Tag Archives: prostitution

Just another Boss in the Wall

facelessPoems, everyone. The laddie fancies himself a poet! (Yes, see? I took some song lyrics and changed exactly four words. A poet I be.)
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Satan’s Game – For the Horde!

Santiaga. The dangerous and sick alter ego of a person running for elected office.

Maine’s World!! Maine’s World!! Party on!! Excellent!!

Now this is when it gets interesting. … kerchunk … kerchunk …

The GOP found out that a Democratic candidate for elected office in Maine played a little computer game known as World of Warcraft (WoW).

It wasn’t something the candidate ever tried to hide.

How did the Maine Republican Party respond? By launching a website that seeks to portray the candidate as some kind of a sick freak. They tried to portray her in-game character as a dangerous real life (RL) thing.

Ominous. She’s a level 85 Orc Rogue that specializes in “assassination.” And she likes to stab things! Is that what we need in Maine politics? In the online game she gets away with “crude, vicious and violent” comments.

Maine needs a State Senator that lives in the real world, not in Colleen’s fantasy world.
–Maine Republican Party website

Yeah! I mean why the hell can’t she go out and just get a mistress like a real Maine politician??? Zumba is was more RL than the sick fantasy of WoW, right?

As always, this got me to thinking. What games have you ever played, you sick freaks???
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Hot air from the boss bag

HDR Hot Air Balloon

The boss addressing his employees.

For first time readers of this blog, I’ll start by saying this:

An an employee* my #1 goal every single work day is to keep my mouth shut. And, of course, I miserably fail at this. Every single day.

*Also acceptable here: whore/prostitute (if you accept the definition of employee as one forced to get fucked in exchange for money).

The reason? Attempting to communicate at work doesn’t turn out well. There are two (and only two) possible outcomes. You’ll be interrupted and forcibly and proactively ignored. Or, by wild chance, if you do get listened to, you’ll be told you’re wrong. Usually it’s a combination of both.

By the way, being forcibly ignored is a remarkable treat. But they make the improbable seem so easy.

And yet, as I indicated, I fail miserably at this. It works like this. Even though the previous day sucked, I wake up early ever morning and without an alarm clock. I wake up in a good mood and I wake easily. I roll out of bed and I’m good to go. I talk to the cats and I get on the computer. On most days (like now) I haven’t planned ahead and have to come up with an idea and pound out a blog post. (That along with a dearth of writing skill is how I meet my goal of mediocrity.)

As time runs out the pressure to get ready for work increases. Mornings before work are like riding in a DeLorean at 88 miles per hour. As ol’ Doc Brown put it, “it’s some serious shit.” Work gets closer and my breathing shallows out. Soon I’m gulping for air like a fish. I feel queasy. My back goes out. I get the urge to vomit. But there’s no time to dwell on these pleasantries. I have to rush like my hair is on fire to get to a place that I fucking hate.

Fight ClubIn the door at work, I repeat to myself again and again, “Keep my mouth shut.”

Generally the boss and coworker completely ignore my presence. They’ve learned through osmosis that greeting me in the morning is decidedly not a Good Thing. But if human interaction is thrust upon me, I’ll grunt “morning” and be done with it. (Never precede that greeting with the word “good.” It’s a badge of honor for me to only use the one-word greeting.)

The coworker loves to talk. She’ll tell stories in amazing detail. A morass of minutia about people you don’t know and never care about. No doubt she has never heard of Reader’s Digest because her stories are the exact opposite. Sure, I try to keep up appearances and be nice by pretending to listen, but the truth is her stories bore me to tears. Most of her stories end with the boss and myself oddly in unison by turning our backs on her and interacting with our computers.

Even though I try hard, each day I’ll usually get sucked into some office discussion. These are rather amazing things and can cover a whole gamut of topics. Since the boss and the coworker communicate almost exclusively through interruption  I generally keep my mouth shut. Sometimes, though, they’ll stop to breath and I’ll get to talk a bit.

What I’ve noticed is that the boss disagrees with everything I say. Over time this has led me to the impression that he thinks I’m quite the moron. As usual, the feeling is mutual.

One thing I enjoy is taking limited information and pondering what might be possible. For example, on Monday morning a week ago I put forth the notion that Pakistan must have known about Osama Bin Laden being in their midst. The details from the U.S. raid were still coming in, but based on the “facts” that had been reported so far, I reasoned someone must have known. Plausible deniability is just too damn easy to establish. That’s what makes it so popular. Facts I considered included the fact that the fortress appeared to have been built custom for Osama. Also, I don’t care who you are, human beings don’t keep secrets. Eventually it gets out, either due to self-importance or inebriation and what not. Secrets are like water in that they are relentless and wear down no matter what. Someone knew, at least some neighbors and people in the town, and probably officials in the town and higher up.

