, then let people pay me to watch me go at it. yeah. here comes my millions, just rollin in. ill get that place up in the hamptons ive always dreamed about, ill have that mercedes ive wanted.. hell maybe the hot girl in accounting will go out with me when im totally loaded, and a mega porn millionare." the funny bone tickler here for me, is the decision to take credit cards. according to the story aired on ABC Nightly News, people assaulted kids on demand, via web cams, then charged views by credit cards. thats the way in which people were caught. Adam Smith, and his wealth of nations is hard at work pounding little Barny-ites, but forgot all about the trail of shit leading right back to him. call it the evolution of the economy. call it a short sell. but this time, its leaving a mess bigger than what fits in the diapers of the kids they are after.
im glib about it. im not denying that. but porn is what it is. is it wrong, is it sad, is it fucked up that they pull little kids in? absolutely. but porn is big business. porno is more money than you and i will ever know, and its inevitable that something like this comes along. porn is a multi billion dollar industry. ofcourse someone is out there, looking for a way to get theirs; and im not surprised someone is finding a way to sell it. this is the age of every device having a remote control. this is the age where you have to do everything on the internet. this is the age where if cant be cooked in oil, you cant sell it in a drive through window, and that aint going to work. so, im not surprised that this has passed on. but porn reflects life more truely that any of us really want to admit i think. maybe thats the problem we have with it.
i was thinking about this an awful lot this afternoon; just the idea of fetishism. how do we connect a fetish with actual instances of eroticism. as bad as it sounds; i guess kids are easy to figure out... its either a sense of controlling them, or its a return trip to innocence or child like states. i get that. but what about scat porn? how in the world does someone come around with the idea of enjoying a fresh dump in their mouth? i dont get that. plushies. people that dress up in full plush animal costumes to have sex. like a bad disney film on the Spice channel. i dont get that either. latex nuns. it makes no sense to me. but fundamentally its the same. a fetish needs some sort of desired object to propegate sexual fullfillment. and alarming number of people dig feet. some litterally dig coprses. but i just dont get it. after throwing some fetish terms around in google; i was coming up with more fetishes than ways that i knew to describe my distaste for google to find them. people seem to have all sorts of odd quirks that make them tick. i dont claim to understand any of it. and i dont claim to want to experience any of it. but the fact of the matter is porn is legit. porn pushes billions of dollars in the economy. porn is the past time of millions of people on the internet. porn detaches us from the world and sex that we have, to the world and sex that we seem to enjoy. the day we started churning out copies of Deep Throat, was the day porn made it. all of the sudden its a commodity like apples or Pampers or motor oil. we can apply market forces and watch it be manipulated in the proper market channels. that wall came tumbling down long ago. the day we harvested the power of the internet for porn, we knew it was going to explode. when pornography became free, open, and lacking an ID like a strip club; all bets were off. like it or not, kiddie porn sales are legit. its happening. just like crack, its illegal. but its being exchanged. and just like crackdealers are the bouncing baby of success for impreshionable youths in inner cities, child porn purveyors are too the epitomy of success.
how willing are we as a culture to let more fetish elements become truely legit? free will and all that aside, thats not healthy. trust me, i get that. im all for less censorship, fewer goverment intrusions. but the anything goes approach is much different than the every thing goes approach; even if it is a subtle difference. the idea that isolated things can make it as one-offs; vs. a rule of one-off's as the norm. but somewhere before we arrive to that point, we have to make this determination about whats ok. whats taboo that stays taboo. what has been wrong, and what is always going to be wrong. why is the fucking line drawn about having sex with someone at 18 years old, when biologically there isnt always a difference between them and a 17 year old? has it always been medically unsafe to rape a child- absolutely. hasnt it always been emotionally damaging- positively. but its not been eliminated. why does it become filthy and wrong to do the things to a child that adults pray that people would do to them? how come the world anal sex, seems to have lost all sense of shame, and oral isnt even considered sex anymore [thank you bill clinton]? the lines this culture draws are at best a zig zag. again, the message is "i need total control over my phone bill, roll over minutes, online billing, call blocking" but that attitude seems to have cost 26 people their freedom today. and we loathe them for it. im not sad. dont get my take wrong. im not holding up a sign asking for their release. im not saying kiddie porn should be available. im saying, the line isnt straight anymore. the man that invented flash-fry hamburgers in red wax paper is the same model that someone watched to develop a way for people to view sick obsessive taboos. why not. i dont think these concepts have changed a hell of a lot. sex sells, and people are catering to that sale. thats why there are burger joints, taco huts, and fried chicken spots. before you know it, people will be taking credit cards for dolphin sex films, and Hamburger Helper Fetish newsletters, or Gull Bladder penetration movies for sale. porn evolves as fast as the human affinity for a new attachment evolves. our culture does the same thing. this is the kind of thing that happens when that intersects. maybe even inter-sex.
