Friend codes are a pain in the ass.

Okay, I fucked up. Must've been smoking crack when I posted my code last time `cause it was way off. 0604-2510-4363-9243 is the actual code. Leave me a comment with your code once you've registered me, then go out and buy mario cart and/or smash bros.

βeta, out.

Have a nice day.

That's all. I just wanted to let everyone know they should have a nice day.

βeta, out.

Wheeeee!

Wait, no. It's Wii. I was gonna do a whole we, oui, wee-wee thing here, but I'm far too tired and full of caffeine to pull it off. Besides, as messed up as I am right now, I'd probably end up posting a picture of my dick to go along with it. While many of you would enjoy that(trust me, you would), it would likely get my blogger account suspended. And we can't have that, what would you do without my words of wisdom/insanity?

So, instead, I shall bypass the penis and get straight to the point(there may be a pun in there, but I'm not sure). Or, as straight to the point as someone with enough caffeine in their system to kill an elephant can get.

Now, where was I? Just kidding. This being the gift giving season, it is my sincere hope that many of you will be aquiring your very own, phallicly named Nintendo Entertainment System. I have had one since shortly after their release. That makes them sound like some sort of criminals. They probably should be, if only for the ammount of penis puns they've unleashed on an unwitting society.

Unfortunately, no one else I know has one. This is changing though(Santa let me know who's getting one)and now I feel I must pimp out my friend code, and ask everyone to get a copy of mario-cart. So, that I might kick their butts in online play.

6042-5104-3639 Add me, now. Please, I'm so lonely:(

βeta, out.

Sell your Soul.

Sorry for the extended absence, I've been busy. Busy trapping souls. (Insert evil laughter) No, seriously, I've been trapping souls, or trying to. I hadn't had any success until just tonight, but I've finally got it worked out.

(Big things come in small packages)

Yes, there is one entire soul trapped in that tiny glass vial. They're really quite compressible, the big problem was finding a medium that would hold the little buggers. Sure, a contract signed in blood works. But, where's the art in that? Not to mention that they tend to degrade a bit over time on paper.

(Image taken in the volatile moment right before the soul had fully settled in)

Acquiring the souls was actually the easiest part of this whole ordeal; people are just giving them away. Now, finding a good way to keep hold of them, that was tough. Eventually, I had to ask for help from a certain individual who wishes to remain unnamed. Unfortunately, contract obligations prevent me from sharing the exact procedures I used. This is likely a good thing, as some of the steps involved can be quite dangerous.

For those brave souls(pun intended)who still wish to learn how it's done; I may be willing to work out a trade. (Insert more evil laughter)

βeta, out.

Mangoes Rock.

(Forget God, Jesus, & the Holy Ghost. Here we got Mango, Mango, & Mango. The real Holy Triune.)

(Just look at that. Man, makes me want to take a bite out of the screen.)

It's midnight, do you know where your mangoes are? βeta, out.

Asthma Sucks! Cars suck worse. Stupid bureaucrats suck worst of all.

I'll get to why in a minute.

I wasn't at work today because I didn't want to deal with my boss. So, I decided to enjoy my day off, slept in until Dad woke me up by stealing my dirt. I'm very attuned to my dirt and can sense when anyone else is messing with it. That and he shouted out "I'm stealing your dirt."

I didn't mind too much, it was about 11 am by then, and he gave me the dirt in the first place. He's repairing a fence and had to remove a bunch that had piled up at it's base. He was just going to throw it away until I told him I'd take it. I want to build some raised beds to start a garden in the spring. This is good soil too, maybe a bit sandy, but that's the norm for around here.

(Damned, dirty, dirt thieves. Though it kinda reminds me of Mount St. Helens now)

I'm starting a compost pile to help amend the soil too; I've been taking home all the shredded paper from the office. We're cleaning out the files (When I say we, I mean Tammy) and I've gotten two large trash bags full and there's still 2/3rds of the files left to go through. (Poor Tammy) I should have started on that today. But, by the time I had showered, eaten, and dressed myself, it was already one o'clock. I'm very slow in the mornings, especially when that morning runs into the afternoon.

I decided to go for a bike ride today, I've been riding a lot at work but, those are mainly short hops. I do a pretty decent ride on Mondays though, where I go down every street on the property and all around the outside. It's only about three miles, but the whole place is on a slant with a couple hundred feet of grade over just a quarter mile. I love nothing more than to tear up those inclines and fly back down. Even so, this only takes me about half an hour, and that's with stopping to check out the empty homes.

I've done two hour rides on my stationary with no problem, but since I started riding at work I've been neglecting it. Lack of stamina wasn't my problem today though. My problem was all the fucking cars spewing toxic gas straight into my lungs. I haven't had an asthma attack in years, but all it took to set one off today was five miles in light traffic.

(Why do you neglect me so?)

There should be a law banning any vehicle made more than ten years ago from the road. I kept getting stuck behind these behemoths from the sixties, but the worst offender was this big white truck that could not have been street legal. Damned smoke coming off that thing sent me into a coughing fit. I was about half way out at that point and tried to keep going, but only made it a couple blocks before turning for home. Thankfully I had decided to go uphill and was able to coast most of the way back.

(Is this how I have to dress just to go riding? Isn't the Helmet bad enough? I look like a freaking mushroom with glasses.)

I was dead when I got back, all my muscles were leaden. My chest took the better part of an hour to loosen up completely. You know what really sucks? This was what I would consider a mild attack. If you've never had asthma, you just cant know how bad it can be. I've heard it likened to trying to breathe through a straw, but it's always felt more like drowning in fresh air to me. No matter how hard or fast you try to breathe, it doesn't work; that oxygen just will not get into your blood stream.

Now imagine being a little kid and trying to deal with that. Children like that, they don't need to be taught about death. Death is in the very air around them. Death is that band that tightens around their chest until they want to scream, but don't have the air to do so. There's help though, a little inhaler filled with albuterol.

