Can someone explain to me why in the hell the Supreme Court is worried for Exxon? Yes, that Exxon, the one who fucked up royally in Alaska damn near twenty years ago and made $40 billion in 2006. It wouldn't be because the sorry bastards might actually have to own up and pay for the goddamned mistake they made in 1989, now would it?
.........
Hey Exxon? Do the right fucking thing for one and PAY THE GODDAMNED MONEY YOU FUCKING OWE!! You fucked up, now own up to that and take some fucking responsibility for once. Stop dragging your damned feet, grow up and take it like a fucking adult.
--Weasel, "It's been almost 20 years. These fuckers ought to owe Alaska a shitload of interest and fucking penalty fees."
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
The dream started as all dreams do, a myriad of incoherent images tumbling about my mind. But then my mind focused on one image in particular: the image of a car...
He was a yellow Camaro, and an older model. '74? '76? Under the thick patina of road dirt which further dulled his faded paint, it was almost impossible to tell. He was alone and wandering and looking for something, something that was important to him.
And he had been looking for a very long time. But he refused to stop now. That something was just too important. He needed to find it.
I was looking, too. I was looking for him. And I was looking for that something.
By the time we had met, he had changed his form; he was still a Camaro, still yellow, but he had upgraded. He was now a 2010 model.
But I still knew him the moment I saw him. We said nothing; he opened his driver's side door and I simply got in. We were together now, searching for that something, that ever important something, utterly unknown but so overwhelming.
And so we traveled, down lonely highways and empty interstates, through towns and cities. That something hung over us, but it wasn't as important now; we knew together we would find it.
It was growing late, the sun was setting and stars were beginning to appear in the sky. We slipped past a desert cliff and I stared in wonder at the bright, silvery stars and shimmering clouds, and noticed how it all looked "more real than real".
And I realized that I should be afraid. I had seen things like this before. In the past they had terrified me. But I wasn't afraid. He was with me and I had no reason to fear.
His radio popped on and a song began to play. I felt happy. I felt at peace. Everything was fine. Nothing bad could ever happen to me here.
The shrill squawk of the alarm shattered it. The dream was gone, over. I couldn't go back, no matter how hard I tried. "No. I wanna go back. I was with Bumblebee,"I mumbled as I rolled over. But it was gone.
That was Wednesday morning. I can still remember that dream clearly. Usually my dreams fade away the moment I'm awake. This one hasn't.
Usually my dreams are incoherent. This one was clear.
And usually, when I see things that are "more real than real" in my dreams, I am fearful. I don't want to look at them; I want to look away. But this time was different. I wasn't afraid.
Perhaps it was just a dream. Perhaps it was something more. I'll likely never know.
I just wish I could go back. It felt safe there.
He was a yellow Camaro, and an older model. '74? '76? Under the thick patina of road dirt which further dulled his faded paint, it was almost impossible to tell. He was alone and wandering and looking for something, something that was important to him.
And he had been looking for a very long time. But he refused to stop now. That something was just too important. He needed to find it.
I was looking, too. I was looking for him. And I was looking for that something.
By the time we had met, he had changed his form; he was still a Camaro, still yellow, but he had upgraded. He was now a 2010 model.
But I still knew him the moment I saw him. We said nothing; he opened his driver's side door and I simply got in. We were together now, searching for that something, that ever important something, utterly unknown but so overwhelming.
And so we traveled, down lonely highways and empty interstates, through towns and cities. That something hung over us, but it wasn't as important now; we knew together we would find it.
It was growing late, the sun was setting and stars were beginning to appear in the sky. We slipped past a desert cliff and I stared in wonder at the bright, silvery stars and shimmering clouds, and noticed how it all looked "more real than real".
And I realized that I should be afraid. I had seen things like this before. In the past they had terrified me. But I wasn't afraid. He was with me and I had no reason to fear.
His radio popped on and a song began to play. I felt happy. I felt at peace. Everything was fine. Nothing bad could ever happen to me here.
Ventura Highway in the sunshine
Where the days are longer
The nights are stronger than moonshine
You're gonna go I know
The shrill squawk of the alarm shattered it. The dream was gone, over. I couldn't go back, no matter how hard I tried. "No. I wanna go back. I was with Bumblebee,"I mumbled as I rolled over. But it was gone.
That was Wednesday morning. I can still remember that dream clearly. Usually my dreams fade away the moment I'm awake. This one hasn't.
Usually my dreams are incoherent. This one was clear.
And usually, when I see things that are "more real than real" in my dreams, I am fearful. I don't want to look at them; I want to look away. But this time was different. I wasn't afraid.
