more about sex
STEPS IN OVERCOMING MASTURBATION
Mark E. Petersen
Council of the 12 Apostles
Be assured that you can be cured of your difficulty. Many have been,
both male and female, and you can be also if you determine that it
must be so.
This determination is the first step. That is where we begin. You must
decide that you will end this practice, and when you make that
decision, the problem will be greatly reduced at once.
But it must be more than a hope or a whish, more than knowing that it
is good for you. It must be actually a DECISION. If you truly make up
your mind that you will be cured, then you will have the strength to
resist any tendencies which you may have and any temptations which may
come to you.
After you have made this decision, then observe the following specific
guidelines:
A Guide to Self-Control:
1. Never touch the intimate parts of your body except during normal
toilet processes.
2. Avoid being alone as much as possible. Find good company and stay
in this good company.
3. If you are associated with other persons having this same problem,
YOU MUST BREAK OFF THEIR FRIENDSHIP. Never associate with other people
having the same weakness. Don't suppose that two of you will quit
together, you never will. You must get away from people of that kind.
Just to be in their presence will keep your problem foremost in your
mind. The problem must be taken OUT OF YOUR MIND for that is where it
really exists. Your mind must be on other and more wholesome things.
4. When you bathe, do not admire yourself in a mirror. Never stay in
the bath more than five or six minutes -- just long enough to bathe
and dry and dress AND THEN GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM into a room where
you will have some member of your family present.
5. When in bed, if that is where you have your problem for the most
part, dress yourself for the night so securely that you cannot easily
touch your vital parts, and so that it would be difficult and time
consuming for you to remove those clothes. By the time you started to
remove protective clothing you would have sufficiently controlled your
thinking that the temptation would leave you.
6. If the temptation seems overpowering while you are in bed, GET OUT
OF BED AND GO INTO THE KITCHEN AND FIX YOURSELF A SNACK, even if it is
in the middle of the night, and even if you are not hungry, and
despite your fears of gaining weight. The purpose behind this
suggestion is that you GET YOUR MIND ON SOMETHING ELSE. You are the
subject of your thoughts, so to speak.
7. Never read pornographic material. Never read about your problem.
Keep it out of mind. Remember -- "First a thought, then an act." The
thought pattern must be changed. You must not allow this problem to
remain in your mind. When you accomplish that, you soon will be free
of the act.
8. Put wholesome thoughts into your mind at all times. Read good books
-- Church books -- Scriptures -- Sermons of the Brethern [sic, Cistern
too?]. Make a daily habit of reading at least one chapter of
Scripture, preferably from one of the four Gospels in the New
Testament, or the Book of Mormon. The four Gospels -- Matthew, Mark,
Luke and John -- above anything else in the Bible can be helpful
because of their uplifting qualities.
9. Pray. But when you pray, don't pray about this problem, for that
will tend to keep [it] in your mind more than ever. Pray for faith,
pray for understanding of the Scriptures, pray for the Missionaries,
the General Authorities, your friends, your families, BUT KEEP THE
PROBLEM OUT OF YOUR MIND BY NOT MENTIONING IT EVER -- NOT IN
CONVERSATION WITH OTHERS, NOT IN YOUR PRAYERS. KEEP IT _OUT_ of your
mind!
The attitude of a person toward his problem has an affect [sic] on how
easy it is to overcome. It is essential that a firm commitment be made
to control the habit. As a person understands his reasons for the
behavior, and is sensitive to the conditions or situations that may
trigger a desire for the act, he develops the power to control it.
We are taught that our bodies are temples of God, and are to be clean
so that the Holy Ghost may dwell within us. Masturbation is a sinful
habit that robs one of the Spirit and creates guilt and emotional
stress. It is not physically harmful unless practiced in the extreme.
It is a habit that is totally self-centered, and secretive, and in no
way expresses the proper use of the procreative power given to man to
fulfill eternal purposes. It therefore separates a person from God and
defeats the gospel plan.
This self-gratifying activity will cause one to lose his self-respect
testimony becomes weak, and missionary work and other Church callings
become burdensome, offerings.
To help in planning an effective program to overcome the problem a
brieation is given of how the reproductive organs in a young man
function.
The testes in your body are continually producing hundreds of millions
of reproductive cells call _spermatozoa_. These are moved up a tube
called the _vas deferens_ to a place called the _ampulla_ where they
are mixed with fluids from two membranous pouches called _seminal
vesicles_ and the _prostate gland_. The resultant fluid is
_calleeminal vesicles_ are full a _signa_ to the _central nervous
system_ indicating they are ready to benother, depending on such
things as exercise, state of health, etc. everal times a week, for
others It is normal for the vesicles to be emptied occasionally at
night during the emptying of come from the central nervous system.
Often an erotic dream is experienced at the same time, and is a part
of this normal process. Instead ourse, the reproductive system is
operating at a more rapid pace, trying to keep up with the loss of
semen. When he stops the habit, the body will continue to produce at
his increased rate, for an indefese are not harmful and are to be
endured until the normal central nervous system pathway of rel During
this period of control several things can be done to make the pr As
one meets with his Priesthood Leader, a program for overcoming
masturbation can be implemented using some of t Remember it is
essential that a regular report program be agreed on, so progress can
be recognized and failures understood and eliminated.
Suggestions:
1. Pray daily, ask for the gifts of the Spirit, that which will
strengthen you against temptation. Pray fervently and not lout when
the temptations are the strongest.
2. Follow a program of vigorous daily exercise. The exercises reduce
emotional tension and depression and are absolutely basic to the
solution of this problem. Double your physical activity when you feel
stress increasing.
3. When the temptation to masturbate is strong, yell _STOP_ to those
thoughts as loudly as you can in your mind and then recite a prechosen
Scripture or sing an inspirational hymn. It is important to turn your
thoughts away from the selfish need to indulge.
4. Set goals of abstinence, begin with a day, then a week, month, year
and finally commit to never doing it again. Until you commit yourself
to _never again_ you will always be open to temptation.
5. Change in behavior and attitude is most easily achieved through a
changed self-image. Spend time every day imagining yourself strong and
in control, easily overcoming tempting situations.
6. Begin to work daily on a self-improvement program. Relate this plan
to improving your Church service, to improving your relationships with
your family, God and others. Strive to enhance your strengths and
talents.
7. Be outgoing and friendly. Force yourself to be with others and
learn to enjoy working and talking to them. Use principles of
developing friendships found in books such as _How to Win Friends and
Influence People_ by Dale Carnegie.
8. Be aware of situations that depress you or that cause you to feel
lonely, bored, frustrated or discouraged. These emotional states can
trigger the desire to masturbate as a way of escape. Plan in advance
to counter these low periods through various activities, such as
reading a book, visiting a friend, doing something athletic, etc.
9. Make a pocket calendar for a month on a small card. Carry it with
you, but show it to no one. If you have a lapse of self control, color
the day black. Your goal will be to have _no black days_. The calendar
becomes a strong visual reminder of self control and should be looked
at when you are tempted to add another black day. Keep your calendar
up until you have at least three clear months.
10. A careful study will indicate you have had the problem at certain
times and under certain conditions. Try and recall, in detail, what
your particular times and conditions were. Now that you understand how
it happens, plan to break the pattern through counter activities.
11. In the field of psychotherapy there is a very effective technique
called _aversion therapy_. When we associate or think of something
very distasteful with something which has been pleasurable, but
undesirable, the distasteful thought and feeling will begin to cancel
out that which was pleasurable. If you associate something very
distasteful with your loss of self-control it will help you to stop
the act. For example, if you are tempted to masturbate, think of
having to bathe in a tub of worms, and eat several of them as you do
the act.
12. During your toileting and shower activities leave the bathroom
door or shower curtain partly open, to discourage being alone in total
privacy. Take cool brief showers.
13. Arise immediately in the mornings. Do not lie in bed awake, no
matter what time of day it is. Get up and do something. Start each day
with an enthusiastic activity.
14. Keep your bladder empty. Refrain from drinking large amounts of
fluids before retiring.
15. Reduce the amount of spices and condiments in your food. Eat as
lightly as possible at night.
16. Wear pajamas that are difficult to open, yet loose and not
binding.
17. Avoid people, situations, pictures or reading materials that might
create sexual excitement.
18. It is sometimes helpful to have a physical object to use in
overcoming this problem. A Book of Mormon, firmly held in hand, even
in bed at night has proven helpful in extreme cases.
19. In very severe cases it may be necessary to tie a hand to the bed
frame with a tie in order that the habit of masturbating in a
semi-sleep condition can be broken. This can also be accomplished by
wearing several layers of clothing which would be difficult to remove
while half asleep.
20. Set up a reward system for your successes. It does not have to be
a big reward. A quarter in a receptacle each time you overcome or
reach a goal. Spend it on something which delights you and will be a
continuing reminder of your progress.
21. Do not let yourself return to any past habit or attitude patterns
which were part of your problem. _Satan Never Gives Up_. Be calmly and
confidently on guard. Keep a positive mental attitude. You can win
this fight! The joy and strength you will feel when you do will give
your whole life a radiant and spiritual glow of satisfaction and
fulfillment.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Monday, September 12, 2005
weekend round up
I'd love to comment on the New Orleans Situation, but my bad chemicals are too high as it is. That said, i just finished "Breakfast of Champions," which is in my opinion, Vonnegut's best work. Which means a lot, i think.
The most interesting event of this, a very action packed weekend, occurred at the annual Pig Roast (actually at breakfast the morning after) One of the attendees had brought a lady friend that he met on the internet. They were both pushing middle age and she was a blind Mennonite with a seeing eye dog. After over-hearing some very strange conversation, we were clued into the fact that this women lived all her life in a religious isolation (compounded by the fact that she was nearly blind and had the outside world described to her through a overly oppressive religious filter.) Fed up with the Funk, she decided to free herself and explore the real world. And we all know the real word starts at the internets! (insert "BLIZOW" internet sound effect here)
This dude comes along and somehow she travels from her home state of where-ever to good ol' high-five to the face michigan. This breakfast was her first experience with: bacon, Mountain Dew (which i know i wish i'd never met), the saying "B.S." (and it's accompanying phrase "bull shit"), a description of what a pig looks like and pretty much every second word uttered of mine and my posse's mouth. It was crazy. And the whole time, this helpful dude she's with is explaining the ways of the world; but try to imagine explaining what a pig looks like, and then immediately going into the reason men are called pigs, followed up by a brief analogy of how men like to fix up machines (so they'll be shiny and can be shown off) and women like to fix up men (so they'll be shiny and can be shown off) and the older you get the bigger projects you try to take on.
Eventually someone asks the obvious; Why did you leave home. And before the Mennonite can answer, the proprietor of the pig roast walks by and spouts "to get laid." Which was really funny until the Blind Middle-aged Mennonite agreed. "well that was one of the reasons..."
I think that's when i went off to shoot skeet.
The most interesting event of this, a very action packed weekend, occurred at the annual Pig Roast (actually at breakfast the morning after) One of the attendees had brought a lady friend that he met on the internet. They were both pushing middle age and she was a blind Mennonite with a seeing eye dog. After over-hearing some very strange conversation, we were clued into the fact that this women lived all her life in a religious isolation (compounded by the fact that she was nearly blind and had the outside world described to her through a overly oppressive religious filter.) Fed up with the Funk, she decided to free herself and explore the real world. And we all know the real word starts at the internets! (insert "BLIZOW" internet sound effect here)
This dude comes along and somehow she travels from her home state of where-ever to good ol' high-five to the face michigan. This breakfast was her first experience with: bacon, Mountain Dew (which i know i wish i'd never met), the saying "B.S." (and it's accompanying phrase "bull shit"), a description of what a pig looks like and pretty much every second word uttered of mine and my posse's mouth. It was crazy. And the whole time, this helpful dude she's with is explaining the ways of the world; but try to imagine explaining what a pig looks like, and then immediately going into the reason men are called pigs, followed up by a brief analogy of how men like to fix up machines (so they'll be shiny and can be shown off) and women like to fix up men (so they'll be shiny and can be shown off) and the older you get the bigger projects you try to take on.
Eventually someone asks the obvious; Why did you leave home. And before the Mennonite can answer, the proprietor of the pig roast walks by and spouts "to get laid." Which was really funny until the Blind Middle-aged Mennonite agreed. "well that was one of the reasons..."
I think that's when i went off to shoot skeet.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
right...
though i would rather read Vonnegut and work on the accelerometer, i will share these links with you.
Efforts, though often mis-guided or dense are being made to round up the corpses. I've heard a lot of arguments as to why the shit hit the fan so hard down south. Some say it's because the black folk are treated differently than the white folk, and though i might buy that on a microscopic level, not so much on a large scale. The other reason is because they'se po'. Well, that could explain why so many muthas choose not to leave, but believe me, i'd be walking, running and rolling to avoid eating that shit sandwitch.
Some would argue that there simply exists an element in society that will start fires and shoot helicopters, if that repercussion-less occasion should arise, which i can buy. But then a fella who actually spent some time in the East side explained about the excess avaiability of drugs in that area and how a lot of people are supporting habits that can't be met in red-cross shelters or astro-dome buses. and these folks don't have a means anymore to support those needs and they're going to a little crazy and they're gonna loot a few hospitals and they're gonna shoot some shit.
Probably a combination of the lot.
Use the internet for Non porn purposes
Efforts, though often mis-guided or dense are being made to round up the corpses. I've heard a lot of arguments as to why the shit hit the fan so hard down south. Some say it's because the black folk are treated differently than the white folk, and though i might buy that on a microscopic level, not so much on a large scale. The other reason is because they'se po'. Well, that could explain why so many muthas choose not to leave, but believe me, i'd be walking, running and rolling to avoid eating that shit sandwitch.
Some would argue that there simply exists an element in society that will start fires and shoot helicopters, if that repercussion-less occasion should arise, which i can buy. But then a fella who actually spent some time in the East side explained about the excess avaiability of drugs in that area and how a lot of people are supporting habits that can't be met in red-cross shelters or astro-dome buses. and these folks don't have a means anymore to support those needs and they're going to a little crazy and they're gonna loot a few hospitals and they're gonna shoot some shit.
Probably a combination of the lot.
