odd and disturbing

I was in japan. Two lowest level yakuza idiots threatened me with knives openly on the street. I held them in place with magic and asked someone nearby where the cops were. they said they didn't know. I realized they weren't saying because they were scared that the yakuza would attack them for helping. Instead of the cops I had the two thugs tell me where they wanted to be taken and they predictably had me lead them to where they all hung out. They others saw that I was using magic to walk their friends around and let me in to see their boss. I explained that these people had been openly talking about how they were yakuza and that it could cause trouble for their organization. The boss agreed that they had made a mistake and would be punished. I told him that I was personally offended because they had offended me by their pathetic threat and if the boss would let me save some face and punish them for him. He agreed that since I'd helped them by bringing them there and keeping them from outing the organization that I would be allowed to punish them. I used their belts to make tourniquet on their right arms. I exchanged pleasantries with the boss while their arms went numb. There was an unmistakable feeling of danger in the room despite all the polite words. The yakuza were interested to see what I was doing and were also very likely going to kill me since they didn’t want anyone knowing where their hideout was. When they were ready everyone watched as, with just my bare hand, I crushed one dude's elbow so completely that it was easy to tear the lower part of his arm completely off. He screamed into a gag. Wielding the arm like a club, I slapped him with his own hand. I then shoved his dismembered arm into the ass of the other thug all the way up to the wrist so that just the hand stuck out. I repeated the processes with the second thug. I then put them butt to butt and made them shake hands. Throughout the process there were various terror responses; vomiting, pissing, shitting, shaking, as well as some clutching weapons and wanting to attack me. The boss sat there quietly the whole time never revealing his fear. Instead of secrecy, he now wanted to kill me because I was a terrifying threat to his organization. I told him that I believe that they were sufficiently punished and, with his permission, I would leave. He nodded and thanked me for my help. I left that audience room and had no sooner closed the door when a bunch of people in this room started shooting me with everything they had. The scene cut to the inside of the audience room and the boss smiled as he heard the gunshots start and eventually stop. To his horror I opened the door and showed that all of the people who’d tried to shoot me were hanging in the air about a foot off the ground; a black band around their necks preventing them from screaming or breathing. In syrupy tones I regretfully told him that some more of his men had offended me but instead of waiting for him to speak I snapped my fingers and the band around their necks constricted until it cut their heads off and they tumbled to the ground. There was a bloodbath of arterial spray. It splattered the walls and pooled on the floor but none of it touched me. I’d splatter against some sort of invisible barrier. In a shaky voice the boss apologized for his men and in a wheedly voice hoped that I wouldn’t blame them for their actions. I told him I wouldn’t but suggested that he might want to have someone clean up this mess. I turned and left the building. There were police outside. I was arrested. The dream broke down. Disjointed scenes of a police precinct. I had clammed up and demanded a lawyer. Lots of cops questioning me in various ways. I woke up and felt disgusted and disturbed

Harvard school of assassins

This dream was odd because I wasn't in it.

A young woman who looked like Emma Watson was accepted to the Harvard school for Assassins with a full scholarship. All assassins have to pick a educational discipline as a cover story for why they are at Harvard. She chose English Literature and Creative Writing. She ended up writing a couple novels and collaborated with the education and training schools to help rewrite NASAs training manuals. She was doing well in her classes but there was trouble with her dad. Her dad, who had worked 25 years in factory before being replaced by a robot, did not approve of writing as a career. He had no idea she was learning to be an assassin as well and she wasn't allowed to tell him. One Christmas her father and mother came to visit and check in on her and she and her father were having and argument about it. She was getting frustrated because she knew that if she told him what she was really doing that he'd be okay with it but she couldn't and her father was feeling upset because he didn't feel this was going to help her in the long run and he was worried for her long term well being. Meanwhile the mom was trying to smooth things over with both of them. During one particularly heated exchange there was a cough from the shadows; one of the woman's class mates and friends who for some reason was Jon Snow from Game of Thrones had been lurking to make sure she was okay. She nonchalantly signaled that he should stay hidden and eventually got her dad to leave by tearing into him and his emotional insecurities. I remember the line "Writing isn't a good job? Hows working for 25 years for people half your age only to get replace my a mindless robot who is better at your job than you were"

