Just The Poop Tube

I know most people don't find Tim and Eric that funny. I don't either. But this little gem of a sketch is about as good as they get in the humor department. WARNING: The following is quite juvenile and appeals to the lowest common denominator in the realm of jokedom. Yup, it's about poop. Enjoy!

Just-ice Required

Have a look at this video concerning the case of Corey Maye. I have followed this disturbing travesty of justice through Radley Balko's blog for a few years now. His death sentence has been commuted but this man needs to be exonerated NOW. Both he and Officer Jones are victims of the government's frivolous and failing war on drugs with Jones paying the ultimate price. When will this shit stop?

Just A Position

I am your company's lone IT guy. I am your friend. In fact, I can be the best friend you have. I am generally a happy spirit. I'll laugh at your jokes and you don't even have to laugh at mine as I know they are rather corny at times. I'll fix what needs fixing in your world. If I am not in the midst of a major crisis or helping another colleague, I will drop whatever it is I am doing and help you with your problem. All I ask is one simple thing. Be honest with me. Don't lie about how your machine has reached the state it has. It is best to tell me up front so I know how to approach the problem. It is also best because I am going to find out anyway. And if I find out you are doing something that you know you are not supposed to do AND you lied to me about it, then you go on my shit list. Being on an IT person's shit list is something you DO NOT want to happen. Look, I realize that people need to have their super cute fuzzy bunny screen saver complete with malware loaded on their machines. I get it. But after you've been told of the dangers and that it creates work for me and you still do it? I have no sympathy for you when you lose data. And no, I do not do a company-wide backup of data every 5 minutes. You are shit out of luck.

So, you've surfed to a free pr0n site and now you're loaded down with trojans and spyware, making it virtually impossible to get any work done. Mother fucker, tell me where you've gone! I don't care for pr0n and it IS against company policy but I am not a fucking babysitter or the morality police. Unless your boss tells me to keep an eye on you, I couldn't care less that you go to those Japanese scat sites searching for pictures of young girls in sailor suits with their diarrhea exploding in the faces well-dressed Tokyo businessmen. But I know your boss does. Word to the wise (as if the wise would be looking at such fare) . . . it's generally not a good idea. What I care about is you fucking up your machine. And yes, I have this place button up tighter than Jerry Falwell's asshole. I have taken all of the precautions necessary to keep us all safe from viruses and all the other lovely surprises that can come off the internets and wreak havoc upon a corporate network. But there is one key ingredient to ensure that things don't go in the shitter for us . . . your paying attention to common sense, company policy and my advice. No LAN anywhere on God's green earth is 100% protected from the douche-baggery of the interweb evils.

I am not the tyrant you think I am. In fact, if you chose to listen to anything I said to you when you first started working here, you would know that you can get away with practically anything here as long as you tell me the truth! If you had listened, you would have heard me tell you how my philosophy on life is live and let live and that philosophy is practiced in my work life as well as my free time (such as it is) and home life. The ONLY time you'll get me snooping in your business is when your boss tells me to, and even then there has to be a good reason or I will refuse to do it OR you keep fucking with my job and making more work for me by being stupid.

Look, it's not that hard. Do your job. Have fun while doing it. Abide by the very few rules laid out before you.

Yup, I can be the best friend you have here. If you'll only let me.

Just A Turn For The Better

Children give us such joy. A dear friend reminded me of that today. I have felt a lot of dark pressure lately to go along with my usual leftover teen angst. Yeah, it's lasted THAT long.

A smile, a scribble, a laugh . . . a cry. These are the little things that save me from the little deaths that press in upon me every day of my life. Small hands upon my face as I come to the realization that they are there and have been for some time. Like a natural part of me. A little body snuggled in close to my chest as I feel my heartbeat sync with theirs. It is intoxicating when you let it take you away. They love us unconditionally; a constant reminder of how we should treat one another in the adult world. And when we slip and fall and treat them as adults, we need to step back and realize what we are doing. Making them grow up before they need to. The time for worry of things in the grown-up world will claim them soon enough. For now, they need to be treated with the love and attention a child craves from their parents. They understand little else when it comes to relating to the world around them. The paternal affirmation and affection.