Use the internet for Non porn purposes
Monday, September 05, 2005
Friday, September 02, 2005
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Mother Nature Strikes Back Again, Again:
Son of Mother Nature's Revenge III Dot com The Movie.
In all fairness, however, these things tend to happen when you live below sea level in a flood plane.
Update: Apparently they have bigger problems than runaway oil rigs down there... sounds like the police have been ordered to stop cutting people out of their flooded attics, (as if they were drowned sailors trapped in the hull of an overturned battleship a la Pearl Harbor) and start patrolling the streets. Seems the gun stores have been thoroughly looted and the shits jumping off like the wicky, wicky, wild west. Armed, hungry and thirsty is no way to go through life son.
think of how fucked this is and remember the tsunami was at least 100 times worse. but in our defense, the americans did add their own flare to this disaster: guns
Update 2: Things are bad in Seattle as well.
In all fairness, however, these things tend to happen when you live below sea level in a flood plane.
Update: Apparently they have bigger problems than runaway oil rigs down there... sounds like the police have been ordered to stop cutting people out of their flooded attics, (as if they were drowned sailors trapped in the hull of an overturned battleship a la Pearl Harbor) and start patrolling the streets. Seems the gun stores have been thoroughly looted and the shits jumping off like the wicky, wicky, wild west. Armed, hungry and thirsty is no way to go through life son.
think of how fucked this is and remember the tsunami was at least 100 times worse. but in our defense, the americans did add their own flare to this disaster: guns
Update 2: Things are bad in Seattle as well.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Sex and Beer, Sex and Beer
are the things we like 'round here
(and gary)
I received a voice mail Friday from my sister wishing me prosperity and happiness for my 25th birthday. I don't remember exactly how it went down, but i distinctly recall some comment to the effect of "you're an old man now." I didn't put much thought into it at the time since Holly and I were speeding our way to Housemate Jon's cottage in mid-michigan, listening to old-school hip-hop on the MP3 box.
you see, folks, with a spotty weather report and few ends in my fold, i wasnt expecting much more than a chill weekend with some beers and friends. What i got was a classic crazy-as-shit-fun weekend reminiscent of college, and as intense as any impromptu gathering i have ever been a part of. And even better was the natural, flowing groove of the whole event, unforced in every way.
Now as i sit here, sipping from my sweaty Labatt Blue can and listening to Kenny Rankin, i don't feel like an old man. In fact. I feel like a million dollars. So i guess the point is, here i am: armed with my monkey boxers and a million dollar smile, and I'm sure as shit looking forward to the next 25 years.
(and gary)
I received a voice mail Friday from my sister wishing me prosperity and happiness for my 25th birthday. I don't remember exactly how it went down, but i distinctly recall some comment to the effect of "you're an old man now." I didn't put much thought into it at the time since Holly and I were speeding our way to Housemate Jon's cottage in mid-michigan, listening to old-school hip-hop on the MP3 box.
you see, folks, with a spotty weather report and few ends in my fold, i wasnt expecting much more than a chill weekend with some beers and friends. What i got was a classic crazy-as-shit-fun weekend reminiscent of college, and as intense as any impromptu gathering i have ever been a part of. And even better was the natural, flowing groove of the whole event, unforced in every way.
Now as i sit here, sipping from my sweaty Labatt Blue can and listening to Kenny Rankin, i don't feel like an old man. In fact. I feel like a million dollars. So i guess the point is, here i am: armed with my monkey boxers and a million dollar smile, and I'm sure as shit looking forward to the next 25 years.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
darkness sets in...
my oil pressure gauge is leaking oil.
my accelerometer has a short and is burning up chips.
my helicopter is grounded until replacement part arrive.
it's the engineer's low. time for an idea beer.
my accelerometer has a short and is burning up chips.
my helicopter is grounded until replacement part arrive.
it's the engineer's low. time for an idea beer.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Friday, August 19, 2005
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Computer Love
Computerized (Digital love)
Computerized
Oh, baby
A beautiful love
Computer love {Computer, computer love}
Computer love {Lookin� for my computer love}
Computer love {Hey}
Computer love {Computer love}
You know I�ve been searching for someone
Who can share that special love with me
And your eyes have that glow
Could it be your face I see on my computer screen
Need a special girl (Ooh, yeah)
To share in my computer world
I no longer need a strategy
Thanks to modern technology
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop [I wanna love you, baby] computer love
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop my computer love
You know I�ve been around
From hot sexy mamas to cool Prima Donnas
I wanna share your treasure, oh, so rare
�Cause it�s your face I see on my computer screen
Oh, won�t you keep me warm tonight
You are such a sweet delight
I will cherish the memory of this night
Yes, I found my computer love
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop [I wanna love you, baby] computer love
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop my computer love
Digital love {Digital love}
Computer love {Computer love}
Digital love {Digital love}
A beautiful love {Beautiful love}
A digital love {Digital love}
Digital love {Digital love}
{It�s just computer digital beautiful, beautiful love}
You are my computer love (Hey...hey...)
You are my computer love (My computer love)
You are my computer love (My computer love)
Yes, I found my computer love
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop computer love {Shooby doo doo doo}
You are {Shooby doo doo doo}, you are
{Doo doo doo doo doo computer}
You are {Do we mean it}, you are {Do we mean it, eee}
You are, you are {Do we feel it, yeah}
You are {Feel it}, you are
You are, you are {You, oh...}
You are {Do}, you are {I know}
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop computer love {Computer}
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
{I love you}
Shooby doo bop computer love {Computer love}
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
{I love you, oh...}
You are {Shooby dee da doo}, you are
{Shooby dee da doo doo de doo doo doo computer}
You are {Do we mean it}, you are {Do we mean it}
You are {Do we mean it, do we, baby}, you are
{Do we, baby, baby, baby, baby, yeah}
Computerized
Oh, baby
A beautiful love
Computer love {Computer, computer love}
Computer love {Lookin� for my computer love}
Computer love {Hey}
Computer love {Computer love}
You know I�ve been searching for someone
Who can share that special love with me
And your eyes have that glow
Could it be your face I see on my computer screen
Need a special girl (Ooh, yeah)
To share in my computer world
I no longer need a strategy
Thanks to modern technology
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop [I wanna love you, baby] computer love
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop my computer love
You know I�ve been around
From hot sexy mamas to cool Prima Donnas
I wanna share your treasure, oh, so rare
�Cause it�s your face I see on my computer screen
Oh, won�t you keep me warm tonight
You are such a sweet delight
I will cherish the memory of this night
Yes, I found my computer love
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop [I wanna love you, baby] computer love
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop my computer love
Digital love {Digital love}
Computer love {Computer love}
Digital love {Digital love}
A beautiful love {Beautiful love}
A digital love {Digital love}
Digital love {Digital love}
{It�s just computer digital beautiful, beautiful love}
You are my computer love (Hey...hey...)
You are my computer love (My computer love)
You are my computer love (My computer love)
Yes, I found my computer love
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop computer love {Shooby doo doo doo}
You are {Shooby doo doo doo}, you are
{Doo doo doo doo doo computer}
You are {Do we mean it}, you are {Do we mean it, eee}
You are, you are {Do we feel it, yeah}
You are {Feel it}, you are
You are, you are {You, oh...}
You are {Do}, you are {I know}
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
Shooby doo bop computer love {Computer}
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
{I love you}
Shooby doo bop computer love {Computer love}
Shooby doo bop shoo doo bop I wanna love you
{I love you, oh...}
You are {Shooby dee da doo}, you are
{Shooby dee da doo doo de doo doo doo computer}
You are {Do we mean it}, you are {Do we mean it}
You are {Do we mean it, do we, baby}, you are
{Do we, baby, baby, baby, baby, yeah}
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
so busy... so sleepy
helicopter update: installed carbon fiber rotors, flew like a champ, bent my main shaft. Parts in the mail.
accelerometer update: prototyping complete, software issues to be resolved, testing underway. Parts in the mail.
female robot update: real girls smell better, and until A.I. revolution, are better at the art of seduction. Parts, however, still in the mail.
accelerometer update: prototyping complete, software issues to be resolved, testing underway. Parts in the mail.
female robot update: real girls smell better, and until A.I. revolution, are better at the art of seduction. Parts, however, still in the mail.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Nerd up
i have exploded into the geek world this week. firstly, RC stuff has always been cool, but more recently, fairly affordable. With these two truths in full effect, i bought meself a ready-to-fly, fully functionally, 6 channel remote controlled helicopter.
Holly, if you're reading this, Scotter made me do it. He does, after all, make more money than me. And now, for Nick's Sake, some provocative shots of the beast undressed...
>
Oh... it seems to have fallen out of it's wears... Any pilot worth his salt will notice that those rotors are about 20% shorter than they should be. Well, fuck. I'm here to tell you it ain't easy to fly one of these bastards. So i suspect when i'm done typing here i'll shoot up to the local torture and hobby store to get some new rotors.
the drive around town will give housemate and I a chance to test out accelerometer v.1.0. I'm really having fun with this one...
Stealing my inspiration from the internet (housemate on software, me on hardware), we used a microprocessor to read the analog output of an accelerometer. The accelerometer is a one chip design that measures +/- 2.5 G's on the two axis parallel to the chip itself. The processor uses it's internal analog to digital converter (ADC) to average and display these values real time. It will also hold the max value at any given time for about 1.2 seconds, so you can easily read off peak values as you're, for example, evading police interrogation in your highly modified, bullet proff caddy. Expect great things from this project in the future...
These are the projects that make life fun for an engineer who's real-life job involves pushin' too many pencils.
Holly, if you're reading this, Scotter made me do it. He does, after all, make more money than me. And now, for Nick's Sake, some provocative shots of the beast undressed...
Oh... it seems to have fallen out of it's wears... Any pilot worth his salt will notice that those rotors are about 20% shorter than they should be. Well, fuck. I'm here to tell you it ain't easy to fly one of these bastards. So i suspect when i'm done typing here i'll shoot up to the local torture and hobby store to get some new rotors.
the drive around town will give housemate and I a chance to test out accelerometer v.1.0. I'm really having fun with this one...
Stealing my inspiration from the internet (housemate on software, me on hardware), we used a microprocessor to read the analog output of an accelerometer. The accelerometer is a one chip design that measures +/- 2.5 G's on the two axis parallel to the chip itself. The processor uses it's internal analog to digital converter (ADC) to average and display these values real time. It will also hold the max value at any given time for about 1.2 seconds, so you can easily read off peak values as you're, for example, evading police interrogation in your highly modified, bullet proff caddy. Expect great things from this project in the future...
These are the projects that make life fun for an engineer who's real-life job involves pushin' too many pencils.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
tastes like burning
I work in detroit.
Every person in south east michigan has at some point in their life, to simplify the mental geography of another, has claimed to "live/work in detroit" but i am blessed to be one of the few that actually lives or works within the city limits.
(detroit train station- well ventilated)
I'm being facetious.
No body is blessed in this city. Detroit is easily the most blown-out, blight-ridden, decayed, over-grown and hopeless-for-recovery of all the major cities of the U.S. Fuck "over there," this is a third word country. I'm convinced that every person who has business in this city is tied down by some force out of their control; Be it family, work or a missing limb.
My office is on a fairly major road and i travel approximately 2 miles on that road, between the building and the freeway i take to get there. There's at least a dozen boarded-up, abandoned, or empty building on that stretch. This includes a former car wash, former grocery store, former fast food restaurant and several other "former" buildings all nicely mixed in between the several bars (at least one of the strip variety), day care and McDonald's that remain. Keep in mind, I work at a major office (read: thousands of employees) and we're surrounded by ghetto. I'm talking walking skeletons with bad hair and broken sunglasses wondering the streets- ghetto.
The strangest part is, people from Detroit don't really understand how bad it is. I mean, again, no one is FROM Detroit, just the suburbs. And everyone knows you shouldn't go into the city, lest you be filming robot-cop III. But it's just accepted as... Detroit. Yet, today, i was listening to an Iranian and a French-Canadian discuss their impressions of the city and it was like they had landed on the moon. It was a joke here to them; there's nothing to do and no place to go.
I'm sick of this topic. I'm moving to Colorado.
Note: There are many websites dealing with "detroit urban exploring" in the many abandoned Detroit structures
http://forgottenmichigan.com/gallery/AdamsTheater
http://forgottenmichigan.com/gallery/UE
http://www.detroitblog.org/index.php?paged=3
Every person in south east michigan has at some point in their life, to simplify the mental geography of another, has claimed to "live/work in detroit" but i am blessed to be one of the few that actually lives or works within the city limits.
(detroit train station- well ventilated)
I'm being facetious.
No body is blessed in this city. Detroit is easily the most blown-out, blight-ridden, decayed, over-grown and hopeless-for-recovery of all the major cities of the U.S. Fuck "over there," this is a third word country. I'm convinced that every person who has business in this city is tied down by some force out of their control; Be it family, work or a missing limb.
My office is on a fairly major road and i travel approximately 2 miles on that road, between the building and the freeway i take to get there. There's at least a dozen boarded-up, abandoned, or empty building on that stretch. This includes a former car wash, former grocery store, former fast food restaurant and several other "former" buildings all nicely mixed in between the several bars (at least one of the strip variety), day care and McDonald's that remain. Keep in mind, I work at a major office (read: thousands of employees) and we're surrounded by ghetto. I'm talking walking skeletons with bad hair and broken sunglasses wondering the streets- ghetto.
The strangest part is, people from Detroit don't really understand how bad it is. I mean, again, no one is FROM Detroit, just the suburbs. And everyone knows you shouldn't go into the city, lest you be filming robot-cop III. But it's just accepted as... Detroit. Yet, today, i was listening to an Iranian and a French-Canadian discuss their impressions of the city and it was like they had landed on the moon. It was a joke here to them; there's nothing to do and no place to go.
I'm sick of this topic. I'm moving to Colorado.
Note: There are many websites dealing with "detroit urban exploring" in the many abandoned Detroit structures
http://forgottenmichigan.com/gallery/AdamsTheater
http://forgottenmichigan.com/gallery/UE
http://www.detroitblog.org/index.php?paged=3
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
FI-YAR!
Seems the town two over is burning down. Damn you refinery! you win again... (when will they learn!?)