The dream got weird after that. One of her professors saw this and thought she was too emotional so assigned her a class with some weird monk assassin who tried to train her to calm her emotions and teach her to make tea. He was a goofy weirdo but apparently was very good at killing people and teaching.

haunting in the woods

Some friends of mine asked me and my friend Doug to come with them to search for a haunted house way out in an old forest. We geared up for spirits, ghosts, and large horrible woodland monsters and grabbed the 4x4 and drove as close as we could get to where we'd be looking. The geography prevented us from driving closer so we had to hike a bunch of stuff in. We easily found the house in the forest. The trees were not too densely packed and were large with a dense canopy that dimmed the sun. The forest was eerie; some combination of the trees and the leaves made it sound quiet and filled it with whispers. There was no road up to the house. There were no signs of civilization anywhere but here was this white two story colonial in moderately good repair. The windows were in tact but the paint was peeling in places. the rest of our friends hooted with joy at the discovery and eager went though the unlocked door into the house. Several trips were made from the vehicles to the house to bring in supplies. The house was thoroughly investigated and my friends were disappointed to find no secret passage ways or dead bodies or anything except and old forgotten home. There were no pictures on the walls and most of the furniture had been cleared out. There were plates in the kitchen, an old water pump which had good water in it, a wood burning stove. Everything was dusty. My friends and I cleaned house; everything was swept and washed. Fresh firewood was chopped for the stove and the fireplaces. It soon got dark and my friends, disappointed that they didn't find anything spooky, went to bed happy as they anticipated a enjoyable vacation in the woods. Doug and I slept less soundly. There was an odd presence here. It felt like we were being watched. We resolved ourselves to investigate further in the morning.

Dawn came and with it no surprises. Maps where laid out and inspected. There was a lake not far from us and our friends decided to hike out to it to go swimming, fishing, hiking, and hunting. Meanwhile Doug and I got to work securing the house from anything supernatural. I set down a magic circle of protection to keep thing out and Doug started inscribing runes into the windows and doors. I finally found some lesser forest spirits; the ghosts of dead old trees. They warned me that we should leave as there was a dark spirit that slept in that house and that humans in general were not welcome in this area. I assured them that we'd be leaving soon and would try not to disrupt anything. With an air of disbelief the spirit vanished. Our friends returned with fish and rabbits. Our friend Dan the hiker said he didn't feel well and was gonna turn in early. The rest of our friends were oblivious to the growing sense of tension building in the air.

The next day was when things went down hill. Doug and I woke up to shrieks and screams. One of our friends (nameless) had been possessed by a poltergeist and Dan had been possessed by a fallen tree spirit. Nameless was giggling to himself and occasionally cursing as he crawled along the walls and ceiling and Dan just floated upright a foot off the ground; his eyes coal black and head lolled to the side. The fallen tree spirit was mad at all humans because they had burned down his tree. It wasn't hard for us to convince it that Dan didn't deserve this as he was a hiker and loved the forest, so the spirit left. The poltergeist was much tougher. It was strong and didn't care about anything but tormenting people. We could hurt the poltergeist since it was borrowing our friends body but that would hurt our friend also. We had our friends distract the poltergeist as Doug and I went down to the living room and made a binding circle. Once were ready we went up to the room and all of use jumped the poltergeist and tied it to the bed and then sealed up the room hoping that boredom would get the poltergeist to discorporate which it did. Intangible the monster came at us and got trapped in the binding circle where we bound it to a rock. We buried the rock under the stone floor of the basement in a bag of salt. Our friends had lost their childlike joy for the place. We rested up and as soon as everyone was ready we left. Doug and I returned to help put the fallen tree spirit to rest and to appease the spirits of the forest. We then pledge to never come back.

