Mutha-pusbucket...

I get a good-sized post together, and M$AIEEEEE eats it! :P

NP: Drowning Pool, "Tear Away"

Since it wouldn't be an entry into my blog without a reference to the cockbite, lemme get that out of the way first. I've found myself testing ancient video cards and performing dissections of old boxen at work, and that means I have access to a net-connected computer to look up various specs and what not. I've been listening to the net.feeds of my favorite SA radio station, which frees me from listening to what I've taken to calling KockBITe-FM Kerrville. This also means I've been getting the net-only commercials as well, which sound indistinguishable from email spam (as two out of the three are ads for Male Climax Helper Du Jour), but I digress.

Cockbite also uses this box to surf during lunch. And he closes all the windows when he's done. One of those windows is the internet radio feed, which only slightly miffs me. So I leave a notepad message kindly asking him not to close the windows I have open when he gets done, telling him I don't mind if he uses this box to surf, basically being a nice guy about it.

Cockbite responds in character:

This is not your computer to mind. If you didn't have so many windows open, I wouldn't have to close them, or the pop-ups.

You handle picking and packing, bucko. I would think that I'm the primary user of this system, even though you and I both know damn well that we're borrowing it from our collective employer.

I installed Pop-Up Stopper today, so that should take away his grounds for bitching. Not that he needs much...

There Must Be Burnination, Nay, KEELHAULING, And It Starts At Disney

Is there some kind of copy protection on the Pirates of the Caribbean DVD that kicks in whenever it detects that the DVD player is plugged in through a RF cable? That's about the only explanation I can come up with after THREE copies of said DVD did the same damn thing when put in my DVD player, and no amount of DVD setting legerdemain could rectify it.

This Needs To Happen:

Thought while watching the UK version of Robot Wars: Get both Mick Foley and UK host Craig Charles (Lister on "Red Dwarf" for those of us not named Martin Leggett nor familiar with that series) to co-host Robot Wars. And for the love of Jaysis, KEEP THE UK PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER!

Until then, enjoy House of Pain and their song "Beef Jerky"...

I've Heard Of Goat Lockers, But This Is Ridiculous

Well, you'd figure a cockbite-free workplace couldn't last, and it didn't. But enough about him.

I got home this fine evening to find that almost every one of our rather modest goat herd (of five) had jumped the fence into the neighbors' property. And so, me and my dad had the solemn task of hooking up the trailer and rounding the little shits up. A task which was complicated by the neighbors' goat kids deciding they wanted to see what was going on, to the point of crawling under the trailer to see.

I also would have been watching Pirates Of The Caribbean, but the DVD we picked up from the grocery store rental counter was, not to mince words here, fucked up.

I'll give you a review as soon as I get a copy that Doesn't Suck.

o/~ I'm rocking the boonies... like Charlie Daniels did / I'm rocking the boonies... except he was talented... o/~

For want of much new material, I'm linking selections from webcomics.

Webcomic Quote of the Indeterminate Time Period (Part The First): "I want to know how this small town barely gots a mall, but it can support fourteen Tim Horton's." -- Robin, It's Walky!

Simply swap Tim Hortons for convenience stores, and that's Kerrville for ya.

WQotITP (Part The Second): "HE IS THE RUINER OF WORLDS!"

Now how bad is it when your mom looks over your shoulder while you're blogging? Granted, she's not the kind to make a habit of it, but I just now found myself in the unenviable position of having to explain the Blog Phenomenon to her.

Moving on, I can't believe that I've pulled out only my second win in my fantasy league. I used to be a frontrunner last year.

o/~ Wastin' away again in Pigskin-Loser-Ville / Searching for my lost shaker of salt / Some people claim that Limbaugh's to blame / But I know... it's that damn Ewok's fault o/~

And in other words, NO COCKBITE AT WORK TODAY!

That's all for now, Blog Nation... and now, performing their classic "The Thing That Should Not Be," here's Metallica!

Huck Fum

NP: Down By Law, "Haircut"

I finally got myself a steady job. It's good money (for Kerrville *spit*), but compared to what I was making, it leaves a little to be desired.

In my past jobs, Randal's Maxim held sway: "This job would be great if it wasn't for the fuckin' customers."

Well, this job in particular would be great if it wasn't for the fuckin' coworkers. Specifically, one coworker in particular. A number of you might laugh and smile that Been There, Done That, Burned The T-Shirt tight-lipped grin, but let me do the PSA on this guy anyway.

You ever have a coworker who has to have things exactly his way?

