Geek at the cool table, cool at the geek table. (aspiring2live) wrote,
Geek at the cool table, cool at the geek table.

Random Post-work Post

NOTE: I've decided to no longer post warnings about things I write that may seem graphic (usually about work) or upsetting to some. After all, I have a very small following here, and you all have read my posts long enough to know what you might expect. That said, this is my last warning, though there isn't much here to warn you of anyway.

If I were the type of person to really get angry then I would say grrrrr! Good thing I'm not. I usually get "flash angry" then it is gone, as quick as it started. I think I'm fairly even-keeled. However, I recognize that I do hold grudges, though it isn't something I'm proud of. If you cross me, I can be forgiving, but if it happens again, I'll cut you off so you never have the same opportunity. I consider it self-preservation. You know the old saying: Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. It is much like that. I don't favor giving people repeated opportunities to take advantage of me. For some reason unknown even to me, I needed to say that this morning.

So, got my weekend kicked and now, on to the week (I work weekends, remember, so my work pattern is opposite of most). I might take the family to the airshow this morning, but I'm doubting it. It is fairly expensive and I'm not so sure I would be impressed. I grew up on Air Force Bases, and they really know how to put on an air show! The dinky local airport here? fleh. So, I'm leaning toward some prime sleepage.

Lately, I've taken to visiting a 3D chat room. There is something intriguing about being a cartoon character in a room full of other cartoon characters that represent real people having a conversation. It could be addictive, but I find chat rooms bothersome. Hard to follow a thread if there are more than about three people there. So, it's only a passing interest. Still, I like it. But not.

As long as you are working for the man, he has the power to bring you down. The man has his foot on all our necks. Translation: As long as you work for someone else, someone else has the power to mess with your head, and potentially a lot more than that. There are very few, if any, honest solutions to this situation. At times, dishonesty has an appeal. That's all I'm sayin'.

Due to a little known MOS in the Corps, I am fluent in Morse Code. It serves me no purpose whatsoever now.

Anyone who endorses a global government system must not be getting the same news I'm getting from all those other countries. The barbarians are at every gate people! Snap out of it before it's too late!
...Apathy is a great sound absorber.

One of my enduring, yet closely guarded, fantasy dream jobs is to be a Japanese television celebrity. First I'll be needing to learn Japanese, I'm thinking.

"Johnny English" starring Rowan Atkinson, is probably the dumbest movie I ever nearly peed my pants laughing at. I'm embarrassed to admit that I love the guy in that movie!

I still have a meaty post brewing. I truly haven't had the time and the brainy wherewithal at the same time for long enough to compose it. When I do, I will; and when I have, I'll post. But here's a preview... What if you got so depressed and unhappy that you decided you didn't want to live anymore? And what if you decided the only thing left for you to do was to get a shotgun and blow your brains out? And what if you actually summoned the guts to put a shotgun under your chin and pull the trigger? And what if the next thing you were aware of was being in the hospital with no face? Are your guts wrenched? Teeth clenched? What if your job was to change that dressing? I'll leave you with that for now.
----<Coming soon to a gritty LJ near you!>----

Oooo. Let's finish with a flourish of random poetry, shall we? From a favorite high school reading...

The wound it seemed both sore and sad
To every Christian eye;
And while they swore the dog was mad
They swore the man would die.

But soon a wonder came to light,
That showed the rogues they lied;
The man recovered of the bite,
The dog it was that died.

From "An Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog" by Oliver Goldsmith

Yeah, A. E. Housman would have been a better choice. Peace out.

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