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Thread: The funny RL observations and anecdotes thread RPG omnibus

  1. #451
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    I am so fucked. All of it thanks to abusing my overdraft protection.

    Doesn't help that this week I didn't put in very many hours at work, because of, essentially, lack of stuff to do.

    Fortunately, I was able to unlink my checking account from Geico in order to defer payment until next week. But that's going to be a shit show, especially if I can't pay the premium next week. And, no, I have no idea how much they're going to roll over in fees and recomputed monthly premiums once I reconnect my automatic deposit.

    And forget about the electrical bill. Well, I stay on top of that, at least in the past, and I suspect they're happy enough to wait a bit, just so long as I don't blow them off for like months. At least I think so.

    With any luck, my paycheck this Friday should cover (barely) the overdraft fees and the hundy I withdrew with it. If not, when I see the pending deposit tomorrow, I can do a cash deposit at the ATM.

    No, this is going of weeks where there's going to be no going out, no buying beers, and hoping against hope I don't run out of gas during the commute.

    With some good luck, I can get by by buying a big bag of drugstore pipe tobacco. Or just severely curtail my cigarette use. Either way I'm not going to be happy about that, especially.

    Sobering thoughts, indeed.

    So, the lesson of the tale is (i) don't be a spendthrift (ii) don't be greedy (iii) pay all your bills early, when you're sure you can cover it (iv) and don't be broke, because it sucks.

    And, no, I don't have any good ways to raise some quick cash: I guess I could sell some books, but I've already trimmed my modest library down to the bare wire. I don't have any musical equipment I want to sell. Pawn shop for musical equipment? But I just don't know where one is near me, and I don't want to burn the gas. I only probably have a couple bucks in empty beer cans: not really worth it, also that is quite a drive to the return center.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 18 Sep 2019 at 11:12 PM.

  2. #452
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    Well, turns out it's not quite as bad as all that. Pending deposit of this week's paycheck, which is much larger than I feared, I can cover Geico and have like thirty something bucks left over for some gasoline and sundries. And I was able to buy a big bag of pipe tobacco today, which will last me quite a while.

    Electric company? Meh, they're not disconnect me, given that I regular pay up per month for years and years: I think they only shutoff your power if you're like months deliquent or something.

    Not going to be drinking much beer for the next few weeks, though, I'll tell you what!

    That's probably for the best.

  3. #453
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    That's not, from what I can see, true, about my local electrical utility: they care if you have made NO payments for, I think fifteen days after the "due date" for the current bill.

    Usually I just slip them a ten or a twenty (electronically!) per week or whenever I feel like it, and it's been a dog's age since I got one of those fancy-colored envelopes in the mail. The bill always gets paid, I just don't see the percentage in putting myself out to do it all at once.

    Meh, maybe I'll have them take a five-dollar token payment tomorrow or late tonight when my paycheck clears.

    Or, maybe I'll just wait and see what happens.

    They shouldn't be fucking with me, IMHO, since it's been years I've been making good on my bill at the same address, but, you never know.

    OR, I bite the bullet and call the number and say, "Yo, this week's drop is going to be a little late, cool? You're going to get your money, but don't send your people after me or nothing."

    Really. A telephone.

    In this day and age.

    Well, OK, if that's their procedure.

  4. #454
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    Jesus fucking christ.

    I just spent about six or seven minutes trying to capture (then crush — I am not a good man) this baby rat around my bathroom.

    Almost had it under the toilet plunger a few times.

    Ah, but at least it appeared to have escaped into one of my hall closets where I keep clean bath towels near to the floor. Or my bedroom.

    Shit.

    That was no mouse I ever seen, that was a goddamned baby rat.

    FUCK.

    Well, I guess I live in interesting times.

    So, apparently my small surplus of money is going into getting big ass traps and you best believe I'm going to be crossing my fingers in the hopes I get it.

    "It?" Pretty damned sure it's not just one.

    I am a complete slob, always have been, wherever I've lived, but I've never had even so much as a cockroach or anything bigger than a pantry moth in my places.

    Fuck.

    Maybe it's the weather changing to the rainy season?

    I don't know the reasons, all I know is those varmints, or at least the one, is going down.

    And, no, I came so close to catching under the toilet plunger, and there's no doubt I would have crushed it and nuked it from orbit.

    Yeah, maybe I'm a bad man, but, I'm sorry, I just can't have that in here.

    ETA could explain the rotting smell from my crawl space above my home office.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 19 Sep 2019 at 10:33 PM.

  5. #455
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    That's it. I'm buying strychnine and a bunch of rat traps.

    If there's some goddamned infestation, those motherfuckers are going down.

    Can't have it.

  6. #456
    Oliphaunt Rube E. Tewesday's avatar
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    You can easily buy strychnine in your jurisdiction?

  7. #457
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    Pretty sure. If not, AMZ delivers all kinds of stuff that is otherwise not supposed to be shipped by the federal post office.

    If not, whatever is in rat poison that isn't strychnine. I have heard rats find it delicious, and then they go apeshit, either hiding in the walls, or leaving trails of blood and viscera all over the place.

    I think it could have been a mouse, though: it was about three-and-a-half to four inches long, including the tail. It had rounded ears, like a rat, and was brown in color like a rat, but those can be features of mice as well.

    No food products in my kitchen have been visibly disturbed, nor have I found any droppings.

    ETA Perhaps not. There seem to be some controls over its purchase by people without some kind of credentials or license. But, similar to buying lock-picking equipment, it wouldn't surprise me if it could be found pretty easily.

    EETA You can absolutely buy strychnine-containing bait and are legally allowed to use it for below-ground pests, provided the product contains no more than 0.5% of the chemical. Cite: this PDF data sheet issued by the US Environmental Protection Agency
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 20 Sep 2019 at 12:13 PM.

  8. #458
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    EEETA However, its handling is known to be not very good for humans at all, through multiple modes of transmission.

    So, one would be, it seems, advised to wear a respirator, gloves, and other protective equipment.

    And it wouldn't be a bad idea to purchase ahead of time a bottle of ToxiBan Suspension, so to minimize the risk of perishing on the way to the ER.

    All these products are available on AMZ for relatively low cost.

    Strychnine would appear to be difficult to synthesize without a relatively sophisticated home laboratory.

  9. #459
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    "Popcorn you can trust."

    That is one big horseshit slogan.

    I want to know three things about microwave popcorn:

    (i) Is it wholesome?

    (ii) Does it taste good?

    (iii) Will it give me diarrhea?