Those inhalers are the difference between life and death for millions of children. But, they also contain a small amount of CFC propellant, and as we all know CFC's damage the ozone layer. So, some well intentioned idiot, who's clearly never had trouble breathing, decided to ban all CFC based inhalers. Never mind the fact that there is no other product on the market that's even half as effective.

The next best one has actually proven to be deadly to people with certain allergies. A slight problem, since asthma and allergies often come in a package deal.

So, imagine again that you're a kid with asthma, but you've got your trust inhaler, you never leave home without it. Now imagine that it just stops working, that it actually makes your asthma attacks worse. What do you do? You try to tell your parents, but don't have enough breath. They try to help by giving you your inhaler, it's always worked before. Why won't it work now?

They rush you to the hospital, but it's too late. You've slipped into a coma because there wasn't enough oxygen getting to your brain. Your last words “Mommy, Mommy, help me, do something, I'm dying.”

Please sign the petition to save CFC asthma inhalers. βeta, out.

Boss Lady Responds.

You remember how I got into a shouting match with bitch lady last week? Well, she finally responded.

Here's the letter she sent.

" Written Disciplinary Action

I am drafting this letter in an attempt to memorialize the altercation which transpired yesterday. First and foremost, your behavior was insubordinate, abusive and completely unprofessional. You left me no way to have any kind of rational discussion or conversation with you. This is not the first time that you have been insubordinate, unprofessional and disrespectful to me. Residents, fellow employees and even previous supervisors have found your behavior difficult to deal with in the past. This does not create an amenable or successful business relationship

I have always treated you with respect, professionalism and courtesy. I have always been amenable to any reasonable requests you have had when it comes to your duties, equipment purchases or anything else you deemed a necessity of your position including, but not limited to; an ergonomic keyboard and mouse.

I have asked you and all employees of ************************ on more that one occasion not to perform work outside of your job description, make any changes, alterations without my prior authorization. Yet, you have done so on more than one occasion. This is why I felt it necessary to discuss the matter of you moving your office from the maintenance office to the conference room without authorization. If you had given me the opportunity to speak, you may have found out that I may have been willing to make the allowance for you temporarily even though you did not have authorization to do so. I have made many allowances for you in the past with regard to company policies, behavior issues, etc. Your attitude and demeanor leads one to believe that you are only willing to do what you want to and feel that you alone have the right to decide what you are willing to do and how you are willing to do it in the workplace.

Your behavior yesterday could be interpreted as though you do not wish to continue your employment with *********************. I do believe that you may need some time to reflect on your actions. If you wish to discuss returning to work, you will need to set up an appointment to discuss the matter with me rationally, courteously and professionally.

You may feel free to contact me at any time.

Sincerely, **** ****** "

-
I like how talks about me returning to work when she never actually dismissed me. She told me to take one day off, which I did. I'm at work right now, I spent the morning drafting my reply. And, Since I love all of you so very much, I will share it here.
-

" Response to Written Disciplinary Action

You have no right to speak to me in the tone of voice you used in the office Tuesday. You most especially, have no right to chew me out for finding a workaround to a problem caused by your own inaction. I see you made no mention of that in your letter. You find fault with me for not treating you like a boss when, you don't act like one. You brought human poison into this office, and did nothing about it despite numerous complaints. Do not call me unprofessional when you have done nothing but ignore the serious personnel issues in this office.

You claim that people find me difficult to deal with. If that is so, then why did you name me employee of the month not to long ago? And tell me that everyone thought I was "perfect; just great to work with". You placed me in an untenable situation and provided no alternative, even after I, and my co-workers, expressed our concerns to you. And, now you're upset that I found my own way out of it? You have not shown any of us respect, professionalism, or even common courtesy in this matter. I told you that the stress of working with him was killing me, I was not exaggerating. The situation was so bad that I became physically ill on more than one occasion. I was not the first, nor even the second person to be threatened or harassed by **** *****. Did you do anything about the matter? Did you censor him in anyway? How exactly have you acted professionally in this matter?

You hired me to do this job my way, because you couldn't find anyone else that could. Not surprising, when you consider that this job is tantamount to herding cats. A job made all the more difficult by the fact that I have little support and no actual authority.

Speaking of authority; you say I've been insubordinate, but how can I be insubordinate to someone who has provided me with no leadership? You are my employer, not my commander and chief. You pay me a pittance of a wage in return for my services. Yet, have never once explicitly defined what those services are. You give conflicting and, oft times, illegal orders, then complain when I don’t follow them to the letter.

You said that I've been disrespectful in the past, and yes, I'll admit that I did once before raise my voice to you. Do you happen to recall what that conversation was about? Do you remember that you were trying to bully me into signing away my constitutionally granted right to privacy? How were you offering me any respect in that matter?

You say that you've done many things for me in the past couple of years that I've been working for you, but you can only cite one thing. Buying me a keyboard and mouse weeks after I told you that my wrists hurt. That’s all I can think of that you’ve ever done for me, too.

I can think of several situations where you could have, should have, intervened in my favor.
Did you give me time off after I nearly shattered my knee cap in your poorly lit workshop? An injury which still pains me to this day. No, you chewed me out for not serving enough notices. Was that professional or respectful of you?

What about when Mr. ****** libeled, and tried to blackmail me, in clear violation of Rule #20 of ***************'s Rules & Regulations? The paragraph regarding interfering with or hindering Management. The paragraph which ends "any violation of this paragraph shall be considered a material and irredeemable breach of the lease agreement." Did you give me any courtesy in that matter? No, you fobbed it off on an ineffectual attorney who takes six months to do what a paralegal could do in a day, when he does anything at all. Did you seek a second opinion when he refused to do anything? Or did you act completely unprofessionally by ignoring the threat against your employee, hoping it would go away?

Speaking of threats; do you remember the time a security guard in your employ threatened to kill me? But, I wasn't supposed to worry about that, was I? Because, I'm bigger than him, and could take him in a fight. Those were your words. Why should I worry that he carried a loaded revolver on his hip? I'm bigger than him. I will give you credit though, you actually told him to stay off the property. He didn't though, and you didn't actually do anything to enforce your edict. And, if you recall, that company eventually dropped us as a client, saying something about a hostile work environment. I never knew my desire not to be murdered was so hostile. Perhaps, I should have been more professional, and just let him kill me?

