Dimensions

Jamie Lynn Spears is an idiot!

2007-12-20T14:50:00.000-07:00

I can't believe this girl is pregnant. Or can I? Her big sister totally ruined her own life, and now Jamie is doing the same thing. Other than making me want to puke, one thing bugging the hell out of me is the fact that she's 16 years old! Her boyfriend is a legal adult and should be thrown in jail for raping this child. Who's to blame? The older slut sister who is fat and really ugly now? Her former back up dance, husband, loser? Those two little kids who will never be right? Ever. Lynn Spears, the matriarch, who keeps cashing in on her daughters?

What does all of this publicity say to our children about screwing each other without condoms whenever they want? What does it tell our young girls about what's important in this world? This friggin' story was on CNN for Christsake. They gotta just go all Ellsworth Toohey on this family and drop them off the face of the planet! This pisses me off.

Lady ain't got a clue

2007-12-13T05:23:00.000-07:00

I got this lady at work who doesn't do shit. I am her supervisor and all she does when I make her work on something is complain and not do it. I've been putting up with this for about two years now. At the end of last year this came to a head and I met with her, but now it's getting really annoying. She was suppose to do a half an hour worth of work the other day, and all she wanted to do was bitch that she was too damn busy. We're all busy this time of the year! I have a guy working on the same project who I am sure has put in over 6 hours, but she can't be bothered. Not at all. I am told my boss that unless this lady is moved to a different project next fiscal year, that I will step down. I am done with her. I bet this lack of motivation will show up on her review and she's not tenured for another year. I bet she thinks she will be locked in come summer, but she was hired in the middle of the year. I hope they do something about this.

I want more support with this!

2007-11-27T19:05:00.000-07:00

I wrote about a guy at work who called me an asshole in front of a bunch of my colleagues, and we still haven't resolved this. I am getting annoyed. My admin friend promised to mediate a meeting so we could come to some agreement on how to deal with each other, but that's not happened. One time an appointment wasn't made, so I didn't know which day to show up. Not my fault. This is why our system makes appointments! So I got her to reschedule for today, and she didn't show! Neither did he. I am annoyed. They obviously both knew we weren't meeting today, and no one told me. This pisses me off. I want this resolved. If she won't meet with me, then I will go to my union and get the rep to meet with us. I wanted to handle this quietly and quickly, and it's being drawn out. Pisses me off. Good leaders need to either be where they say they will be, and/or cancel appointments they can't make.

Victoria Secret's Models are Hot

2007-11-10T21:57:00.001-07:00

In the local town, they just opened a new outdoor mall where there's a Victoria Secret's superstore. The picture here has caused lots of controversy, and it's been in the newspaper. Part of me really wants to be conflicted about this, and keep in my mind I do have a daughter, but you know what? All I am is pissed off about the whole damn thing. Even though controversy keeps the world rolling (remember OJ?), it gets boring. I could care less about this image, and I remember people freaked when some local church had a billboard of two people in bed together with their naked legs and feet sticking out. Of course it was a man and woman (God forbid, they be man and man or woman and woman), so who the hell cares?

I sure don't. I walked by this store today with a friend and clicked off this picture. You know what? The girls look good. Awesome. Something fun to look at while I am walking around. Sure, I got a daughter. Yes, some day she may choose to dress like these models. But you know what it really comes down to? It comes down to morals and upbringing. I am going to bringing my daughter up as someone who respects herself. And I am going to educate my daughter. And then I am going to let her make her own mature, adult decisions.

When I got home, I read an editorial lambasting Victoria Secrets and demanding the huge signs be removed. When I got to the bottom I was surprised the writer was someone I know. He is a Mormon man with male children. Why can't he just enjoy the image and teach his boys about the beauty of the God-given female body? Perhaps he thinks they will be tempted, not go on their missions, and embarrass him at the temple (I think that's the word for it.). Go sit in your temple, read your LDS (supposed) script, and leave me with my camera and billboards.

He's an idiot

2007-11-01T13:46:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna complain here. I got a guy at work who I've mostly always respected and liked. Last month I didn't say hello to him and he got mad at me, which really upset me. The other day I said hello to him, and he got mad at me. We were sitting at a lunch table and he called me an "asshole". In front of everyone. I was really pissed off, I jumped up, told him what I thought of him and stormed from the room.