    Actually, any food, really.

    Bunch of ponces with their fancy slogans.

  10. #460
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    OK, fine.

    I believe I can trust Jolly Time Blast o' Butter microwave popcorn to deliver remarkably few unpopped kernels, with no burning, and a completely recklessly delicious flavor.

    And it appears to be wholesome — I didn't find any rodent hairs or spurious elements in my sampling.

    While it's too early to tell, I'm fairly certain the fiber content of the corn will not inspire loose stool.

    It's still a stupid slogan, though.

    AND I'm glad I didn't find a live mouse in the microwave, because then I would have been FORCED to close the door and nuke it, which would have put an end to...any future use of the microwave. Well, I guess I could have cleaned it....but...mmmm....I don't know. Maybe if I was really drunk I'd eventually have cleaned up the cremains.

  11. #461
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    That was kind of funny.

    So, I stop in at this grocery store probably once a day. Sometimes on the way to work, with my little "high-visibility safety vest" with all my badge and work gloves and shit clipped onto it, often on the way home to pick up a beer or something to eat.

    Obviously, I'm first-name with most of the regular cashiers, if I'm buying cigarettes or whatever, usually they'll ask "cigs?" and I'll "please, yep, two packs."

    That kind of thing.

    Ahh. The plot thickens. There's a younger woman (I don't know, late-twenties, early-thirties) who's an assistant front-end supervisor named "Missy" (no kidding). She's pretty darned hefty, but not really like orca-fat. And she's cool.

    I was leaving the checkout lane and she made a big point of giving me a big wave as I was leaving with a nice smile.

    Hmmm...yeah, I could go me some of that. Never been with a bigger gal, but she's cool and she's not THAT big. Just....husky....I guess. I don't care, she's cool, and I'm pretty sure her parts are in the right places.

    ////////////

    Oh, there's a younger woman at work. Her English isn't too good, and she's probably in her early twenties. Native Spanish speaker. Good steady worker, good to be around, doesn't get in the way.

    I think she's got something in mind with me, although I'm not sure what. She always trusts me to answer questions or even just sometimes to have a small joke or complaint. I wonder if she doesn't have a bit of a crush on me. Or, maybe she thinks of me as like a friendly uncle or something, which is fine too.

    Not sure if I can go that young, and it wouldn't feel right, like dating a student....ahem....not that....I wouldn't know anything about that, but it's not entirely the best idea.

    But I do like that she's getting more comfortable being part of the team (no, I don't mean "Team ME!") and is adapting well to the job. That makes me happy: I think it's difficult for newer hires to acclimate, when a lot of us have been together a while and have inside jokes and just are pretty rowdy. About half-and-half men and women: all equally rowdy. Racially? I don't know, probably half-and-half black and white, and a few Latinos and Indians, so, you know, just a pretty mixed bunch but we all know each other pretty good so for a newbie, maybe kind of intimidating.

    So, I'm happy she's finding her place and being a little more confident in joking around. Her English is really not that good, but it's OK.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 26 Sep 2019 at 07:08 PM.

  12. #462
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    Quote Originally posted by Jizzelbin View post
    I don't know, kind of cute, dumpy, brunette woman whom I could probably convince to go do some crimes with.

    Nah.

    I could probably convince her I was challenged in some ways and get her to take me home with her.
    Oh, turns out, no need.

    It happens she asked me if I wouldn't mind assisting her ward while he was populating some empty sorting racks with empty bags. Apparently she's not allowed to assist her charge with work, but she's supposed to...I don't know what exactly. Whatever she does.

    Of course, I was glad to. Not just because she asked, but just because, you know, that's just what you should do if some help is needed.

    Oh, believe me, man, she was beaming with all kinds of smiles, and not just polite friendly, but like "Oh, my tender parts are aware, what a kind, polite, humble, and capable man!"

    Although...what's with the thick layer of pancake makeup? It looks OK from a distance, and she has good hair, is of a preferred girl-height and weight...the yoga pants are a nice touch. What does she have a history of syphilis or something?

    Well, whatever.

    I don't need to try to bang every woman I interact with in a friendly way.

    Maybe some mysteries are best left unsolved.

    It's still nice to be friendly and professional.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 26 Sep 2019 at 07:36 PM.

  13. #463
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    Ah. I think I found the best solution to a case like Mo___an, assuming she didn't quit (no one's seen her for a few weeks, she might have taken some vacation or something).

    She's probably justifiably intimidated by the height difference between us.

    In addition to the extremely unlikely event that she's not interested in me except as a friendly coworker.

    Anyway.

    So, the general solution is to say, "Hey, I get it, I'm bigger and stronger than you and I sometimes use foul language. So, what you should do is punch me in the face as hard as you can. No rings on the fingers, though, but go ahead. Then, when you see I remain completely calm and don't retaliate, you can let me ride you like a bitch, and you can even be on top."

    Problem solved.

    Or answer in search of a problem.

  14. #464
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    Well, that's one possible interesting thing to do.

    I don't think it's a reasonable request, although the right girl might think it's kind of funny.

    ////////

    About "Missy" (yes, that is her name), yeah, so this morning I dropped by on my way down to do some pool and have some breakfast.

    Yeah, I just walked up to her register (she was the only one on point, so it wasn't like I chose her line).

    Her: "Two packs?"
    Me: "Yes, please!"
    Her: "hundreds or...."
    Me: "No, just king size, you know the shorts....I still can't figure out who buys the 100s..."
    Her: "Yeah, I know, we were just talking about..."
    Me: "Right, yeah, that was a few weeks ago...well, I guess still don't know."
    Her: "Eleven <something>...."
    Me: "Sure, here's twenty and let me get some change....here's twenty and sixty cents [or whatever]"
    Her: "OK, here's twelve cents back [or whatever]."
    Me: "Yep. <hand outstretched, palm flat, like a good customer>"
    [BLAMMO!!!! she misses her target and the change goes onto the rubber conveyer belt!]
    Her: "OH, [I don't remember if she said 'damn' or 'shit'or 'darn', she wasn't happy]. Sorry!"
    Me: "Oh, that's probably my fault."
    Her: "Both our faults."
    Me: "Well, I'll take the fall on this one"
    Her: "No, I got it, I'll take the heat."

    I think that's a pretty accurate transcription.

    She just got flustered and was able to recover her wits and didn't really drop much of her cool in the process.

    So, yeah, she wants me, pretty much.