Thank the Lord for their example. We need to pay heed.

Just Indifference

That's what I'm calling it and I don't care what anyone else thinks about that. Day after day, I find myself disappointed over the most inane crap anyone could ever imagine . . . yet it's not the imagination of anyone. It really happens and there isn't a damned thing I can do about it. Are my perceived negative reactions just a mask for my egomaniacism? Or am I such an anal-retentive perfectionist for whom there is no way to be completely satisfied with the acts, deeds and words of those around me. I could not say as I am not qualified. And even if I was, no one is able to be so completely objective about themselves that the truth of the inner workings of their mind will be brought out in the open for them to see it. It. Whatever 'it' is. The thing or 'things' that makes one 'go'. I have never been able to put my finger on that for me. I fear I am too manic of a person. Flittering about from emotion to emotion like a butterfly from flower to flower . . . or like a bee? There is not telling for or with me. I am too enigmatic even unto myself. No . . . I cannot lie to myself, no one can in the true sense of the word. But I may 'hide' the truth myself . . . leaving the wonder and confusion behind.

My life has been like this for as long as I can remember. A chaotic dance of information, luck and expertise. And misfortune . . . but not nearly as much as there could be. I suppose that is probably the case with most people. The question I have is . . . is everyone like me? Do they have the same thoughts as I do, yet deal with them on a different level? Or do they feign indifference to the negativity about them, allowing the incidents to pass them by without so much as a tarried thought? I am too busy in my mind to do this. And I wish I could. My life would probably not have as much chaos in it. Indifference to indifference then. A soothing prospect to a humbled soul that travels along much the same path as those neighboring his. He just wants to be in harmony with those . . . even if he does not agree with their path.

Just Remembrance

I don't think you ever knew that I loved you as a brother while you were here on earth. Now that you have gone onto eternity, it is a comfort to know that you are aware of how I feel. I feel badly for how we treated each other during the years we shared that house with my brother. But we were living in a drug and alcohol fueled haze. I have to say that while transgressions were committed on both sides, I know in my heart I was by far the worst offender. I wish I had the courage to tell you all of the things I wanted to tell you. To ask you for your forgiveness. To tell you that I loved you. And after we had the 'big fight' , I had hoped we would one day reconcile and at least share a fond memory or two and move on with our lives. But that was not to be.

When I found you had passed from the cancer we all thought you had beaten, I almost drove off the road. A mutual friend's mother had told me of the news as I called looking for him. She assumed that I knew of your death. She must have felt badly as I sobbed like a baby over the phone. The tears flowed for hours and I believe the only thing that stopped them was talking to our good friend. You see, he had dealt with your passing some 6 years previous whereas for me, you had just died. I found some comfort in his words but I knew I would always carry the burden of not having been able to tell you how I really felt before it was too late.

It was my fucking pride that prevented it, dear friend. I know this as surely as I know the sun will rise in the East tomorrow. I know where you are, you are at peace and can see my suffering. I also know you would tell me it's cool if you could. For now, I will just have to rely on faith.

I dream of you often and have since the 'big fight'. In the dreams, there is usually a common theme. I ask for your forgiveness. Nine times out of ten, you give it to me. Every once in awhile you don't or at least that is the impression given. And I am always saddened by that. Sure it's silly as I know you did not take any negative attachments with you to the other side . . . but I'm still here. And I'm human. And I don't think that part of me will ever heal all of the way. Which I am taking as a good thing. The open wound is a reminder to let things go as needed for you never know when someone you love and care about will shuffle off this mortal coil, never to be heard from until you pass on into the next . . .

I love you. I miss you and I know we will meet again, dear friend.

Cheers.