This guy has done this to other people in the past. And you know what? I am not going to take this. I am not his pansy, and I will not sit down and let him walk all over me. He's insecure so he needs to be a bully with people. For some reason I am his latest scapegoat, and that sucks. I am fighting back. I already checked with HR about submitting a formal complaint, and I can. Ha. I bet he'd love that. Tomorrow I hope to sit down with a mediator and tell him what I think.

Miracles upon Miracles

2007-11-01T13:38:00.001-07:00

I can't believe I'm back here, but here I am. Looks like my last post was a year ago. Google now owns Blogger and I bought the shirt. Oh I don't know what to say here. I went back to find my blog, and after awhile I remembered my ID finally. Google asked me to update my information and to log in with my current Google ID and and password. I sat for several minutes and considered adding this blog to my current, official Google ID, and finally in the last seconds, I chickened out.

See I don't think my job would like me writing about some of what I write here. Some of it they could care less about, but I sure don't want to end up in my bosses office. Am I a chicken? Who knows? I care about my job security. Yep, I do.

Will I keep this here? Will I write more? I know I've lost all of my readers years ago. Damnit. Ok, I am ok with that. I like to bitch here about whatever I want do here. So I do it.

Airport To Tag Passengers With RFID

2006-10-15T22:01:00.000-07:00

According to an article entitled Airport To Tag Passengers With RFID, passengers at airports internationally will be forced to wear cattle collars while in the airport. What for? To track consumerism? To confirm nefarious activities aren't afoot? Who knows, but damn, that's friggin' Orwellian for me. Then we have the USA who wants to create this National ID card, and why don't they just stick the little micrchip in my forehead, like the book of Revelation said would happen over 4,000 years ago? Now I realize that Canada has a national health insurance program and several people find this effective in our country, and I know that I'd have to deal with less damn illegals if they had to show some ID when shopping at my stores, stealing my jobs, and not speaking our national God given language.

Principal Sues over MySpace

2006-10-15T21:56:00.000-07:00

Ok, a couple things here. So a principal sues parents over the kids making a MySpace account based on their assistant principal's suppose sexual orientation. There are so many things wrong with this.

First of all, MySpace sucks and I hate it. I have one, but it's so I can spy on people. That's it. The ads override everything else, and it's so hard to use.

Second of all, school employees shouldn't be able to sue parents over their kids actions.

Third of all, the parents should know what the hell their kids are doing and when they're doing it. In our schools throughout the country, when teachers call parents to complain about some assinine thing the kids did, it turns out the parents themselves are just as idiotic.

Teachers should carry gun

2006-10-11T21:05:00.000-07:00

If all the teachers in our country were permitted to carry guns, I think this place would be safer. I knew a truant officer who would carry a concealed weapon on her. Of course guns weren't allowed in schools, but she never showed anyone. She just carried it and let the consequences lay where they may. That's it. Give us guns. Do it.

2006-10-11T21:02:00.000-07:00

US Passports in France

At a French airport ...

A group of American retired teachers recently went to France on a tour.

Robert Whiting, an elderly gentleman of 83, was part of the tour group. At French Customs, he took a few minutes to locate his passport in his carry on bag.

"You have been to France before, monsieur?" the customs officer asked sarcastically. Mr. Whiting admitted he had been to France previously.

"Then you should know enough to have your passport ready."

The American said, "The last time I was here, I didn't have to show it."

"Impossible!" barked the officer. "Americans always have to show your passports on arrival in France."

The American senior gave the Frenchman a long hard look. Then he quietly explained. "Well, when I came ashore at Omaha Beach on D-Day in '44 to help liberate this country, I couldn't find any Frenchmen to show it to."

The customs officer had no reply...

ALL SUMMER IN A DAY BRADBURY

2006-06-21T22:20:00.000-07:00

This story is totally dope. I am putting it here since I saw the movie like 15 years ago, and totally always remember it:
All Summer in a Day
by
Ray Bradbury

No one in the class could remember a time when there wasn't rain.

“Ready?"

"Ready."