    So, I got that going for me, but I don't ask service women out as a rule. Although since half the time I see her it's really early in the morning, like zero customers except me...no, still no. I'm not going to chat her up about her job and stuff.

    That is nice, though.

    ////////////

    Speaking of women service women, I did order breakfast this morning along with some beers and quarters for the pool table. I don't know what Britt***'s problem is, lately, she's just been really bitchy. Not to me, specifically, just in general.

    So I get two eggs, wheat toast, potatoes, bacon, and like I always do I make little sandwiches out of them. You know, it's just...I don't know, just the way I always ate bar breakfasts.

    Her: "Oh, you make little sandwiches! That's pretty smart!" (She's genuinely being her regular friendly self here, not sarcastic).
    Me: "<Smirk, eye contact>. Not really."

    That kind of deflated her ego a bit, I think.

    Whatever funk she's been in, I think she's been trying to come out of it and having a quiet bar on a Saturday morning, with me and a few well-known cabbies (she fucking despises Bill, for some reason, I think if I take her at her word because he'll hold court on Sunday afternoon [it's a football bar, so, crowded then], even though he brings people in and orders big and tips big, because he's a big fat old cabbie), so it seemed like normal for her, me practicing pool, drinking steadily, eating something, obviously I tip good.

    So, I feel kind of bad about that.

    No, I mean, I'd screw her and everything, but I don't think of her in that way, and my great fear is that she suspects I'm one of those people who has a "zomg crush on the bartender!" Fucking no fucking way. If I did I would did something about it.

    But she is super-nice, and I try to be nice in return.

    //////////

    AND yes, it would seem the closest relationships I have are with women who sell me things, and people I work with. That's pretty much it.

  15. #465
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    You know, I could probably change my rule about asking service women out.

    After all, when you walk up to her and without saying nothing she's like "Two packs or one?" it's kind of not like being a complete creep to say, when she invariably asks, "Having a good morning?"

    Not much of a stretch to say, "Oh, just planning out my day, got the day off. Play some pool, drink some beers. You shoot pool?"

    Yeah, I think my rules are a bit too rigid: it can be allowed.

    I'll allow it.

    Also, I want to know what a big girl is like in the sack. Like do they fart a lot more than regular ones? Is she going to use all my toilet paper? Is the bed frame going to break?

    Probably..........one third of those is possible.

    No, I'm sure she's a nice girl.

  16. #466
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    Oh, there are so many funny RL observations recently.

    But, for fun, here's a Not-RL observation. Check this shit out.

    I followed the link from some moron on another board about....I think some idiot was saying some garbage about "Turing equivalence" and "Turing completeness" in a completely wrong context.

    But, holy shit.

    This is the reason you don't learn things and science and stuff from random blogs. Not that the author, whose handle I won't name, isn't wrong, but well, the entire approach is wrong.

    And it's offensive.

    To anyone who has ever read more than one book about complexity theory.

    The illiterate prose. The random condescension. The lack of anything anywhere resembling a coherent thought.

    It is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard.

    I award him no points, and may God have mercy on his soul.

  17. #467
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    Actually, I shouldn't have said "complexity theory." That's something else.

    To mock the "author" of that "special" blog, I'll just say "we say computational theory, or sometimes for short the computational time for which to compute the complexity of operations." Yes, that's meant to sound stupid. But, it's sort of accurate.

    Why?

    Why do people read this crap?

    There are actual books written by real people. Some of those also do some blogs. But not nerd blogs.

    There is a giant nerd-bro cesspit into which I'd like to throw fake pundits, stupid webcomic authors and such.

    I'd rather let NatalieDee take care of them. At least she's cool.

    Epic bacon, good sir! Another game of D&D? Or perhaps a refreshing round of XKCD? Why yes, milord! Would you like a Quine or a logic? Nay, mine sooth lord, for that would be a liberal art, good sir!

    No. No.

    No.

    None of this shit.

  18. #468
    Oliphaunt Jizzelbin's avatar
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    You know, it turns out I caught (well, killed by an instrument of killing, namely a Victor [!] brand mousetrap) my first mouse.

    It's kind of not my favorite task, using a pair of pliers and dumping the trap+corpse into the dumpster. I've dealt with dead animals before, but not this kind, where I used the device with the "kill bar" (technical term!).

    Call me a spendthrift, but I'm not reusing the trap. Straight to trash.

    Eh, one down, who knows how many to go.

    I don't care anymore. Fuck it. I'll still leave a few traps out, but I don't fucking care. They seem kind of dumb, and since they haven't been into my pantry or left a bunch of droppings, whatever.

  19. #469
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    Man, I ain't riding in no goddamned trunk for no minute.

    This is what happens when you take some paid time off because they managers scheduled shit wrong. Fucking idiots, taking their marching orders from Seattle, when everybody knows what the situation is on the floor, or they would if they didn't keep pulling each others' puds and paid attention, rather than dealing with their problems of attrition and making some correlations between their under-the-roof-time and the amount of volume they keep shovelling into this warehouse.

    You know, the UTR metrics, employee retention ... this is really something that can be taken care of. Instead of "promoting" a half-dozen more people into doing a sucker's job, called being an "Ambassador," maybe you can work on building your crews up to a competent level.

    And stop all this stupid bullshit about "pins" and "badges" and "wear your stupid costume" day: we don't need any more ambassadors, we don't need any of that bullshit, and we certainly don't give a shit about your stupid company scrip. The latter is like Venezuelan currency: worthless. We need actual people who know what they're doing, which is me and a dozen or so from my crew. And no bullshit about "Oh, let me scan you out for break!" Like they're doing me a fucking favor. Bullshit. We know what we're doing, and if you send down ridiculous, nonsensical routes, then, well, that's your problem.

    It's OK, because I had about three hours sleep last night, after pulling a double shift yesterday at the warehouse. And picked up an extra shift on Friday. Bah, it evens out and puts me slightly ahead into the black.

    Oh, yeah.

    What happens?

    I go and get myself a haircut and do some laundry.

    About fucking time. Penny. Dude, she did about the worst haircut I ever seen. I'm not picky, but that is some raggedy ass shit. Meh, I tipped her five bucks. She'll live.

    Oh yeah, and I got via text this morning that my fucking mother is back in the hospital with her colitis shit again. Goddamned it. Literally about a mile from my place. I guess they're going to keep her for two or three days. I don't have any more information, just whatever.

    You can't ride up front with me. The surprise element is ninety percent of it. I am sorry, man, but I ain't getting in no goddamned trunk.

  20. #470
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    Enough is enough.