Just Some Resentment

If you were working for me, I'd have fired you a long time ago. Lucky for you. And unlucky for the rest of us. Oh, you're a nice enough guy. You do damned good work, when you actually make it to work. Your problem is that you falsify your time card. Everyone knows it and has known it for years. YEARS! It is only within the last 1/4 year that concrete evidence has been gathered that you are, indeed, stealing from the company. And make no mistake, stealing is what you are doing. Tabulating hours on your time sheet that you did not work is no different than walking into the finance department and taking money out of petty cash. It's the same fucking thing. And it's a pretty damned douche-baggy thing to do.

There many reasons to resent you that stem from this. The people you work closely with resent you because you aren't at work during critical times to fulfill your role, leaving them to scramble and do the work they have to do as well as yours. Then there's the whole resentment from your co-workers thinking you are getting preferential treatment when they know your mutual boss KNOWS you are being a douche bag by your thievery and allowing you to stay on. There are those who resent you for slapping them in the face with your actions because of the kindness they have shown you in the past. When you were facing a severe family crisis and had no vacation hours, many of your friends and co-workers (myself included) donated to you some of our hard-earned time off so you could get along with what you had to do. But I guess it wasn't enough. But fuck all that shit. That's not why I resent you.

I resent you because I have to spend almost two hours every week this year of 2008 acting like Big Brother. A prospect I have feared my entire career because of some of the nature of what I do has a security aspect to it. I have remained, for the most part, unscathed by this dubious distinction. No longer. I feel like shit every time I have to pull up your keycard data. I feel like shit every time I go into your profile and pull up your time cards. I feel like shit every time I troll through the security camera video, watching for your vehicle to enter and egress the facility. And I feel like major shit after I have cross-referenced all of this data and realize what a goddamned thief you are. What the fuck is wrong with you? You KNOW I am watching you and yet you continue to steal time! Do you think you won't get caught? You've already been told you have been caught! That's what I don't understand, dude. You've been given chance after chance after chance and you STILL keep it up! You may as well whip out your pecker and piss in our faces. You'd probably get a better reaction from that.

It doesn't matter to me that your boss won't do anything about it until the point of no forgiveness has been reached. I achieved a relative peace toward the situation a while back. I am not he. As I said previously, if I were him, I would have kicked your sorry ass out the fucking door a long time ago as I feel that point was breached two years previous. Your actions have caused disharmony among those you work with for far too long, not to mention the embezzlement angle. Be thankful your boss is more forgiving than I but I must tell you . . . even he is getting fed up with your bullshit. The writing is on the wall and has been shown to you on numerous occasions. I believe that if you don't take heed this time around and do what that writing says, you will be looking for another job. And no one will be sad when you are gone. The person we grew to care for left the building years ago.

Just Charlene

This is my blog. There are many like it but this one is mine. My blog is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my blog is useless. Without my blog I am useless. I must write my blog true. I must write better than other bloggers, who are trying to better me. I must write about him before he writes about me. I will. Before God I swear this creed: my blog and myself are defenders of my intellect, we are the masters of the blogosphere, we are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there are no other worthy bloggers, but pr0n advertisements. Amen.

OK, maybe not.

Just Monday Dribbling

The week is upon us all. The weekend and it's happenings have passed, leaving only the week ahead and it's potentials lying before us. The potentials for good and bad. I have had much to ponder on the bad side from last week. The great comfort I receive from learning of various tragedies in friends lives are the fact that mine seem so minuscule compared to theirs. And they are. I also know that our own tragedies are hard for us to bear at times . . . they are important because they affect us as adversely just as they are able to affect us positively when put side by side with the problems of others. Compare financial woes that are remedied by just being patient and rational with having to face your own death. It's not even close. Compare having car troubles with having to stay with your mom during the final weeks of her life, watching her die from cancer. Not even close. I am taking these bits of news that I have been receiving over the course of the last few weeks and realizing that it is important for me to take stock of my 'sufferings' and do penance by them. I have so much to be thankful for . . . and yet I am looking at myself at times as though I am the world's most tragic figure. Which is thoroughly laughable.

