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Corporate Crackdown

So, some of you out there might be aware of my job as a lab technician for a company that deals with oil and gas. You might also be aware of my sense of duality that keeps me flip flopping back and forth like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Today one of the big wigs came in to give a speech about what was going on in the company concerning our location and the future plans and vaguely how they would affect us. To be fair, this needs to be done badly as we have been greatly mismanaged since the beginning and this had led to several financial and structural blunders. That being said, there is still a voice deep down inside of me that is holding an anarchy sign and wearing an eight inch green, spiked Mohawk and protesting vehemently.

In reality I want to be a well rounded adult and have the nurturing structure that keeps me tightly in bounds and steadily progressing toward a whimpering retirement in which I sit at home for the remainder of my years cutting out coupons for creams and complaining about the modern generation. That is to say, I want to want that because its boring and the path of least resistance. It would be very easy if this were my outlook. Unfortunately, the screaming anarchist punk in me (lets call him Rex because it sounds more rebellious than Quincy or Leopold) resists this with every turn. I’d say for every 80% that I agree with structural reform there is a 20% that I want to tear it all down and burn it to the ground.

I’m really not sure if I’ll ever be able to fully appreciate and capitulate to the gods of business. It might be my curse to be one foot in and one foot out for the rest of eternity. It’s quite ironic, however, that I am seen as a “company man” who has “drank the kool-aid” and this has earned me acclaim and will probably earn me a spot among the pantheon of business moguls here at some point. The real question is if I will look back at my progression will I be disappointed that I gave in and became part of the establishment and suddenly decide to tear it apart from the inside out, or will I (more likely) just become a tool; a cog in the corporate wheel.

Looking back this is kind of an uncharacteristic piece of literary work for me, but I’ll post it anyway…because the man can’t keep me down! ūüėČ


How to deal with a narcissist

I’m not going to bother going into details about who this particular narcissist is that is plaguing me at the moment. Suffice it to say that he’s got my feathers ruffled. But I thought maybe my experience might help others…or at least be good for a laugh.

Well, I have to deal with this person quite frequently and for a long time I would just blow it off and call him a prick and comment to my friends about how highly he thinks of himself and I’d throw myself a little pity party. I’ve now learned that narcissists derive their compulsions from a lack of confidence and a constant need to be reassured of their own value. That being said, he is really only a victim of himself and my “snarkicism” isn’t helping anyone. So I’ve devised a plan.

From now on I will try to find things to compliment him on in a genuine and sincere fashion. I think by honestly looking at his positive contributions I will be able to better appreciate his input and not want to strangle him with an extension cord. Maybe. Also, I’ve decided that I will take a different approach when I need to talk to him. I will not try to invoke his own sense of self fulfillment by playing the hapless victim, I will only approach him on the topic of problem solving if I have thoroughly thought out my issues and have devised a plan, or several plans, of action. Then I can compliment him on his addition.

Sorry, that was a little less humorous than I was thinking it would be. It’s probably just due to the fact that I’m so irritated by it. Well, if I’ve learned how to do anything in 30 years its to let things go. So here’s to hoping…

Car Wrecks and Mailboxes

The two are unrelated you say. Hogwash!

So, as some of you may have noticed (the few of you who actually read my posts after my lengthy departure from the literary world of blogging) I am back to my old antics. In truth, I knew that I could never stay away from blogging, the desire to relieve myself of the thoughts and rants that bounce around in this spacious head of mine are too great.

With that in mind, I thought I should catch you up on some semi-recent events. Namely, the car wreck that landed me in the hospital for a little while. You see, most people would be perfectly right in assuming that a toll lane stop sign is a perfectly legal and legitimate place to stop. Unfortunately for Captain Textsalot (or whatever was distracting him) this theory was put into question.

It was a Thursday…and much like a Thursday, there was an ominous weight that hung in the air. Okay, maybe it was less ominous and more painful. I had been suffering from stomach pains which I thought were brought about by a hiatal hernia and I decided to go home from work. While waiting for the Cadillac full of strippers (more on this later) in front of me to drop their change (which was probably riddled with herpes and cocaine residue) and parked at a stop sign I was rear ended by a large truck going 60 miles per hour.