"Now?"

"Soon."

"Do the scientists really know? Will it happen today, will it?"

"Look, look; see for yourself!"

The children pressed to each other like so many roses, so many weeds, intermixed, peering out for a look at the hidden sun.

It rained.

It had been raining for seven years; thousand upon thousands of days compounded and filled from one end to the other with rain, with the drum and gush of water, with the sweet crystal fall of showers and the concussion of storms so heavy they were tidal waves come over the islands. A thousand forests had been crushed under the rain and grown up a thousand times to be crushed again. And this was the way life was forever on the planet Venus, and this was the schoolroom of the children of the rocket men and women who had come to a raining world to set up civilization and live out their lives.

"It's stopping, it's stopping!"

"Yes, yes!"

Margot stood apart from these children who could never remember a time when there wasn't rain and rain and rain. They were all nine years old, and if there had been a day, seven years ago, when the sun came out for an hour and showed its face to the stunned world, they could not recall. Sometimes, at night, she heard them stir, in remembrance, and she knew they were dreaming and remembering and old or a yellow crayon or a coin large enough to buy the world with. She knew they thought they remembered a warmness, like a blushing in the face, in the body, in the arms and legs and trembling hands. But then they always awoke to the tatting drum, the endless shaking down of clear bead necklaces upon the roof, the walk, the gardens, the forests, and their dreams were gone.

All day yesterday they had read in class about the sun. About how like a lemon it was, and how hot. And they had written small stories or essays or poems about it:

I think the sun is a flower,

That blooms for just one hour.

That was Margot's poem, read in a quiet voice in the still classroom while the rain was
falling outside.

"Aw, you didn't write that!" protested one of the boys.

"I did," said Margot. "I did."

"William!" said the teacher.

But that was yesterday. Now the rain was slackening, and the children were crushed in the great thick windows.

"Where's teacher?"

"She'll be back."

"She'd better hurry, we'll miss it!"

They turned on themselves, like a feverish wheel, all tumbling spokes.

Margot stood alone. She was a very frail girl who looked as if she had been lost in the rain for years and the rain had washed out the blue from her eyes and the red from her mouth and the yellow from her hair. She was an old photograph dusted from an album, whitened away, and if she spoke at all her voice would be a ghost. Now she stood, separate, staring at the rain and the loud wet world beyond the huge glass.

"What're you looking at?" said William.

Margot said nothing.

":Speak when you're spoken to." He gave her a shove. But she did not move; rather she let herself by moved only by him and nothing else.

They edged away from her, they would not look at her. She felt them go away. And this was because she would play no games with them in the echoing tunnels of the underground city. If they tagged her and ran, she stood blinking after them and did not follow. When the class sang songs about happiness and life and games her lips barely moved. Only when they sang about the sun and the summer did her lips move as she watched the drenched windows.

And then, of course, the biggest crime of all was that she had come here only five years ago from Earth, and she remembered the sun and the way the sun was and the sky was when she was four in Ohio. And they, they had been on Venus all their lives, and they had been only two years old when last the sun came out and had long since forgotten the color and heat of it and the way it really was. But Margot remembered.

"It's like a penny," she said once, eyes closed.

"No it's not!" the children cried.

"It's like a fire," she said, "in the stove."

"You're lying, you don't remember!" cried the children.

But she remembered and stood quietly apart from all of them and watched the patterning windows. And once, a month ago, she had refused to shower in the school shower rooms, had clutched her hands to her ears and over her head, screaming the water mustn't touch her head.
So after that, dimly, dimly, she sensed it, she was different and they knew her difference and kept away.

There was talk that her father and mother were taking her back to earth next year; it seemed vital to her that they do so, though it would mean the loss of thousands of dollars to her family. And so, the children hated her for all these reasons of big and little consequence. They hated her pale snow face, her waiting silence, her thinness, and her possible future.

"Get away!" The boy gave her another push. "What're you waiting for?"

Then, for the first time, she turned and looked at him. And what she was waiting for was in her eyes.

"Well, don't wait around here!" cried the boy savagely. "You won't see nothing!"

Her lips moved.

"Nothing!" he cried. "It was all a joke, wasn't it?" He turned to the other children. "Nothing's happening today. Is it?"