The boss, of course, responded by taking a position diametrically opposed to what I was saying. Naturally. That’s what he always does. He must really have a low opinion of me to disagree with so much of what I have to say. That hasn’t gone unnoticed. And yet, when I go out on a limb, my conjectures are more often that not born out.

The New York Times had this to say on Sunday:

The United States government is demanding to know whether, and to what extent, Pakistani government, intelligence or military officials were complicit in hiding Bin Laden. (New York Times: U.S. Raises Pressure on Pakistan in Raid’s Wake.)

That doesn’t prove I was right, but it does show my conjecture wasn’t that far out there, either.

Fight ClubIn closing, my advice here is simple: Believe in yourself. Be open-minded and accepting of facts, and always willing to evaluate them to see how they fit within your beliefs and world view. If facts truly challenge what you think, be open to that and willing to revise your opinions if necessary. At the same time, though, think critically and trust your conclusions. When you feel you are right, don’t allow others the luxury of putting you down, saying you’re wrong, or trying to make you doubt yourself.

By the end of the week, the boss came to me and changed his tune. He admitted that he was starting to agree with what I had said the day following the raid. He’s done that on a few things now. Even better, a lot of shit he says, work-related and otherwise, turns out to be pure horse cookies, and that always makes me laugh my ass off. I’m smart enough to be smarter than most people I work for, but not smart enough to avoid working for them in the first place. That is my lot in life.

None of these discussions have anything to do with work. But the work-related ones go down in just about the same way. Personally I could do without both varieties. Nothing good ever comes of either.

Keeping my mouth shut at work will continue to be my goal.

Bloggy Block and Feeling Super

Bloggy Block

Hello blankity-blank blank “add new post” function. You sure look blank.

How are you?

Me? Oh, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.

[blank stare]

So yeah, here I am, about 22 hours behind on posting, and I got nothing. Nothing! Argh.

Oh, I got me some words. I always have lots of those. I just pumped out 1,000 of them into what might as well have been a bit bucket. They are words but they are not useable words.

It has been a rough week. I feel like death warmed over. Can’t sleep and can’t breathe. Try it, you’ll like it. I think you will find it to be an effective combination.

Hopefully my posts of late have made it clear how I feel. Bad. Dark. Grim. Negative.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel better. Oops. A hopeful thought.

Feeling Super

In case you missed it, there was a wee bit o’ the snafu at this year’s Super Bowl. Yeah, something to cheer about!

First, how does a city get selected to host a Super Bowl?

Officially, there is a bidding process. Cities place bids and are evaluated on factors like “stadium renovation” and “the ability to host.” Traditionally cities must also currently be home to an NFL franchise. NFL owners then meet and make their selection.

Unofficially? Well, there is a lot of scrilla on the line. So there is probably a lot of “lobbying” involved. And by “lobbying” I mean, of course, bribes and prostitutes. (Coincidentally the name of my upcoming album.)

A prime consideration is no doubt seating capacity. The NFL wants lots of seats and lots of asses in those seats. Jerry Jones, the owner of the Dallas Cowboys, was especially excited by this:

I think we’ve got a good chance to break the record without counting anything outside. The stadium is certified for 111,700. When we built this stadium, I had in mind being able to reach those kinds of numbers.

–Jerry Jones, prior to Super Bowl XLV

Any crowd that consists of 11.2% of a million people is one I want to avoid. But suffice it to say that the ability to have seats is a prime factor of being selected as a host city.

The Cowboys did lead the NFL in the 2011 season with average attendance of 87,047 per game. But that’s a far cry from 111,700. How in the world would they get there?

Temporary seating.

Oooh, goodie! A ticket to the Super Bowl and it is in one of Jerry Jones’ temporary seats. What an exciting win-win!

Jerry Jones guano

As I live-blogged on Twitter prior to kick off on game day:

“Breaking news: Super Bowl overbooked. Not enough plastic lawn chairs for all fans. Some will be bumped to the next flight. #nfl #fail”

The Cowboys – and not the NFL as is traditional – hired contractors to install the temporary seats. The City of Arlington was faced with the responsibility of enforcing building codes to ensure public safety. And not just going along with what crybaby Jerry Jones wanted.

By game time the proper decision was made. Not all fans with tickets would be allowed into the game because the seating wasn’t ready.

The Super Bowl had been overbooked.