Murder at the Pit

I was in a movie with a small bit part. It was something like Journey to the center of the earth or a remake of the abyss. We were filming at an old cave that had a deep drop. I was reviewing some photography and one actress who had few images the night before suddenly had over 100,000 images. Turns out she had died by falling in the pit. Sherlock Holmes didn't think it was an accident. He decided to show up in disguise and start investigating. I was the only one who knew he was sneaking around but I didn't know what he looked like. Everyone was freaked out but trying to soldier on. Sherlock started interviewing everyone trying to find the murder and I freaked out because even though I hadn't killed the actress Sherlock always discovers something embarrassing about you and I didn't want him airing my dirty laundry. I panicked and woke up.

not so wild west

last night was strange. western civilization had collapsed I'm not sure why. There wasn't gas for cars, trucks, or airplanes so travel was greatly restricted. Everything had a more wild west settler vibe to it. I was a traveling tinker. I went from town to town fixing things and teaching people how to get by without abundant electric. I took scrap metal and melted it down and refined it so it could be cast and shaped to replace broken parts. I would pay people with work for things I needed and traded when I could. I also brought news and maps. There wasn't much else to it.

worst job ever; a dream

I was the caretaker for dark souls 3. I did all the repairs and upkeep. Made sure the crystal lizards got exercise so they'd be fast, filed down the giant crystal monsters so they wouldn't get in their own way, maintained all the switches/levers/elevators, restocked ammo for all the giant archers, replaced boxes/barrels that people kept rolling though, played fetch with the horrible monster dogs, fed the dragons, got employee of the month for figuring out how to only light the candles and torches when someone was around which saved a bunch of money, general repairs/disrepairs for buildings, etc ..

generic batman ripoff

I had discovered that fellow billionaire Bruce Wayne was batman and I wanted to do that too only I saw it more like a hobby and didn't go out much. I mostly used it as an excuse to build a secret mancave in my mansion, buy some fancy cars, and do parkour across the city for exercise. I "fought" against a villain that was one part Joker and one part Riddle called the Giggler. We "fought" by him leaving geocaches of jokes and puns that were clues to the next spot like a scavenger hunt. If i completed them all in a set time and found him he'd take me to lunch and if i didn't find him in time i'd take him to lunch.

a dream; an army of blond assassins

I was a spy but not a very good one. I by dumb luck alone intercepted an important code; something that was going to change the nature of espionage forever. unfortunately in was destroyed and now my memory was the only record of it. With as much stealth and careful planning as I could muster I made contact with my organization and asked to be brought in. We were to meet up in a hotel district in europe. I thought this was a terrible idea given that there would be so many people around and we'd never be able to tell if there where bad guys. my organization felt this was perfectly fine and that it was good enough for me. We had a small little apartment on the first floor with a broken ice maker. Without ice it was hot and uncomfortable and I kept asking my handler to go and get more ice from the maker three buildings over. My handler eventually refused and told me that if I wanted ice I could get it myself. I made several trips, each time my paranoia growing a little. I bumped into a blonde with a ski bag that could have easily held weapons. The way she reacted told me that the encounter was staged and she was testing me. I scurried away, got ice, and hid. Another trip and I could swear I was being watched. The roofs had bird watchers on them only one per building but all blond and not really looking for bird. The were in perfect sniper positions. I ran back to my handler and thought I heard a gun shot though it could have been a car back fire. I warned my handler and he dismissed it as paranoia. Another running scene with me moving from cover to cover to retrieve ice and as I returned to the apartment there was a large bunch of blondes so similar in appearance and clothes that they looked like copies of each other. They seemed like they were all part of a biathlon team. They were listening to a matron give a short speech. It sounded like a request for them to behave themselves but if you listened right it also sounded like instructions to comb the area looking for someone. They were gonna be staying in an apartment one floor up and half a hallway down from me. I slowly walked by them and slipped into my apartment. I was losing my mind with terror. They were going to find me and torture me for the information. My handler eventually shut me in my room so he didn't have to listen to my fearful gibbering. I heard a barking. It was the matrons little dog yapping at our door. My handler opened the door to see what was up and the dog ran in and darted under a couch. The matron apologized and called for her dog to come out. She kept up a litany of apologies and complaints about travel and the weather and her little dog in a calm smooth motherly voice while the handler busied himself trying to get the elusive dog out from under the couch. She was scanning the room during this getting as much info as possible from the room. The dog burst out from the couch and ran straight to my door and started sniffing at the gap between it and the floor. It barked in its little yappy way and scratched at the door. The matron swooped in and picked up the dog. The body guard asked her to leave and she made polite noises and thank yous. After she was gone the bodyguard checked my room but the window was open and I was gone.