They all blinked at him and then, understanding, laughed and shook their heads. "Nothing, nothing!"

"Oh, but," Margot whispered, her eyes helpless. "But this is the day, the scientists predict, they say, they know, the sun. . . ."

"All a joke!" said the boy, and seized her roughly. "Hey, everyone, let's put her in a closet before teacher comes!"

"No," said Margot, falling back.

They surged about her, caught her up and bore her, protesting, and then pleading, and then crying, back into a tunnel, a room, a closet, where they slammed and locked the door. They stood looking at the door and saw it tremble from her beating and throwing herself against it. They heard her muffled cries. Then, smiling, they turned and went out and back down the tunnel, just as the teacher arrived.

"Ready, children?" she glanced at her watch.

"Yes!" said everyone.

"Are we all here?"

"Yes!"

The rain slackened still more.

They crowded to the huge door.

The rain stopped.

It was as if, in the midst of a film, concerning an avalanche, a tornado, a hurricane, a volcanic eruption, something had, first, gone wrong with the sound apparatus, thus muffling and finally cutting off all noise, all of the blasts and repercussions and thunders, and then, second, ripped the film from the projector and inserted in its place a peaceful tropical slide which did not move or tremor. The world ground to a standstill. The silence was so immense and unbelievable that you felt your ears had been stuffed or you had lost your hearing altogether. The children put their hands to their ears. They stood apart. The door slid back and the smell of the silent, waiting world came in to them.

The sun came out.

It was the color of flaming bronze and it was very large. And the sky around it was a blazing blue tile color. And the jungle burned with sunlight as the children, released from their spell, rushed out, yelling, into the springtime.

"Now don't go too far," called the teacher after them. "You've only two hours, you know. You wouldn't want to get caught out!"

But they were running and turning their faces up to the sky and feeling the sun on their cheeks like a warm iron; they were taking off their jackets and letting the sun burn their arms.

"Oh, it's better than the sun lamps, isn't it?"

"Much, much better!"

They stopped running and stood in the great jungle that covered Venus, that grew and never stopped growing, tumultuously, even as you watched it. It was a nest of octopi, clustering up great arms of flesh-like weed, wavering, flowering this brief spring. It was the color of rubber and ash, this jungle, from the many years without sun. It was the color of stones and white cheeses and ink, and it was the color of the moon.

The children lay out, laughing, on the jungle mattress, and heard it sigh and squeak under them, resilient and alive. They ran among the trees, they slipped and fell, they pushed each

other, they played hide-and-seek and tag, but most of all they squinted at the sun until the tears ran down their faces, they put their hands up to that yellowness and that amazing blueness and they breathed of the fresh, fresh air and listened and listened to the silence which suspended them in a blessed sea of no sound and no motion. They looked at everything and savored everything. Then, wildly, like animals escaped from their caves, they ran and ran in shouting circles. They ran for an hour and did not stop running.

And then—

In the midst of their running one of the girls wailed.

Everyone stopped.

The girl, standing in the open, held out her hand.

"Oh, look, look," she said, trembling.

They came slowly to look at her opened palm.

In the center of it, cupped and huge, was a single raindrop.

She began to cry, looking at it.

They glanced quietly at the sky.

"Oh. Oh."

A few cold drops fell on their noses and their cheeks and their mouths. The sun faded behind a stir of mist. A wind blew cool around them. They turned and started to walk back toward the underground house, their hands at their sides, their smiles vanishing away.

A boom of thunder startled them and like leaves before a new hurricane, they tumbled upon each other and ran. Lightening struck ten miles away, five miles away, a mile, a half mile. The sky darkened into midnight in a flash.

They stood in the doorway of the underground for a moment until it was raining hard. Then they closed the door and heard the gigantic sound of the rain falling in tons and avalanches, everywhere and forever.

"Will it be seven more years?"

"Yes. Seven."

Then one of them gave a little cry.

"Margot!"

"What?"

"She's still in the closet where we locked her."

"Margot."

They stood as if someone had driven them, like so many stakes, into the floor. They looked at each other and then looked away. They glanced out at the world that was raining now and raining and raining steadily. They could not meet each other's glances. Their faces were solemn and pale. They looked at their hands and feet, their faces down.