    I can't be sitting around my place all day, just at my desk.

    It only takes one misguided impulse, like glancing at Melanie Lynskey's wikipedia page, and I have powerful urges.

    Normally, I think those are sublimated by usual social interactions.

    I think I'm going to drink a bunch of beer, smoke some cigarettes, and just not let it get the better of me.

    Yes, I admit I want to tie Melanie Lynskey up and dominate her in the bedroom.

    FFS, that's plenty normal.

    It's just not a thought I want to have: it's unremarkable, uninteresting, but compelling in an odd, visceral sense.

    Isn't there something else I should be doing? Like memorizing some piano music, or finally setting up the Hammond in my front room after how many years?

    No. Not really.

    I'm just going to drink beer and think about Melanie Lynskey.

    That is the way of shame.

  21. #471
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    Going back to an earlier observation, yesterday I stayed a bit later at work to TCB and for some extra scratch.

    Yes, indeed, I don't know how that happened, but this new crew just seemed to defer (or at least cooperate in a non-combative manner) with me. I guess they think I know what I'm doing, but probably not from any direct observation. I think that's a good "look," even though it's not something I cultivated or wanted to have. Just kind of like the guy who's supposed to know stuff. Now, this isn't rocket shit or anything, but still, I found that odd.

    ///////

    What was genuinely funny was when I went in after work to my usual place a few hours later. This chorus of a few people: "You're late!" Bunch of jokers. Yeah, I know who they are, and, obviously likewise. Bunch of jokers.

  22. #472
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    I don't know where to start.

    A few hours shift differential has really messed with my routine.

    I can't go in to my regular place at like 1700 or 1730 — it's a fucking zoo. And it's one of the quieter places in town.

    And I can't fucking drive at night: yeah, sure, I wear glasses and all that, but it takes too much concentration to deal with the glare of oncoming traffic and their stupid-ass halogen shit-ass lightbulbs. Bull fucking shit mother fucking cocksucking asswipes and their verkakte rigs.

    No. There's more. Plenty more stories, observations, and anecdotes.

    But it's just more than I can say in a mere posting here. It's like a lifetime, a novel, in one week.

    However, I got my flu shot and helped a coworker find her employee ID number so she could fill out the paperwork to get hers.

    That was good, I guess.

  23. #473
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    Meh. Did an extra early morning shift at my old task, picking and staging first-cycle van routes.

    I am very fast and accurate at this task. It's not rocket shit, but it does take some finesse. Never mind waking up at 0230.

    AMZ has already hired a bunch of people for the Xmas rush: jeez, man, some of those kids. I understand they aren't very good, but just do me a favor and don't talk to me, jackass. "You can't put your cart there!"

    Bullshit I can't. Just go around, idiot.

  24. #474
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    I don't know if it's funny, exactly, but my mother told me this morning she has a brain aneurysm somewhere in the frontal lobe. We were going to go for a walk to see this new pedestrian bridge built to facilitate hiker traffic through Forest Park. I also didn't know my father has one, somewhere in the back of the brain, affecting gross motor controls. We ended up driving around for a bit to see if the park surveyors had done anything to ease parking congestion at the various terminus.

    I do have a new joke to say to mom when I see her, "Mother? Is your aneurysm getting bigger again?"

    She got a good laugh at that, probably the first good laugh she had since a month ago, I guess, and she was glad to see I wouldn't freak out like her brother. Long discussion about whether or not to tell her brother, given his ... what's the phrase ... I don't know, general freak-out-itude about stuff.

  25. #475
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    Also, jesus christ, what is wrong with me?

    It seems lately every day after five pm the bar is tended by this woman named Seanna, or Shawna, or whatever.

    She is very slow, but she knows me by now and remembers how I like my beer (cheap and fast).

    I almost got a semi-chub going on yesterday evening.

    And she's like...I don't like forty-five or something, at least.

    Gross, dude!

    And she's totally not cool at all. Definitely got a librarian thing going on, with the glasses and hair pulled back.

    Gross.

    No, I can't be one of those fetish people IRL.

  26. #476
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    All right, fine.

    I have a raging boner ... well, it would be. Yeah, I'm kind of into this new Shawna lady or whatever it's spelled.

    She's the right height. She's kind of impoverished. She's not a vegetarian.

    I think she's a little suspicious of me, but she's only observed me at the traditional "happy hour" time for a few weeks. And my perception may be a bit skewed to notice times when she is less than overly pleased to see me and serve me.

    I still cannot guess her age,,,womens' ages. Probably a mere mid-forties.

    Gross.

    But, I think I could do something with that.

    Have to readjust ... no, that's fine .... yeah, OK. I'm kind of into her.

    All right!

    Game, set, match!

    I'm going to nail an old broad!


    Go me!

  27. #477
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    Quote Originally posted by Jizzelbin View post
    parking congestion at the various terminus.
    Goddammit fuck shit. I thought it was a fourth-declension noun.

    I'll be damned if I'd write "termini." No. Fucking. Way.

    Well, in my defense, it does sort of seem like a fourth-declension word, like "apparatus" and others.

    Fuck. Shit. Goddamned.

    All right, fine. It was a swing and a miss.

    But I don't write or talk with a goddamned dictionary open.

    Although, point against, there were several dictionaries at arms length, including a pocket paperback Latin dictionay and the OED Compact Edition at the time.

    No.

    I did bad.

    That's like some jerkoff pronouncing "processes" as "prah-ses-seez." There is, to borrow some words from Orson Welles, no known way in, pace Welles, any language it can be said.

    In July.

    In July.

    There is no known way in the English language you can say the phrase "In July" and emphasize the "in."

    Show me where it's said, and I'll go down on you.

    Fuck.

    Shit.

    Fucking shit.

    Fuck.

    Goddamned it.

    Well, I guess the lesson is that the word "terminus" is a second-declension noun.

    Apparently.

    Fuck. Shit. Damned.

  28. #478
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    Shit.

    I think I should drop a bunch of acid and just get my head cleared.

    I'm too involved with other people, and I should just go live in a cave for like a week.

    HOW is it possible that out of twenty people on a crew, about seven people are actually doing stuff? Or even try? I mean, I understand it takes a while to get it, but did these people come from underneath a bridge or something? It would make my life a lot easier if they would not try to "help," just don't. I have to go back over every fucking thing to see what somebody might have screwed up.

    No, I'm not saying it's as critical as ATC, but time is a real factor. I move fast, I think fast, I talk fast, and I don't have time to dick around with some bullshit motherfucks. And these are heavy fucking carts, so excuse me if I'm covered in sweat. Just don't be a fucking idiot, people.