dream a little dream

a girl died due to the perfectly legal indirect actions of 7 people and myself. unfortunately the girl was related to a voodoo queen. she cursed us and all sorts of unfortunate things started happening to us; flat tires, broken dishes, lost items, bad traffic, annoyances. One of the people, a real pompous prick of a doctor, called us all to his office. It was a big office but kind of old; like it would have been really impressive 20 years ago. He was that annoying kind of prick that is aggravatingly right about things and a condescending dick about it. he sits us all down and starts trying to convince everyone that we need to go "get her". as he is talking it starts storming out. as he keeps talking the storm gets worse; strong winds, torrential rain, and thunderous lightening. Oddly as the storm outside gets stronger his arguments and peoples reactions get less elegant. eventually they are all resolved to just walk out into the storm and track her down and make her break the curse. none of this sounded like a good idea to me. I tried to convince them that it was a bad idea. For one thing we had no idea where she was and it was really hellish out there. in fact this was another part of the curse. their eyes got a dull sullen look to them and actually looked a little orange around the iris. I refused to go and they were angry at me but didn't threaten me. they belittled me, mocked me, and tried to pressure me to go but I refused. they all left, walking out into the rain. they all got struck by lightening or hit by cars or washed away by the storm

Reanimation of the dead

A list of things that have been happening to me: I moved away from Night Shift; that was quite some time ago, I move to day shift, I'm still working for GoDaddy, I no longer do alerts which I'm really pleased about, my career is progressing slowly but acceptable, my alcohol abuse had increased to the point where bad things were happening to my body and my brain so I quit drinking; I've been dry since May 9th 2016, I'm going to an alcohol abuse treatment facility in an out-patient program, I'm now dating Cristy and that requires a separate post all to its own, my linux knowledge is getting frighteningly awesome, I'm really learning to script and how to build tools. I am reminded of the Wondrous boat ride song from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory: There's no earthly way of knowing Which direction we are going There's no knowing where we're rowing Or which way the river's flowing Is it raining, is it snowing Is a hurricane a-blowing

Nearly a year

Wow. so this blog is dead. nearly a year since I said anything.

I'm still in the desert which I have decided is more like a parking lot. I'm working night shift for GD; which isn't bad but isn't challenging. I still don't have any real friends here. I'm in a pretty deep rut that isn't really good for me.

I just got back from Washington DC. Walked a bunch all over. Saw a bunch of stuff. Got to see Anna and Will. It made me really happy and really sad at the same time. I love seeing my friends but seeing them reminds me of how much I miss them.

Grandma H died. I'm happy she isn't trapped in her body any more. Both Mom and Dad said that they didn't expect me to show up and were insistent that it wouldn't be prudent to fly out. What the fuck is that about. Funerals aren't about prudence. they are about getting together to be there for each other and remind everyone that while you've lost one person you still have many others in your life. It kinda felt like they didn't want me to be there; which doesn't sound right but you know how feelings are.