This guy has to subject us all to his rather dubious musical taste. Any CD I bring in, he rejects out of hand. Even things I believe everyone can enjoy, like Rancid or Metallica, or even Down By Law. If I beat him to the punch and put in one of my CDs, he takes it out and puts in one of his own. Doesn't even wait for it to finish or nothin'.

Granted, some of his selections are not all that bad, but for every FUGAZI~~~~ or AT THE DRIVE-IN~~~~, there's some band I've never heard of (Hot Water Music's "One Step To Slip" is my new Inexplicable Musical Mark while The Pixies I can take or leave), or stuff like Propaghandi (whose politics are waaaaay too... leftist for my taste. "Meat Is Murder"? Who axed you?)

However, this guy is a fhuge Hum fan. You know, the guys who did that "she missed the train to Mars" song? The rest of their music is in that vein. Now, I've got nothing against that band personally, and I think their music is quite fine in small doses.

What really gets my goat is that this cockbite (and yes, I call him that, sometimes even to his face) absolutely INSISTS on playing the same five to six CDs. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

And of those five or six, two of them are every Hum CD released from Downward Is Heavenward onward.

Today, I finally asked him straight up, "could you not play the same CDs every day?"

Cockbite has the unmitigated gall to say "Look who's talking!"

The sheer pot-kettle-blackness of that remark was astonishing.

The other coworker my age (another self-proclaimed "ultra-leftist"), thankfully, does not have the same ass-tastic taste in music (although why he doesn't like 311's Grassroots is beyond my ability to comprehend). Among his collection is Peter Tosh's Equal Rights (old-school reggae, and it's an education to listen to what William Gibson must have been listening to when conceiving some concepts for Neuromancer -- Wintermute calling Molly "Stepping Razor" when communicating to the Rastas being a prime example).

Unfortunately, the times when Cockbite deigns to let him play his stuff are few and far between, and almost always when Cockbite is out of the office.

It's enough to make you throw all his CDs in the microwave for a couple of minutes, just so he will be bothered to bring in some new shit.

The constant station-surfing of my DEPper group on the way to Randolph AFB to catch the Blue Angels seems ambrosial by comparison.

Speaking of which, to that guy who was "raised by wolvs" who filled out the card to get into the Navy Mobile Flight Sim ride and changed the wording on the disclaimer to read "will be used to send you lies and bullshit propaganda designed to brainwash":

If you felt that strongly about the military, then WHAT IN THE NAME OF BILLY MITCHELL'S WANG WERE YOU DOING AT A MILITARY AIRSHOW?

There's at least one Bosun's Mate who has a few choice words for you on that subject. Or better yet, why don't you join and find out first hand what sacrifices people make for the freedoms you enjoy?

Who knows, maybe you'll learn how to spell "wolves".

Quite possibly, Role Model Of The Year, 2K3

No, not Vinegar Boy, Aaron.

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Low
Schizoid:	Low
Schizotypal:	Moderate
Antisocial:	Moderate
Borderline:	Low
Histrionic:	High
Narcissistic:	Moderate
Avoidant:	Moderate
Dependent:	Low
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

Note to Chris: I'll put in to get posted to Everett after A-School, and then I'll kick your ass.

That is, if Pensacola doesn't immediately take me on for the STA-21 program, in which case I'll make you salute me, and then I'll kick your ass. ;)

No, it's not for buying a Dell. After all, friends don't let friends buy Compaq Comcrap.

It's not even for your new title for your link to here. I seriously flirted with the idea of getting an uniform shirt early and stencilling in "Staines" for the nametag, but I figured it was something Navy Recruiting Command would frown upon.

But enough of the Explosion of High Impact for a sec.

In other news, I might just save the Navy the expense of getting me my A+ certification after all. More details as events warrant.

From the Poor Choice Of Words Or Truth In Advertising? Dept.:

There is a church in Kerrville that calls itself the First Condemning Church of Kerrville.

I swear I am not making this up.

Makes you wonder what their services are like, and it's certainly no church I'd like to belong to. I believe that if you have faith, then you should be celebrating it instead of condemning everybody else. And to top it all off, you've all doubtlessly heard the story of the general who had a few choice words about Islam, namely that another holy war is in progress in the Middle East. And to think I might find myself under such a person's command...

My parents have a copy of CS Lewis's The Screwtape Letters, but the quote I'm reminded of comes from the companion piece, Screwtape Proposes A Toast:

"I see, and smell, that even under wartime conditions the [Tempters' Training College] cellar still has a few dozen of sound old vintage Pharisee... You know how this wine is blended? Different type of Pharisee have been harvested, trodden, and fermented together to produce its subtle flavour. Types that were most antagonistic to one another on Earth. Some were all rules and relics and rosaries; others were all drab clothes, long faces, and petty traditional abstinences from wine or cards or the theatre. Both had in common their self-righteousness and the almost infinite distance between their actual outlook and anything [God] is or commands."