Oh, and since I touched on the matter, I'm getting very tired of your digs about my weight. If you look back to last Tuesday, you'll notice I didn't actually start shouting until after you stated your incredulity about my being able to walk 2 miles in less than five hours. You can not expect me to remain calm while being insulted by my boss. Do the math; the lots in here aren't that large, and walking all the way around 45 of them does not take an entire day. So, I'll thank you kindly to act the professional you claim to be, and never mention my weight or level of physical fitness, ever again.

While we're on the subject of harassment; I'd like to let you know that, just because I am male does not mean that you can distract me with your cleavage. We’ve all noticed how you lean forward whenever speaking to a man. That is sexual harassment, and beyond unprofessional on your part.

If you have any other matters you would like to discuss; I would be happy to hear them.

Sincerely, Pentathalos "

-
So, what do you think?
-

βeta, out.

Nerf!

Yes, Nerf. And yes, I have been drinking but, I only had two beers in me when I decided to turn my innocent little Nerf gun into a deadly weapon. Okay, maybe not deadly but, I have more than doubled the range, and made the darts fast enough to leave a nice red mark if you get hit by one.

(this is my gun. there are many like it but this one is mine)
(actually this one belongs to amazon, I was too lazy to take a picture of mine)

I picked up a Nerf Switch Shot EX-3 (also known as the Nerf Wii gun) at wallyworld a few days ago. This is probably the best gun controller for the wii and the ability to shoot Nerf darts makes it just plain awesome. So, for only fifteen bucks I couldn't pass it up.

First off, this is a kickass little toy. Even without modifications the darts can fly over 30 feet, and the Wii mode is fantastic. You're probably asking yourself "if it's so great why did I have to mess with it?" Don't you know me at all?

Just because it ain't broken is no reason not to fix it, or something like that. Actually I was over at my brother's for thanksgiving earlier, and being the dutiful uncle that I am, I took it upon myself to entertain my nephew while everyone else was fawning over his baby sister. He's got a Star Wars themed foam dart gun which frankly sucks. Sure it looks great, but it's only got a fifteen foot range, twenty with a good tailwind. Not that that kept him from getting his only dart stuck up on the roof.

So, after an excellent meal, I come home and get to thinking about this poor deprived child with his lame-ass blaster and decide that he needs something better. Something like my Nerf gun but then I think, if this is good enough for a four year old(yes, I'm the bad uncle, not to be mistaken for the creepy uncle) then I need something much better for myself. The only solution; break out the powertools. Proper application of powertools is actually the solution to most of the worlds problems.

Again, no photos cause I'm lazy, but I popped open the firing mechanism. It's a simple, spring loaded, air chamber about 3/4 of an inch wide, but it only has an opening of 1/8 of an inch for the air to flow through to the dart. This is far from big enough, so I drilled it out to 1/4 inch, with some good results, but not good enough for me. I look at the barrel side and, after removing the guide post for the dart, I see that there's another 1/8th inch hole on this side and some sort of valve in between. I drill this side out to 7/32nds of an inch and tape up a couple of holes in the barrel. And, bam, I've got a weapon of Nerf destruction.

This thing actually scares me a little bit now, and I know I can make it even more powerful with a few more modifications. Those would require exterior changes though, and I quite like the stock design. The only things I would change are the grip, which is usable, but too short for my ham hands, and the front ammo/accessory holder, which, IMO, is just useless weight.

Now I couldn't go through all this trouble and not test it out by shooting a few cans, could I? And, I can't shoot cans without making a video, can I. So, as a little present to you for reading this whole article about a toy gun. I give you video. Sorry about the stupid accent; something about drinking and playing with guns (even Nerf guns) brings out my inner redneck.

βeta, out.

Yelling at your boss for fun and profit.

Well, I don't know about the profit, but it sure as hell was fun. Maybe if I yell at her some more she'll give me a raise. I was sick yesterday(between my darling Jessica, and Tammy's little plague monkeys, it was inevitable.), but I stayed at work because we needed to get the newsletter done on time(it won't be BTW). So, there I was, five minutes til closing time and all I can think about is home and a bottle of Nyquil. When big boss lady decides to come and chew me out for moving my desk without permission. I wasn't having any of that shit so I ask her straight out if she's gonna fire me for it.

For those who haven't been paying attention, about four months ago(technically it was like ten months ago, they just took their sweet ass time starting), she hired a couple of idiots to help out. Well, they didn't. They only made things worse for the rest of us because we had to pick up their slack on top of doing our regular duties. One was so incompetent that she took months to learn how to fill out a simple notice, and she still fucks them up half the time. I only had to deal with her when she needed tech support(about 20 times a day) so she wasn't so bad. But, her husband, he's another story entirely.

This guy's a real asshole, hasn't done a damned thing since he started, he's threatened or harassed practically everyone on staff(especially his wife). I tried to get along with him, and basically just put up with him for three months until his probationary period ended and he should have been fired. Three long months stuck in that cave of an office with a bastard who couldn't do anything but piss people off, before I finally had enough. I went in 90 minutes early one day, and moved all my stuff out. So, by the time he showed up I was all settled in with Tammy.

Jump forward a couple weeks and boss lady is getting all pissy cause I'm not treating her like she thinks a boss lady needs to be treated. She wants me to treat her like a boss, then she needs to start acting like one. So, I tell her that this isn't about me moving my desk, this is about her ignoring the real problem (like she always does) and hoping it goes away. She wants to create a happy workplace, she needs to fire them, or she needs to fire me.

Then she gives me some B.S. about how she tried to solve the problem with a stupid schedule. I was told it was for golfcart sharing(which he didn't follow, forcing me to use my bike every day(I should thank him for that)), now she's trying to say it was for office sharing. Apparently I'm supposed to spend every other day out doing inspections, yes, the entire day. How the hell am I supposed to get any real work done if I'm not even allowed in my own office?