I discovered dubstep some time ago and have added it to my list of music I like. I like Skrillix and DadA life. There is a bunch out there. The weirdest is DJ Pon3; basically people post a still picture of a My Little Pony (not sure of the name) and put some Dub behind it. It's a strange anarchist collective where each person claims to be the "Real" or "Original" DJ Pon3. It occupies this weird piece of fan space that Hasbro hasn't sued yet. Since they aren't Hasbro and haven't been sanctioned by Hasbro I can't see how any of them are real or original but whatever. Some (the better ones) just plaster the image of their own set lists but others are dubstepping the My little pony show which is strange.

Our Old Lady Discord is still running through me. There is a lot of insane things out in the world and they make me laugh and encourage me to keep on going.

I joined a Gold's Gym two nights ago. I haven't gone yet and I am already regretting the choice. I hope I can find some willingness to go. I'd really like to be skinnier and I know it would make me feel better.

I've had some amazing dreams. Last night I was attacked by a Griffon while driving my car home. It landed on the roof of my car while I was driving and punched it's head through my sunroof. It wanted me to come with it because it needed to take me to "She who came first"; The First Griffon, immortal mother and progenitor of the race. It had used a dragons scale to track me down. It was very rude and insistent that I would go "if the ignorant monkey knew what was good for it". I argued rather circuitously that the only way I could comply was if it let me ride it which was personally distasteful to any of the proud griffon race. Seeing that it had no other choice, and somewhat confused by my logic, it let me ride it back to a castle carved into a mountain. It didn't realize that I was a Dragon, that the scale was mine, that I was more than capable of flying, or that with minimal effort I could have destroyed it. It just knew that "She" had given it the talisman and that the scale would guide it to me and that it must do whatever it could to retrieve me. There were some other things in there; Dragon scales were once used to seal pacts in memory of a time when real Dragons would act as arbiters over all disagreements had by all the races of earth. She who came first and I knew each other well. She had done me a great service centuries in the past and I had signed a promise, on my own scale no less, to return the favor when asked it of me. I think at some point all dragons had been wise, kind, and lawful to the extreme but something happened so that they were no longer bound in such a manner. This change meant that dragons changed and began to become very different. This division turned dragons against each other and that led to wars that spanned the globe and destroyed practically everything.

Storm

Tim if you are reading this, or if your lawyers are reading this, please don't sue me for reproducing this work that is entirely yours and not mine. Ask and I'll take this down.

“Storm”

Inner North London, top floor flat
All white walls, white carpet, white cat,
Rice Paper partitions
Modern art and ambition
The host’s a physician,
Lovely bloke, has his own practice
His girlfriend’s an actress
An old mate from home
And they’re always great fun.
So to dinner we’ve come.


The fifth guest is an unknown,
The hosts have just thrown
Us together for a favor
because this girl’s just arrived from Australia
And has moved to North London
And she’s the sister of someone
Or has some connection.

As we make introductions
I’m struck by her beauty
She’s irrefutably fair
With dark eyes and dark hair
But as she sits
I admit I’m a little bit wary
because I notice the tip of the wing of a fairy
Tattooed on that popular area
Just above the derrière
And when she says “I’m Sagittarian”
I confess a pigeonhole starts to form
And is immediately filled with pigeon
When she says her name is Storm.

Chatter is initially bright and light-hearted
But it’s not long before Storm gets started:
“You can’t know anything,
Knowledge is merely opinion”
She opines, over her Cabernet Sauvignon
Vis-à-vis,
Some un-hippily
Empirical comment by me

“Not a good start” I think
We’re only on pre-dinner drinks
And across the room, my wife
Widens her eyes
Silently begs me, Be Nice
A matrimonial warning
Not worth ignoring
So I resist the urge to ask Storm
Whether knowledge is so loose-weave
Of a morning
When deciding whether to leave
Her apartment by the front door
Or a window on the second floor.