Crunchy Juicy Sacrelige -- Muslims, I apologize in advance

Next week: Another rousing round of Where The Fuck Have All The Jobs Gone?

*snickersnickersnicker*

No, let me rephrase that.

BWAH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

There is nothing to lift the soul quite like the Aggies treating a Big 12 conference team like North Texas or some other no-account football school.

Josh is going to be insufferable because he can now say "Top 25 my Oklahoma ass", but the Red River Blowout is becoming quite a spectacle. Of course, seeing t.u. lit up for 55+ points always brings a smile to this Ag's face.

More to follow.

Kerrville. Shit. I can't believe I'm back in fucking Kerrville.

And to think I've hardly said a word to my parents until I said yes to their offer to take me back in.

Everyone gets everything he wants. I wanted to see my family again, and for my sins, I did.

Ok, now that I'm done bastardizing Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now, y'all know that I am back in Kerrville, and it's raining cats and dogs, so I can't get my own comp out to put this into. It is nice to be able to watch football again, for someone who's had to rely on tapes, DVDs, and the ol' computer for my daily bombardments of microwave radiation, but there's a few things that are sticking in my craw already, aside from the obvious.

When It's Bad: You get an impromptu lecture on Ways You Could Be Better Off Spending Your Money from your dad when he finds all the comics you've bought over the years you've been living on your own, even though you haven't bought any comics in several months.

When It's Really Bad: You get cautioned by your dad about your stash of Maxim magazines he uncovered while helping you pack your stuff, for fear of a conniption fit from one's own maternal unit.

When You Begin To Believe That You've Made A Serious Error In Judgement: You get the same maternal conniption fit caution about your anime collection.

Now, don't get me wrong. I've always liked anime, despite what certain people say about me being possessed by the spirit of Nathan Loney. And people who know my anime viewing habits know that I'm not down with the TRM (for the uninitiated, that stands for Tentacle Raping Monsters). But you see, I have this problem. My mom's Religious, with all that comes with it.

And on top of all that, I seem destined for a first-to-worst run in the Jacksux League, for no other reason than no matter who I start, they put out like a convent of orthodox nuns.

Pray for my soul, my brothers and sisters.

Scoping out the blogs, we find my favorite untrustworthy bi--err, bastard (and I ain't talking about the guy I was doing contract work for during my last months in Austin!) is alive, well, and finding disturbing stuff like this.

Dude, this is pretty fucked up, right here.

And this from the incomparable Johnny B.:

"Funny story my brother told me during RAW: He and his she-demon of a wife are at EB looking at Gamecube games. In walks this middle-aged couple who are aruging and talking loudly and acting like goofballs. They approach the clerk and ask if they have any new Gamecube games.

'Well, we have that new Billy Hatcher game,' he says, referring to Billy Hatcher and the Giant Egg.

'Well I always liked fuckin' chickens,' says the guy. Out loud.

Everybody stops. Silence. The wife chastises her man and out they go. The store is dead quiet and the clerk is in shock. Finally, someone speaks up: 'It takes a real man to admit that.'

The motto: People say the darndest things."

Now THAT'S comedy. You can't make this stuff up.

To crib from my good friend (and fellow serviceman these days!) Chris Gates, who cribbed this from David Letterman, so long for now, Blog Nation, and enjoy Smile Empty Soul.

Yup, it's official. I'm elderly.

NP: Guns 'N Roses, "Welcome To The Jungle"

A little something I left out of the last entry...

Sign in front of a church: "Stay In Shape -- Walk Daily With The Lord :-D"

No, your eyes do not deceive you. That sign had an honest-to-God emoticon on it.

NP: System Of A Down, "Inner Vision"

Some observations on the first night of the 2003 Taylor, TX BBQ Cookoff:

- Somebody needs to have the instructions for use of some payphones (you know the ones, with the "$0.25 per minute to anywhere in the US") printed clearer. For a minute, I could've sworn that I had found the one out of every three pay phones that is actually a decoy (to quote a poet on Def Poetry). Let me tell you how that works. The instructions on the phone were the classic "Pick up phone, listen for dial tone, then put your money in and call" routine. So I go ahead and do that. The phone NOW asks me for a bank or credit card number before connecting me with an operator who helpfully tells me that I should put the money in after I dial the number. She then goes on to say that the phone should return my money to me, which the phone most certainly does not. And the gas station guy can't do shit about it because the phone is not owned by the gas station. Go figure.