Let me put this in perspective. I drive…..erm….drove….a 2010 Honda Insight Hybrid which weighs significantly less than the Chevy Avalance that exhaust raped me from behind. The guy literally never hit his breaks and drove me through the car in front of me and into the concrete divider that separated the toll lanes. I must have been knocked unconscious because when I came to there was a lady trying to open my drivers side door.

The good news is that for a minute I didn’t feel my stomach pain. The bad news, and what was about to escalate in a short amount of time, was that my pain was not caused from a hiatal hernia. To make a long story short with the guy who hit me and the strippers in front, the girls in front of me were driving around in some guys car on their way to “dance” at work. The guy behind me said that he “thought I was going to go” and this is why he decided to try to see if he could run through my car. At first I refused medical help, but then I realized shortly after that I would need to go to the emergency room.

The reason for my alarm being that when my wife arrived to pick me up, my eyes and skin were both yellow. So now I was walking around like big birds shorter brother and on my way to the emergency room. The emergency room doctors and nurses rightfully deduced that I was walking and talking fine so I was not a high priority. After negative x-rays they were just about to let me go when they asked me for a urine sample. What secreted out of my nether-regions was something akin to coffee. The nurses actually stood in a circle holding it up to the light and gasping in amazement. Turns out my stomach trouble was really gallstones…

Being the lucky man I am, a gallstone had become lodged into my bile duct (possibly as a result of the accident, but probably not) causing my kidneys to back up with bile. After two surgeries, one to remove the obstruction and patch up the tube, and one to remove my gallbladder and its entirety I was now back to my normal hue. Unfortunately, the gall bladder was over-sized and hard as a rock and the incision had to be made larger which made my belly button look like a mini-vagina. No offense to you lovely ladies out there. But it’s the closest comparison I have.

The thing you don’t realize about Gerry the Gallbladder is that he breaks down all those nice fatty foods you like to stuff in your meat hole and turns them into nutritious vitamins and then stores the rest in your ass and thighs and spends the next half a day trying to get rid of them. But when Gerry leaves town….oh how the food gets its revenge. I now can’t eat anything that has fat in it without having to first make sure there is a bathroom within running distance. I’ve pretty much times it to 30 minutes before my body violently tries to rid itself of what I can only assume it thinks is the foulest food its ever encountered. I’ve met some devout people in my travels, but my bodies devotion to casting out the demons of Jack in the Box and Buffalo Wild Wings put all those to shame. I apologize if you’re eating right now….

So this brings us to the mailboxes. What I failed to mention previously is that as a result of the wreck I now have phantom back and pelvic pains that like to flare up at inopportune moments. Well, this past weekend I decided that I was going to dig up the old mailbox that was hanging in front of my house by duct tape and replace it with a nice new mailbox. Bad idea. After digging three feet of concrete out of the ground I felt like I had just received a massage via swift donkey kicking. If you’ve never tried this method of massage I highly recommend it. Especially if your level of self loathing is as evolved as mine.

So there you have it. Car Wrecks and Mailboxes. If you have any questions about how to deal with gallbladder issues or you just want to point at me in laugh feel free to comment below.


Honoring the Dead…by stealing their things

I’m a little pissed right now. Why? You’ll find out in a second. This is going to be ranty…so hang on to your knickerbockers.

My wife and I were asked to come help go through some stuff and help move. The belongings were that of my friends recently deceased father-in-law. I didn’t really want to go but they needed help and I knew they’d be giving away some cool gadgets of his so I agreed.

First, my wife and I both don’t really like this couple. They’re both self-centered and think that everyone else owes them something. But I’ve known this guy forever and he’s like a brother to me. On the way to the house his wife said, “Well, even a shabby house like yours would be worth a lot in that neighborhood…no offense.” So it didn’t start off well…

When we got there, my friend was less worried about organizing and moving and more worried about trying to take whatever he could. That’s started my second wave of irritation. Let me provide a few examples and lets see how you would have reacted:

1) We find a laptop brand new in a box. I tell the guys wife who says that it belongs to a company he sold it to and that they are looking for it. She sets it to the side and when she’s not looking he takes it and stashes it in his truck.

2) He finds a film canister full of weed and spends the next 30 minutes trying to find aluminum foil to smoke it out of in the bushes out back. He finally finds a doctor pepper can, smokes the weed, complains he’s too high and almost falls through her roof, damaging the sheet rock on the ceiling.