"Margot.

One of the girls said, "Well . . .?"

No one moved.

"Go on," whispered the girl.

They walked slowly down the hall in the sound of the cold rain. They turned through the doorway to the room in the sound of the storm and thunder, lightening on their faces, blue and terrible. They walked over to the closest door slowly and stood by it.

Behind the closed door was only silence.

They unlocked the door, even more slowly, and let Margot out.

the broken laptop i sold on ebay

2006-06-18T22:34:00.000-07:00

CLICK ME

This dude sold a broken laptop online, and he left files, passport scans, porn, and other stuff on the computer. IDIOT! So the buyer who could never get back his money, made this website. Hahahaha. Ooops!

Don't Buy Pepsi in the New Can

2006-05-28T15:33:00.000-07:00

Subject: DON'T BUY PEPSI IN THE NEW CAN!

Don't buy Pepsi in the new can. Pepsi has a new "patriotic" can
coming out with pictures of the Empire State Building, and the
Pledge of Alle giance on them.
However, Pepsi left out two little words on the pledge,
"Under God."
Pepsi said they didn't want to offend anyone.
In that case, we don't
want to offend anyone at the Pepsi corporate office, either!
So if we don't buy any Pepsi product, they will not be offended
when they don't receive our money that has the words
"In God We Trust" on it.
HOW FAST CAN YOU FORWARD THIS ONE?

College sucks

2006-05-23T21:23:00.000-07:00

Met with the director of my PhD program today and complained about my advisor. The guy just nodded, pretended to listen, and then said he needed to hear the other side of the story. I'm not too thrilled with all of this. I am pissed. I truly would like to finish my degree but, on the other hand, I am just totally annoyed by this whole situation.

I am ready to just quit. The dude even said "maybe you're bidding my time until {Insert my advisor's name here} dies or something." Isn't that freakin' moronic??????

Bad movies suck

2006-05-23T21:08:00.000-07:00

I saw SILENT HILL last week and I was so disappointed. I've seen porn with better actors than this movie. It totally sucked. The freaky lesbian cop lady freaked me out. There were holes in this film bigger than swiss cheese and I wasted my money.

FileWire.com - Got Files? Get 'Em Wired!

2006-05-14T12:16:00.000-07:00

FileWire.com - Got Files? Get 'Em Wired!

So I found this while surfing earlier today and thought it was pretty cool. You can upload files for free onto the Internet. Then download them from whereever. I know people who maintain online FTP servers, but a lot of people don't know how to make them so you can use this free website very easily.

tramp stamp

2006-05-11T20:31:00.000-07:00

Did you know tattoos on the small of women's backs are called TRAMP STAMPS?

Chris voted out

2006-05-10T20:57:00.000-07:00

I am officially boycotting American Idol forever. I am so pissed Chris was voted out that I am done watching. Totally. Elliot and Taylor are asses and can burn in Hades with Persephone.

I've downloaded music for years now, and I cannot tell you the last time I bought a CD BUT I WILL BUY CHRIS' CD!!! I WILL and I will listen over and over and make sure he gets me 10cents of whatever portion he will get.

Damn heartattacks

2006-05-10T20:42:00.000-07:00

My friend died in November. His heart gave out and that sucked. I think I overreact a lot and bend things out of perspective but then I wanted to go to this training today, and then the dude had a heartattack. I bet he'll live, but after a quadruple bypass and me missing the damn training.

I went out to lunch with the wife and bit the shit out of the side of my tongue! I hated it! It was the same spot I bit like three days in a row.

So I hit a movie this afternoon. I went to see SILENT HILL and it sucked, a lot! I hated it. There's better acting in a porn! Seriously, and I still don't even know what happened in the end. Crap. Pure crap.

Tom Cruise sucks sweaty goat balls

2006-05-06T11:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I pulled my Entertainment Weekly from the mailbox. Tom Cruise was on the front cover. I don't even know if I want to read it AT ALL EVER. I am almost ready to cancel my subscription totally. Why do they have to put HIM on the cover? I am totally disappointed. Now I've seen some bad Entertainment Weekly covers, but I was never forced to pay for a magazine with someone I hated on the front of it.