    And, more importantly, how in the fucking world can some dipshit have allowed this to happen?

    It's not difficult to compute the average time overages when one adheres to the "each person corrects the Flex drivers' problems in an ad hoc fashion," and correcting for about 70% failure rate of devices, and the addition +20% time spent per route per stager.

    This is not a well-run warehouse. We have unmanageable volume, which is a known quantity, because they fucking come in on goddamned trailers in pallets. This is known. We have insufficient staff who are unseasoned. 20% of the new hires, at best, do anything. 3% of the floor workers have signficant intellectual disabilities: which is great, god love them and everything. I've bonded with a few and they are good at doing repetative tasks and not bothering me. They should not be counted by some fry cook supervisor as "well, hurr, we have enurff people." No, that's a manager's job. We don't have managers here. A few we have. We have a lot of supervisors who are not being handled correctly, and not enough actual managers.

    Also, there is not one IT person in the warehouse. Not one. So, every single driver, vans or flex, and a large number of employees, who rely on stable throughput. What is there? Some repeaters. No reliable device support. No training for employees of the driver apps. Broken devices, poor redistribution of charging stations for company devices. Digital clocks on the floor that are exceeding ten minutes from UTC. No visual displays of routes except for little paper handouts, except when some chooch forgets to put paper in the printer.

    Every single goddamned package that goes to somebody's house in the larger metro area, excepting funiture and gross bulk like that, comes through my warehouse.

    Jesus fucking christ. Get with the fucking program.

    ETA Actually, if some fry cook supervisor wants the chili served at the right temperature. Well, that's good for them. I'm sorry, but I get paid by the hour, so if I put an ad hoc sort ahead of a Cycle 1 or whatever, that's the fucking way it is.

    I'm done with prioritizing routes on the fly: fuck it. So, a four hour driver gets a three hour route.

    Fuck. You.

    "I show that those routes are in the warehouse so I need you to go find them."

    Fuck. You.

    You can have under-the-roof-time, you can have accuracy, and you can have optimal results.

    Not my fucking problem.

    You need more people, you dumbass.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 30 Oct 2019 at 01:00 AM.

  29. #479
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    Today is going to be one of the bad days. This sea-ward supervisor takes over. The other one, she learns, she observes. This one. No.

    Universally despised. Her incompetence at doing the simple arithmetic can be excused, but her manner is not. I'm the last one to have observed this, since I only work "with" her two days a week.

    I'm thinking up a good way to fuck her over, seeing that I'm one of about four or seven people who know WTF they're doing, depending on who shows up today, and I think I've got it.

    I'll just put in "sick time" for fifteen minutes via my phone during the busiest hour, go sit in my car, smoke some tobacco, have a coffee, and then clock back in.

    Yo, "supervisor," when your coworkers start actively planning ways to fuck over your metrics (which aren't yours, but reflect on mgmt, not some little scrub like you), you might reconsider your approach.

    Yep. Menstrual cramps. They're bad this time of year. I can't predict when I have them, but probably about 1523 this afternoon to 1538. It's all been recorded via the employee website, so, fuck, and fuck you.

    And shit no, I'm not breaking a goddamned bead of sweat. And fucking hell no, I'm not taking a radio to listen to this cacophony of bullshit. Follow the chain of command, and if it's important, one of the floor-level supervisors will get it to me. They actually know what they're doing, and we figure it out together, they take my suggestions, I listen to them. We're all a team on the floor, and you're a broken leg on a goddamned harvester.

    Actually, no. That's a petty and stupid way to draw attention to myself, and not the good kind. What I do is, the minute before clocking in, state officially that I'll be leaving after two hours.

    The supervisors don't actually have access to the employee information via official channels: managers do, but not supervisors. They can get it, but it's not up-to-the-minute updates.

    My hands are clean, I've reported my absence ahead of time, via the proper channels, and the next minute you turn around. Where's he? What?

    Well, that's a problem. I actually don't want to hurt my team by just dropping out.

    How can I keep on good terms with my group without doing this slacker bullshit?

    I suppose all I can do is just show up, and do the good old work-to-rule, and just play it straight.

    Slow, but straight and to reg. My people will know what I'm up to, so there's no problem.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 30 Oct 2019 at 12:44 PM. Reason: added some fucks

  30. #480
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    Yeah, I did end up doing that: viz, stating that I would be leaving after two hours, ahead of time.

    Yes, people the next day were like "WTF, dude, we were like looking for you and you weren't here, we thought you like just left, man!"

    Apparently, after living in a place for a while, you sort of absorb the local culture.

    In this case, extreme passive-aggression.

    But, hey, it's not all bad: I finally went native and have a bitchen set of muttonchops. Like that comic thing, the Wolverine, like if he sat around for a few months eating junk food. And without the metal shit. Strong, go all day, but no Wolverine abs.

  31. #481
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    Oh, now I'm fucking pissed off. So, my usual work day 0930 to 1700, Sun-->Thurs.

    Fucking A. I do not like going to my fucking hangout after 1700. Stupid shithead bar, usually they can just pad your tab with, like a hundred bucks, to save you a trip to the bank. It's not free money, it's not a loan. It gets paid when they run their checks after every day, minus their fee.

    No more, apparently. It's like twenty bucks maximum.

    Fuck that. Plus, Shawna's a fucking retard, as is most everybody who comes in after five. No offense.

    I'm switching to Joe's Cellar on my way back home. No, that's not code for anything, it's another dive bar on my way home.

    /////////

    ETA Oh, and another thing, "Jennifer," when I tell you drivelane 3 is ready, it's fine.

    No. You don't need one of your little people to say it's OK.

    If I say over the radio it's good, it's fucking good.

    What'd I stutter, you caked-on-pancake makeup ghoul?

    I'm the one who made it OK, and if I say on the radio the beach is safe to surf, it's safe to surf.

    Door people sassing me? How about I sass you into a fucking garbage can.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 06 Nov 2019 at 12:23 AM.

  32. #482
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    Hmmm. I'm not using the word "fucking" entirely well in text.

    It's pretty close to the way I talk IRL, but I think I say "motherfucker" or "motherfucking" a bit more. But that's longer to type.

    And I underuse some of my favorite RL terms in writing, like "cocksucker" or the more direct "fuck you" (usually said to a third party, understood as being directed to a second party known to us.

    "Fucking A" is represented with verisimilitude in text.