[drops to knees, beats ground with fists]
Incidentally, while searching for web info pertaining to the massive toxic chemical fire that was burning out of control, i couldn't get past the stories surrounding the local stabbing and shootings... check it out.
If you REALLY want to piss some people off:
[drops to knees, beats ground with fists]
Incidentally, while searching for web info pertaining to the massive toxic chemical fire that was burning out of control, i couldn't get past the stories surrounding the local stabbing and shootings... check it out.
If you REALLY want to piss some people off:
Friday, August 05, 2005
Thursday, August 04, 2005
i wish i had some substance to this empty post.
let's recap...
I found my keys for all those of you who were holding vigil. On the plus side, we can cancel that bulk order of "find them keys" yellow ribbon magnets.
I'm beginning to realize that every meeting at work will inevitably end by unanimously deciding that the issue at hand cannot be resolved and will need to be passed on to some other schmuck that couldn't attend today's meeting because he's busy at some other meeting. I think there's only like 7 people who make decision around there.
Chest finally manned up and got internet access so there should be a massive increase in indiscernible posts and off-topic responses.
I installed my oil pressure gauge and electronic scan tool that reads off the car's computer. unfortunately the scan tool wasn't allowing the ECU-bus of the pontiac to go into sleep mode when the car was off and drained my battery into a toxic-lead paper weight. (ever hear the joke about the battery engineer with the dead battery?) I'm waiting for the manufacturer to mail it back to me.
The Pelvic Queen had an interview that could put her into the heart of the auto industry and the bowels of Detroit. But i repeat myself.
Finally, i learned a new phrase at work, "surfacing the Issues," which is a real passive way of saying "This is what sucks about you and the work you're doing, but i'm just saying, ya know?"
I found my keys for all those of you who were holding vigil. On the plus side, we can cancel that bulk order of "find them keys" yellow ribbon magnets.
I'm beginning to realize that every meeting at work will inevitably end by unanimously deciding that the issue at hand cannot be resolved and will need to be passed on to some other schmuck that couldn't attend today's meeting because he's busy at some other meeting. I think there's only like 7 people who make decision around there.
Chest finally manned up and got internet access so there should be a massive increase in indiscernible posts and off-topic responses.
I installed my oil pressure gauge and electronic scan tool that reads off the car's computer. unfortunately the scan tool wasn't allowing the ECU-bus of the pontiac to go into sleep mode when the car was off and drained my battery into a toxic-lead paper weight. (ever hear the joke about the battery engineer with the dead battery?) I'm waiting for the manufacturer to mail it back to me.
The Pelvic Queen had an interview that could put her into the heart of the auto industry and the bowels of Detroit. But i repeat myself.
Finally, i learned a new phrase at work, "surfacing the Issues," which is a real passive way of saying "This is what sucks about you and the work you're doing, but i'm just saying, ya know?"
Monday, August 01, 2005
where the fuck are my keys?
the world has taken a series of shits in my soup today, and tho i can normally weather these frustrating events fairly well, i feel like smashing something beautiful.
I am Curt's furious anger.
I am Curt's furious anger.
Friday, July 29, 2005
"Daddy ruined xmas!"
Today one man lost his job so mine could be spared; Pink slip friday strikes again. The ruthlessness of the business world is a commonly known tail, especially so to the white collar folk working in the city of detroit, but today i saw it first hand. One man had to go and there were three contract workers in the group. As the youngest, newest and least experienced member of the group, i dodged a bullet i never knew was coming. Joe-worker on the other hand gets to go home and tell his wife and kids that he's been granted an extended vacation. "No Billy, Daddy doesn't go to work anymore. The new guy at the office took my job and we can't afford your prosthetic leg."
The only reason i knew the whole thing was about to go down, was so i would attempt to pick up his notes in preparation of taking over his work load. somebody actually wanted me to wonder over and nonchalantly scam him for data before he was told today was his last day. As it turns out, it didn't matter; from the looks of things, his desk remains as it was moments before the bad news came, sans the photos of his over weight kids. (all limbs intact, if i remember correctly.)
You see, no-one knew exactly when he would get the news, since as a contract worker, it is the responsibility of the contracting organization, or "house" to tell the poor employee that his contract was expired. "Open ended," don't you know. And sometimes, such as in this case, the supervisor chooses not to forewarn the employee or even take part in the conversation at all. In fact, Joe-worker was gone forever before the supervisor returned to the office. Maybe they think it's safer that way.
There's a lot to be learned from all this. I'm too tired to expand on it all.
The only reason i knew the whole thing was about to go down, was so i would attempt to pick up his notes in preparation of taking over his work load. somebody actually wanted me to wonder over and nonchalantly scam him for data before he was told today was his last day. As it turns out, it didn't matter; from the looks of things, his desk remains as it was moments before the bad news came, sans the photos of his over weight kids. (all limbs intact, if i remember correctly.)
You see, no-one knew exactly when he would get the news, since as a contract worker, it is the responsibility of the contracting organization, or "house" to tell the poor employee that his contract was expired. "Open ended," don't you know. And sometimes, such as in this case, the supervisor chooses not to forewarn the employee or even take part in the conversation at all. In fact, Joe-worker was gone forever before the supervisor returned to the office. Maybe they think it's safer that way.
There's a lot to be learned from all this. I'm too tired to expand on it all.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Stolen joke Day!
Two antennas meet on a roof, fall in love and get married.
The ceremony wasn't much, but the reception was excellent.
Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar.
One says, "I've lost my electron."
The other says, "Are you sure?"
The first replies, "Yes, I'm positive..."
A jumper cable walks into a bar.
The bartender says, "I'll serve you, but don't start anything."
"Doc, I can't stop singing 'The Green, Green Grass of Home. '"
"That sounds like Tom Jones Syndrome."
"Is it common?"
"It's Not Unusual."
A man takes his Rottweiler to the vet and says, "My dog's cross-eyed, is there any thing you can do for him?"
"Well," says the vet, "let's have a look at him." So he picks the dog up and examines his eyes.
Finally, he says, "I'm going to have to put him down."
"What? Because he's cross-eyed?"
"No, because he's really heavy."
I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day but I couldn't find any.
I went to the butcher's the other day to bet him 50 bucks that he couldn't reach the meat off the top shelf.
He said, "No, the steaks are too high."
The ceremony wasn't much, but the reception was excellent.
Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar.
One says, "I've lost my electron."
The other says, "Are you sure?"
The first replies, "Yes, I'm positive..."
A jumper cable walks into a bar.
The bartender says, "I'll serve you, but don't start anything."
"Doc, I can't stop singing 'The Green, Green Grass of Home. '"
"That sounds like Tom Jones Syndrome."
"Is it common?"
"It's Not Unusual."
A man takes his Rottweiler to the vet and says, "My dog's cross-eyed, is there any thing you can do for him?"
"Well," says the vet, "let's have a look at him." So he picks the dog up and examines his eyes.
Finally, he says, "I'm going to have to put him down."
"What? Because he's cross-eyed?"
"No, because he's really heavy."
I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day but I couldn't find any.
I went to the butcher's the other day to bet him 50 bucks that he couldn't reach the meat off the top shelf.
He said, "No, the steaks are too high."
Monday, July 25, 2005
rice eater
three words and a letter: "A-pillar gauge pod." The Pontiac is gonna rock out with it's cock out.
next stop: neons. Can you say "Cadillac II; Son of Cadillac?"
(at this point it seems that i should proclaim some hopeless lust, such as "i need a woman" or "I need a hobby" or "I should go back to taking my pills" to keep me from haphazardly dispensing funds on such silly things. But i'm won't.)
(geitar-a still for sale)
next stop: neons. Can you say "Cadillac II; Son of Cadillac?"
(at this point it seems that i should proclaim some hopeless lust, such as "i need a woman" or "I need a hobby" or "I should go back to taking my pills" to keep me from haphazardly dispensing funds on such silly things. But i'm won't.)
(geitar-a still for sale)
Sunday, July 24, 2005
worms in my brain get them out
i thought this was some kind of joke. guess not. (if you're not a mistress of the technology, you ain't gona appreciate it.)
Thursday, July 21, 2005
FOR SALE
-guitar
-wood, six string, acoustic
-digital tuner, soft case and some "learn to play book"
Any takers?
Probably worth about $100, but i'm just looking for enough money to get myself and two petite women drunk... with a quarter to spare. (I should have bought this earlier in my college career, when time was like beer, flowing free and dense)
If you're not interested, enjoy this amusing internet photo instead.
-wood, six string, acoustic
-digital tuner, soft case and some "learn to play book"
Any takers?
Probably worth about $100, but i'm just looking for enough money to get myself and two petite women drunk... with a quarter to spare. (I should have bought this earlier in my college career, when time was like beer, flowing free and dense)
If you're not interested, enjoy this amusing internet photo instead.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
mortality strikes again, again
As you've all probably pieced together from the last few mumblings, the Hubbel Street Bar is Dead. There's not enough room here to recount the whole history and I'm not going to get into the reasons why it's gone now. nstead, let me take you on a journey, if you will: The story of the a bar, a boy and a dream.
(Note lower left, the folding bar top that is hinged and hanging but at no point, to my knowledge, was NEVER equipped with a mechanism that would hold that piece upright and thereby rendering it useable. Note also the cobbled together collection of bar stools and high ratio of Liquor To Shelf Space or LTSS.)
It was a quiet, hot summer in Houghton that the bar was born. That's when Ace Hardbody and I were jogging heartily through the woods and happened upon a top from an old science lab table made of that heavy, fire-proof and nary impenetrable material you all remember from chemistry class. What it was doing out there, alone and away from it's family, we had no clue; but at some 2 feet wide by 8 feet long we immediately saw the hundreds of applications such an objected offered. And the one use that mattered. With nothing but time to kill, we immediately put on our thinking caps and launched into action a three man plan that would requisition our new found piece, under the cover of darkness and with the power of whiskey. And just as it's tattooed on my ass, "We carried that 150lb slab, drunk, through 3 miles of forest with nothing but our BAL and wits to get us through." The rest, couldn't have been easier.
To pass the time during the initial construction phase, we set out to drink one (or actually, at least six) of every type of beer sold in the metro-Houghton area. I think some people there might be drunks.
Bar version 1.0 featured an albino AND a woman.
Eventually, thanks to the work of our bearded friend T-bone, we managed to scam some more bar top material, this time made of a stone material, but originally designed for the purpose. This was a two piece addition and featured the help of a pick-u truck. The existing section was rotated 90 degrees and shifted so to allow the wider, newer section to serve as "the main bar." Oh, and also, "dinner table," "guest bed," "work desk," and "dance floor." I'd post some of those dance floor shot, but uh, my lawyers advised against it.
The bar gets long, bent and a few new keepers. Note the "Malt Duck" sign amid the VERT high assortment of bar paraphernalia.
So that's the story of the bar. Or at least the parts that can be retold here without incriminating, embarrassing or condemning those of us that lived it. The rest of the story require a dank room with booze and stools to be retold. And remember, I'm not trying to live in the past; the moral of the story is simple. If ever given the chance, you should all rent an old house, dump an absurd percentage of your total yearly income into an extremely traditional and extravagant bar, and surround yourself with tremendous group of drunkards with which to live out your "cheers" fantasizes. Then get blown out. Also, drive a Cadillac.
(Note lower left, the folding bar top that is hinged and hanging but at no point, to my knowledge, was NEVER equipped with a mechanism that would hold that piece upright and thereby rendering it useable. Note also the cobbled together collection of bar stools and high ratio of Liquor To Shelf Space or LTSS.)
It was a quiet, hot summer in Houghton that the bar was born. That's when Ace Hardbody and I were jogging heartily through the woods and happened upon a top from an old science lab table made of that heavy, fire-proof and nary impenetrable material you all remember from chemistry class. What it was doing out there, alone and away from it's family, we had no clue; but at some 2 feet wide by 8 feet long we immediately saw the hundreds of applications such an objected offered. And the one use that mattered. With nothing but time to kill, we immediately put on our thinking caps and launched into action a three man plan that would requisition our new found piece, under the cover of darkness and with the power of whiskey. And just as it's tattooed on my ass, "We carried that 150lb slab, drunk, through 3 miles of forest with nothing but our BAL and wits to get us through." The rest, couldn't have been easier.
To pass the time during the initial construction phase, we set out to drink one (or actually, at least six) of every type of beer sold in the metro-Houghton area. I think some people there might be drunks.
Bar version 1.0 featured an albino AND a woman.
Eventually, thanks to the work of our bearded friend T-bone, we managed to scam some more bar top material, this time made of a stone material, but originally designed for the purpose. This was a two piece addition and featured the help of a pick-u truck. The existing section was rotated 90 degrees and shifted so to allow the wider, newer section to serve as "the main bar." Oh, and also, "dinner table," "guest bed," "work desk," and "dance floor." I'd post some of those dance floor shot, but uh, my lawyers advised against it.
The bar gets long, bent and a few new keepers. Note the "Malt Duck" sign amid the VERT high assortment of bar paraphernalia.
So that's the story of the bar. Or at least the parts that can be retold here without incriminating, embarrassing or condemning those of us that lived it. The rest of the story require a dank room with booze and stools to be retold. And remember, I'm not trying to live in the past; the moral of the story is simple. If ever given the chance, you should all rent an old house, dump an absurd percentage of your total yearly income into an extremely traditional and extravagant bar, and surround yourself with tremendous group of drunkards with which to live out your "cheers" fantasizes. Then get blown out. Also, drive a Cadillac.
Monday, July 18, 2005
The sophist promise
It has been deemed that any one-sentence combination of the words "I," "gave," "her" and "a" is the work of people that hate america and hate freedom. Therefor, consider the war on terr'r under way.
Now to distract you from this new reduction in civil liberty: cartoon breasts
Now to distract you from this new reduction in civil liberty: cartoon breasts
Saturday, July 16, 2005
mortality strikes again
Tuesday my aunt (actually mother's cousin) died. I only mention it here because she was an extremely unusual personality, in that she was giving and selfless almost to a fault. Before she retired a few years ago, she was a social worker for the state of Michigan, working in the city of Detroit. Read that part again. She was a white woman working as a social worker in Detroit. Right. She lived most of her life just off Clark street which is on the out skirts of Mexican Town and just off I-75. Eventually she moved out to the suburbs but continued to attend church and be active in the city.