And if that wasn't bad enough, she asks me how many lots I normally inspect in a day(45), then she has the gall to insult me by claiming that there's no way I can do that in just a morning. It takes me like no time at all, if I don't fuck around:) The paperwork is what really takes up most of my time. This isn't the first time she's given me shit about my weight either, it's been mostly subtle before but, now it's starting to piss me off.

I was furious at this point, I really wanted to slap her. I try not to be a violent man, I really do, but some people just deserve a good smack upside the head from time to time. I don't remember much after this, just me standing there shouting at her while Tammy and our manager stare on with that dear in the headlights look on their faces. I basically dared her to fire me, and all she did was give me the next day off, the day before a four-day weekend.

So, yeah. Go yell at your boss, maybe you'll get a vacation out of it.

βeta, out.

A brief Greek lesson for Tammy

You asked what βeta meant, but work intruded before I could answer. Basically, it's the second letter of the Greek alphabet, which has been in use around three millenia now. Hell, it's where we get the word "alphabet" from; Alpha & Beta are the first two of 24 letters.

The letters have many uses, such as describing different brain states, to indicate parameters in math, or just as an alternate way to count. If you want to know more, read the Wikipedia article.

My personal use of βeta references the nickname(Pentathalos being another)given to Eratosthenes by his contemporaries. The man seemed to excel at whatever he tried but, would rarely take the gold.

Coming in second all the time in a wide number of disciplines is no mean feat, and an example I wish to emulate(winning is over rated). So, that's it. Hope I solved the mystery for you.

βeta, out.

You're like my own personal brand of heroin.

That's it, that's all I've got to say, except what the fuck is wrong with that guy's face? Why pick the ugliest man ever to play the prettiest man ever? Fuck, I'm tired.

Deja Vu

No, I didn't pickup another thumb tack. This time I tore the side wall and had to replace my back tire. As annoying as that was, it's not why I'm here now. I talking about the real thing, that feeling of having lived the exact same moment before. I really hate that feeling, and I got it not once, but twice today.

First when I was buying the replacement tire for my bike(17 bucks I could have put to better use), it's weird because I know I've never bought this type of tire before. Slick in the center with treads on the side for traction in turns. Not my first choice, but it's all they had, and it's not that bad considering I do most of my riding on the street.

Deja Vu hit me as soon as I saw the tire and again when I was putting it on. I count this as one experience since it was about one item. The second time was much more intense, and involved bungee cords. I picked up a twelve pack at wallgreens cause it had two of the smaller ones I needed. A bit wasteful but, you never know when you're going to need some bungee cords, and it's not like they go bad. Though, now that I think about it. I suppose the elastic will eventually dry out, but I've got cords that are years old with no sign of weakening. I doubt these wally-world rejects are going to hold up as well as those, but who gives a shit? Why am I even talking about this, they're just fucking bungee cords. I think I'm starting to take this frugality kick a little too seriously. That, or I'm just really freaking tired, and freakin' love the word bungee. Bungee bungee bungee.

So, I'm just pulling these cords out of the package, and bam, Deja Vu, strong Deja Vu. Weird, but it only lasted a minute before fading. I get a few cases of this a year, and it never fails to freak me out. Especially since I saw The Matrix. Am I just living in a simulation? Did I tap into an alternate dimension? Do I have a brain tumor? Have I lived this life before?

Oh, ugh, re-incarnation; I hate re-incarnation. If you think about it logically there's only one soul. All life that is, was, or ever will be, are just different aspects of this one soul on it's journey to nirvana. How depressing. Thank God I'm an Atheist.

Just keep telling yourself that you've never read this before. βeta, out.

I cheat.

These are some forum posts I did earlier that I feel like sharing. Today was interesting.

"It's barely noon and my day is already down the tubes.

Started out about two hours before I had planned to wake up with me breaking part of a bad tooth off in my sleep. I clench my teeth sometimes and I guess they slipped. So, I'm up two hours early after going to sleep two hours late. The pain dies down fairly fast but it's too late for me to get back to sleep, not that I didn't try. Eventually the alarm goes off and I stumble out of bed. I'm able to get dressed and make coffee without incident. But, before I'm even out the door, I get a damned thumb tack stuck in my front wheel.

Not wanting to be late, I decide to just walk the bike to work(less than a 1/4 mile). I use it for work so, they don't mind if I have to do a little maintenance every now and then. I use a glueless patch to try and save time, and I might have, if the damned thing had actually held. Oh, it was fine at first so I put the tire back on, knocking over my coffee in the process, of course. After a test ride everything looks good so I park it outside my office and get some paperwork done.

An hour, or so later, I have to go to the other side of the property, the patch still seems to be holding. I take about half an hour over there, mainly waiting on a slow computer. But, while I'm waiting I get bored and hop on the bike for a quick spin. I think this must have been to much for the cheap patch, cause ten minutes later when I get on to ride back to my office, the tire's flat.

Another walk to the workshop, another patch(the good kind this time), and now I'm sitting here, writing this, as I wonder what's going to happen next.

Anyone else have any good Monday stories? I'd love to hear that I'm not alone in my suffering.

P.S. I know I need to see a dentist and I will as soon as my insurance is renewed, I've already used up my allowance for this year.

P.P.S. This morning could have been worse, there was an earthquake around 4:30 am that I thankfully slept through.

Update: ARRRGH!

I don't mean to sound negative, I'm actually laughing about this right now.

So, yeah, after two months of riding with no flats I get two in one day. Yup, after finally getting that first one squared away. I go to ride a graffiti check of the property, two, three miles tops. Not only do I pick up a thorn requiring another patch but, my pants cuff gets caught on my frame pump and tears it right off. Ripped right through the velcro safety strap like it wasn't even there. Thankfully the pump and it's mount survived, I just need to replace the strap; I'm thinking zip ties.