    This is not an exhaustive analysis, but it seems that I could do better at representing my RL speech habits (within the right crowd, of course) in text.

    What the fuck is this goddamned shit, motherfucking cornhole bullshit?

    See, all is right again.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 12 Nov 2019 at 10:45 PM. Reason: Actually, I've never said "fuck you" directly to a person, except as a retort to someone putting me on, in good fun.

  33. #483
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    The bitchen Lemmy Kilmister/Duane Allman/Chester Alan Arthur/Martin van Buren muttonchops are gone. It was a funny joke while it lasted, but it's too much effort. I didn't even keep my lifelong dream to resemble a sex offender with a John Waters-style pencil moustache, and I'm certainly not going to grow one from scratch.

    Although Vincent from Jackie Brown did have a pretty sweet handlebar moustache. I might consider that, but, again, too much effort.

    Nice thing, though, with a safety razor armed with a fresh Astra platinum double-edged blade, it took less than ten minutes.

    With a cartridge razor or a disposable, it could have taken a long ass time, and certainly gone through multiple cartridges or razors, as well as being a PITA.

    Didn't even cut myself, although my bathroom sink is probably not happy about the quantity of hair that passed through its drain.

    And the blade is still bitch-ass sharp as a motherfucker.

  34. #484
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    Fuck all that. Yeah, so I'm going in tomorrow AM to help these motherfuckers do shit, out of the goodness of my heart. Because of course I like to volunteer my efforts.

    Yes, that's a joke. I get paid, obviously.

    But help me god if fucking Jerry starts pulling his shit idea of how to stage carts. Bullshit. The flex drivers expect to see the cart parallel to the drivelane indicators. They've got plenty of room to drive, and I can double-stage in a sensible manner. Fucking Jerry. Fuck him. I know what the fuck I'm doing, and so does he. He's just wrong.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 14 Nov 2019 at 10:41 PM. Reason: autocorrect put "god" as "God." that's cool, but I can't have it. At least I

  35. #485
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    Holy smokes, blank casstte tapes are freaking expensive! No, I haven't checked Amazon, but just glanced at Walmart's offerings.

    Don't ask why I want them, I just do. And, no, I don't have a higher-end deck with a meter to indicate clipping, let alone a full VU meter nor am I going to us audio compression to even out the dynamics, which I should, for the source material I listen to, I just have an older dictaphone desktop model, which is pretty sweet, but aside from speed control on playback, is not really designed for typical audio uses.

    I did feel kind of bad at Walmart today (I had twenty bucks in gift cards "earned" from the Microsoft Rewards program, figured I'd just use them to buy smokes so I wouldn't feel so profligate). I was using the self checkout (which is very nice, actually, at the store I went to — I could scan in my GCs myself, AND use the Walmart app for another GC I didn't have a chance to print out. So, the checkout guy, the helper or whatever, was a big help, since I don't anything about Walmart or all that, I walked over with him to point out the Marlboro Black Menthols (KING size, bitch, why does everyone call them "shorts"? Nobody smokes 100s, anyway, maybe somebody's ancient grandmother with the blue-rinse hair).

    Oh, so anyway, I do all that and some chooch is ringing up peroxide where I had just been not two seconds ago, with a million open terminals, I just say, "Wrong." I think I repeated that a few times when he was justifiably confused. That was sort of me being an asshole, but, since I'm an idiot, I had my phone on the checkout scanning place, plus some printed out coupons, and one of those cloth shopping bags opened up.

    The more I think about it, c'mon. He knew what was up. I don't feel bad about it at all.

    Nor about that asshole flex driver at AMZ today (I came in for a few hours on my weekend), who insisted he just couldn't fit all the packages in his car. When he started to complain after I put my boot on his neck, he was all bitching like "Now I can't see out of the back window!"

    "I don't care. Do it or not, it's just the way we do things." Perfectly calm, no insults, no raised voice. The "I don't care" was the first part, for sure, the second sentence is about right, but I might have said "It's just what Amazon does." I don't remember exactly, but I'm sure it was the "I don't care" that "triggered" that little weenus.

    So like a little bitch he asked to talk to the supervisor after wasting a bunch of time. So I radio her to come over to deal with the "problem driver," within earshot of him. He ended up forfeiting his route, after she probably told him the same thing I did, with him personally taking everything out of his car, not get paid, and a giant black mark on his record as a driver.

    Obviously, it's not a problem for me to say pretty much whatever to these people, but I don't know why he thought he could burn me by tattling to my supervisor. Does he think he's doing me a favor by driving for my warehouse? He's not a customer by any stretch of the imagination. He's there to do as he's told.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 15 Nov 2019 at 07:03 PM. Reason: bolded the key points of articulation

  36. #486
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    My "tech" life or "life" got a bit simpler since I figured out that MS has, years ago, made available PowerShell for Linux devices.

    It's somewhat an important tool for using Windows machines, and I've been admittedly lazy about re-jiggering virtual machines to run Win10, relying instead on WINE to keep current with basic Excel skills I need.

    Now I can just stick to my good old Xubuntu forks with CentOS on the side, and get most of it in one place. Useful Windows/.NET tools, without having to do too much KVM/Quem virtual machine swapping.

    Also, I finally found out that I can use a tool called Termux on my Android phone to get a pretty good Linux shell on Android. So, that's not so important, but at least I can use wget or curl to download large files while my phone is in the car charging on my car-starter battery pack, as well as use vim and all that without having to go through that shitty GooglePlay crap.

    No, I'm not into "rooting" my phone — for me, it's a hassle and I don't care that much, but being able to fiddle with powershell, python3, gcc, git, nosqllite/dynamo, and much of the other good things from the CLI on the phone is a good thing. I mean, fuck all that "file explorer" bullshit and "durr, hey, touch screen make point good!"

    Make no mistake: Android sucks butt, but I'm glad to have stumbled upon a way to use it as a computer, instead of that candy-colored bullshit "me touch screen good!"
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 18 Nov 2019 at 11:53 PM. Reason: ¶ space insert one instance

  37. #487
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    Finally put Windows 10 back on a laptop I wasn't using for much. Unfortunately, the version I could find without having to download from Microsoft (yes, I have a license) is only in French prompts and Cortana voice.

    I thought that would be no problem, but I find it slightly annoying. Cortana's lady French voice is OK, I guess...definitely not a sexy lady voice, but it's OK. But the French have an annoying mixture of words drawn from English and ordinary French words for technology stuff. It's fine, it's just kind of annoying, like switching between languages all the time. It screws up the language part of my brain.