I think he's an egotistical maniac who needs to burn in hell RIGHT NOW. He's completely crazy and I cannot believe KATIE Holmes had his bastard child. (Not, Kate mind you, KATIE!). Suri? I don't dig the name and my father-in-law would freak out because it's not "white" enough but give me a break. Can you imagine growing up and thinking some actor is hot and then when he (or she) is middle aged you meet them, then screw them, then have his or her love child and maybe get married. That's like doing your sibling. It's weird. It's unnatural.

I hope MI 3 bombs because of his craddle robbing, couch jumping antics.

The one where I come back to the dark side

2006-05-03T20:49:00.000-07:00

Didn't update this in sometime. We're working on the house and trying to get that in order. When I moved here I thought I'd be back home after a couple of years and now all of a sudden it's been seven years and we're pretty set in our ways. A few months ago we thought we'd like to move, perhaps further south, perhaps closer to work, but then we walked around the block on evening and realized that we liked where we live. We just didn't like stuff about it, stuff we could fix. So we started to fix that stuff. Much if it will cost a lot of money, but if we do a little at a time we should be ok.

Sorry I don't write as much now. I've been traveling a bit and doing some digital imagining and such. And of course spending time with the family.

So I wrote a few months ago about schooling and how I am sick of my degree work and how I just want to quit, and I think I will. I am to the point where I just don't want to do it. My friends tell me it'll loom over my head for the rest of my life, but I am just so unhappy and depressed every time I think about researching or studying. I bet if I had to attend class weekly that it'd be better, but I really don't know for sure.

younger people

2006-04-17T21:23:00.000-07:00

Today I had to deal with a younger person and even though I deal with all kinds of people over and over again everywhere, today this kind acted really immature. I didn't think she was as immature as she acted at that moment, and I don't even know how to handle it. I did it the best way I could and moved on, but it bugged me.

Why is it that people piss other people off? Why is it that it bothers me when people are idiots? I always remind myself that tomorrow is another day. Today is not the end all and be all, but then I eventually let it go and move on, but this was bothering me. I don't know why, but I've not dealt with immaturity like that since my brother was locked up years ago.

The First Man or First lady?

2006-04-14T20:08:00.000-07:00

If Hillary wins in 2008, will Bush be the first lady or the first man?

Illegals go Home, leave America to US

2006-04-10T17:06:00.000-07:00

So I don’t get this. There are suppose to be like 50,000 to 100,000 marching on the capital building in Phoenix, Arizona today to keep pressure on Congress to pass immigration legislation that would allow undocumented immigrants in the United States to earn legal status and, eventually, citizenship. Now don’t get me wrong but if I go into Target or Wal-mart I should be able to go find a “bathroom” without searching for the “banos”. I am a MAN not an HOMBRE. I talked to a black friend today and he said they’re equating this whole thing to the civil rights movement, but guess what…. Mexicans CHOOSE to come here. Africans didn’t choose. They didn’t choose to leave their homeland, get shoved into the bowels of a boat, and dragged to the “New World”. The Mexicans chose to come here and steal jobs from my homeless.

Some brown people complain that their grandmas and moms will be sent packing if all the illegals are sent back to Mexico. But it was your grandmas and moms choice to come here in the first place! Illegally. Without permission. So go away. You can go visit them whenever you want with your green card or your liscense or what have you. Go down there and practice speaking their language, but here in the USA speak God’s given English. The language of our schools and our people. Don’t talk to me and that crap, and don’t expect me to understand you. You want to learn in my schools, then learn my language? It’s the land of opportunity, well take it then. Learn English and stop whining that we’re sending all the illegals packing. Even though I buy supplies for my brown landscaper to do really really cheap work in my yard, I want to order those supplies at Lowe’s at the CUSTOMER SERVICE DESK, Not the escritorio del servicio de cliente!!!!

Sometimes it's hard...

2006-04-09T21:01:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's hard to keep doing some of what I am doing here. I really enjoy my work and family, and I don't know about my degree. Sometimes I'd just like to stop. Totally. Just stop my degree, quit and walk away. I don't know what else to really say.