3) He goes around looking for things that aren’t supposed to be gone through and starts asking if he can keep them (as if he doesn’t have enough already). He even asks for a $400 dollar fish finder. He doesn’t have a boat…and he doesn’t fish…
In any event, we make it back to my friends house with thousands of dollars worth of merchandise and I help him unload everything. He then points to a pile of wires and scraps and says, “You can keep something if you want”. I look at all the hard drives, computers, monitors, DVD players, etc that he’s taken and just say, “Nah, I’ve got enough junk. You keep it”. Then his wife goes off on me about how its not junk and I don’t know what I’m talking about.

Sorry for the long rant, but the more I thought about it the more it pissed me off. I don’t understand why some people are just out for themselves. It makes no sense to me. There is more to life than mountains of crap. Okay, rant over. I feel better now. Sorry to drag you through that.


Happy Happy Happy

I worked out this morning. I was sore from last nights gym tournament. I call it a tournament because instead of sticking to a few exercises like I normally do, I just walked around the gym trying to figure out which part of my body wasn’t sore so that I could punish it for its laziness.

After my workout this morning, I took a shower and went to work. For some reason I felt really good after working out so I was happy. I guess I must not exude happiness much because when I walked in and said, “And how are you 2 ladies doing today?” the front desk women looked at me puzzled and murmered “fine…” under their breaths.

Then as I approached my desk, I asked a colleague the same thing. She distorted her face into a scour and said, “Are you running for office or something?”. Can’t I just be fucking happy people? Sorry for the language, but I felt it emphasized my displeasure at people not being able to deal with my happiness. For god sakes, grab some coffee and some perkiset(?) and go skip on a rainbow. Don’t come to work and harsh my happiness with your smirky hatefulness.

It’s rather unusual for me to be this happy though…maybe somethign is wrong. Maybe my body is emptying all of its seratonin and soon I’ll be left a depressed, mopey mess. No, I’m not quite happy enough for that. I’ve taken ecstacy so I know my happy limits. You can’t say you’re the happiest you’ve ever been until you stare at a motivational poster of a guy in a kayak for 20 minutes pretending to paddle down an imaginary river as you shout joyfully. Ahh high school. Those were the days…


A buddy of mine suggested some anime for me and also gave me a hard drive filled with them. I know, you’re probably thinking that I’m a geek for watching anime. You’re not wrong…but there is more to it.

The thing that I really like about Japanese anime is that if you find the right one, it really expresses the beauty and simplicity of the Japanese culture. You may have to sift through hours of cartoon boobs and upskirts¬†to find it, but it’s there.

The thing I’ve most learned through watching anime is that the Japanese idolize chivalry. Men being courageous and standing up for what they believe in, respect, love for your family, helping others, and perseverance are really evident in a lot of the anime I’ve seen. These values alone make it worth watching for me.

My wife gets mad at me when I have these shows on and my kids are in the room. She wants me to, “Put something more educational on like Wonderpets¬†or Pets.TV.” I have to object though. Any show that emphasizes the afore-mentioned values is good for my kids to watch.

I’ve been so impressed by the genre that it’s caused me to think about doing a few things in my own life that I’ve seen while watching. I’m not going to go into those, but it basically involves improving my way of life. And don’t get me wrong, I watch and read adult material. But honestly, I’d rather watch “Kenichi”¬†or “Capeta”¬†than “Everybody Loves Raymond” or “House”. After watching anime with such innocence and high moral values its hard to go back to TV trash with needless drama and shallowness.

I’m watching you!

..not in a creepy way. Well, actually it’s a bit creepy. I’m a people watcher. I don’t sit there and stare at people, but every once in a while I find myself looking at someone passing by and thinking about them. I think about where they are going, what they are thinking, who they love, how they deal with their problems, etc.

I find people infinitely interesting. The main reason is that we are all different. I often think I know what someone is going to do and then they surprise me with something unexpected. Give you an example, you say. Gladly.