- "Duck sausage" has absolutely nothing to do with waterfowl.

- According to most college kids in Texas, the belief that Bud or Miller Lite is best poured back into the horse is sufficient grounds for anathematization.

- Seriously, most BBQ cookers are really nice people.

- Stand Of The Night honors go to the Bevo Burners; who, obviously, are Aggies, if the Dixie Chicken and "HOWDY" signs and the 6-foot model of Bonfire (complete with t.u.'s finest frat house, which, for the uninitiated, is a burnt orange outhouse with an Austin city limits sign on it) weren't big enough hints. I felt like I was 22 again. Really good drumsticks there, too.

Stay tuned for more from the full day's festivities.

NP: Rancid, "Listed MIA"

o/~
Goddammit, man, I almost had it
Well, I did it again
Yeah, I do it out of habit
Well, I'm numb, it ain't no fun
I'm less than zero when you add up the sum
I'm checking out, yeah
It ain't no doubt, yeah
A courtship built from anger is what it amounts
I almost had it, I almost had it
I came so close, man
I almost had it
o/~

Just got the last word today.

Their excuse: "We don't feel your background is sufficient to match the needs of this job."

What I heard: "We still hate you and haven't finished dancing on your grave yet. Crawl back into your hole, you fly-infested bucket of crap."

Well, fuck you anyway. I can find work somewhere else, and most certainly for people that don't string you along and break your heart by treating you like this.

Jackasses.

NP: The Refreshments, "Banditos"

The Follies continue, held over for another exciting day.

So I get into work at 8, because that's the time the guy told me to report in at, right? I get there, pick up my temporary badge, and wait, seemingly confident that somebody will be by to pick me up.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, someone finally shows up to escort me further into the bowels of the building, where I find out a few interesting tidbits:

1) The guy I talked to who told me to come by at 8 is out of the office today
2) They still don't have all their ducks in a row
3) They're blaming the bottleneck on the headhunter agency I got this job from

So they send me home. Again.

I head straight home and get on the horn with the account manager at the headhunter's. And I find out that they tried to call me earlier, but when they did I was already on site cooling my heels. According to them, they're now waiting on executive approval from the client to get my badge ID. As a result, my position is "on hold" while they extricate their lettuce from their donkey.

I swear, the Navy is looking better all the time...

Quote of the Day: "I shouldn't have to live in a world where all the good points are horrible ones." -- Black Mage, 8-Bit Theater

Today was supposed to be the first day back among the gainfully employed for God knows how long. I was going to have myself a rich full day and head home, without any major incidents.

If you believe that, you must be new around here.

Right away, I run into trouble. I can't get into the main network because my account was disabled, due to my last leave under less-than-ideal conditions. Which means I can't do jack but sit and watch until they get all their ducks in a row regarding the background check and what not.

So I found myself in possession of a half-day off. Which would be nice, but I'm contract and need this money badly.

Then to top the day off, the debt counseling service I'm with sees fit to tell me they never got any of the money that I paid them. So I dash off to the nearest branch office to get my bank statement to fax to them... but it turns out the lobby's closed. Which necessitates a dash almost clear across town to get the necessary papers and back to where I can fax.

I mean, I had the money taken out of my account, the least you can do is know where the heck it is.

NP: Bass-heavy techno from my upstairs neighbors, who are kind enough to lend me DVDs to watch

Link of the Indeterminate Time Period:

When you know it's time to unplug...

NP: 38 Special, "Back Where You Belong"

And in other news today, my ronin days are drawing to a close.

Although the thought had crossed my mind, I'm not joining the military at this time. I'm not ruling them out either, just in case this falls through.

I don't know what the people I have praying for me told the Good Lord, but He has seen fit to put me back at Dell. Namely, in their internal help desk. It means I'll be red-badging again, but as my friends in the UK point out, it's better than "sweet FA" (and no, the FA does not stand for Football Association).

One hurdle down, more to go.

For you anime fans in the house: My regular group's watching Scrapped Princess, and I will be surprised if one of the upcoming episodes is not titled "Pavane For A Scrapped Princess". This Needs To Happen (tm Bill Simmons).

NP: Rush, "Show Don't Tell"

Iraq in a nutshell...

And a little something to take the taste of politics out of your mouth...

Hot cars, hot babes, hot damn!


I should say something more profound to open this blog with, but you'll have to wait until I'm suffciently rested.