At least I'm home now, and hopefully nothing else can happen to my bike. Thanks to everyone for listening to me rant, I'd still like to hear your Monday horror stories."

Fun huh?

In other news: I've decided to hand wash my clothes from now on. I saw this site http://homelessdave.com/hdwashingman.htm and think his setup would be perfect for me. Especially since dad is blaming me for breaking his washer. I did two loads of laundry every other week, there's no way I broke it.


more animals

I've only got enough room for a stackable washer & dryer, and they cost a fortune to replace. So, this idea is perfect for me. I can probably fabricate a hand washer for next to nothing(and there's always the bucket method), and I'd like to think I have enough technical knowhow to hook a bike up to my old washing machine. Whether this is true or not, we shall see. I'll keep you posted.

βeta, out.

Crafty

I'm bored, and wish to post something, but all my creativity has been sucked up by the NaNoWriMo book I'm writing. So, I will instead share this thing I built Friday. I am very proud of my little clipboard holder. It is very pretty; I even put my flag on it to make it prettier.

(Do you even have your own flag?)

I didn't take any pictures of the basic build, it was just so simple I didn't see the need for a photographic record. So, you get to see it after it's all put together.

(A picture's worth a thousand words)

This is about the time I remembered I had a camera with me and thought it might be a good idea to take a few snapshots. As you can see, it's a very simple build. Hell it's just a skinny box.

I took a bit of paneling and an old 1x2 that had been gathering dust in the workshop, I used a jigsaw to cut the paneling into two pieces as tall as my clipboard and a couple inches wider. Using the same jigsaw, I cut three pieces of 1x2 for the sides and bottom of the box, then screwed everything together.

(Come closer my dear)

A quick test fit showed me the clipboard went in fine, but was a pain to get out. So, I used a paint can to mark out the groove. Jigsawed both sides out, then took some sandpaper to the whole thing.

(This was the only tricky part)

Took me a good half hour to find something suitable to hold it in place. Trying to find anything in that workshop is a royal pain, and always takes forever. These hooks aren't perfect, but after all that searching, I just wanted to get the thing finished.

(Ah, paint fumes)

Here it is again after a couple of quick coats of spray paint. I love the color, if you look at the other picture you can see it darkened up just a bit after drying.

(That bungy was to keep it from flapping around)

That bungy was a piece of shit. Stupid thing tore completely apart the first time my heel clipped the box. I'm luck it didn't get caught in the spokes. If you look back at the first picture you'll see that I'm now using a much thicker cord. This new one keeps the clipboard from bouncing around too.

I want to paint my flag on there, but I'm lazy, and painting those curves are a real pain in the ass.

Bonus pictures below.

.
.
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(Is that cool or what?)

I found this when I was looking for hooks, it's a glas vial holding 50cc. of dextrose solution. Dating back to whenever the hell they still used glass vials for dextrose solution. Probably sometime in the sixties.

(Came all the way from Philly)

I was so tempted to pop this thing open and chug the contents. As it is, I still want to go back and take it. It's just so damned cool looking.

βeta, out.

FUCK!!!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccck!

Jesus God-damned motherfucking tap dancing Christ, that shit-headed salad-tossing shiester son of a sick spunk sucking swill-slathered sleazy slag of a slut still hasn't been fired. We're stuck with this tool tossing taint tasting testicle touching tea-bagging tactless twit of a tit-faced tampon-loving twat for two more weeks.

I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

Tammy, hope you don't mind sharing your office cause I'm moving in with you.

Merde, that was a lot of profanity. βeta, out.

Work: The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly.

Yes, another work post... Quit bitching, it's my blog and I'll write about what I want. You can blame Tammy for this one, she practically begged me to make fun of her. She's just about the only good part left at work, and I don't think I'll last very long after she leaves. Not that I'd planned to anyways.

She was attacked today, a foul beast got it's teeth into her and would not let go. She struggled bravely in silence for a good five minutes before finally admitting defeat and calling for help. Our manager, unable to assist her called for reinforcements, namely me. It was not a moment too soon, for by the time I arrived Tammy had tears in her eyes, and must surely have been contemplating the inevitable emergency room visit, should I fail to extricate her.

Try as I might I could find no way to release her from it's insidious grasp, my efforts only making the fiend bite harder into her flesh. I had come to the conclusion that I would have to either destroy the dastardly brute, or amputate her hand in order to free her.

Then, just as I had picked up the scoundrel in order to get a better look at it's soft underside. It's grip loosened, and Tammy was able to extricate herself. Though not without a nasty mark, which she will likely carry for the rest of her years. A hellish sigil branded onto the back of her hand, a reminder that the creature has a taste for her flesh & will be back for more.

(okay, I may have been exaggerating slightly, but she really did have tears in her eyes when I got there.)

(and after she was freed. It really was a very harrowing experience for all of us.)

I should stop here at the good, but I already picked the title, and can't change it now:P So, onto the bad. There is far too much for me to list it all here -I'd be up all night- but I can give you a couple of the sticking points.

First, is being stuck in that damned office all by myself. I feel like I'm being punished for something. I never handled being grounded well, and that is exactly what this feels like. I don't care that I've got a fast computer, or high speed internet connection. I've still got nothing to look at but a freaking block wall and a bunch of idiots who walk past(that's part of the ugly and I'll get it in a minute).

Secondly, is our fucking boss coming down every god damned week to check up on us. We're not children, quit treating us like we are. I remember when she'd go months between visits. It's not only that, but she seems to be losing it. She can't remember conversations that happened only days before, and keeps issuing conflicting orders. We went through this with our old manager, and I thought that was tough. You try telling your boss that she's looney toons.

(I tawt I taw a.... Durrr...)

Okay, on to the ugly. Working property management is likely to make you a few enemies. Well, one of mine is a child molesting piece of scum. This fucking maggot has slandered and even libeled me on numerous occasions. And get this, he was stupid enough to try and blackmail me with the threat of some non-existent pictures.