She lived alone after her mother died; she was never married. She loved to order merchandise from QVC (home shopping network), most of which would end up as gifts to friends and family. Distant relatives, their children, old coworkers and even their children: No birthday's were forgotten. Everyone could count on a gift or a bit of cash on their birthday and Xmas. The remainder of those packages from QVC would likely contain a stuffed bear of some type, as she loved to collect them and filled her house with them.
She died young and suddenly; she had leukemia. But as she would never go to the doctor and didn't dare mention what ailed, pained or troubled her, no on knew she was sick. In fact, she herself probably never knew the extent or nature of her disease. More likely than not, she felt a lot of pain near the end of her life but she was not willing to share it.
And now there is a big hole that has been left in the world.
She was buried with her bear. There was a box from QVC waiting on her porch.
She lived alone after her mother died; she was never married. She loved to order merchandise from QVC (home shopping network), most of which would end up as gifts to friends and family. Distant relatives, their children, old coworkers and even their children: No birthday's were forgotten. Everyone could count on a gift or a bit of cash on their birthday and Xmas. The remainder of those packages from QVC would likely contain a stuffed bear of some type, as she loved to collect them and filled her house with them.
She died young and suddenly; she had leukemia. But as she would never go to the doctor and didn't dare mention what ailed, pained or troubled her, no on knew she was sick. In fact, she herself probably never knew the extent or nature of her disease. More likely than not, she felt a lot of pain near the end of her life but she was not willing to share it.
And now there is a big hole that has been left in the world.
She was buried with her bear. There was a box from QVC waiting on her porch.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Internet play time!
Here we go again...
All ya'll people that went to tech with me, recognize anyone in this here campus page? (if you're real hardcore, you'll also notice they copied exactly what i did for the lode months before i gradated, camera angle and all)
Speaking of Tech, you guys probably thought Guts Frisbee was a dead religion, like the snake charmers. You're wrong about both.
And finally, This link has a strange way of making me feel like a sexists pig, though i'm pretty sure there's noting wrong with it... it's just odd. (click on the woman and drag her around for entertainment)
All ya'll people that went to tech with me, recognize anyone in this here campus page? (if you're real hardcore, you'll also notice they copied exactly what i did for the lode months before i gradated, camera angle and all)
Speaking of Tech, you guys probably thought Guts Frisbee was a dead religion, like the snake charmers. You're wrong about both.
And finally, This link has a strange way of making me feel like a sexists pig, though i'm pretty sure there's noting wrong with it... it's just odd. (click on the woman and drag her around for entertainment)
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
hello little robot buddy
in college i built a robot insect. It's a beetle looking device that fits easily in the palm of one's hand but would be difficult to balance on anything less than three fingers. The bug, who is nameless, is solar powered by two cells that cover his back. he has two antenna on front that keep him off the walls and two eyes to direct him towards light. As my desk at work is void of all personal objects, i brought the little guy in to keep me company. unfortunately there's not nearly enough ambient light to charge his capacitor and trigger his activation voltage. Likewise, my florescent desk lamp is weak and diffused, so the creature sits motionless. I wait and look on, hoping the poor creature will evolve, buy everyday i come in and everyday it has not moved. In the mean time, I'll be taking recommendations for names.
Friday, July 08, 2005
bizarre-o world?
Took a nap earlier; can't sleep now. I opened my eyes while laying in bed and with room being all dark and whatnot, i was very confused for an instant: I was expecting my room from college, then my old room from my parent's house. It was odd and made me a little reminiscent.
I spent my day today in an assembly plant in Detroit. The majority of the time was invested discussing life at the company with an old time engineer who had at one point retired to Florida, but then got called back to be a contract worker. (i guess he was good, so like Superman and George Foreman, they called him out of retirement) I learned more about my job and the company in 4 hours than i had in the past three weeks. This guy had it all nailed down; he could walk through a plant one time, listen to the sounds and watch the people work and tell you exactly how efficiently the place was running. He's been back in the game for a month and can already pin down every guy in the office; what motivates him and what's his agenda. He knows the game the union workers play, and as an old supervisor and worker himself, he's seen all the angles. He's an engineer so he's planted in one of the main offices, but he's at home in the assembly plants, interacting the people who build the product. And most folks in the plant take to him like they would any friendly old man, which is contrary to the typical worker/engineer feudal system. The best part is, he's out there, accessible and willing to give all he knows to anyone who would be interested.
We talked about company engineers and the faux notion that they "design" a product. The reality is, no one designs a circuit; a supplier engineer clones a design from clone from clone that was designed by an Asia-man. They package it into a universal module with specs that can fulfill 78% of all application. A team of electrical engineers who don't even need to know what an electron is (in our company now) are handed a set of general requirements from some higher up and then develop specific sets of specs for say, a switch or Nav System. These specs are pumped to the supplier, who in turn throws back at them a black box that is probably utilized by some other companies in various applications. The engineers take the module, which is perhaps needing 2/3 of it's capabilities (maybe we'll use that other 1/3 later, in next year's model) and if need be tweaks the design. (i.e. pumps a redefined set of specs back to the supplier who then either reprograms the black box or pulls a different box off the shelf). With the boxes in place, we tie them together and test the shit of them, reworking the iterations and driving the error towards zero again and again until you run out of time.
As for the old engineer, he claims 30 years since he last designed a circuit that was bread-boarded, printed and then evaluated to make it's way into a product; He used a slide rule last time he needed to derive a value. I'm entering into the realm of speculation now, but i figure this is why he likes to spend time in the plants. Since we're not the guys making the sexy drawings, this is the last venue for him to put his influence on the final product, i suppose. He identifies where the process is failing and fixes it. Quality issues for part X go down. And that is truly the name of the game now; Quality. Quality is directly measured in money and vice versa, and both are easily represented on a piece of paper. I'm not disheartened. I suspect i was saved when any preconceptions i had about all this died years ago. It's just, i guess, you can't really wrap yourself around what it's all about in a company this big until you're in it. The reality is, no one truly understands the process; too much information.
I spent my day today in an assembly plant in Detroit. The majority of the time was invested discussing life at the company with an old time engineer who had at one point retired to Florida, but then got called back to be a contract worker. (i guess he was good, so like Superman and George Foreman, they called him out of retirement) I learned more about my job and the company in 4 hours than i had in the past three weeks. This guy had it all nailed down; he could walk through a plant one time, listen to the sounds and watch the people work and tell you exactly how efficiently the place was running. He's been back in the game for a month and can already pin down every guy in the office; what motivates him and what's his agenda. He knows the game the union workers play, and as an old supervisor and worker himself, he's seen all the angles. He's an engineer so he's planted in one of the main offices, but he's at home in the assembly plants, interacting the people who build the product. And most folks in the plant take to him like they would any friendly old man, which is contrary to the typical worker/engineer feudal system. The best part is, he's out there, accessible and willing to give all he knows to anyone who would be interested.
We talked about company engineers and the faux notion that they "design" a product. The reality is, no one designs a circuit; a supplier engineer clones a design from clone from clone that was designed by an Asia-man. They package it into a universal module with specs that can fulfill 78% of all application. A team of electrical engineers who don't even need to know what an electron is (in our company now) are handed a set of general requirements from some higher up and then develop specific sets of specs for say, a switch or Nav System. These specs are pumped to the supplier, who in turn throws back at them a black box that is probably utilized by some other companies in various applications. The engineers take the module, which is perhaps needing 2/3 of it's capabilities (maybe we'll use that other 1/3 later, in next year's model) and if need be tweaks the design. (i.e. pumps a redefined set of specs back to the supplier who then either reprograms the black box or pulls a different box off the shelf). With the boxes in place, we tie them together and test the shit of them, reworking the iterations and driving the error towards zero again and again until you run out of time.
As for the old engineer, he claims 30 years since he last designed a circuit that was bread-boarded, printed and then evaluated to make it's way into a product; He used a slide rule last time he needed to derive a value. I'm entering into the realm of speculation now, but i figure this is why he likes to spend time in the plants. Since we're not the guys making the sexy drawings, this is the last venue for him to put his influence on the final product, i suppose. He identifies where the process is failing and fixes it. Quality issues for part X go down. And that is truly the name of the game now; Quality. Quality is directly measured in money and vice versa, and both are easily represented on a piece of paper. I'm not disheartened. I suspect i was saved when any preconceptions i had about all this died years ago. It's just, i guess, you can't really wrap yourself around what it's all about in a company this big until you're in it. The reality is, no one truly understands the process; too much information.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
watchin' the game, having a bud
We're all completely fucked. And i didn't even mention the summit.
But hen again, Maybe we're not.
either way, i'm so sleepy...
But hen again, Maybe we're not.
either way, i'm so sleepy...
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Monday, July 04, 2005
"peace be with you, yuppie-scum bastard"
I spent the weekend in Suttons Bay, attending a wedding in a highly affluent little peninsula just north of Traverse City. It's been a long time since we played the "out of ten" game and since I'm lazy about typing and think myself a pretty darn funny guy, here we go:
Crazy, old, gay, New York Playwright, Uncle of the groom embarrassing bride by naming her old boyfriends as part of rambling but very comedic reception half-time speech: 8/10
Catholic mass wedding ceremony: 0/10
Drinking champaign in your hotel room out of plastic hotel cups: 7/10
Letting the champaign work it's bubbly magic: 9/10
Live R&B/Mo-Town Band of black men in shiny suits entertaining an all-white reception with uber-hits like Will Smith's "miami" and "Too Close" by... is it Next? Anyway: 10/10
7ft tall basketball player for Serbian Basketball League attending wedding, insisting Darko "good player, not respected by coach:" 5/10
Live fireworks: 1/10
Andrew's assessment of my role in life (see title): 2/10
My assessment of owning a sailboat: 10/10
Crazy, old, gay, New York Playwright, Uncle of the groom embarrassing bride by naming her old boyfriends as part of rambling but very comedic reception half-time speech: 8/10
Catholic mass wedding ceremony: 0/10
Drinking champaign in your hotel room out of plastic hotel cups: 7/10
Letting the champaign work it's bubbly magic: 9/10
Live R&B/Mo-Town Band of black men in shiny suits entertaining an all-white reception with uber-hits like Will Smith's "miami" and "Too Close" by... is it Next? Anyway: 10/10
7ft tall basketball player for Serbian Basketball League attending wedding, insisting Darko "good player, not respected by coach:" 5/10
Live fireworks: 1/10
Andrew's assessment of my role in life (see title): 2/10
My assessment of owning a sailboat: 10/10
Thursday, June 30, 2005
back to my roots
now i remember why i wanted this job.... i saw the new Jeep Commander yesterday at work. I think it comes out next month and it looks very much like the old cherokees, though fatter and a little more bulbous on the rear roof line. I still like the new hummer h3 more than any other small/mid size truck. It reminds me of an older willies jeep. If i was a truck person, that's what i'd drive. Or an ice cream truck.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
quick thoughts
if i had access to all of the internets while at work, i'd spend my days playing this game.
also, yesterday was the 24th centennial recognition of Holly's birth. Should you see her, be sure to nod approvingly at her continuing ability to not die.
Everyone seems to be fellating the new Batman movie. I hope to see it soon, so that i too can rave, but i'll probably see that new zombie movie instead. Damn i loves me some zombies.
Yesterday Rob and I went mountain biking (though we couldn't find any mountains). 4 or 6 miles into a 13 mile loop (read: farthest from our cars as possible), Rob's chain decided life was hard and gave up. We flagged down a rider-by who happened to have a chain breaker, and proceeded to break that poor man's hand tool, just before fully reassembling the chain. He told us to keep the corpse of a breaker as he rode off. We limped the bike to the next check point that happened to be near a beach with several pleasure boaters; Rob swam out to the nearest vessel while i frolicked on the beach. The boaters were not inclined to deliver us to the nearest port but the water was quite nice. It was clear the chain wouldn't hold up on the pseudo mountains and we had to find a flatter route home. We had zero thinking beers on hand but a fire trail presented itself which we were able to follow to a lovely dirt road. It, inevitably led to a second dirt road featuring an old man in a van, who would ultimately direct us towards pavement and the trail head. Several road miles later on thick-tired mountain bikes (the old man claimed 7.5 miles with an preciseness that demanded respect) we were back to our cars and none worse for the wear.
I think i'm going to buy a bike repair multi-tool.
also, yesterday was the 24th centennial recognition of Holly's birth. Should you see her, be sure to nod approvingly at her continuing ability to not die.
Everyone seems to be fellating the new Batman movie. I hope to see it soon, so that i too can rave, but i'll probably see that new zombie movie instead. Damn i loves me some zombies.
Yesterday Rob and I went mountain biking (though we couldn't find any mountains). 4 or 6 miles into a 13 mile loop (read: farthest from our cars as possible), Rob's chain decided life was hard and gave up. We flagged down a rider-by who happened to have a chain breaker, and proceeded to break that poor man's hand tool, just before fully reassembling the chain. He told us to keep the corpse of a breaker as he rode off. We limped the bike to the next check point that happened to be near a beach with several pleasure boaters; Rob swam out to the nearest vessel while i frolicked on the beach. The boaters were not inclined to deliver us to the nearest port but the water was quite nice. It was clear the chain wouldn't hold up on the pseudo mountains and we had to find a flatter route home. We had zero thinking beers on hand but a fire trail presented itself which we were able to follow to a lovely dirt road. It, inevitably led to a second dirt road featuring an old man in a van, who would ultimately direct us towards pavement and the trail head. Several road miles later on thick-tired mountain bikes (the old man claimed 7.5 miles with an preciseness that demanded respect) we were back to our cars and none worse for the wear.
I think i'm going to buy a bike repair multi-tool.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
reality makes a house call
Two days down at the ol' office, several hundred thousand to go.
I've spent the majority of my first two days rearranging an empty cubical and reading mindless and repetitive technical data. I have a computer and phone, but no one needs/calls me and my login account isn't active, making me and it 100% useless. In fact, about the only thing i've engineered in the last few days was a lunch.
