-The0
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Post 4, Base64
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
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Long Day, Short Temper
Whoever said it is always darkest before the dawn is full of horse piss. I was heading off to work at an ACTUAL obscene hour today (4:30 am) and I could see the sun's hateful fucking rays starting to lick the horizon. Things will usually give a sign that they are getting better, and today I will not see a fucking single one of those signs. I'm not even going to see the sun at all today. I'm calling back to a post where people can't do their job. Guess who picks up the slack? Your local favorite cross-bearer.
My overtime is ridiculous, though.
-The0
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
The Hell?
My thoughts exactly as Walter, his wife and I approached my neighborhood after dinner. There, parked flashing, and waiting nearby were roughly 20 police vehicles, to include S.W.A.T. vans and firetrucks. We parked, and we joined the growing droves of people on the sidewalks. After much listening in, we learned it was some kind of hostage situation or police standoff. A guy with a radio scanner even heard talk of a sniper having a shot, and being told to hold his position or something. Very exciting, but ultimately a waste of time. All the cops were gone in the morning, and I can only assume there was a peaceful resolution.
I got a funny feeling that this whole ordeal was bringing the community together. People who hadn't seen each other in months were sharing smiles, and someone even brought out a table and chairs. "Hey! I remember you! We met at the standoff last week! Let's network!"
Pictures of the lovely mess.
Apparently, the guy was simply armed and alone in his house. Waste of time.
-The0
Monday, August 9, 2010
I thought I was a public risk.
So I was barely awake for a shift that began at what I would call, "Obscenely Early." I was already minutes behind, but decided it would be far wiser to be a little late with some form of energy drink in hand than to show up on time wanting to murder everything I saw. I'm waiting at the traffic light, taking is what morning looks like, when the vehicle next to me starts charging forward by feet at a time. I see that the light is still red, and I'm wondering, "Where the hell this guy is trying to go?"
I take a better glance, and see that he has been rear-ended. More than that, he keeps getting hit and pushed a bit forward. This is a terrible way to start your day, especially for the person behind. You are invariably at fault, you've got damage to your car, and on top of that, the sun is shining and birds are chirping gaily like that's their freaking job. I look back even farther, rubbernecking to catch a view of the poor rear driver's face. I see her, she's not reaching for her insurance or her phone. No, she's busy having a seizure. The man in front reacts, calls 911, and tries to shut her car down. I think to myself, "I should get out and help, but he seems to have it. Plus, my light has just turned green, and there are people behind me."
I drive across the street, wishing there was more I could do, and pull into the gas station. To my surprise, there is a police car sitting in the lot, and the officer was standing right inside. I went in, made my selection, completed my transaction, turned to him and said, "There has been an accident at the intersection of ______ and ______, right down there. The lady involved is not well, you should probably get there." We both left, he was the third one on the scene, and I continued on my way.
I did a good deed today through no fault or effort of my own. Plus, I was only a minute late to work!
-The0
Friday, August 6, 2010
Always
So like many of my generation, my media affiliation has been totally dominated by [adult swim] (yes, the brackets are necessary. I'm not sorry.) They had recently plugged endlessly a game they created called "Robot Unicorn Attack" with a one-song soundtrack, "Always" by Erasure. Under ANY other circumstance, I would have no damn clue what the hell that song was or where it came from.
I was walking through Lowe's one lovely afternoon with Dr. Girlfriend, when suddenly we paused, mid-selection of items, and we heard this song over the PA. We sang, we laughed, we even danced a minute bit. We thought of the randomness of the moment, and then we went back to selecting furniture pads.
We were struck with the idea that the music was totally out of place in a hardware store. What self-respecting contractor or home repairman would be caught listening to something as purely pop as "Always"? Stereotypes aside, Erasure is out of place anywhere, saving of course a game like Robot Unicorn Attack. I'm not saying I can do better, but if this is the idea of a joke for the one girl that works at Lowe's, then well done!
Living in Harmony, Harmony, oh Love!