I know I'm a public figure around here, and carry myself as if I'm being watched all the time, because I probably am. My record is beyond reproach, and everyone knows it. But, he runs bingo and is friends with most of the people around here. So they all probably think I'm a bigger pervert than he actually is.

What really pisses me off though, is that that fucking child rapist wasn't even forced to move away from the two schools less than a block from his house. I guess if you only diddle your own children, the State doesn't think you're a danger to any others. They've clearly never seen the way he stares at the kids in the pool, or how he drives up and down the street when school is letting out.

I can not tell you how many times I've wanted to print up a thousand copies of his Megan's law profile and just plaster it all over the community. I can't do that though, cause that would be harassment. I just love that part too, I can't harass the asshole who's been harassing me, or I'll be the one to get in trouble. So, I leave it up to my boss, and what does she do? She ignores it like just like she's ignored every other fucking problem she's ever been faced with.

Problems like an old security guard threatening my life. Her response? To tell me to suck it up and not to worry cause I'm bigger than him, and could take him in a fight. Who cares if I could take him in a fight? The fucker walked around with a gun on his hip. No disciplinary action, no nothing; that company ended up dropping us as a client. She should have fired their asses and sued the fuckers for breach of contract. Assholes caused more problems than they solved anyways.

All she's done this time is to pass it on to her ineffectual, lazy ass lawyer. This guy has taken care of maybe one thing in the past year, and there's at least a dozen files awaiting his action. Most of which could be solved with a letter written by his assistant. He says there's nothing he can do, even though this scum bag is in violation of at least three of our community rules. One of which states that any violation is grounds for immediate revocation of his lease agreement.

So, I told my boss that she has until the end of the year to get rid of the scum before I take matters into my own hands and sue him for libel & harassment. What I didn't tell her, is that I'm also going to sue her for providing an unsafe work environment.

Alright, I'm almost done. I just want to leave you with one last insight into how ugly this world truly is. This walking pile of diseased baboon excrement has somehow convinced his church to cover his fucking rent. Yeah, that's right people; a church out there is actually paying for a pedophile to live less than 500 feet from an elementary school. Doesn't that just renew your faith in humanity?

βeta, out.

P.S. Sorry about the rant, I had intended this post to help calm me down after a bad afternoon of work, but it kinda got away from me.

P.P.S. I want ramen. I just finished a bowl of roasted garlic chicken soup with penne and veggies. It was very good for a chicken soup, but it had nothing on those delicious little brick noodles. I don't know why, but I've been craving salty foods lately & ramen hits that sweet spot like nothing else.

P.P.P.S. I spent a good ten minutes looking for that picture of tweety.

I'm writing a novel.

November is National Novel Writing Month, and I have finally worked up the nerve to try my hand at it. It's somewhat more difficult than I would like, I can already feel that 50,000 word count looming over my head. I am writing though, and that's the important part.

These blog posts come easy to me, but I've always wanted to write fiction. So, that's what I'm doing. Line by line, word by word. I know the point of NaNoWriMo is to just write, but I'm a perfectionist, and very self-conscious about my writing. Well, my fiction at least. This is just stream of consciousness stuff, and as long as there aren't too many typos. I couldn't care less.

I've got to thank Jessica for the inspiration for my book, even though she denies giving me the idea. She said I should write about working with freaks, since I have so much experience at it. So, that's what I did, except I made the whole world full of freaks. Basically a science experiment gone wrong caused all the dimensions to bleed together. Now the world is full of all the strange and wonderful creatures we used to think were just myths. They're regular guys like the rest of us though, you've just gotta watch out when they don't get their morning coffee.

The novel follows(or will follow) our protagonist (whose parents are somewhat responsible for the bleed) through his first day at work for the company that picked up the pieces after the accident. That's what I've got so far at least.

Any comment, ideas, large cash advances, or movie deals are welcome.

Insomnia has me in her cold grip once more.

Tired this long day.
My mind rises as night falls.
Sleep abandons me.

Wow, haiku. I really must be out of it. Four hours last night, and I'll be lucky to get as much again tonight.

Monday was good, felt nice to get out of the house and doing something. Thought I was going to be able to handle Tuesday. Then the shaking started, that was unpleasant. The nausea, and ten minute long nosebleed weren't much fun either. I think I need to see the doctor, seem to be a lot of symptoms for just some stress. Though with the awesome power of my mind, I wouldn't be too quick to dismiss a purely psychosomatic cause.

(You never forget your first doctor, or second, or ninth. How many are they up to now? Ah, who cares. He's my favorite.)

I hate Stumbleupon. It may not be the cause of my insomnia, but it sure as hell doesn't help. I was actually able to divorce myself from the computer Monday night, not that it helped any. I still couldn't get to sleep until after three in the morning. Not even going to bother tonight. Eventually I'll get tired enough to put the laptop down. At least this way I've got something to do while I'm not sleeping.

Shouldn't have worried about work though, boss lady never did come down. She's supposed to come out later this week, but I've got the feeling she's just going to keep delaying. I'm surprised that she's so successful. I guess, like most things in life, it's how motivated you are, not how good.

This certainly holds true for me. I've got all the innate talent or skill anyone could want(did I mention the awesome power of my mind?), but little to no motivation to go with it. Probably a good thing for humanity in general, as I do tend towards the whole mad-scientist/super-villain end of the spectrum.

(Imagine him but with long hair, and you know, less fashion sense or good looks.)

Oh well, I'm off to click that Stumble button until I run out of internet, or brain cells. Whichever comes first.

βeta, out.

Well, so much for that.

Please disregard my last post. Looks like I'll be taking a six-day weekend after all. Probably longer.

My glorious return to society & another transhumanist rant.

My apologies to any who might have tried to contact me this week. The stress was finally too much, and I had to take a few personal days. That means no phone; I hate the damned thing & will take any reason I can to shut it off for a few.

Well, it looks like the source of said stress will not be there tomorrow (somebody never got a doctor's not releasing him back to work. Oopsies), and I have been asked (read begged) to return. I'm still not happy at the situation, but frankly, I'm getting bored. I had plans to get some stuff done this week, but instead spent the whole time watching cartoons & fucking around on the internet. All in all, time well spent.