I am in love with all of my friends to some degree or the other and my heart is breaking for a number of them currently. But I have no time for a broken heart for myself. My heart is strong and has plenty of places to crack with the sadness of others . . . and for others. My feelings are only a part of what I owe them and to the whole of humanity. For my allotment of tragedy has been very small in my 42 years . . . and for this I am truly thankful to God. I just pray that the latter part of my life is not filled with it. I fear I am ill-equipped to deal with it. But I will do as I must. As others must . . . and do.

Just Some Scribblings

So how's this for consistency? It's only been about 3 weeks since my first entry. Fuck it. I'm not being paid to do this . . . in money anyway. But in other intangible tenders? That remains to be seen. But knowing the intangibles can turn into tangibles alone should be enough to motivate me into moving forward with this.

The concept of liberty has been on my mind as of late. And just how little or how much we actually have in this country. I read a lot about injustice and what is being done to combat it. I read a lot about how things are digressing here . . . and it depresses me. I try and stay away from reading and commenting on these things as they are not good for my blood pressure . . . but I find it difficult to remain oblivious and silent to what is going on around me. I almost wish for the this wonderful interthingy to go away. But it can't. The genie is out of the bottle and forever it's power is among us. Hopefully the power pertaining to good will outweigh it's potential for evils. The balance must be maintained. As with all things. I must hope that the checks and balances, in their natural order, are out there. Self-policing the whirlwind of opinion that makes up the web. A vast wasteland? To be certain. But even a desert has it's stark beauty.

Something has changed within me and my way of thinking. It is good. I can feel it coursing through my veins as if it were fine vintage warming me throughout. It is not intoxicating, however, it is helping me see things with more clarity. My journey continues and is all the more exciting as I contemplate my philosophies. I have been able to be truly me, for better or for worse in the last few years. No longer clinging to the branch in the stream that kept me from going toward the torrent of free thought. No longer content to be . . . content. The rebel that lay dormant for so long hath been awakened. For I see with my own eyes, uncluttered by the fantasy of what others would have me believe. My life was full of the life of others. Their opinions. Their beliefs. Their mental impoverishments . . . and wisdom. the latter I take with me on my continuance of this life. The chaff I leave behind to enrich those who would be so by it.

I love liberty.

Just Some Ramblings To Start With

So who the fuck am I? Shouldn't be too hard to figure out if you're adept at using Google. Not that you'd care. Not that I'd care.

So why start blogging again? I miss writing. I generally feel my best when I am writing so I guess it's time to get back on the horse. Not THAT horse. Not that I was ever on it.

If you know me, you know who I am and what I am all about. I am not prepared to divulge who I am to those who don't know me at this time here. But as I said, if you really cared, then you could find out. My web footprint ain't gigantic, but it's there for the finding if'n you want.

So back to this writing thing. I have always been quite enamored with the muse and I intend to listen to (and act upon) her soft sultry voice, enticing me back to what my soul needs ever so badly. What will be found here as I move forward on my blogger's journey? A bit of this and a bit of that. Possibly some politics, but not too much. I hate politics as most politicians tend to be full of shit and I just can't abide people like that in my sphere of influence. Why should I seek them out and get involved emotionally? Because that's what happens to me (and I'm guessing most people) . I get pissed about things that are absolutely out of my control. And I don't need any extra aggravation in my life. I have ready-made potential crisis's throughout my life without involving myself in stuff like politics. In the end, the fuckers ALWAYS let you down.

Rants are something I expect will be published here. I am also a sports fanatic. I enjoy just about every sport out there and will opine on the subject when the mood strikes me. I think that most of all, I want to engage my writing skills so they do not rust over and become non-existent by the time I start writing that novel I have been dreaming of since I was a teenager. Sure, everyone wants to be a writer nowadays. And everyone can. But should everyone? Should I? I hope to answer those questions and many more over the coming years right here. But anyhoo, whatever I write here SHOULD be entertaining. Your mileage may vary.

I also used to write at a blog called 600 seconds which no one seems to be writing for any longer. Perhaps I start doing that again as well to flex some more. Besides, that was fun.

So yep, this certainly was a rambling post to start with.