but who came up with this? really. who was the guy that said... "hey. i bet i know how to make money! screw work, screw inheritence, im going to go out and make my fat millions the right way, im going to shill porno... but ive got a way around that pesky problem of picking up 8 year olds to pound... ill keep a stock on hand, then let people pay me to watch me go at it. yeah. here comes my millions, just rollin in. ill get that place up in the hamptons ive always dreamed about, ill have that mercedes ive wanted.. hell maybe the hot girl in accounting will go out with me when im totally loaded, and a mega porn millionare." the funny bone tickler here for me, is the decision to take credit cards. according to the story aired on ABC Nightly News, people assaulted kids on demand, via web cams, then charged views by credit cards. thats the way in which people were caught. Adam Smith, and his wealth of nations is hard at work pounding little Barny-ites, but forgot all about the trail of shit leading right back to him. call it the evolution of the economy. call it a short sell. but this time, its leaving a mess bigger than what fits in the diapers of the kids they are after.
im glib about it. im not denying that. but porn is what it is. is it wrong, is it sad, is it fucked up that they pull little kids in? absolutely. but porn is big business. porno is more money than you and i will ever know, and its inevitable that something like this comes along. porn is a multi billion dollar industry. ofcourse someone is out there, looking for a way to get theirs; and im not surprised someone is finding a way to sell it. this is the age of every device having a remote control. this is the age where you have to do everything on the internet. this is the age where if cant be cooked in oil, you cant sell it in a drive through window, and that aint going to work. so, im not surprised that this has passed on. but porn reflects life more truely that any of us really want to admit i think. maybe thats the problem we have with it.
i was thinking about this an awful lot this afternoon; just the idea of fetishism. how do we connect a fetish with actual instances of eroticism. as bad as it sounds; i guess kids are easy to figure out... its either a sense of controlling them, or its a return trip to innocence or child like states. i get that. but what about scat porn? how in the world does someone come around with the idea of enjoying a fresh dump in their mouth? i dont get that. plushies. people that dress up in full plush animal costumes to have sex. like a bad disney film on the Spice channel. i dont get that either. latex nuns. it makes no sense to me. but fundamentally its the same. a fetish needs some sort of desired object to propegate sexual fullfillment. and alarming number of people dig feet. some litterally dig coprses. but i just dont get it. after throwing some fetish terms around in google; i was coming up with more fetishes than ways that i knew to describe my distaste for google to find them. people seem to have all sorts of odd quirks that make them tick. i dont claim to understand any of it. and i dont claim to want to experience any of it. but the fact of the matter is porn is legit. porn pushes billions of dollars in the economy. porn is the past time of millions of people on the internet. porn detaches us from the world and sex that we have, to the world and sex that we seem to enjoy. the day we started churning out copies of Deep Throat, was the day porn made it. all of the sudden its a commodity like apples or Pampers or motor oil. we can apply market forces and watch it be manipulated in the proper market channels. that wall came tumbling down long ago. the day we harvested the power of the internet for porn, we knew it was going to explode. when pornography became free, open, and lacking an ID like a strip club; all bets were off. like it or not, kiddie porn sales are legit. its happening. just like crack, its illegal. but its being exchanged. and just like crackdealers are the bouncing baby of success for impreshionable youths in inner cities, child porn purveyors are too the epitomy of success.
how willing are we as a culture to let more fetish elements become truely legit? free will and all that aside, thats not healthy. trust me, i get that. im all for less censorship, fewer goverment intrusions. but the anything goes approach is much different than the every thing goes approach; even if it is a subtle difference. the idea that isolated things can make it as one-offs; vs. a rule of one-off's as the norm. but somewhere before we arrive to that point, we have to make this determination about whats ok. whats taboo that stays taboo. what has been wrong, and what is always going to be wrong. why is the fucking line drawn about having sex with someone at 18 years old, when biologically there isnt always a difference between them and a 17 year old? has it always been medically unsafe to rape a child- absolutely. hasnt it always been emotionally damaging- positively. but its not been eliminated. why does it become filthy and wrong to do the things to a child that adults pray that people would do to them? how come the world anal sex, seems to have lost all sense of shame, and oral isnt even considered sex anymore [thank you bill clinton]? the lines this culture draws are at best a zig zag. again, the message is "i need total control over my phone bill, roll over minutes, online billing, call blocking" but that attitude seems to have cost 26 people their freedom today. and we loathe them for it. im not sad. dont get my take wrong. im not holding up a sign asking for their release. im not saying kiddie porn should be available. im saying, the line isnt straight anymore. the man that invented flash-fry hamburgers in red wax paper is the same model that someone watched to develop a way for people to view sick obsessive taboos. why not. i dont think these concepts have changed a hell of a lot. sex sells, and people are catering to that sale. thats why there are burger joints, taco huts, and fried chicken spots. before you know it, people will be taking credit cards for dolphin sex films, and Hamburger Helper Fetish newsletters, or Gull Bladder penetration movies for sale. porn evolves as fast as the human affinity for a new attachment evolves. our culture does the same thing. this is the kind of thing that happens when that intersects. maybe even inter-sex.