I've spent the majority of my first two days rearranging an empty cubical and reading mindless and repetitive technical data. I have a computer and phone, but no one needs/calls me and my login account isn't active, making me and it 100% useless. In fact, about the only thing i've engineered in the last few days was a lunch.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
i forgot to mention
but another old building dies in detroit because there's no reason for anyone to try to invest in rebuilding this place. Sniff you later Madison Hotel. Sniff you later forever.
Sorry about the size, but you really need the detail
Sorry about the size, but you really need the detail
Monday, June 13, 2005
Thursday, June 09, 2005
a long time coming
Pistons in 3
that's right, Detroit will require only 3 games to win the best of 7 championship series against the Spurs.
If you're a self proclaimed home team fan, you HAVE to have faith that they will win and you gotta stand by it. This is doubly true for Detroit. The whole success of the Pistons is based on winning games they should never win with players that should never be good enough. And here we are again, and people are back at it with the "i don't know, sure they made it this far, but i think their luck is about to run out." type shit. Remember when the national professional sports analysts were hoping for just one win out of detroit against LA, to in their words "keep the series interesting?" And those folks that will commit to predicting a victory? They always have to attach some BS rider like "no way they take two in San Antonio" or "I heard Duncan is a robot and they're upgrading his battery pack." (side note: Tim Duncan IS in fact a robot, but is limited forever to his first issue components.)
Fuck 'em. I say Detroit sweeps. Ben Wallace EATS Tim Duncan at half court. And Darko Milicic (Or "the DMC" as we call him) will score a triple double... Twice.
that's right, Detroit will require only 3 games to win the best of 7 championship series against the Spurs.
If you're a self proclaimed home team fan, you HAVE to have faith that they will win and you gotta stand by it. This is doubly true for Detroit. The whole success of the Pistons is based on winning games they should never win with players that should never be good enough. And here we are again, and people are back at it with the "i don't know, sure they made it this far, but i think their luck is about to run out." type shit. Remember when the national professional sports analysts were hoping for just one win out of detroit against LA, to in their words "keep the series interesting?" And those folks that will commit to predicting a victory? They always have to attach some BS rider like "no way they take two in San Antonio" or "I heard Duncan is a robot and they're upgrading his battery pack." (side note: Tim Duncan IS in fact a robot, but is limited forever to his first issue components.)
Fuck 'em. I say Detroit sweeps. Ben Wallace EATS Tim Duncan at half court. And Darko Milicic (Or "the DMC" as we call him) will score a triple double... Twice.
just killing time
an informal collection of data reveals, the two most frequent searches that bring people to this page: "Son of Jor El" and "fuckthesouth.com"
(i had to check the data archives to reveal the perpetrator of "iMac'd my RAM all over her face." I mean, how can you put an integrated circuit on a woman's face? and how can the imac be the verb through which you did this? Anyway, that person is out of the will... JIM)
-C
(i had to check the data archives to reveal the perpetrator of "iMac'd my RAM all over her face." I mean, how can you put an integrated circuit on a woman's face? and how can the imac be the verb through which you did this? Anyway, that person is out of the will... JIM)
-C
yeah it's got a Hemi
while Chest is at the gym, i'll be working on my robot suit.
this is how Batman defeated Superman, you know...
this is how Batman defeated Superman, you know...
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
must make entry before booze over takes senses...
hey. how 'bout that new imac?
i turned up the ram 200% in this sexy mutha, so now i can edit 10 photos and do all the associated web crap at the same time and it's smoof like butter. (this picture is PRE-ram added.) Incidently, Holly says "hi." At least she did say hi a few nights back when these photos were taken. It's never a good idea to try to maximize your ram-ness when there's a women looking to be paid attention to.
I present you all now with this fine opportunity to flood the comments page with "that's what she said..." and "i gave her..." type remarks.
i turned up the ram 200% in this sexy mutha, so now i can edit 10 photos and do all the associated web crap at the same time and it's smoof like butter. (this picture is PRE-ram added.) Incidently, Holly says "hi." At least she did say hi a few nights back when these photos were taken. It's never a good idea to try to maximize your ram-ness when there's a women looking to be paid attention to.
I present you all now with this fine opportunity to flood the comments page with "that's what she said..." and "i gave her..." type remarks.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Sunday, June 05, 2005
in other news...
The Piston beat the fuck out of Miami last night. You tell 'em 'Sheed....
Rasheed Wallace deserves an apology from the NBA for the officiating in game 5. Easily the worst called game i've ever seen, and very much a hot national topic after the dust had settled. An apology you ask? Well, turns out they fined him $20,000 instead for what they consider was him starting a conspiracy theory about the NBA. To the press, after commenting about how he "Had to put up with extra help they had out there," (referring to the refs being on Miami's team), he was asked if they would win game 6. I don't have the exact quote (the media world is very much not repeating it. anywhere.) But it went something to the effect of "We'll win game six because the league will send some good guys down there to help us out. They (the league) want there to be a Game 7."
Rasheed Wallace deserves an apology from the NBA for the officiating in game 5. Easily the worst called game i've ever seen, and very much a hot national topic after the dust had settled. An apology you ask? Well, turns out they fined him $20,000 instead for what they consider was him starting a conspiracy theory about the NBA. To the press, after commenting about how he "Had to put up with extra help they had out there," (referring to the refs being on Miami's team), he was asked if they would win game 6. I don't have the exact quote (the media world is very much not repeating it. anywhere.) But it went something to the effect of "We'll win game six because the league will send some good guys down there to help us out. They (the league) want there to be a Game 7."
Saturday, June 04, 2005
I'll sign your hat
last night the strugglers convened at Comerica Park for a Tiger's game. The short version of this story is, we were sitting next to some quasi-famous athlete and these little leaguer's in front of us were lining up to get there hat's signed by him. Drunk and riding high, i stood up and proclaimed "Hey, I'm an engineer; I'll sign your hats.... I work for Chrysler." At least two kids fell for this and even went as far to search out a pen for me. My housemate claims the parent's eyes lit up with that "ohh, positive roll model!" stare of hope.
Friday, June 03, 2005
"wipe away the failure's frown"
Right. Before i get to it, just let me say this.
So yes, although I've been in way too much of a drunken stupor the last two days to report the following, i have officially been offered an electrical engineering position at Diamler Chrysler Corporation in their battery engineer group. (You can read the initial leaks here and here.)
This group is responsible for all battery (and associated technology) engineering/packaging/releasing/quality tracking for the Chrysler group. Though not terribly exciting, people from this department tend to move onto the HEV (Hybrid Electric Vehicle) Group and that, my friends, would pretty much be a life dream realized. (the trunk monkey division of DC (if you don't know what i'm talking about, you should have watched the video at top) was not hiring due to the spectacular failures realized after cold day's of Detroit's last winter).
My emotions of late have run a gamut, but i can't deny the overwhelming wave of self pride. I try to avoid lengthy reflections here, but since graduation in Dec '02, i feel like i've had my ass kicked by life. But you know what, i didn't tap out (well, i may have tried a few times, but i always ended up back in the five-sided-fistagon) and i'll admit i've tended to be a mopey, alcoholic son-of-bitch lately, but i reversed that shitty hold life had on me and i stabbed that muther fucker "fate" in the face with my rusty boot knife.
[makes stabbing motion to accentuate point]
But i digress. I turned a 6 month period of unemployment into a job selling websites (designed by coke-heads) to businesses that didn't need them. I flipped that into a job in a factory that eerily resembled a scene from "8-mile." Desperate, I pulled some strings and scammed a job setting tee-times for rich fuckers that couldn't golf to save their drunken, hollow lives. With the change in seasons, I sold suites, until i stumbled ass-wards into a job driving a van. I accumulated these jokes (with a little help from my friends) into a resume that read like a well written dirty novel; juicy, verbose and always giving the reader exactly what they wanted in the end. And then i sold it to the Germans.
But even with the pride of finally being able to tell my folks that "yes, i have a real job now," There's a funny subtleness that i fear is lost and never want to forget. Alas; the struggle was not in vein. I never would have appreciated this new job a fraction as much had I scored it straight out of college. Likewise, I would never have had the humility that can only be gained by being a part of the working class. I mean seriously fucking living the life everyday and not just some stupid summer job. And finally i never would have met some real important people.
No longer struggling, but still representing,
-C
So yes, although I've been in way too much of a drunken stupor the last two days to report the following, i have officially been offered an electrical engineering position at Diamler Chrysler Corporation in their battery engineer group. (You can read the initial leaks here and here.)
This group is responsible for all battery (and associated technology) engineering/packaging/releasing/quality tracking for the Chrysler group. Though not terribly exciting, people from this department tend to move onto the HEV (Hybrid Electric Vehicle) Group and that, my friends, would pretty much be a life dream realized. (the trunk monkey division of DC (if you don't know what i'm talking about, you should have watched the video at top) was not hiring due to the spectacular failures realized after cold day's of Detroit's last winter).
My emotions of late have run a gamut, but i can't deny the overwhelming wave of self pride. I try to avoid lengthy reflections here, but since graduation in Dec '02, i feel like i've had my ass kicked by life. But you know what, i didn't tap out (well, i may have tried a few times, but i always ended up back in the five-sided-fistagon) and i'll admit i've tended to be a mopey, alcoholic son-of-bitch lately, but i reversed that shitty hold life had on me and i stabbed that muther fucker "fate" in the face with my rusty boot knife.
[makes stabbing motion to accentuate point]
But i digress. I turned a 6 month period of unemployment into a job selling websites (designed by coke-heads) to businesses that didn't need them. I flipped that into a job in a factory that eerily resembled a scene from "8-mile." Desperate, I pulled some strings and scammed a job setting tee-times for rich fuckers that couldn't golf to save their drunken, hollow lives. With the change in seasons, I sold suites, until i stumbled ass-wards into a job driving a van. I accumulated these jokes (with a little help from my friends) into a resume that read like a well written dirty novel; juicy, verbose and always giving the reader exactly what they wanted in the end. And then i sold it to the Germans.
But even with the pride of finally being able to tell my folks that "yes, i have a real job now," There's a funny subtleness that i fear is lost and never want to forget. Alas; the struggle was not in vein. I never would have appreciated this new job a fraction as much had I scored it straight out of college. Likewise, I would never have had the humility that can only be gained by being a part of the working class. I mean seriously fucking living the life everyday and not just some stupid summer job. And finally i never would have met some real important people.
No longer struggling, but still representing,
-C
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
"unmolested"
I was never too impressed with the new NIN single, Bite the Hand that Feeds, until now.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
nerds
if you have any experience with "online gaming" you'll appreciate the hell out of this slightly large video of a some live gaming action.
LEEROY!
i don't know a damned thing about world of warcraft, but i know funny.
LEEROY!
i don't know a damned thing about world of warcraft, but i know funny.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
if i hit the switch i can make the ass drop
I have another interview with one of the big three this week for an engineering position. I don't know how i came to be so obsessed with cars and the auto industry, but i'm pretty sure i will not be happy until i've weaseled my way into a position that allows me to completely surround myself with cars, specifically their design. I think it might have a direct correlation with the habit of always looking for used cars of interest when i'm out; who else would just *happen* to know that there's a '97 bmw 850r with 11,000 miles for sale, askin $4700 O.B.O. (blue book retail 6500, i could work him down to $4300) just down the road from a cherry 1989 Cadillac Brougham with a mere 101,000 miles for $3400. That car ain't even broken in.
Here's a few stories that make my point... my senior year of college a bunch of companies were in town for the career fair recruiting and they had their respective products on display on campus. Caterpillar for example had heavy equipment to show and GM, among other cars had their newly released Hummer H2 on proud display. On my way to class i was distracted by this beast and had to stop to catch a gander. As I'm squatting down behind this thing, inspecting the underbody, some fellow comes up and starts small talk about the new truck. "Pretty impressive," he begins, opening the door to my ranting. "I don't know, i'm not too impressed with the ground clearance. That rear axle looks like it was ripped off a suburban." He pauses to take this in for a moment, while i continue "those foot steps would hang up pretty easy, i figure..." Well. as it turns out, he was the guy who designed that axle... surprisingly, i didn't get a job with GM that year. Or ever after.
Fast forward to three weeks ago. the most exiting event of the week was when i was passed by an EV-1 going east bound on I-696. two things kept me up for three nights after this event. First of all, the EV-1 was an electric vehicle leased only by GM to an exclusive group of customers in predominately warm, southern states. This little electric bitch, toted by the majority of the press "too little too early" passed me going about 80. The second thing is, these little guys made big news a few months ago when they were all crushed while celebrity protesters stood by. Well, there's a least one left and it's terrorizing work vans in detroit.
nerd out,
Curt
Here's a few stories that make my point... my senior year of college a bunch of companies were in town for the career fair recruiting and they had their respective products on display on campus. Caterpillar for example had heavy equipment to show and GM, among other cars had their newly released Hummer H2 on proud display. On my way to class i was distracted by this beast and had to stop to catch a gander. As I'm squatting down behind this thing, inspecting the underbody, some fellow comes up and starts small talk about the new truck. "Pretty impressive," he begins, opening the door to my ranting. "I don't know, i'm not too impressed with the ground clearance. That rear axle looks like it was ripped off a suburban." He pauses to take this in for a moment, while i continue "those foot steps would hang up pretty easy, i figure..." Well. as it turns out, he was the guy who designed that axle... surprisingly, i didn't get a job with GM that year. Or ever after.
Fast forward to three weeks ago. the most exiting event of the week was when i was passed by an EV-1 going east bound on I-696. two things kept me up for three nights after this event. First of all, the EV-1 was an electric vehicle leased only by GM to an exclusive group of customers in predominately warm, southern states. This little electric bitch, toted by the majority of the press "too little too early" passed me going about 80. The second thing is, these little guys made big news a few months ago when they were all crushed while celebrity protesters stood by. Well, there's a least one left and it's terrorizing work vans in detroit.
nerd out,
Curt
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
the funny
a guy walks into his bed room one night while his wife is lying there in bed, and under the guys arm is a sheep. The guy looks up and says, "You see dear, this is the pig i'm fucking when you're not around." The wife is a little shocked at this, but has the sense to realize something's wrong and replies "That's not a pig, that's a sheep..."
The guy says "I wasn't talking to you."
The guy says "I wasn't talking to you."