Okay, on to the craziness. Actually this one isn't too crazy, nothing like having magnets implanted in my finger tips. Still too much of a coward to actually go through with that one btw. This latest idea is much more sane. It's just a pair of sunglasses actually

(not really my style but it's what they do, not what they look like that interests me.)

See those funny vertical lines on the side? Those are actually a modified Fresnel lens designed to add an extra 25 degrees of perception to each side of your peripheral vision. A person's peripheral vision is used mainly for motion detection, and since the front is undistorted. This is an excellent way to extend your senses with few if any drawbacks. Sure, it might take a while to acclimatize, but an extra 50 degrees added to your field of view could be the difference between life and death.

As most of you know(because I won't shut up about it), I'm starting to get pretty serious about biking. Now, I'm confident enough to share the road with the giant metal cages (and the tiny little people driving them), but I'm not stupid enough to think I won't be the loser in a collision. So, all my senses are on constant lookout; if only cagers (I love that term) paid half as much attention to the road as cyclists must.

That's why I want these glasses so much, though I'd probably wear them even while not riding. To see what's coming up behind you is just so freaking cool.

No comic book/Pauley Shore reference this time. All I can think of are some characters from Naruto. βeta, out.

P.S. I got an anonymous comment asking for more posts. So, here you are Mr. or Mrs. Anonymous.

Down the rabbit hole.

I'm tumbling and don't know how or when I'll land. I hate this feeling. I feel like writing bad poetry, but I enjoy my small following(all one of you), and don't wish to turn them off my writing forever.

Work, work, work. That's all I talk about lately, even I'm getting tired of hearing it. Work is not my life, it's where I go to earn money. That's it. Dammit!

I hate to bring work up again but it's stalking round & round my mind, refusing to quiet down. The nutjob is back after two weeks of bliss where work was almost enjoyable again. And now it's worse than ever. The situation is untenable; I can not stand to work with this fool for any longer. So, I have decided to shun him and his idiot wife.

This is the only way I can see to get through the day. The thing is, ignoring someone that you have to share an office with is a serious mental & emotional drain. The best I've been able to manage is trying to think of him as one of those little yip yip dogs. I'm an animal lover, but those damned things just make me want to kick `em in the head with my steel-toed boots. So, basically there's no real change in my attitude towards him.

The only pleasure I got during those endless five and a half hours was from the knowledge that my silent treatment was driving him nuts. He's starting to throw out vague threats, like his parting words today "Just remember, this was your choice." It was all I could do not to laugh in the fucker's face.

But, there's only so much of that kind of sick enjoyment you can take before you just get sick. I'm just so tired of this shit. It's gotten to the point where I actually want to get fired. Just so, I can kick back on un-employment for a few weeks while I try to recover my sanity.

Sorry, for the depressing post. I just don't know what I'm going to do. βeta, out.

P.S. if anyone's still looking for "solstice" gift ideas for me. There's this, it's only $500 plus $100 for shipping. If you buy me this, I will love you forever & ever & ever & ever. I love everything Alice & that game kicked serious ass. Wish there was a sequel or a remake with better graphics.

I stole a kiss, and left her breathless.

And that, is all you're getting out of me Tammy. So don't even ask.

Apparently certain people don't know how to take a joke. I have learned that I face death and dismemberment Monday if I do not wring the creative juices from my mind for the entertainment of others. Being rather partial to a fully appendaged life. I feel I must comply.

The problem is, as I have stated previously, that most of my writing is fueled by strife and conflict. Or, at the very least, sleep deprivation and alcohol. I can, on occasion, post about the good things in life, and while today's outing certainly merits it's own post.

I find that I must punish certain people for certain actions. Such as planning our wedding before we've even had a first date (great way to set the mood Tammy.) So, my love life shall forever more remain separate from my writing. You only have yourself to blame.

I hope these few paragraphs have been enough to spare me a fate worse than death, `cuz that's all you're getting out of me. :P

βeta, out.

----------------
Now playing: PJ Harvey - This Is Love
via FoxyTunes

A post for Tammy

Well, you asked for it. So, here it is.
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Friday was a pretty momentous day

I finally bit the bullet, and bought a bike. I've been riding an exercise bike for a bit over a month to get back into shape. Not there yet, but I can manage a couple hours with no problem. So, I decided to get the real thing. I was starting to get bored staring at the same thing all the time.

(Here it is right after I got it home)

(Complete with it's first scratch courtesy of Dad's stupid paint rig)

It's a Raleigh Venture 3.0, a 21 speed comfort style bike. This thing is huge too, I'm 6'3" and the handle bars come up to my chest; a 22 inch frame on 26 inch tires. I got it for just over $300 at IE Bikes in Murrieta, the whole family had gone out to check on my sister in law. She was in the hospital after having a parasite removed(more on that later).

(Decked out with all the accessories)

I had planned to check out the Cannondale Comfort at Redhawk bikes in Temecula, but Erin, my sister in law, mentioned IE Bikes. They were just a couple blocks from the hospital. So, I figured what the hell, and went to have a look. Lucked out too, first bike I tried fit perfect and was a couple hundred cheaper than what I was looking at.

I spent the money I saved on some stuff to trick out my ride :p I would have gotten most of this stuff eventually, but it's nice to have it all now. I got a pump, water bottle & rack, head & tail lights, patch kit, multi tool, tire guage, spare inner tube, dorky looking helmet(I care more about my brains than I do fashion & so should you. In fact, everyone should care about my brains), and an under seat bag to hold everything that doesn't bolt to the bike, or strap to my head.

