Me? Disgruntled?

Today I had the opportunity to chat with the "top dog" at work. Okay, so I was required to go to her office after I refused to sign a confidentiality form. After a mere ten minutes of chatting with me (a first since she took over here... five months ago) she said, "You sound disgruntled." I wanted to scream "No kidding!" at the top of my lungs, roar with laughter and skip maniacally down the hall. I restrained myself. Barely. She also said that I am clearly a passionate person and they really don't want to lose me. When she said "lose" the context made me think of losing a Jedi to the Dark Side. I wanted so badly to openly announce Transit War, but then I wouldn't be a very effective jihadist, so I remained silent. At one point she tried to tell me I shared blame for the horrible working conditions, because I am a supervisor after all. She reminded me that they have already bought my soul, and finished the coversation with the usual "big changes are coming soon" bit. I feel so much better now, all warm and fuzzy, the company really does care about me. Did I mention that she authorized me to "edit" the compliance form to my liking? Just so long as she had something with my signature by tomorrow, to prove she did her job, then I'll be the regional H.R. Director's problem. I can't wait to meet him.

Temporary reduction to your Intelligence Score

It's like this, if you want to be an Orc then you exchange Intelligence for that extra Strength. If you want to be a Bus Driver you also lose Intelligence. I can prove this. Let's say a scruffy looking, bearded, old guy limps up to the bus you are driving and after staring at the sign that says Oroville for a miunte and a half asks, "Does this bus go to Oroville?" - how do you respond? All you Bus Drivers out there probably said something like, "That's what the sign says.", but a smart person would have said, "No." And now this toothless vagabond is standing on the sidewalk staring at you, patiently waiting for about 1.3 seconds before he snorts out, "Well ain't you gonna drop the lift? Ya watched me gimp up here." That illiterate old fart just insinuated that the Bus Driver is an unobservant cretin, and the rest of the passengers are nodding their agreement. Once the brain-draining deviant is on the bus he will invariably sit in The Stupid Seat. For all you non-Bus Drivers out there, this is the seat closest to the driver, with a full view of the road and everything the driver does, it is the domain of the Intelligence Leech. He will such IQ points as fast as the odometer counts off miles. But this is an exchange, so what do you get in return for the lost Intelligence? Well... Um, I think it had something to do with... aw, shucks. Uh, if I remember, I promise to tell all y'all what it were.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

I don't think my family reads this. If they do, they've never given any indication. So I'm gonna take this opportunity to offend any of them I want to. WARNING: Dirty Laundry is about to be aired. A few of my friends know that my Father is a DIRTBAG. Stinking, Nasty, Reject-of-Humanity DIRTBAG. This weekend a brother got married, my Father was invited, so I did not go.

To my brothers: C'mon guys! Do you really think money equals love? Or gifts equal a sincere apology? He is trying to buy your forgiveness! He is a DIRTBAG. Call me, I have a letter from him that explains how his abuse was really our Mothers fault and he just did it to get a divorce. DIRTBAG.

It crossed my mind to go to my brothers reception. After all, it was going to be at Mother's house and she had promised a Father-free Zone from now until the end-of-time for the abused parties. I just had to avoid the wedding... and the rehearsal dinner... and any other public place he might turn up at. My Mother would be providing some safe space... wait, he was where? Yeah, at the house. Apparently all the safe space anyone should need is the four feet around themselves. Somehow it was determined that as long as my Father didn't walk right up to anyone he could come to all the events, mingle, be around everyone's children, AS LONG AS HE DOESN'T START A CONVERSATION WITH YOU, YOU SHOULD BE OKAY WITH THIS DIRTBAG SKIPPING AROUND LIKE A MAGICAL-GIFT-FAIRY HANDING OUT CASH AND PRESENTS LIKE GRANDMA GIVES OUT HUGS! -deep breath- -again-
Though I have to say, I'd rather have a gift than a hug... affectionate physical contact with a pedophile would really freak me out.

Borrring!

You know why movies are so great? All the dull parts are cut out. You only wait in the doctors office if you meet someone that will be important later. The only time you sit and do nothing is to build suspense or create emotional depth. Weeks, months, even years go by in the space of a few hours, because in real life there just aren't that many exciting moments.
So... Not much going on here. Some fun stuff in the works though. If I can just get past the boredom.

Fighting Fire with Fire

So, I was wandering around the Web the other day when I stumbled across this site. They claim to fight spam by giving the 'bots hoards of invalid e-mail addresses. I find this to be a glorious idea. Did you know, in countries with no copyright laws it is common for manufacturers to include viruses with their software? If you pirate software and give an invalid user key you don't just miss out on a few updates, you activate a little piece of evil (some will rearrange and rename files, others will write over the boot sector of your hard drive). And how do the authorities feel about the complaints received from "consumers"... well, you stole from them first. Now, if I could just think of someone I loathed enough to devote my precious time and energy to fighting... oh, yeah...
Long Live Transit War!