I was going fishing late at night a few days ago and before I had to meet up with my friends I stopped by Wal-Mart (Only because it was the only place open. I despise shopping in Wal-Mart) to get a propane tank for my Coleman Lantern. While driving out of the parking lot I saw a woman walking down the street with her purse and she appeared to be walking to the bus stop. She looked like she was dressed up to go out to a party or club and it was Saturday night, so that might have been the case. Then, it happened. The woman started taking off the bottoms of her clothes and before I knew if she was only wearing a sparkly white shirt.

It’s not like she did a¬† strip tease or anything. She simply decided that she didn’t need to wear them anymore, took them off, and kept walking down a busy street. I was completely befuddled by this. I mean, it goes against all social norms to walk outside without pants, not to mention illegal. The best part was that I mentioned it to my friends and a girl said that she had seen the woman walking around the same area with no pants.

To be fair, her shirt was longer on one side and provided the appearance of a ridiculously¬†short skirt, but it didn’t cover her vajayjay at all. It was just flapping in the breeze. Is that the right word for it…no….not flapping….sitting smugly. That’s what it was doing, sitting smugly. Smiting its cotton jailer.

But that’s just one example. There are thousands more. It makes me feel a bit better about myself actually. Not because I think I’m better than anyone, but because it shows me that no matter what crazy thoughts, self-pity, or anger I’m going through, there are infinite ways that other people are dealing with the same things.

I know, I know. It’s not a neatly wrapped blog. I’m coming back from a bumpy road I was on the past couple of weeks, but it will do for now.

10 Things I Learned from Barbarella

I worked from home today. Honestly, I just didn’t feel like spending the extra 2 hours driving. Plus, I can kind of do that since my boss only shows up 2 days out of the month.

Part of today’s events included watching Barbarella. It’s sat in my queue for a long time but until yet I have not watched it. Now that I have, I have to say that I’ve learned a few things…

1) People in the 60s had it good. I mean, half of the movie was sex and the other half was people trying to have sex. I somehow feel like we’re going away from the natural¬†progression¬†of things. It went dark ages, pilgrims, civil wars, SEXY TIME, science and computers. It was like all the people in the 60s used of the sex for the rest of the ages. Don’t be so damn greedy 60s.

2)Everyone in the future will wear a cape. Despite the inability to fly (sans flying angel), people just find it cool to wear capes in the future. I’m not sure if this was influenced by Adam West, or if capes were just all the rage in 1968.

3)Every time someone helps you out, you have to sleep with them. I know this goes back to the sex things, but jeez. If someone opens a door for you, don’t just drop your drawers. I think there is a proper sequence of events. An introduction would be nice for starters. It doesn’t have to be an entire history or¬†genealogy, but a name would be cool…

4)Angels don’t make love, they are love. Despite the fact that he just had sex with Barbarella, he now “doesn’t make love”. He’s like…the only person in the 60s not giving it out like candy. Prude ass angels…

5)If you don’t have some sort of masochistic¬†fantasy¬†and cosplay gear, you will not make it in the future. Along with the capes were all sorts of weird attire including a horn on your head, being made partly of stone, and leather bike shorts. I’m almost entirely certain that this is the period that is responsible for stripper clothes. For that I thank and condemn you.

6)Children of the future are cruel bastards. I mean both of these literally. Apparently they have no parents and just hang out by an ice lake ready to abduct half-naked space travelers. Then they turn these little demonic, razor toothed dolls on them. If you never had a fear of dolls, this movie will help you out.

7)Apparently everything in the future works on sound and emotion. No technical knowledge is needed. I guess this is good news for all those teenagers in angst who learned to play keyboard or guitar. They’re practically gods in the future. The only thing you have to do is knock on a piece of machinery and it will make sounds indicating what’s wrong with it. I tried this with my car, but it appears we are not ready for that technology yet. Maybe someday…

8)Saying, “And in the final crescendo, you will die of pleasure!” does not turn women on. As a matter of fact you just look creepy when you say it and, if accompanied by a giant futuristic organ, you probably will never get laid ever again. On the other hand, you may get roles playing the Phantom of the Opera or¬†Quasimodo.

9)Every time someone tries to kill you, you should immediately escape death and then joke about it with them. As a matter of fact you can just stand around after averting it and you will be okay. This is probably why the crime rate was so bad in the 60s….either that or it was because everyone was always out of their mind.