Saturday, May 21, 2005
show me your light sabor
now that i've seen the new Starwars movie, i feel i should fulfill my roll as internet blogger and offer a review of the flick.
(warning, some spoiling may ensue)
The Bad: Not every fuckin sentence uttered by Yoda was meant to be delivered in reverse prose. Fuck, man, it was like my brain wanted to explode every time Yoda opened his mouth. Furthering the perversion, the computer generated Yoda simply does not look right. Not even close.
The Good: A return to the roots of sexy spaceships in action packed, sci-fi-tastic battles. Don't get it twisted, this was no Hoth battle scene... but the opening sequence was pretty good.
The Bad: Why is everything so cleanly computer generated? The whole fucking universe is shinier than Samuel Jackson's freshly waxed dome. I miss the dark sets; the grimy X-wings with blaster marks, the dingy Millennium Falcon's interior and dirty cross-dressing bars where Solo hung out.
The Good: over all, this movie kicked the first two right in the jimmy. Lucas should have made only this last one, since it's really the one part of the story that relates directly to the other three. Screw those other two.
For a good review that makes mine look like it was written by 3rd graders with head traumas, check out this piece by the New Yorker.
(warning, some spoiling may ensue)
The Bad: Not every fuckin sentence uttered by Yoda was meant to be delivered in reverse prose. Fuck, man, it was like my brain wanted to explode every time Yoda opened his mouth. Furthering the perversion, the computer generated Yoda simply does not look right. Not even close.
The Good: A return to the roots of sexy spaceships in action packed, sci-fi-tastic battles. Don't get it twisted, this was no Hoth battle scene... but the opening sequence was pretty good.
The Bad: Why is everything so cleanly computer generated? The whole fucking universe is shinier than Samuel Jackson's freshly waxed dome. I miss the dark sets; the grimy X-wings with blaster marks, the dingy Millennium Falcon's interior and dirty cross-dressing bars where Solo hung out.
The Good: over all, this movie kicked the first two right in the jimmy. Lucas should have made only this last one, since it's really the one part of the story that relates directly to the other three. Screw those other two.
For a good review that makes mine look like it was written by 3rd graders with head traumas, check out this piece by the New Yorker.
Friday, May 13, 2005
length for no particular reason other than boredom
I spent the other day working in a medium sized office building in downtown detroit. My coworker "e" (previously mentioned in a few entries here) said he used to work at an electro-plating plant just a few blocks away. It was his first job here when he first moved to the detroit area four years ago. If you're not familiar with the electro-plating process, it involves dipping metal components into various acid and chemical bathes, and then running high voltages through the liquid to form a chemical plating over the metal. Basically, think chrome. It's not a very pleasant process to be around, and any undesirable manufacturing process is magnified in suckitude when it's taking place in a dilapidated factory in Detroit's industrial section. Ed (or Easy-E as i like to call him) began telling stories of when the acid tended splash on his arms because the rubber gloves were so short and how certain chemicals would "make him high" because he had only a filter to protect him from the fumes and not a respirator. Easy Said he was commissioned with cutting up the empty 55 gallon chemical drums, which often had residual liquids in them, for easier disposal. Furthermore, he claimed his fellow workers, "the big black guys," would take his lunch and often made fun of his size and speech. The whole experience came to a head one particular evening when his ride home failed to materialize. See, Easy worked the evening shift. or the day shift. or both if they told him to. And on this particular early morning as he got out of work, he said in his broken english, he was forced to make his way to the bus stop to try to get home. Before he made it, a large women approached him and tried very persistently to sell him her body or some crack. (imagine poor ed now, trying dearly to accurately represent the deep voice of this immense women, in his own broken style of speech, "Hey you want buy my pussy?" he said while grabbing his crotch.) Easy-E fled from the women and took refuge in the most well lit area he could. it just so happened that his ride, the brother in law, did show up and edwin was safe for another night.
trying to digest the story i had just heard, while simultaneously dragging out the day's assignment to a full 8 hours, i made my way down to the parking garage for a bit of a wonder. The building housed mostly law firms so the garage attendant was also the valet. It was afternoon now and the morning rush had given way to the lull until the afternoon rush. It was one of the first warm days of spring and I found the attendant just outside the entrance to the garage, leaning back in an old chair, absorbing the sun's rays. He kept referring to it as "being on the beach" INitially i assumed he was making conversation, lamenting what a pleasure it would be to actually be sitting on a warm beach at that particular moment. but as he continued, i realized he really did believe (or at least imagine) he was sitting on a beach. He didn't go to and from the guard booth to park or retrieve cars, he walked to and fro the beech. Likewise, he admired the birds picking crumbs, sparrows i think they were, and how with a little squinting, you could see the long beaks and colorful feathers they flaunted. yes... the feathers... i think i'll enjoy my stay at the beach.
trying to digest the story i had just heard, while simultaneously dragging out the day's assignment to a full 8 hours, i made my way down to the parking garage for a bit of a wonder. The building housed mostly law firms so the garage attendant was also the valet. It was afternoon now and the morning rush had given way to the lull until the afternoon rush. It was one of the first warm days of spring and I found the attendant just outside the entrance to the garage, leaning back in an old chair, absorbing the sun's rays. He kept referring to it as "being on the beach" INitially i assumed he was making conversation, lamenting what a pleasure it would be to actually be sitting on a warm beach at that particular moment. but as he continued, i realized he really did believe (or at least imagine) he was sitting on a beach. He didn't go to and from the guard booth to park or retrieve cars, he walked to and fro the beech. Likewise, he admired the birds picking crumbs, sparrows i think they were, and how with a little squinting, you could see the long beaks and colorful feathers they flaunted. yes... the feathers... i think i'll enjoy my stay at the beach.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
hmmmmm
at some point during the Detroit Tiger's game last night, probably around beer 6 or 7, Jon's women initiated a fresh conversation thread: She turned to me and with the straightest of face, asked "what if you had to choose between a fat, tight chick, or a super hot chick that was blown out?"
Damn. i need another beer. (merry cinco de mayo)
Damn. i need another beer. (merry cinco de mayo)
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
i see...
we don't need the taco jon's monkey to tell us it's not supposed to snow in May. not ever. especially not two days in a row.
well, you know what they say: april snow bring may snow.
well, you know what they say: april snow bring may snow.
Monday, May 02, 2005
"first i took away his weapon; both of them."
i learned four things in Wisconsin this past weekend.
1) shooting guns is fun.
2) sin city is possibly the best movie ever made.
3) a slipknot show is likely the most hard rocking experience i'll ever have.
4) there's some crazy stuff that goes down in a Bristol, WI gentleman's club.
sensory over load...
1) shooting guns is fun.
2) sin city is possibly the best movie ever made.
3) a slipknot show is likely the most hard rocking experience i'll ever have.
4) there's some crazy stuff that goes down in a Bristol, WI gentleman's club.
sensory over load...
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
wonder boy
so yeah. this is the bat that paid the price of my emotional tsunami. damn i loved that bat. in fact, it has a little history behind it. The Hulkster (my bro) first used this stick in early 90's beer league softball matches. left behind at my folks house, i took her under my wing and started keeping it in the trunk of the Dodge Dynasty for protection in the mean street of the S-Gate! werd. escaping several intense, action-filled years in the burbs (without seeing any non-passtime action) it spent a few years in dry dock while i wasted my time and money at an institution of higher learning. (the effects of that last job interview are obviously still being felt) Anyway, now that i live near a batting-range, the old girl came off the bench and had a new found exposure, explaining how my recent roommate and exploding electronic music DJ, rob felt the serene pull of bashing helpless goods and found the black bat was the perfect tool for "playing out" shitty CDs. this particular happening became a popular and now folklore-ish event at one of the shows that would be a stepping stone to his now world-famous status, seen here
. Once rob had blown fully up, he was able to move on and leave the bat and I to our devices, which mostly consisted of devastating high speed, little yellow balls (20 pitches for $1.50, up a quarter from last year). That was, until furry and alcohol took my strength to a superhuman level, and the little bat that could, did no longer.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
my failure is complete
as promised, i got the call today regarding the second interview at chrysler. i came in second. again. i didn't dare mention it at the time, but the guy i interviewed with made it seem like it was a sure thing that i would be hired. he joked about "can you start today?" and said the whole thing went really well. well, apparently some dude showed up who had already worked for chrysler in the past and then quit to go back to school. guess who got the gig. The interviewer said he would have preferred hire me for the long term, but this candidate was a better short term solution.
thanks. that makes me feel much better. makes me totally forget that in the end the whole thing was waste of my fucking time AGAIN, because no matter what i said or how well i hit it off, some fuck walks in with a brown tie and monosyllabic vocabulary, but he has experience at this company, so now this "entry level" position goes to him. what a joke. of course I'm left with the comfort of the bullshit fed to me for an hour about how "we have no problem hiring someone without automotive experience" and "this is the perfect entry level position for you."
fuck that.
the bullshit roller coster continues with the staffing agency now. "we haven't given up on you and we think you're a really great candidate." "I'm sure we'll get you something..." What comes next is either the best part or the worst part... which is more interviews, more time off work, more smiles and more bullshit small talk, which inevitably becomes more forced with each failure at bat. If i'm lucky.
today i drowned myself in booze, BBQ and the batting cages... which was either a really good idea or really bad idea as i shattered an aluminum bat with a well connected line drive.
if only i could smash myself into the job market with my bat. i need a god damned beer.
thanks. that makes me feel much better. makes me totally forget that in the end the whole thing was waste of my fucking time AGAIN, because no matter what i said or how well i hit it off, some fuck walks in with a brown tie and monosyllabic vocabulary, but he has experience at this company, so now this "entry level" position goes to him. what a joke. of course I'm left with the comfort of the bullshit fed to me for an hour about how "we have no problem hiring someone without automotive experience" and "this is the perfect entry level position for you."
fuck that.
the bullshit roller coster continues with the staffing agency now. "we haven't given up on you and we think you're a really great candidate." "I'm sure we'll get you something..." What comes next is either the best part or the worst part... which is more interviews, more time off work, more smiles and more bullshit small talk, which inevitably becomes more forced with each failure at bat. If i'm lucky.
today i drowned myself in booze, BBQ and the batting cages... which was either a really good idea or really bad idea as i shattered an aluminum bat with a well connected line drive.
if only i could smash myself into the job market with my bat. i need a god damned beer.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Thursday, April 21, 2005
things that already exist. in my mind.
housemate and i are throwing ideas to compete in this.
it involves a lot of bicycles being sacrificed and the insertion multiple pulley systems and a honkin fly-wheel. (the last of which may or may not be jettisoned at some point during the ace with explosive bolts.
i need a welder.
it involves a lot of bicycles being sacrificed and the insertion multiple pulley systems and a honkin fly-wheel. (the last of which may or may not be jettisoned at some point during the ace with explosive bolts.
i need a welder.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
the old familiar sting
*i hurt myself today*
got another interview tomorrow
*to see if i still feel*
same company as last time, different position
*i focus on the pain*
gonna have to call off work AGAIN
*the only thing that's real*
should i fail to achieve my goal, i move a step closer to inadvertently liberating myself from current source of income
got another interview tomorrow
*to see if i still feel*
same company as last time, different position
*i focus on the pain*
gonna have to call off work AGAIN
*the only thing that's real*
should i fail to achieve my goal, i move a step closer to inadvertently liberating myself from current source of income
Friday, April 15, 2005
Saturday, April 09, 2005
fuck the fuckers
"it seems pretty strange to me that they'd act so positively about me on the day of the interview and then just break off all contact... "
"sometimes this happens; maybe he got too busy. Maybe they decided not to hire anyone. Then again, our computer still shows the position as open."
"this is ridiculous. He promised an answer that day. Then again on Monday."
"well, they are still our client so we don't want to bug them too much about it."
"so i guess i won't be holding my breath anymore waiting to hear an answer?"
"that's probably best."
"sometimes this happens; maybe he got too busy. Maybe they decided not to hire anyone. Then again, our computer still shows the position as open."
"this is ridiculous. He promised an answer that day. Then again on Monday."
"well, they are still our client so we don't want to bug them too much about it."
"so i guess i won't be holding my breath anymore waiting to hear an answer?"
"that's probably best."
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
data
well, time to prove to the world that i really should be an engineer.
In my quest to better understand these "humans," i've been collecting a well of data. first, i would like to show sophist blog attendance since i started crying like a 12 year old bitch with a skinned knee about my failures at life. with site hits blowing up in the past 4 days (and not even mentioning page hits) i can confidently say it's jumping off over here.
I'm thinking of finally dropping my amateur status and going pro. I suppose the alternative is you sick fuckers just really like to see me squirm and can't get enough of the human drama that is the Dudley St...
here's the fun numbers: My housemate Jon and I (Jon's idea) decided to measure the muzzle velocity of the $4 and $8 dollar air soft guns we bought at the dirt mall. (we needed to explain, scientifically, why the $8 versions were leaving holes in the blinds and dents in the walls) Using a measured distance down the main hall of the house, we set up a microphone and recorded the pop of the gun firing and also the sound of the BB ricocheting off our front door. Disregarding the time it took for the sound to travel back from the door (at just under 200 inches and 70 degrees, it was a mere 0.00203 seconds or something between 0.5% and 1% of the total BB travel time) we used the PC to measure the time the BB took to travel and merely divided it by the distance traveled. There's no pretty graphs here, but for extra credit you can produce the graphs yourself and turn them in. Here's the numbers:
Analysis: The colts (Chest and Notorious' pieces, as well) cost an amazingly low dirt mall price of $4 and produced a fairly decent shot. However, for a few more bucks, you can wreck some shit... or in Becca's case, get an obviously sub-standard mechanism. Also note, that Jon's Glock failed early in it's life, losing a few (what we thought were) useless pieces. Turns out those cracks were very detrimental to it's performance compared to a fully operational version.
Conclusion: if you piss me off, i will pummel you with 80 mph plastic death. Also, watch out for the little woman with the big gun.
In my quest to better understand these "humans," i've been collecting a well of data. first, i would like to show sophist blog attendance since i started crying like a 12 year old bitch with a skinned knee about my failures at life. with site hits blowing up in the past 4 days (and not even mentioning page hits) i can confidently say it's jumping off over here.