-The0
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Monthly Report 3
Another month end! Hooray! Another couple of paychecks, another couple hours of gaming, and some steps on the Zombie Walk have been taken. All in all, some accomplishments, some lackings, but a good enough month.
The coming posts are going to be short and sweet. Again. As the more astute of you have no doubt noticed, I draft these things way up in advance, and then crank them when I have (read: force myself to have) time to complete them. My best post recently is the one before this, please cram your eyes at that.
Procrastination is quite the strange bird, indeed. You finally get all the way up to a deadline, and then when you finally catch yourself almost completely up, you take a small break, and then life gets in the fucking way. This month, I will finally catch up from the holidays.
Not afraid of run-on sentences,
-The0
Friday, July 30, 2010
The "Roll" part of Rock
As previously mentioned, I have obsessions which come to the forefront of my skull, become all I can talk or think about for about 2 months, and then, though still a part of my repertoire of interests, fade away. Usually, it's because such projects or obsessions are very very costly, require loads of free time (in very short supply, as readers have no doubt inferred,) or a vast sum of technical knowledge in order to get them to even come close to fruition. The results however, can astound anyone. That disclaimed, I give you the current honey of my th0ught process, The 1957 Chevrolet.

My god, I know I bend to obsession at times, but I hope this one remains part of my person for as long as I am coherent. I'm losing hope on it officially, in a depressed bout where I've decided I will never have the available cash to get my latest dream car, which in all rights, is my original dream car. I've loved this vehicle off and on since I was 8, I think. The 1957 Chevrolet 150, 210 or Bel Air. A beautiful mix of subdued styling; classy, and aggressive, like a spy with a sassy haircut, an ironworker in a tuxedo, a rock star in high society, or a nerd in a hawaiian shirt (not sure about that last simile). This thing is such a mishmash of personality and actual sass that most people, even not knowing the year, have to bend to its class, history, styling, and interestingly enough, progressiveness.
The avant-garde shape of the headlights, the generous helping of chrome on the bumper, the futuristic bombsight hood ornaments give the car a character straight from the front view. Moving over the lovingly angled windshield, we come to the beginning of the fins, curving down slightly to let you know they're beginning. Echoing the wheel wells, they play small hint at what's to come. The forerunner to muscle car styling gives straight back to a pair of elegant fins. Sort of a raised eyebrow at the massive airfoils that were beginning to adorn cars at that time. The interior, simplistic of the now, was modern at it's era. Smooth, sleek, yet busy. Not really deco, but I have no idea how else to describe it. Beautiful. The whitewall tires do no small favor in the fast-paced look that go straight from the blacktop to the ballroom.
However, design is not the only property this vehicle has to show for itself. Available options for it included air conditioning (a rare amenity back then), a razor for some reason (maybe to shave on the way to work?), a dashboard prism that allowed you to see traffic lights changing (so that you don't have to lean forward to watch them), and a couple of other things. It even had something called an "Autotronic Eye", which automatically dimmed your headlights when it sensed oncoming light sources. Internally, we had the options for power steering, power brakes, an automatic transmission, and the first-ever production fuel-injected engine. It made for the second engine to ever produce one horsepower per cubic inch of displacement off the line. Technology and engineering all coming together for a grand, beautiful triumph of form and function.
This car calls back to a whitewashed past. In a din of civil rights disputes, scandal, and the awesome birth of rock and roll, we can still look back at the faded posters and rust spots on our post-war glory, and remember how it used to be. If it becomes the death of me, I will own one of these.
-The0
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Lunacy
I have many interests, varied and numerous as the fucking stars. They are all very cool, very worthwhile, very appealing interests. The main issue is that I have ADD. These interests wax ridiculous and then, sadly, slowly wane to the periphery. These interests don't cease to be interesting, though. I simply get distracted by another shiny new awesome. Recall my devout interest in robots just over a year ago? I'm able to identify rotor type and purpose, a couple of technical terms, and I can appreciate the effort put into those things. That is all that has come of those hours perusing and researching. It's been happening for a while now, and I'm making certain to recognize it.