    Computer bitches.

  38. #488
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    Fucking GEICO.

    It's the only insurer for automobiles I've ever used: in the past and now in the present. They've always been pretty cool, gave good rates, gave good lip service over the phone, never any complaints.

    I mean, fucking A.

    This is the second time in the past, I don't know, like year or so, when I try to shuffle around a monthly payment, call them up and say, "Yeah, just put this month's premium on this card, instead of out of my checking."

    They have some inflexible, inscrutable rules, and I'm in principle offended that I'm offering them cash money (well, you know, electronic funds transfer) and they say "Mewl, mewl, it's not been three days before <insert some J** crap>"

    Fuck it.

    I'm going the nuclear option and, since inquiring about quotes from other insurers, my spam folder is littered with quotes and shit, if they don't fuck off and fly right, I'll look forward to saying over the phone, "OK. Cancel my policy immediately. Nope. Nope. I don't want your garbage anymore, you bunch of straightjacketed hooligans."

    They are cheap, and reliable, but fuck 'em.

    ETA Yeah, it's a bit of a PITA to remember my license plate n° and write down the mileage and all that and do a whole forty minute thing over the phone, but it's worth it to say in writing "You have gravely disappointed me, GEICO, and you and I shall not be doing business any longer. Good day, sir."
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 25 Nov 2019 at 11:17 PM.

  39. #489
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    Oh. And the muttonchops. They're back.

    It's not really a conscious decision, just I get busy and distracted and don't shave for a week or ten days, and then the beardlet has to come off in stages. First, trim the neckline — no matter what you might expect, "neckbeard" isn't something I want.

    From there, it's pretty sensible. The densest growth about the chin goes.

    And then, well, inertia sets in. Much like lumbago or whatever.

    All right, tomorrow I get rid of the "chops" but only do to about late-Elvis length.

    I have to pop in a fresh double-edged blade, and if I do much more cutting of facial hair than that, I'm liable to cut myself, which is extremely annoying.

    My only rallying cry to myself in front of the mirror is "Now I know a woman's pain! That is, one who shaves her pubes!"

    Speaking of that.....never mind....that's a story for another time.

  40. #490
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    Oh.

    Spoiler (mouseover to read):
    I was just now told via telephone to GEICO that my good-faith effort to pay this month's premium with my credit card, instead of through my checking account, will result in a $20 "checking account closed" fee.

    Since you will not accept my alternate, valid method of payment, well in advance of the date due, and your CS representative replied that the twenty USD fee should be waived, even including my advance notice and preparation of alternate valid payment, I'd like to cancel my insurance by you effective November 28, 2019.

    It is out of the question that a company should refuse payment in advance, as I offered to do, and I choose to spend forty minutes on the phone with one of the many other companies who solicit my company, rather than do the same fighting against your strict policy of refusing my good-faith efforts to pay.


    Yeah.

    In my defense, it's really hard to write some "customer service" "comment" that doesn't sound bitchy and entitled.

    I understand their point of view, but it's, to me, a ridiculously arbitrary, bureaucratic notion, in the worst sense of that penultimate word.

    Actually, no.

    They can process whatever charge they want. But they're selling me a fat line of horseshit about "Oh, we can't possibly process that, since your previous payment is still being processed."

    If it were a regulatory obstacle, he or she must have said so, or be banished.

    If not, they're just fucking stupid rummies.

    Not that I'm not, but I'm not running a goddamned company, just my own fucking life, which is pretty fucking simple.

  41. #491
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    Well, I'll be a son of a bitch.

    GEICO called my bluff, and as of Nov. 28th, they will no longer be my auto insurer.

    And not only will they refund my premium, but they will do so less their twenty dollar fee.

    I guess I'm now a customer of Progressive, mainly because it's the first company I can think of, and it's the one that doesn't have that stupid cartoon nerd-rape-fantasy mascot with like the fright wig on.

    Well, I did tell them exactly what was what. Apparently they manage to listen when it's dropping their customers, but not when retaining them.

    What an odd business model.

    I'm glad to be done with them.

  42. #492
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    Fuck Thanksgiving. Right in the ass.

    Fuck forced celebrations.

    Fuck everybody who thinks Christmas season begins when Advent season does.

    Fuck Mariah Carey and "All I Want for Christmas is You," and every other song ever made that tasteless mutants listen to.

    And fuck everybody on Black Friday: I hope every single person gets boxes of crab lice from Walmart or whatever.

  43. #493
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    Well, this was somewhat amusing. Regular day at work. I think this driver was in the afternoon batch of routes, but I'd seen her before at least once — one of many regular drivers.

    Maybe mid-to-late twenties, woman/girl, died blue hair, sort of flibberty-jibberty I guess, but pretty cool.

    Yeah, so blah blah, something package missing from her route. So I guide her to getting the QR code through her smartphone "app" so I can scan it and take it off her route.

    "Yeah. It takes a second, I know my screen is cracked. You can touch it if you want. I don't mind if you touch my phone. It's OK, I mean."

    No shit.

    WTH? !!!!!!!

    Goddamned woman, suggestive much? No, I'm not kidding, that's pretty much her dialog 88-95% accurate.

    "You can touch it if you want!"

    Although, in her defense, the company-wide "theme" was "everybody dress in black," and I was one of the few people on this shift who went for it. Black "dress" shirt, black undershirt, black trousers, black lace-up shoes, black socks, black shorts. Black leather belt. Pretty fucking studly if you ask me.

  44. #494
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    Oh. And the high-visibility safety vest.

    It really spoiled my figure!

    No, I did feel a bit bad in that a number of people (it's a small crew, and I was just here as extra help 9h30->1700) did try but a few of the crew were like "Well, I did black wear except didn't have black shoes."

    Yeah, I kind of remembered that not everybody is as old as shit as me and has a bunch of clothes in all colors moldering in some corner of my place.

    I must say, though, wearing adult shoes, rather than sneakers or leather loafers felt good on my feet, even walking miles on concrete warehouse floors.

    I'm glad I had the foresight to put new laces in those ... what would you call them ... just leather boots that look like shoes when the cuff of the pants is over them. Not Nazi boots, nor even dress boots. Just regular leather boots with a leather or synthetic sole that lace up and that I should clean and polish more often.

    My right heel still hurts after a few hours doing stuff in them, but no worse than any other pairs of athletic shoes or loafers.