Oh, you just tried to shoot me.No, its okay. Sure I’ll help you go do this one thing. No, no problem at all. Hey, while we’re at it we might as well have sex. I mean, I haven’t had sex in like 5 minutes.

10)When you have sex in the future, at least by pill form, it will make your hair curl and your fingers smoke. As a matter of fact I’m taking this time to create the first ever “Non-Curling Sex Spray”. It’s light years ahead of its time and I will make billions in about 3500 years. By then a billion might not be that much, so let me take a page from Dr. Evil and say, “One Gazillion Dollars!” My patented “Non-Curling Sex Spray” TM will only be available in a limited supply, so get yours while your sex hair is still straight. Also, coming soon, “Smoke Free Sex Gloves”. Yours free with every purchase of leather cape.

Feed Me Seymour!

I don’t know if anyone gets the reference from the “Little Shop Of Horrors”. Like most 80s movies, it had cheesy lines, cheesy musicals, and a budding Rick Moranis. Despite the cheesiness, I actually remember it being a good movie and I loved the giant singing carnivorous plant.

What is this blog about? I’m starting to wonder that myself…It’s not about movies, or the 80s, or cannibalism, sadly. Not, it’s about my love of plants. I know, I know. Feel free to leave your comments below.

I have this thing for plants. I think it’s because I like creating and the creation that results from the process of love and hardship. I go out and look at my babies every morning and make sure they aren’t been leaf-raped by a marauding gang of biker beetles. You laugh, but the second you come outside and see three of the eight leaves on your bell pepper plant looking like Swiss cheese you’ll drop to your knees and scream, “Why God, WHY!!!!!” at the sky also.

Maybe I’m over-exaggerating, but I really do put a lot of time and effort into growing and harvesting them. I came out this morning and some high winds had toppled one of my plants I had been caring for half a year. Each day I’d carefully inspect the leaves and gently water and then, BAM! It felt like someone had punched me in the gut. In retrospect, I probably should have secured the plant with some bamboo or wiring, but whats done is done.

I have this radish in my raised bed that I was trying to grow until it produced seed pods. It never did, and now its the largest radish I’ve ever seen, sans seed pods. I don’t have the heart to pull it. Poor barren bastard.

Anyway, I’m going on excessively now. I’ll stop, but know this. Gardening is an extremely rewarding experience and if you’re not doing it, you’re not with the cool kids. And you want to be with the cool kids. Otherwise you’ll end up with your head in a toilet getting a swirly.

Writing My Career Path

For those of you who missed my every comment about jobs yesterday, I am on a new path. I’m actually very excited. For the first time I have a clearly outlined plan to reach my goals.

What are my goals? I’m glad you asked and care so much. Well, I want to write. Yesterday I was talking to The Hobbler and she suggested it and I told her that I don’t have people lining up to pay me to write. What I overlooked was that I had not planned anything and just kind of hoped the pieces would fall in place if I started writing.

Thanks to a blogger who happens to be a lifecoach, I got some really good tips on how to approach what I want in life. At least as far as my career is involved. I found out that most people don’t fail because they are lazy or lack ambition but because they do not have a clear and organized plan.

So I took some time yesterday to organize my goals and to list out my plan of action. It is as follows:

Continue writing DIY articles and apply to other companies to write these for them as well.

Apply for freelance writing projects

(Doing these steps will not only allow me experience in research and topic writing but will also help me pad my portfolio)

Begin writing an hour a day for my book. (I am starting to write a book. I will spend an hour a day on organizing and writing it.)


One of her tips is to imagine yourself in a year or five years, with your goal accomplished. Doing this, I was able to see how I needed to progress and what path I wanted my career to take.

My expectation is that as I take on these freelance projects, I will not only accumulate a reputation and portfolio, but I will also gain confidence and be able slowly depend less on my day job. When I get to a point that my freelance writing is providing enough income that I can quit my day job, I will do so.

Let me be clear. I don’t think this is going to happen overnight. I do, however, think that if I follow my plan and stay committed I will eventually arrive at my goal.

I feel so much better today. I feel like I’ve got a new start. I’ve even got a response back from an employer that is hiring for a freelance writer. So thank you to all of you who were there for my mood swing yesterday. And to all of you who weren’t also.

Now back to your regularly scheduled program.

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