Monday, March 13, 2006
so. i remember, like i could ever hope to forget, my experiences of being thrown out, cursed at, and backhanded by every business in a 3 county area, trying to sell copiers door to door. and what was the 3 things i took away to get some success with it? never bring samples, if you take more than 3 minutes its youre third strike, and ALWAYS be a master at what youre doing. today, people rang our door bell. so our story begins.
a man, in a nice jacket asks me if i could give an honest opinion on an item. hes holding a bottle of windex. i say sure. before i could look up, hes on the porch with a vacuum cleaner box, and two idiots in tow. he opens the door starts talking and walks up the stairs, and says "I want a real honest opinion from you about the Kirby Cleaning system, Jesse and Karen will give you some quick information here for me, the bottle of windex is a free gift for your opnions." and like that he was gone. left me holding the bottle of windex. which wasnt so bad. it was name brand windex. but then i realized the vacuum in the living room. and the two idiots shredding the box apart like 3 years olds on christmas day. i had bigger problems than that coming.
i forgot that my father was home. sitting in the chair, staring at a cross word puzzle. it snapped shut and i got a glare. so i sat on the couch while jesse and karen went to work. ill have to admit, they didnt know assholes from doorknobs on this thing. that much was clear instantly.
hoses, and brushes and attachments were flying around. i was getting motion sick. but that didnt stop some angry glares and stupid comments from my father. you see, as i sat down, this could be fun. obviously, these people are trying real hard to make this work. ive been there. when someone says "hey sure, what can you tell me?", it was probably the best news of the day for me. at that point, it would make the previous 30 doors that got slammed, seem like nothing, because now i had a chance. so i gave them a chance. big deal. they were going to clean the house for me for nothing... more than nothing. they GAVE me the bottle of windex after all. suckers.
immediately karen has problems. i pay attention to see that shes putting the wrong end of the hose into the machine. turns it on, without introducing herself or the product, and finds the hose wont stay on. the machine has exhaust and intake that use the same hose. shes flustered. and a side note. shes fat. and shes wearing black spandex pants. its important later. i digress. shes flustered. she figures out the wrong hose is in place, then mumbles about machines not working. then she talks to us for the first time.
"so this is... the kirby cleaner. its a vacuum.--- but it does more than vacuum" FUCKING GASP!!!! DOES IT???? sorry.
she then takes her time picking out an attachment to talk about.... the pet groomer, the plumbers best friend, the power jet, the horsehair brush, the crevice tool, the tile scrubber... then she has jesse plug it in, as she forgot to, to start showing them all off. so they take a piece of white coffee filter, slap it in the machine and vacuum a small spot, and show us all the dust and dirt from every place they take it from. 14 samples later, they decide they want to move on to the kitchen. my father speaks up and tells them, No. i said, go for it. he says NO again. so she tries to sit and make small talk. she asks where were from. {FUCKING DERRRR HOWABOUT DAVENPORT}, asked me where i went to school, i said Idaho. she magically says "i have friends from there". then she sits on the floor. a crucial down fall. shes talking intermittently while reading from the product binder, assumedly verbatim from whats printed. all the while playing with parts, telling us what does what. or so she thinks. jesse decides hes done, and he wants to start the "baking soda test." you can figure this one out, ass hat threw a box of the crap all over the carpet, and she starts stomping and grinding it in.
she gets up, puts on some floor attachment, and decides to suck it up. but shes forgotten which connection pushes it into the catch trap to show us the dirt. woooooosh. there goes powdered baking soda in a cloud on to my parents royal blue couch. dad is not happy. im trying not to laugh. but it gets harder. she appologizes. jesse looks confused. so she sits down. on the couch. wide rear end over powdery white substance. i get up to get something to drink and start laughing. my dad seem to be more pissed off now than amused. when i come back i see jesse, whom by the way has a tub of skoal hanging out of his back pocket, stand up with the fixed vacuum and start to clean the mess. i sit down, and so stands up karen. with a nice big white powdered ass. but oh. wait. theres more! when she moves i notice a problem. there are two nice stripes down her but... sigh. panty lines. like chalked body outlines. and even i cant find this remotely sexual. but i find it unabashedly hillarious. two wide black stripes in the midst of a square acre of white. kind of like the opposite of a hostes cupcake.
im dying laughing. but i cant say anything, except i want to see the next attachment. she says they need mattress samples. my dad gets very irate and says, "youre a guest in my house, but i will not let you into my bedroom to test it, you can go to the next step in youre little demo." she says its important so that they can qualify it as a demo. he goes on with some i thought was a tad more profane than should be said. and like they they are on the phone calling for a pickup. feverishly they are trying to repack the box of 4004 attachments, all while she bends over and puts that 8 miles of powdered white ass in my face. absolutely priceless. obviously theyve been tossed out before, and take it well. but i was pretty mad about it.
first of all it was entertaining as all hell. second, im about as insulated from buying the thing as anyone could be [the price was 1100 dollars, i have about zero to my name], and third i felt bad in a way. i remember getting cussed at, thrown out and jacked around. obviously they hadnt gotten many opportunities to practice the sale or theyd be better, and i was all for letting them practice. so before we knew it, with a cloud of dust they were outside, waiting on the curb for a guy in a red childmolester van with florida plates, to pick them up. and so ended my tale of hillarity for the day. so funny. yet so pathetic.
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