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From my little brain
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Content is paramount.
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[9/21/2001]
Great, lives are at stake, and I'm got the proverbial thumb up my bum.
A certain medical device manufacturer has complained that the product they're using from The Company does not function as advertise. It is up to your humble scribe to not only find out why it's broken, but apparantly, they want me to make it work again. The problem is that this medical device, pertains to the line of "heart/cancer imaging monitor", or some fancy name. While the problem occurs, they cannot use it. Hence, lives are being jeopardize, because they don't know if the guy has cancer or not - all because of me. (Well I didn't cause the problem, but I'm part of the problem, by not fixing it.) Is that pressure? You bet. I mean, if I don't find out quickly, somebody could die. Apparantly, U.S. Vice President Dick Chaney have used this device in the past, just so you know.... ....I could be killing people with my stupidity. If that's not a super power, I dunno what is.
Splinter update in my thumb:
Still inside, and still hurts. I can see a red welt developing on my left thumb. Okay, maybe not a welt, but a little bump nonetheless. I tried using a thumb tack to poke it out. But the thumb tack isn't narror enough, and the whole was getting a little too big to be comfortable. No blood, just not the smartest thing to do. I need a needle. Wish I had one. ....Fridays. Joy.
Here's the epitome of ghettoness. My stupid zipper on my jacket broke. Having no other way of fixing it, I used a small black paper clip thingy to fashion a zipper handle out of it.
On another note, I think I was abducted by aliens 2 nights ago. I'm serious. I have a very weird and inexplicable rash right in the center of my chest. It looks like road rash, only I didn't hit anything. Something scratched up my chest 2 nights ago while sleeping. I didn't have any weird dreams of little green poking me. But how else can you explain this? I remember the next day it hurt like stink, and my shirt kept rubbing it, making it more raw. Very disturbing. I wanted to get a picture of it, but do you really want to see my anemic chest?? Thought not. I doubt it's my landlady sneaking in at night to give me a love bite. They don't look like denture marks, and I doubt she'd scrape me with her nails across my body in the throes of passion. Therefore the logical conclusion must be interplanetary space travellers giving me the once over. ....aliens finding me attractive. Should I be scared or flattered?
[9/20/2001]
Bugger me. How ghey can it get?
The Company's hot water that comes out of the coffee pot is pretty tepid and foul tasting. Everyone knows this, and as such, most avoid it like the plague that it is. It is for this reason that we have a quick water boiler in one of our kitchenettes. It's nice and hot, and the water doesn't taste like old socks. What gets me riled up is when the last person who uses up the water does not refill and reboil for others. I mean, if you can't do a little thing like that, how does management expect you to handle a bigger task?? If you can't refill water, can you be trusted to write up code, and expect it to be done in a timely fashion?? Maybe I'm just too anal. ....Next you'll tell me that it's okay not to flush and wash your hands too.
[9/19/2001]
I got a splinter of wood stuck in my thumb from the poor Chinese chopstick I was using at lunch. It's hurting like anything. It's kicking the cow out of me. Moooo!
The worst part is that I cannot see where it's embedded into my thumb, only that it's really bothering me. I don't even have a needle around so I can poke holes into my flesh to try to wiggle it out. Dang it. Hurts. ....funny how the littlest things seem to bother the most. Sort of like this Ben Laden dude.
Never been a fan of Windows' Active Desktops. Totally useless IMO. I mean, who needs it really? Streaming news? Pshaw! Live Stock Ticker? Bah-humbug!
Then I see this: Satellite Tracking - Active Desktop Glorious! So neat for nerds such as I. It is a live tracking thing-a-ma-jig of ALL (well most) satellites surround the globe. Even military ones! (okay, my conspiracist mind says there's a bunch that it ISN'T tracking....) What is so neat is that you can also keep track of the weather, so you can see the cloud movement. Oh boy! Cooooooool. ....Hey I'm easily amused.
The Company is finally starting to realize that publicity is better than product sales. It seemed like they're happier having their logo in a product (that normal consumers would never see anyway), than it was to mention just how many projected units it would sell. Grand.
Well I've always known perception is better than the truth. You can fool more people for longer periods of time if you are perceived to be legit. Even if you ain't. Not that it's from experience of course, I ain't got it, and I can't pretend. I guess I'm stuck like chuck. Weather is starting to get cold, bike will need to be put away soon enough. Winter is fast approaching. Someone get me Prozac. ....If you can't flaunt it, fake it.
[9/18/2001]
Do I even want to ask just what the heck are you doing to that poor girl?? Aquagirl, (left) you have a lot of fessing up to do. Geez!! ....I know we're in a new millennium, but I'm still an old fashion kinda guy!
[9/17/2001]
 Click on the car to see the rock climbing & CivicGrrl's B-day bash! Although the car has nothing to do with either Rock Climbing or the Bash, mute was nice enough to let me use this pic that he took. I think it turned out really neat, very surreal. It's like the Diablo was stuck behind the glass, but was dreaming of outdoors under the cloud and sun. Very cool. Only one pic of rock climbing, and it was me belaying somebody. Belay... :) heh, sounds perversed. ....okay, maybe it's only me who thinks that. Well, Belay!
[9/16/2001]
Edited for grammar and bad typing.
We had it easy as kids. Boys had short hair, girls had long hair, and that's how we could tell between the two genders. Then seemingly, in the span of a decade, everything changed. Twiggy cut her hair short and that was all the rage. Then when the hippies invaded, well pretty much everyone had long hair. Frankly, it's so hard to tell now what gender anyone is anymore. You have girls who are ultra built, and then you had nancy-boys who have eating disorders which made them skinnier than stilts. Even boobies, once a trade-mark of girls, are no longer an absolute. Fat overweight men with B cups and flat chested girls add to the confusion, especially when viewed from behind. Our last vestige of hope I guess is the act of urination. You can see this in dogs. Male dogs lift up their leg to pee, female dogs squat. This is reflected in humans. Well, I don't have to explain further. But let's face it - no one likes to clean a dirty washroom, even if it's of their own fluids. Truthfully, though the male anatomy has oft been associated to hoses, tubes, straws, and for the unfortunate few, funnels; peeing for us isn't exactly a laser precise exercise. We're not talking smart bombs here people. More often than not, our tinkles (especially the "in the middle of the night" jobs) are more like carpet bombing. We have an idea of where the bowl is, but as long as most of it is on target without splashing our legs, we're pretty happy. Armed only in underwear, sometimes it's easier just to sit down and pee. I know I'm fairly uncoordinated when awake, but much more so when half-asleep. Still I haven't managed to miss the toilet once while sitting down; working good so far. But really, isn't this that all we have left to show of our male-dom? I unforunately think so. Hence, this I vow: As a male of my species, and as a genuine guy, let all who read this be my witness; for here and now, I will always stand proud and tall whenever I need to do a Number One . Sticky yellow floors be damned! ....I wonder if lady-boys stand or sit. Wait, I really don't want to know. |