I'm thinking of finally dropping my amateur status and going pro. I suppose the alternative is you sick fuckers just really like to see me squirm and can't get enough of the human drama that is the Dudley St...
here's the fun numbers: My housemate Jon and I (Jon's idea) decided to measure the muzzle velocity of the $4 and $8 dollar air soft guns we bought at the dirt mall. (we needed to explain, scientifically, why the $8 versions were leaving holes in the blinds and dents in the walls) Using a measured distance down the main hall of the house, we set up a microphone and recorded the pop of the gun firing and also the sound of the BB ricocheting off our front door. Disregarding the time it took for the sound to travel back from the door (at just under 200 inches and 70 degrees, it was a mere 0.00203 seconds or something between 0.5% and 1% of the total BB travel time) we used the PC to measure the time the BB took to travel and merely divided it by the distance traveled. There's no pretty graphs here, but for extra credit you can produce the graphs yourself and turn them in. Here's the numbers:
Analysis: The colts (Chest and Notorious' pieces, as well) cost an amazingly low dirt mall price of $4 and produced a fairly decent shot. However, for a few more bucks, you can wreck some shit... or in Becca's case, get an obviously sub-standard mechanism. Also note, that Jon's Glock failed early in it's life, losing a few (what we thought were) useless pieces. Turns out those cracks were very detrimental to it's performance compared to a fully operational version.
Conclusion: if you piss me off, i will pummel you with 80 mph plastic death. Also, watch out for the little woman with the big gun.
if the world had an enema, this is where they'd put the tube
staffing company called. seems the dude i interviewed with at DC (diamler-chrysler) has fallen off the earth without letting anyone know who he picked for the job.
they claim, "you are still (i was before?) the leading candidate."
i swear if i get this job i'm taking everyone to the bar.
they claim, "you are still (i was before?) the leading candidate."
i swear if i get this job i'm taking everyone to the bar.
Monday, April 04, 2005
speaker for the dead
can't sleep. too much anxiety over tomorrow's decision about the job. though, i suspect the decision is already made, and i await only it's announcement.
too easy to wonder what mental state is most likely to please the gods and grant me my wish. a pendular sine wave of hopefulness and doubt play itself out in an overly analytical mind. i don't dare fantasize about how the events of life would unfold should i become an engineer for Chrysler... but sometimes in moments of weakness, i find myself imagining how i might go about giving resignation to a job i despise or what i could accomplish when finally awarded a chance to flex my engineering muscles. that has been my moment as a whiney bitch for the day.
all this lack of sleep has allowed me to chew up the first real book i've read in about 6 months: Ender's Game. Highly recommend. damn those buggers.
FYI: housemate snoring quite loud and odd sounding. will not investigate further.
too easy to wonder what mental state is most likely to please the gods and grant me my wish. a pendular sine wave of hopefulness and doubt play itself out in an overly analytical mind. i don't dare fantasize about how the events of life would unfold should i become an engineer for Chrysler... but sometimes in moments of weakness, i find myself imagining how i might go about giving resignation to a job i despise or what i could accomplish when finally awarded a chance to flex my engineering muscles. that has been my moment as a whiney bitch for the day.
all this lack of sleep has allowed me to chew up the first real book i've read in about 6 months: Ender's Game. Highly recommend. damn those buggers.
FYI: housemate snoring quite loud and odd sounding. will not investigate further.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
status report from the western front
While I patiently await a decision by chrysler, I should update the situation with punks in the neighbor hood; But first, PREVIOUSLY ON THE DUDLEY: The house across the street seems to be the source of greatest strife and i understand there are three brothers and a mother that live there. The eldest brother, who is approximately my age was a pretty alright guy who we on the dudley used to hang with quite a bit at the local drinkery. Unfortunately, he moved away, leaving the remaining brother to play hell with the neighborhood; one in high school and one in middle school. Now, we also have a kid that lives next door to us that is approximately the same age as the youngest brother across the street. They're not exactly friends, but the kid next door does seem to enjoy putting himself in a position where the other kid can deliver a severe beating in front of the rest of the neighborhood. The kid next door, however, is a good source for info on the goings on of the other houses.
a few nights ago around midnight, the Dudley St. blew up when Jon Law and his friends Mr. Fire Rescue and Mr. Ambulance rolled on the house across the street from us. It was pretty hard to tell what exactly was going on, (damn i wish i had some kind of device that could magnify from a distance...) but there was a lot of PO-lice and a lot of Ballahs and least one dude took a trip downtown. The folks on the block, tho as biased as us against the local teenagers, don't ever really know what the score is in their own hood and couldn't tell us what went down that night. Luckily, we at the Struggle know two key people; a teacher at the high school AND the 911 dispatch operator for our city. The teacher claims there was a kid in this area bragging about how many local homes he had broken into and suspected that maybe he Finley got taken down. The 911 operator was going to look into the incident and that report is pending.
so yeah... time to get heated up.
a few nights ago around midnight, the Dudley St. blew up when Jon Law and his friends Mr. Fire Rescue and Mr. Ambulance rolled on the house across the street from us. It was pretty hard to tell what exactly was going on, (damn i wish i had some kind of device that could magnify from a distance...) but there was a lot of PO-lice and a lot of Ballahs and least one dude took a trip downtown. The folks on the block, tho as biased as us against the local teenagers, don't ever really know what the score is in their own hood and couldn't tell us what went down that night. Luckily, we at the Struggle know two key people; a teacher at the high school AND the 911 dispatch operator for our city. The teacher claims there was a kid in this area bragging about how many local homes he had broken into and suspected that maybe he Finley got taken down. The 911 operator was going to look into the incident and that report is pending.
so yeah... time to get heated up.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
so thirsty...
a man and a job. it's an arrangement of tremendous insignificance in the great cluster-fuck that is the universe. who cares if Applicant-Unit A is hired or if Applicant-Unit B is hired? the position will be filled either way, and the cogs of the machine will continue turning. then again, if you're Applicant-Unit B, and that fucker Unit A gets the gig, you've lost face once again before Unit B family and friends. Desperate and without hope, Unit B takes to a life of booze and floozies, never realizing his full potential as a widget validation engineer. Meanwhile, that son of a bitch Applicant-Unit A is warm, happy and well insured for full medical, dental and vision. He loses touch with his roots and forgets the common place turmoil of just a few years ago. That's why he's never even suspects that the knife-wielding Applicant-Unit B is sneaking up behind him.
*sneak, sneak, sneak"... STAB!
(that visual stolen from here.)
coming off yesterday's high, induced from what i must admit was a pretty decent interview for me, i've entered the "this is what i should have done better and not doing so is why i will not get the job" phase of the waiting process.
additionally, i'm a little hung over.
housemate jon lent me Ender's Game to read. It shall help as the dehydration and desperation pass.
*sneak, sneak, sneak"... STAB!
(that visual stolen from here.)
coming off yesterday's high, induced from what i must admit was a pretty decent interview for me, i've entered the "this is what i should have done better and not doing so is why i will not get the job" phase of the waiting process.
additionally, i'm a little hung over.
housemate jon lent me Ender's Game to read. It shall help as the dehydration and desperation pass.
Friday, April 01, 2005
it takes my pain away
First, there's been an explosion of activity on my street lately. it all started when I woke up one morning and the side mirror of my work van had been quite efficiently smashed off. Though easily repaired, I was concerned for the possibility of future events and started poking my nose around the hood. Turns out the pickup down the street ALSO lost a mirror, and a ford focus one street down was rear ended one evening a few nights later, and the assailant drove off. More data collection revealed that our next door neighbor has some expensive gear ripped off from his garage a few months back.
Now, info up to now has been factual... essentially; here comes the biased stuff: We live one block from a local high school (with a fine reputation for producing losers) and there's some punk-ass teenagers that live across the street with what would seem to be an absence of supervision. (Do I sound old yet?) Combined, the neighbor kids and the local high schoolers are always wandering around our house, since the kids across the street seem to attract the best of the local element. These kids are "teenage punks" in the purest sense; they walk by our house in groups of 4 or more, 37 times per trip around the earth's axis and spend the remaining 14 hours of the day on the porch directly across from us, sitting in darkness and talking trash. They (now we're talking the neighbor's AND the other local roustabouts) are always rolling deep and frontin' hard, with their stupid hooded shirts and what not. And then there's the trash talk; i thought only in movies did people walk down a street and yell sexual innuendoes, physical appearance assessments and invitations to fornicate at passer-byes. I was wrong.
Once an obvious enemy had been established (the punks) and a perimeter defined (our property) we had the workings of a battle plan. So last week we drew it up.
It's pretty straight forward; your red indicates your threats and their potential movements into our positions. The work van represents our already weakened forward defensive positions, while our allies and potential allies are outlined along with whatever data we had or happen to drunkly think we had.
we've already had updates with this situation, so watch for those later. The reason i had time to type all this crap up today is because i called off work and took a sick day. I did this, not because i was sick (unless you're reading this and you're a coworker, in which case everything that follows now is the OPPOSITE of the truth) but because i had a job interview with Chrysler's Truck Engineering facility in Detroit. I tend not to discuss the workings of things like this until a clear conclusion has been established, but this particular job is pretty noteworthy. It's not that I'm superstitious, but i do believe firmly that should the powers of the universe happen to look up and realize I'm excited about something (especially a prospective job) those powers will snatch it away faster than you can say "what a fucking waste of four and a half years and $50,000." But fuck it, most everyone knows about this one anyway. The deal was this; the guy was interviewing two candidates today and had already interviewed two others. A staffing co. set this up, so those lucky bastards have multiple candidates for the same position. Think about this; they're standing there wishing me luck and shaking my hand and filling me with their BS, while they're ALSO the bastards supplying my competition. Fuckers. Anyway, the interviewer is leaving for Mexico Monday and had to make a decision TODAY. "Awesome," i say, "an interview with clear and prompt resolution." Now, most of you can probably figure out that i've been trying to break into the auto industry for about, oh, three years now unsuccessfully... This is the perfect job; open to those with no experience with the auto companies, dealing with prototype cars and trouble shooting the issues there in and very closely related to exactly what i do now (i.e. have experience with). I'm so into this job i could puke. More so than any before it. The rub is, instead of getting an answer today, the interviewer decided to postpone his decision until monday, and indicated only that i was one of three candidates still in the running. So now i'm screwed... the powers know full well that i would kill somebody in front of they own momma for this position and it's inevitable that they snatch it away. I'm not going to sugar coat it... I hate my job, and the idea of going back to it monday after having spent the morning at Chrysler and seeing the "green pastures" of the promise land is unbearable. Here's to irony, chance, karma, luck, retribution and coincidence.
Now, info up to now has been factual... essentially; here comes the biased stuff: We live one block from a local high school (with a fine reputation for producing losers) and there's some punk-ass teenagers that live across the street with what would seem to be an absence of supervision. (Do I sound old yet?) Combined, the neighbor kids and the local high schoolers are always wandering around our house, since the kids across the street seem to attract the best of the local element. These kids are "teenage punks" in the purest sense; they walk by our house in groups of 4 or more, 37 times per trip around the earth's axis and spend the remaining 14 hours of the day on the porch directly across from us, sitting in darkness and talking trash. They (now we're talking the neighbor's AND the other local roustabouts) are always rolling deep and frontin' hard, with their stupid hooded shirts and what not. And then there's the trash talk; i thought only in movies did people walk down a street and yell sexual innuendoes, physical appearance assessments and invitations to fornicate at passer-byes. I was wrong.
Once an obvious enemy had been established (the punks) and a perimeter defined (our property) we had the workings of a battle plan. So last week we drew it up.
It's pretty straight forward; your red indicates your threats and their potential movements into our positions. The work van represents our already weakened forward defensive positions, while our allies and potential allies are outlined along with whatever data we had or happen to drunkly think we had.
we've already had updates with this situation, so watch for those later. The reason i had time to type all this crap up today is because i called off work and took a sick day. I did this, not because i was sick (unless you're reading this and you're a coworker, in which case everything that follows now is the OPPOSITE of the truth) but because i had a job interview with Chrysler's Truck Engineering facility in Detroit. I tend not to discuss the workings of things like this until a clear conclusion has been established, but this particular job is pretty noteworthy. It's not that I'm superstitious, but i do believe firmly that should the powers of the universe happen to look up and realize I'm excited about something (especially a prospective job) those powers will snatch it away faster than you can say "what a fucking waste of four and a half years and $50,000." But fuck it, most everyone knows about this one anyway. The deal was this; the guy was interviewing two candidates today and had already interviewed two others. A staffing co. set this up, so those lucky bastards have multiple candidates for the same position. Think about this; they're standing there wishing me luck and shaking my hand and filling me with their BS, while they're ALSO the bastards supplying my competition. Fuckers. Anyway, the interviewer is leaving for Mexico Monday and had to make a decision TODAY. "Awesome," i say, "an interview with clear and prompt resolution." Now, most of you can probably figure out that i've been trying to break into the auto industry for about, oh, three years now unsuccessfully... This is the perfect job; open to those with no experience with the auto companies, dealing with prototype cars and trouble shooting the issues there in and very closely related to exactly what i do now (i.e. have experience with). I'm so into this job i could puke. More so than any before it. The rub is, instead of getting an answer today, the interviewer decided to postpone his decision until monday, and indicated only that i was one of three candidates still in the running. So now i'm screwed... the powers know full well that i would kill somebody in front of they own momma for this position and it's inevitable that they snatch it away. I'm not going to sugar coat it... I hate my job, and the idea of going back to it monday after having spent the morning at Chrysler and seeing the "green pastures" of the promise land is unbearable. Here's to irony, chance, karma, luck, retribution and coincidence.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
you did what?
two news items of interest today.
the first teaches us that you should never be worth more dead than alive. oh, and don't try to out smart angry thugs.
the second reveals how stupid people look when they try understand "the internets."
is it the bunny-carcass shape that makes easter chocolate taste so good?
the first teaches us that you should never be worth more dead than alive. oh, and don't try to out smart angry thugs.
the second reveals how stupid people look when they try understand "the internets."
is it the bunny-carcass shape that makes easter chocolate taste so good?