    /////////////


    Oh, for your amusement. I've smelled a lot of ganj coming off a lot of flex drivers, but this little foreign guy (I don't know, like Belgian probably or something) takes the cake.

    How can you possibly infuse 40 cubic meters with such a pungent smell?

    And it was good stuff, too. I can tell.

    Well, it smelled good, anyway. It was like Pépé Lepew was in the building for about a half an hour.

    Nice guy, cubed out a package that wouldn't fit in his car and he was like "Thank you so much, man. I really appreciate it."

    "Oh, that's all right!"

    Fucking Po5tland, city of immigrants. I think the secret of "European" style is just dress like a human: I still don't understand fashion and whatever. Yeah, I mean, sure, I'll wear my Led Zeppelin T-shirt or whatever black T-shirt with cigarette or pipe burns in it and jeans, probably most days, but it's like tuck in your shirt and "mr. fancy!" I think not. Don't comb your hair with a fork, use a comb. Seems pretty fucking regular to me.

    Words to live by.

    ETA And, no, I don't mean like the usual scumbag piece of crap Portlander who squats in a condemnable "habitation" and is a menace to his or her neighbors, online or offline.

    AFAIC, pieces of garbage like that should be rounded up and sent to Fresham, where they can get their animal molestation and cop-impersonation fantasies taken care of.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 30 Nov 2019 at 01:16 AM.

  45. #495
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    That was funny. At work some chick was like "You know who you look like? Alec Baldwin!"

    So we joked a bit, and I guess she had in mind that checkered shirt the actor wore in the movie Beetlejuice, or however it's spelled. She saw me at the 0400 shift, and, natch, I changed shirts for my second shift into a sort of shirt with a vaguely checkered pattern. More of a Western-style shirt, with fake mother-of-pearl snaps and such. My Led Zeppelin ZOSO T-shirt was soaked with sweat, so it was necessary.

    Weird. Yes, she made a point to mention she was married, so it wasn't that. Just some light-hearted joking around. Not a bad looking woman, though. A little chunky, but she seemed smart, and she probably has friends who are goers. I'm not a perfect specimen myself, and anyway, I can be convinced to fuck just about anything, within reason, so no complaints.

    There are some good looking babes at the warehouse, but just not so much working on my team. I suppose if the gossip mill is still active word is out that I "go there" when it comes to socializing off-duty, although I'm not sure that's a positive thing.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 08 Dec 2019 at 10:08 PM.

  46. #496
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    Holy shit.

    I just interacted with one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life, ever. She was a contractor-driver who was having some problems with her phone. Alas, I could not help her, but I did try, you know tried in vain to get someone on the radio who could just do what I asked.

    Wow.

    That son of a bitch Michael got her up and running by just power-cycling her phone, and what a waste, he claimed to be insensible to her charms because he's engaged to be married, and thought she was too skinny.

    Nonsense.

    No, I wasn't going to creep on her or anything, but I would have enjoyed spending more time helping her fix the problem...just because....well, just because it's fun for me to chat with astonishing, friendly, smart, women with a sense of humor.

    Oh well.

    That was still a memorable encounter.

  47. #497
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    Oh, not to distract from the much more important prurient matters, but here's a funny one.

    So, about once a day, some flex driver (independent contractors driving their own vehicles, just doing piece-work deliveries, sort of like GrubHub or one of those — they just pick a time, and if there's a route for them, they come in and take it) comes in whose whole car and its surroundings absolutely reeks of dank weed.

    I shit you not, some of the more naïve people who actually work for my company were like "that car hit a skunk!"

    No, honey, that may smell a bit like a skunk, but trust me, it's not. At least two people were like running around like "ZOMG they hit a skunk! There's blood on the front of the car. (There was not: I looked)."

    C'mon people, really?

    Oh well. I don't even smoke weed except socially on occasion, but it's not really an obscure bit of knowledge, IMHO. Well, maybe it is for some people.

    Yeah, that's certainly the most likely explanation: someone hit a skunk on the highway, and as a result, umpteen miles later on the open highway, the smell has clung to the car.

    Ahhh. The innocents abroad, the innocents at home.

  48. #498
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    Oh, and in post 495, I didn't mean I changed shirts because of the conversation: I was speculating that she made the connection after I'd already changed shirts.

    BUT, I'm sure you'll all be happy to know I'm pretty much perma-...............polite way to say ........ interested in this woman at work who does some stuff for the stuff after my team does stuff.

    Difficult to say why.

    EXTREMELY striking. Petite, black/dark brown hair, type more greek than Italian (lol), good nose, all desired teeth appear to be present, reserved, capable.

    Oh well, I forgot what it's like living in a city where every day you pass a hundred of the most beautiful girls just walking to your whereabouts.

    Vive la différence! Les femmes, je vous salue!

  49. #499
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    Actually, I revise the above statement.

    You know, she just looks nice and doesn't seem dumb.

    But, yes, I know (am pretty sure) Ra Tea****ha noticed my look sometime last week...so, since she's kind of one of the gossip queens (yes, I can say that, she is female, as in a full-grown woman as well as a friend, as far as coworkers go who text each other and stuff), I can at least be like "Hey, is she a goer?"

    Although, IME, single mothers who still have strong sexual urges about my age don't usually like being "friend-zoned" by men their own age confessing their prurient interests in others.

    BUT, they know IME what's what.

    No, I'm just going to leave the warehouse talk between me and...here, I guess.

  50. #500
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    Actually I saw something extremely appalling today while waiting until rush hour was over grabbing a beer and watching the Jets game on TV at the bar:

    yeah, maybe it's like seeing a really good, like these girls I was talking about, versus something just plain astonishing.

    WTF? I've been going to this bar almost daily for about sixteen months, and WTF is this mountain man just stalking behind the bar, delivering shit and whatever?

    I'm not a small man, but I was fucking frightened: dude was like 6'9" and probably 300 lbs.

    I mean, he wasn't a bouncer, he wasn't the retired NFL player owner, but fucking shit.

    How often do you ever say to yourself, "That's not a man, that's a mountain, or what the fuck is that?"

    Like seeing Mongo (Alex Karras) from Blazing Saddles IRL.

    I'll ask tomorrow after an extra morning shift at work, but it's not often I see somebody who's like "WTF is that thing???!!!"

    Christ.

    At least the girls who really hit me with the thunderbolt (second gratuitous GF reference in two posts) are not terrifying.

    Yeah, I've seen football players IRL at campuses, but these people are fucking freaks of nature!!!!!

    That's why all the barstools in every place ever are broken!

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