It has been reported that the NFL knew of the problem as early as December 2010 but didn’t take action. Tickets were still allowed to be sold based on the inflated seat count. Fans were kept uninformed. Fans who made travel plans and arrangements. Fans that spent money to be part of the “NFL experience.” Presumably, in order to get the full “NFL experience,” many of those fans must have resorted to beating their women, shooting up bars, and destroying hotel rooms. That’s probably the best way for average folks to the full NFL “experience.” That and a jail stay.

I listened carefully but I never heard one hint of the fiasco from FOX Sports, the broadcaster of Super Bowl XLV. Apparently they didn’t want to make waves with the NFL. Other news media didn’t hold back, though.

The NFL offered displaced fans a refund equal to three times the printed ticket price and the opportunity to watch the game on television with a seven-second broadcasting delay. Compensation offered to fans did not, however, include travel expenses.

The NFL claimed that 850 of 1,250 displaced fans were seated in comparable or better seats. But some in that group of 850 have disputed that claim.

Some angry fans have responded by launching web sites like www.displacedfans45.com and SuperBowlSuit.com.

I love the smell of negativity in the morning! Invigorating! Perhaps I’ll be feeling better soon after all!

How about you? Had you heard about the Super Bowl Seating Crisis or no?

Craigslist spaceport

You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious.

Warning: This most may contain offensive themes and content. But nothing that Craigslist wouldn’t allow, I assure you of that.

I never paid much attention to craigslist. Oh sure, I heard about it in the news, usually something about the latest scam, or a family being shot dead during a craigslist transaction, or, more often than not, something having to do with a profession even older than craigslist itself. Thank God for craigslist or there would be a lot less prostitution!

Recently I was given reason to get off my duff and go learn more about the mysterious place known as craigslist. Sadly the reason is that the web site is being used to attack my very existence.

First I became aware of a section of craigslist that is called “rants and raves.” Just to enter and look around you have to agree that you’ll be subjected to “offensive content” and that you are at least 18 years of age.

In this section you will find the basest of the base. The very best of the worst that humanity has to offer. Craigslist has some legitimate functions (which are, of course, highly exploited by bad people), but rants and raves is reserved for the creme de la creme of evil. It represents a lowest common denominator of humanity and, trust me on this, there is basically no limit to how low that low can go.

Tonight I did an experiment. I picked a region at random. (Atlanta because it was listed first.) I then went into Atlanta’s “rants and raves” section. The very first thing I saw listed was this: “Coon chokes his 3 yr old.” The content, which I debated reproducing here but simply can’t in good conscience, even in the name of science, was one of the most offensive and disturbing things I’ve ever read. The use of the n-word in the post was just one of the many offenses including a reference to the child’s nose as a “snout,” talking about “KFC (extra crispy)” and much, much more.

And this was literally the very first thing I found on a random dip into craigslist. As such, what can we assume? That this is about average or that I somehow picked the worst of the worst? Something tells me that on craigslist this is nothing that unusual.

One can only wonder. Where does craigslist draw the line?

Like I said, the only reason I’m aware of how this web site works at all is because I came under attack myself. It’s a long story but basically I administer a web site forum and I’ve had to kick people off, from time to time, for repeated violations of the web site rules, one of which is: “Don’t be gigantic douchebag assholes.” That’s pretty much the Prime Directive of our rules.

My experience on this internet forum has taught me one thing quite clearly: Adults do not take kindly to being moderated in any way, shape or form. Just like everyone else they feel the rules to do not apply to them. Ever. If you dare enforce a rule, no matter how well deserved, you just made yourself a rabid enemy for life.

This is where craigslist comes in. Deprived of their voice on a forum, craigslist is their dream come true. Here they can safely remain truly anonymous as they attack real people by name. They have told lies about me, posted my picture, published my home address, called me Adolf Hitler (always a party favorite) and now have even taken up the practice of insulting my wife.

Freedom of speech in our country is a sacred right. But what about freedom of anonymous speech? I figured that must be different, especially when it is being used as a method of attack. I was wrong.

According to the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF), the Supreme Court has ruled repeatedly that the right to anonymous free speech is protected by the First Amendment.

EFF says that this right was even used by our founding fathers, people like Alexander Hamilton and James Madison who wrote under the pseudonym “Publius.”

I tried to file a report with the local police today regarding this campaign against us that has gone on for months now. Their response, paraphrased: “Too bad, so sad.” They said it is nothing illegal and is protected free speech under the First Amendment. They didn’t want to look at my documentation, either, saying it wouldn’t matter.

Thanks to sites like craigslist we can view and experience the true nature of humanity and the universe, and, for an added bonus, take a quick swim in a pool of bile. Now I call that a true win-win!