The real trouble in all of this is that I think it keeps me from getting farther ahead in life. I get an interest, a will to make something cool happen, and then either interest fades or something new comes up. It's a hell to be able to recognize this kind of pattern, and be next to powerless to stop it. Like someone who has no apparent willpower.
I am going to start working against this. I'm making permanent logs of things I want to do. They call these things "Goals" apparently. A goal that is not written down is but a dream, apparently. So, with my work cut out for me, I need to prioritize, and make daily efforts towards my goals.
I didn't mean to get all preachy just then. It would seem my current goal is to start making goals, to the end of getting my life together.
...Again.
-The0
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Ridiculously Behind
Have you ever noticed how time seems to go faster when it's the last thing you want/need it to do? For example, you have 12 years worth of work to do, and 15 minutes in which to do it. You sneeze, and then you're late, running behind and doing everything on the fly. I feel like that lately. My weblog is sadly suffering for the time being because of this fact.
They say if you're early to bed, early to rise, it'll make you healthy, wealthy, and wise. Late to sleep, late to wake, makes a man hard to break I think. Harder circumstances has tried to bring me down, and the fact of the matter is I just won't freaking let it. I have too much work to do.
I'm not to proud to turn down help on anything when it's offered. Not anymore. I have very little experience soliciting help though. That stated, well, I'll just follow my usual form and blurt it out.
Following is a small list of projects which with I could use some assistance:
- Zombie Walk, scheduled for October 23rd.
- Reclamation of my living area, sooner than later.
- Destruction of my alcohol collection, as soon as possible.
- Undisclosed dream car project, before oil runs out.
- Instrument practice, whenever possible.
- Video gameage, whenever possible.
- Work tomorrow, Too soon.
Yeah, I may be biting off more than I can chew.
-The0
Monday, July 26, 2010
New Shoes!
I was never really able to get in on popular things while I was young. I was late to great music, I was behind the curve to good movies, and spending all my physical adolescence in a military school, I was certainly never on top of fashions. But, having lived on my own, socialized a bit more, and learned of the real ways of rock, I came across an affinity for something I love wearing. 20 years late, but still kickin'.
My Converse Chuck Taylors. Black and white, athletic, classy, and they can go nearly everywhere. The quintessential rock and roll shoe, retro in it's looks, and hip to this day. Granted, I'm rambling at this point, but I seriously love the look and feel of these shoes. I'm getting married in them (or a new pair at that point, probably), and if I can find the right tuxedo, I can pull it off.
All-Stars. They're like whitewall tires, for your feet.
-The0
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Can't get it from Radishes, either.
A couple of weeks ago I had my debit card number stolen. I was woken up early on a day off to a call from my bank, asking about several large purchases. I had just gotten paid the night before, but I had not yet deposited the money. Some one, through one of my online transactions, I must assume, had gotten a hold of my card number and tried to make a bunch of, get this, Apple related purchases. I of course denied all of these charges, had the card cancelled, and began a very broke fortnight.
Seriously though, it's clear that these guys have no idea who the people from whom they steal are. This thing got nipped in the bud faster than I can pour a drink after my work day. Sadly, he (assumed gender) had already drained my bank account with purchases related to overpriced electronics. That's where all this beauty lies.
- You're not going to get blood from a turnip. I had next to nothing to give, and your stupid ass tried to steal everything I had at the bottom on my fiscal cycle. Moron.
- Really? Apple? REALLY? The only online purchases I made in the first place, from which you could have stolen my card number were were for purchases diametrically OPPOSED to Apple. Someone's got a little problem recognizing patterns, huh? This is risky information, I know, but I don't think you're stupid enough to try this twice.
- By cancelling the card, refuting the purchases, and sifting through enough tape to get through it, I have completely voided your fraudulent purchases. It takes more effort to overwrite yours, but guess what? Your effort was actually for naught now. You've been cancelled out. How's that feel, weakling?
I'm much more careful with my (well-protected) card now, and all in all, I'm wiser and safer for this experience. Suck and fuck it, slacker!
-The0
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)