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Monday, March 28, 2005
shut your man pleaser for 7 seconds...
boy... this blog thing really fizzled the last few weeks. i blame my renewed vigor to find an engineering job, a recently purchased copy of Unreal Tournament 2 (Son of Unreal Tournament), and warming weather which is teasing me to that sexy mistress mother nature. in fact, i haven't even been surfing with the regularity of past.
speaking of the outdoors, anyone every consider getting in a group and renting an RV on Water? Sounds like good, clean, drunken fun with lots of swimming, drinking, cliff diving and piloting of large, cumbersome vehicles, if you've ever spoken to someone who's done it. think about it... twenty aught six.
speaking of the outdoors, anyone every consider getting in a group and renting an RV on Water? Sounds like good, clean, drunken fun with lots of swimming, drinking, cliff diving and piloting of large, cumbersome vehicles, if you've ever spoken to someone who's done it. think about it... twenty aught six.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
time for retribution
much to report..
1). Unreal Tournament 2004 (for Mac) is Bad-Ass. I can almost feel the next 3 months of my life slipping away.
2). An open (and brief) letter to the person who took a bat to my van's side-rear-view mirror: If i find you, I will smash you. Even as you're looking up from the pavement through bloodied eyes, begging for forgiveness, still i will feel nothing.
3). I've decided to buy this bike. If my paycheck had made it to my bank account at 4:30pm today, as it was supposed to, i would have already put the chips down on this bad bitch. Anyone up for a ride? Down a cliff?
4). I've seen a furry of stats and graphs that suggest site attendance here at the sophist's playhouse is way down this month, so tell your friends to stop in and say "howdy."
1). Unreal Tournament 2004 (for Mac) is Bad-Ass. I can almost feel the next 3 months of my life slipping away.
2). An open (and brief) letter to the person who took a bat to my van's side-rear-view mirror: If i find you, I will smash you. Even as you're looking up from the pavement through bloodied eyes, begging for forgiveness, still i will feel nothing.
3). I've decided to buy this bike. If my paycheck had made it to my bank account at 4:30pm today, as it was supposed to, i would have already put the chips down on this bad bitch. Anyone up for a ride? Down a cliff?
4). I've seen a furry of stats and graphs that suggest site attendance here at the sophist's playhouse is way down this month, so tell your friends to stop in and say "howdy."
Saturday, March 19, 2005
too much booze...
make homer "something," "something..."
http://www.jimwirt.com/coloringweb/COLORINGBOOK.htm
...lethargic?
http://www.jimwirt.com/coloringweb/COLORINGBOOK.htm
...lethargic?
Thursday, March 17, 2005
where's the booze?
i bailed out of work early today (well, actually, they assumed i would want to leave and get drunk without me even asking... odd) and it's that magically-drunk day of the year, so i figured i'd help all ya'll with a few jokes, anecdotes and toasts you can use this evening.
disclaimer: i guarantee these are funnier when you're drunk
**************************
"Here's to all the kisses we've snatched...and vice versa!"
**************************
"Here's to panties; they're not the bet thing in the world, but they're close to it."
**************************
What do Pink Floyd, Berlin and Dale Earnhardt have in common? Their last hit was a wall.
**************************
(drunk version)
"Here's to honor; If you can't cum in her, cum honor"
(sober version)
"She offered her honor
He honored her offer
And all night long, it was
On her, off her, on her, off her"
**************************
An Irishman is never drunk as long as
He can hold onto one blade of grass and not
Fall off the face of the earth.
**************************
Some Guinness was spilt on the barroom floor
When the pub was shut for the night.
When out of his hole crept a wee brown mouse
And stood in the pale moonlight.
He lapped up the frothy foam from the floor
Then back on his haunches he sat.
And all night long, you could hear the mouse roar,
"Bring on the goddamn cat!"
**************************
In heaven there is no beer
that's why we drink it here
and when we're gone from here
our friends will be drinking all the beer
**************************
and as if you needed another reason, you can always drink to make the people around you interesting.
disclaimer: i guarantee these are funnier when you're drunk
"Here's to all the kisses we've snatched...and vice versa!"
"Here's to panties; they're not the bet thing in the world, but they're close to it."
What do Pink Floyd, Berlin and Dale Earnhardt have in common? Their last hit was a wall.
(drunk version)
"Here's to honor; If you can't cum in her, cum honor"
(sober version)
"She offered her honor
He honored her offer
And all night long, it was
On her, off her, on her, off her"
An Irishman is never drunk as long as
He can hold onto one blade of grass and not
Fall off the face of the earth.
Some Guinness was spilt on the barroom floor
When the pub was shut for the night.
When out of his hole crept a wee brown mouse
And stood in the pale moonlight.
He lapped up the frothy foam from the floor
Then back on his haunches he sat.
And all night long, you could hear the mouse roar,
"Bring on the goddamn cat!"
In heaven there is no beer
that's why we drink it here
and when we're gone from here
our friends will be drinking all the beer
and as if you needed another reason, you can always drink to make the people around you interesting.
Monday, March 14, 2005
wher are all the people?
The new coworker i've been training (whom we will call Edwin, because that is his name) continues to bring color to my day. Today he locked his keys in his car. If you've never seen a man with a think accent try to contact a lock smith over teh phone, you haven't lived, my poor little friend.
A few days back we were in Down Town Detroit. We were eating lunch at the Subway across from the Compuware building, gazing out out the window longing for a fulfilling career. Noticing that we were surrounded by ginormis office buildings, he asked me where all the people were. In case you've never been in detroit on a regular business day, it is easily the most desolate metropolis you will ever experience. The streets are always empty (and yet, strangely, there continues to be no available parking spots) while the mostly empty building loom over head. Edwin lamented that he had never sen a city like this, and even though he'd been in the area for 6 years, he was still not used to it. He could easily spot the queerness of a local detroiter; in his words, "everyone looks like they expect something bad to happen."
Later that day, in detroit, we were driving on the Lodge service drive and came across a smashed Chevy Suburban. The radiator fluid had all run out onto the road but had long since stopped steaming. There were no other cars on the one-way road, be them smashed or otherwise. I pulled around the wreck, have-way onto the curb and went around. Edwin, following me in his Mini-van (too new for a company truck) didn't even seem to notice the the car corpse.
he's fitting right in.
Oh yeah, Holy and I saw "Robots" tonight. It is, of course, now highly recommended. And I'm not just saying that because of the obvious robot presence.
A few days back we were in Down Town Detroit. We were eating lunch at the Subway across from the Compuware building, gazing out out the window longing for a fulfilling career. Noticing that we were surrounded by ginormis office buildings, he asked me where all the people were. In case you've never been in detroit on a regular business day, it is easily the most desolate metropolis you will ever experience. The streets are always empty (and yet, strangely, there continues to be no available parking spots) while the mostly empty building loom over head. Edwin lamented that he had never sen a city like this, and even though he'd been in the area for 6 years, he was still not used to it. He could easily spot the queerness of a local detroiter; in his words, "everyone looks like they expect something bad to happen."
Later that day, in detroit, we were driving on the Lodge service drive and came across a smashed Chevy Suburban. The radiator fluid had all run out onto the road but had long since stopped steaming. There were no other cars on the one-way road, be them smashed or otherwise. I pulled around the wreck, have-way onto the curb and went around. Edwin, following me in his Mini-van (too new for a company truck) didn't even seem to notice the the car corpse.
he's fitting right in.
Oh yeah, Holy and I saw "Robots" tonight. It is, of course, now highly recommended. And I'm not just saying that because of the obvious robot presence.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
here comes the meat wagon...
this story needs to be read. An incredible wealth of knowledge can be gained. Here's a few points...
1) everyone should carry a piece (preferably a .45 or larger)
2) it's not uncommon for people to have their face taken off
3) the primate revolution is at hand
try to spot the others and list them below.
1) everyone should carry a piece (preferably a .45 or larger)
2) it's not uncommon for people to have their face taken off
3) the primate revolution is at hand
try to spot the others and list them below.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
spot me, twig-boy
jeez... i really got get back to the gym.
err, wait...i already did.
i was in the cut-off.
you can't miss me.
err, wait...i already did.
i was in the cut-off.
you can't miss me.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
I hear there's rumors on the internets
it link time! (everyone get your green tights and pointy hat!)
i honestly had a conversation recently with a friend about this: he was commenting on how it takes a certain degree of effort to keep a long term relationship interesting. i guess he was right. That being the case, I'll be busy this weekend.
"The vendor who sold the cassava balls insisted nothing was wrong with them and ate a few to prove the point. Now she, too, is in critical condition." damn.
seriously, this right here may be only link in this post worth while. gotta love that soundtrack.
your mother.
i honestly had a conversation recently with a friend about this: he was commenting on how it takes a certain degree of effort to keep a long term relationship interesting. i guess he was right. That being the case, I'll be busy this weekend.
"The vendor who sold the cassava balls insisted nothing was wrong with them and ate a few to prove the point. Now she, too, is in critical condition." damn.
seriously, this right here may be only link in this post worth while. gotta love that soundtrack.
your mother.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
are you down to put in some work?
the latest object of my inappropriately dispersed sexual desire...
i spent some time with an unruly VCR the other night. Does there exist a company that recognizes the potential of a person that can fix anything? not that it matters... i mean fuck, how do you make note on a professional resume that you have some degree of hands on experience with every consumer electronic product known to man? (while secretly harboring a desire to build kill bots?)
Leela: They say Zapp Brannigan single handedly saved the Octillion system from a horde of rampaging kill bots.
Fry: Wow!
Bender: A grim day for robotkind, eh, but we can always build more kill bots.
shit, all your conglome-crop types want is another cog for the machine. who wants a car designer when they can get some chump to spend 37 years refining the deign for bolt #3.45A?
I started training this new guy, Edwin, at work last tuesday. He's Philippine and although sports a large english vocabulary, is very difficult to converse with do to a thick accent and slow word recall function. He's probably in his late 30's and is super-plus eager to learn the ins of the "trade" i call my job. He's also surprisingly technically intuitive. I say surprising, i suppose, because of my own bias that assumes foreigners don't have electricity. How soon i forget about the Indian Hit Squad that stole my electrical engineering controls book. those fucks. Anyway, Edwin, he's an interesting character; maybe it's because i spend 90% of my time working alone and it's a new novelty to have a "apprentice." Either way, at first i assumed he was eager to work/learn as a result of some work ethic typically lost on your typical american... turns out he just hates being at home with the wife and kids. that bitch is ALWAYS nagging him to fix this or clean that... and he... he's like me. he just wants to think the big thoughts, you know. He confided in me an idea he once had for an invention that he's convinced could make him millions... if he could just get the damn thing built. He said he's never told anyone about it before, which made me feel ways about things. (i will now divulge that million dollar idea to the whole of the internet) Anwyay, I think he feels like he's wasting himself on this life, always comparing himself to me and my "Young, free, single lifestyle" he imagines i live. inevitable it all ends in a reference (in broken english mind you) to his wife, kids and boundless responsibilities. He once told me about the motorcycle he used to own and switched over to advice on how to pay for his kids college in the same breath.
damn, Edwin.
"I deal with the god damn customers so the engineers don't have to. I have people skills; I am good at dealing with people. Can't you understand that? What the hell is wrong with you people?"
[seriously folks, i love cats. i'd have one if my housemate/land lord wasn't so damned allergic.]
i spent some time with an unruly VCR the other night. Does there exist a company that recognizes the potential of a person that can fix anything? not that it matters... i mean fuck, how do you make note on a professional resume that you have some degree of hands on experience with every consumer electronic product known to man? (while secretly harboring a desire to build kill bots?)
Leela: They say Zapp Brannigan single handedly saved the Octillion system from a horde of rampaging kill bots.
Fry: Wow!
Bender: A grim day for robotkind, eh, but we can always build more kill bots.
shit, all your conglome-crop types want is another cog for the machine. who wants a car designer when they can get some chump to spend 37 years refining the deign for bolt #3.45A?
I started training this new guy, Edwin, at work last tuesday. He's Philippine and although sports a large english vocabulary, is very difficult to converse with do to a thick accent and slow word recall function. He's probably in his late 30's and is super-plus eager to learn the ins of the "trade" i call my job. He's also surprisingly technically intuitive. I say surprising, i suppose, because of my own bias that assumes foreigners don't have electricity. How soon i forget about the Indian Hit Squad that stole my electrical engineering controls book. those fucks. Anyway, Edwin, he's an interesting character; maybe it's because i spend 90% of my time working alone and it's a new novelty to have a "apprentice." Either way, at first i assumed he was eager to work/learn as a result of some work ethic typically lost on your typical american... turns out he just hates being at home with the wife and kids. that bitch is ALWAYS nagging him to fix this or clean that... and he... he's like me. he just wants to think the big thoughts, you know. He confided in me an idea he once had for an invention that he's convinced could make him millions... if he could just get the damn thing built. He said he's never told anyone about it before, which made me feel ways about things. (i will now divulge that million dollar idea to the whole of the internet) Anwyay, I think he feels like he's wasting himself on this life, always comparing himself to me and my "Young, free, single lifestyle" he imagines i live. inevitable it all ends in a reference (in broken english mind you) to his wife, kids and boundless responsibilities. He once told me about the motorcycle he used to own and switched over to advice on how to pay for his kids college in the same breath.
damn, Edwin.
"I deal with the god damn customers so the engineers don't have to. I have people skills; I am good at dealing with people. Can't you understand that? What the hell is wrong with you people?"
[seriously folks, i love cats. i'd have one if my housemate/land lord wasn't so damned allergic.]
Sunday, March 06, 2005
The saying goes, "if you don't like the weather in michigan, wait a minute; it'll change." Although the variability of the weather has been a key topic of conversation since the first caveman needed to fill an awkward silence with his caveman brethren (probably a co-worker), it *is* a comfort knowing that here in michigan, change is guaranteed. Always in the future, just around the corner, a new season lurks. Something to yearn for, i would say; a prospect of new opportunity, even if it is merely a perceived event. What can i say? It excites me to think that in a few short weeks the entire backdrop of life will refashion itself.
There's another saying that i believe comes from Mark Twain (but i could be way off about the origins): "Everybody is talking about the weather, but nobody is doing anything about it."
Agreed.
There's another saying that i believe comes from Mark Twain (but i could be way off about the origins): "Everybody is talking about the weather, but nobody is doing anything about it."
Agreed.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
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