(Here it is crossing my exercise bike. Hard to see the scale from these pics, but trust me it's ginormous)

Onto Erin's parasite. She had been dealing with this thing for about nine months now. Apparently she contracted it doing something shady with my brother, I really don't want to know exactly what. He came out of it fine, but she had this thing growing in her belly. The little bugger was 7 pounds, 3 ounces and 19.5 inches long when they cut it out of her. She(the doctors were some how able to determine it's gender)came out of the surgery fine, The doctors gave it a bunch of tests, some shots, even took prints of it's lower apendages. Erin seems to have lost it. She's decided to keep the parasite, and has even named it Elizabeth. I know these past nine months have been tough on her, but this is just crazy.

(Erin can been seen exposing her breast to the creature in some bizarre ritual designed to appease the beast)

No one else seems to find her behaviour odd. Everyone's doting over it, wanting to hold it, cooing at it in strange voices. I think it has some strange hold over their minds. My brother, Gary, in particular seems enamored with the parasite.

(He can be seen here, holding the parasite hours after it's extraction. I think it's trying to eat his finger.)

All kidding aside. Happy birthday Elizabeth Snow.

I'm gonna call her Snow White. Now they just have to have another one called Rosalie. Then we can have Snow White & Rose Red(read Fables, it's a great comic book).

I'm an uncle, again. βeta, out.

I want to have magnets implanted in my finger tips.

(a 1/16th of an inch rare earth magnet wrapped in gold and coated with silicon. Image pulled from a German site that sell body mod supplies. Hope they don't mind)

Not all my finger tips, just the Pinkie, Ring, & Middle Fingers on each hand. I use my Fore Finger and Thumb too much for me to feel safe having implants there. I had read articles about magnetic vision before, but the idea was new and had a lot of failures. Those problems were mainly due to a weak coating of bio-compatible silicon. The new implants use a "harder" type of silicon along with a better coating practice.

(three 5/16" rare earth magnetic spheres in the palm of my hand. That's a black plastic coating you're seeing, not shiny space metal. If you look close you can see how the plastic has been worn away from the poles. I end up with black powder on my hands every time I play with these.)

So, I was stumbling along last night, and came across an article on BMEZine(no link because of the ick factor)that mentioned the new implants. I hadn't heard about these before, so I went searching for more info. There's not much. Most of it's on BME, and none of it newer than last year. Still, it peaked my interest, and I gobbled up every word I could find. I even went so far as to glance over some of the icky surgery photos(most of the pioneers are robust body modders, while I'm coming at this more from a squeamish transhuman viewpoint). One article estimated only about 100 implantees world wide. This was last year, but I doubt it's grown much.

I don't know why. This is the coolest thing ever invented. These people have given themselves an entirely new sensory apparatus. They are literally SuperHuman. I blame the Wired article for painting a bad picture to the average neophyte who might have been interested in this. All the guys with horns, scars, peircings, & tattoos probably didn't help much either. That and really, who's going to let some guy with horns, scars, peircings, & tattoos cut open their finger. Even if it is just for something just a little wider than a nickel is thick. Pull out a tape measure and look at just how small 1/16th of an inch really is. I'm sure most of us have nicked ourselves worse while making dinner. I sure have. Hell, my brother lost the entire tip of his finger when he was a kid(my fault that. Sorry Bro). There was no bone damage so it grew right back, you can't even tell anything ever happened.

(No, I am not going goth, or emo. I'm just wearing my favorite toy, in bracelet form, while giving myself a taste of what it's like to be super human.)

I also realized that most people aren't going to have surgery if they don't know what they're missing. The solution didn't come to me until earlier today while playing with my favorite toy. I've got hundreds of these little magnetic spheres, an impulse buy from a few months ago that was so worth it. So, there I was(ditching work to stay at home and play with myself), wishing I could feel the magnetic forces all around me(yes, this is how I normally think). When it came to me. If implanting tiny magnets works so well, then maybe taping some larger ones to my fingers might give at least a basic idea of what it's like. Damned if it didn't work like a charm.

(First Person Feeler: The Groping)

I was able to feel anything with a motor from inches away, and the microwave from almost a foot back. I'm sure the strength of the magnets (and the cheap ass shielding on my microwave) had something to do with how far I could sense, but this should work for anything stronger than a fridge magnet. Especially near a microwave.

(The scissors are just a demonstration. Each of these magnets is more than strong enough to pick up a hammer)

You have to try this at home. Trust me you'll be clamoring for the implants just like I am. Hell, I'm gonna try to get my doctor to do it. He'll probably want it done himself after I give him the demonstration. I'd like to have Steve Haworth do it but he's in Arizona and the only painkiller he has to offer is a glass of ice water.

Iron Man, Iron Man. He can do whatever an iron can. βeta, out.

Just a quick update.

The idiots are still here. Who knows if anyone else will be come tomorrow.

Everyone else was in a meeting when I left. I didn't have to go because I'm the golden boy, employee of the Fucking Month.

Big Fucking Deal. You want to be employee of the month? Do nothing but smile and nod. Smile & Nod. Everybody will think you're such a great guy while you walk around with a dopey grin imagining all the horrible things that could happen to them.

I guess the idiots - as they will be referred to when I must speak of them collectively. I much prefer calling them "The Incompetent One" & "The NutJob", but it's a pain to type that out every time. - are now trying to blame everything on Tammy. She's done nothing wrong though. The only reason they're going after her is because she wont back down when the incompetent one starts picking a fight(which she always loses because she's a fucking moron). Not that that stops her from running off to her nut job husband in tears complaining about how everyone's so mean to her.

Oh, get this. They've been going around to the residents asking them what they hate most about everyone in the office. They should never have been hired here. I'm starting to think they were only put here to drive the rest of us away. Here's a tip to employers out there. If you don't care about your employees, they won't care about the job.

I am so glad I don't give a shit about this job anymore, now I can start having some fun. First up, a little revenge on a certain "creep". I'm gonna try to milk it until January when the insurance gets renewed. So, I can get some more teeth work done(already used up this years allowance), but after that. I'm outa here. Sooner if I can find something where the benefits kick in fast. I know the economy is shit right now, but all I need is twenty grand a year to live comfortably. That and a decent work environment.

Schadenfrued is your friend. βeta, out.