Perhaps it was just a dream. Perhaps it was something more. I'll likely never know.
I just wish I could go back. It felt safe there.
Well, That's Not Prime!
I'd like to take a moment and send a cyber "Get well soon" message to Garry Chalk, who was injured in a fall on February 5th.
"It's not going to be a freaking picnic, Garry is a force to contend with if you try to keep him down."
Get better soon, Bigbot.
"It's not going to be a freaking picnic, Garry is a force to contend with if you try to keep him down."
Get better soon, Bigbot.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
:facepalm:
What the hell is wrong with KansASS?
The Kansas State High School Activities Association said referees reported that Michelle Campbell was preparing to officiate at St. Mary's Academy near Topeka on Feb. 2 when a school official insisted that Campbell could not call the game.
The reason given, according to the referees: Campbell, as a woman, could not be put in a position of authority over boys because of the academy's beliefs.
Um, I'd like to see you guys tell those boys' mothers that.
Wow. Seriously, WOW.
"We view officials not as male or female, Hispanic or African-American or Asian-American. We view officials as officials," Musselman said. "Discrimination against our officials is something we can't be party to."
Treating people as people. Huh, what an amazing concept.
Link found at AMERICAblog.
The Kansas State High School Activities Association said referees reported that Michelle Campbell was preparing to officiate at St. Mary's Academy near Topeka on Feb. 2 when a school official insisted that Campbell could not call the game.
The reason given, according to the referees: Campbell, as a woman, could not be put in a position of authority over boys because of the academy's beliefs.
Um, I'd like to see you guys tell those boys' mothers that.
Wow. Seriously, WOW.
"We view officials not as male or female, Hispanic or African-American or Asian-American. We view officials as officials," Musselman said. "Discrimination against our officials is something we can't be party to."
Treating people as people. Huh, what an amazing concept.
Link found at AMERICAblog.
Friday, February 08, 2008
It's 2008... Where the Hell Are Our Upgrades?!
As most of you may know, I had some wrist trouble back in October. It's feeling better, which is good, but now a different part of the body had decided to fall apart.
For the last three days, my left knee has felt stiff. You know, like you need to pop the joint and it'll feel better. Well, I've tried popping it for the past three days. It hasn't helped. It makes me long for the idea of a cybernetic upgrade.
Which leads to my main question: Where the hell are the cyborg bodies?
It's 2008. Shouldn't we have fully functional AI, flying cars, colonies on the moon and androids by now? Shouldn't I be able to drop this sorry, half-functioning meatbag for a nice, sleek robotic body that will last a few thousand years? What the hell guys? Where's my friggin' cyborg upgrade? Cause I really want one right now.
--Weasel, "Damn human bodies don't wanna last worth a crap. I think I'm the wrong damn species."
For the last three days, my left knee has felt stiff. You know, like you need to pop the joint and it'll feel better. Well, I've tried popping it for the past three days. It hasn't helped. It makes me long for the idea of a cybernetic upgrade.
Which leads to my main question: Where the hell are the cyborg bodies?
It's 2008. Shouldn't we have fully functional AI, flying cars, colonies on the moon and androids by now? Shouldn't I be able to drop this sorry, half-functioning meatbag for a nice, sleek robotic body that will last a few thousand years? What the hell guys? Where's my friggin' cyborg upgrade? Cause I really want one right now.
--Weasel, "Damn human bodies don't wanna last worth a crap. I think I'm the wrong damn species."
Saturday, February 02, 2008
The Ultimate Revenge of the Return of Random Thoughts
Been busy as of late, so I haven't updated in a while. But now that I have the time, I'll give you:
* Customers are assholes. 'Nuff said.
* Tomorrow is the Super Bowl. I'll be working until 7, so I won't see the damn halftime show or the commercials. Those are the only things I give a crap about.
* I am already sick of selling beer. Every other customer had a frigging case of beer. And most don't want to show ID.
* We are out of driveway and sidewalk salt. People are pissed, but there's not a damn thing I could do about it. Amd hey, I'm out of salt myself! I'd like to frigging buy some too!
* April cannot come soon enough.
Even More Completely Random Thoughts
* Customers are assholes. 'Nuff said.
* Tomorrow is the Super Bowl. I'll be working until 7, so I won't see the damn halftime show or the commercials. Those are the only things I give a crap about.
* I am already sick of selling beer. Every other customer had a frigging case of beer. And most don't want to show ID.
* We are out of driveway and sidewalk salt. People are pissed, but there's not a damn thing I could do about it. Amd hey, I'm out of salt myself! I'd like to frigging buy some too!
* April cannot come soon enough.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