The food is delicious and Storm,
Whilst avoiding all meat
Happily sits and eats
While the good doctor, slightly pissedly
Holds court on some anachronistic aspect of medical history
When Storm suddenly she insists
“But the human body is a mystery!
Science just falls in a hole
When it tries to explain the the nature of the soul.”

My hostess throws me a glance
She, like my wife, knows there’s a chance
That I’ll be off on one of my rants
But my lips are sealed.
I just want to enjoy my meal
And although Storm is starting to get my goat
I have no intention of rocking the boat,
Although it’s becoming a bit of a wrestle
Because -- like her meteorological namesake -
Storm has no such concerns for our vessel:

“Pharmaceutical companies are the enemy
They promote drug dependency
At the cost of the natural remedies
That are all our bodies need
They are immoral and driven by greed.
Why take drugs
When herbs can solve it?
Why use chemicals
When homeopathic solvents
Can resolve it?
It’s time we all return-to-live
With natural medical alternatives.”

And try as hard as I like,
A small crack appears
In my diplomacy-dike.
“By definition”, I begin
“Alternative Medicine”, I continue
“Has either not been proved to work,
Or been proved not to work.
You know what they call “alternative medicine”
That’s been proved to work?
Medicine.”

“So you don’t believe
In ANY Natural remedies?”

“On the contrary actually:
Before we came to tea,
I took a natural remedy
Derived from the bark of a willow tree
A painkiller that’s virtually side-effect free
It’s got a weird name,
Darling, what was it again?
Masprin?
Basprin?
Asprin!
Which I paid about a buck for
Down at my local drugstore.

The debate briefly abates
As our hosts collects plates
but as they return with desserts
Storm pertly asserts,

“Shakespeare said it first:
There are more things in heaven and earth
Than exist in your philosophy…
Science is just how we’re trained to look at reality,
It can’t explain love or spirituality.
How does science explain psychics?
Auras; the afterlife; the power of prayer?”

I’m becoming aware
That I’m staring,
I’m like a rabbit suddenly trapped
In the blinding headlights of vacuous crap.
Maybe it’s the Hamlet she just mis-quothed
Or the eighth glass of wine I just quaffed
But my diplomacy dike groans
And the arsehole held back by its stones
Can be held back no more:

“Look , Storm, I don’t mean to bore you
But there’s no such thing as an aura!
Reading Auras is like reading minds
Or star-signs or tea-leaves or meridian lines
These people aren’t plying a skill,
They are either lying or mentally ill.
Same goes for those who claim to hear God’s demands
And Spiritual healers who think they have magic hands.

By the way,
Why is it OK
For people to pretend they can talk to the dead?
Is it not totally fucked in the head
Lying to some crying woman whose child has died
And telling her you’re in touch with the other side?
That’s just fundamentally sick
Do we need to clarify that there’s no such thing as a psychic?
What, are we fucking 2?
Do we actually think that Horton Heard a Who?
Do we still think that Santa brings us gifts?
That Michael Jackson hasn’t had facelifts?
Are we still so stunned by circus tricks
That we think that the dead would
Wanna talk to pricks
Like John Edward?

Storm to her credit despite my derision
Keeps firing off clichés with startling precision
Like a sniper using bollocks for ammunition

“You’re so sure of your position
But you’re just closed-minded
I think you’ll find
Your faith in Science and Tests
Is just as blind
As the faith of any fundamentalist”

“Hm that’s a good point, let me think for a bit
Oh wait, my mistake, it’s absolute bullshit.
Science adjusts it’s beliefs based on what’s observed
Faith is the denial of observation so that Belief can be preserved.
If you show me
That, say, homeopathy works,
Then I will change my mind
I’ll spin on a fucking dime
I’ll be embarrassed as hell,
But I will run through the streets yelling
It’s a miracle! Take physics and bin it!
Water has memory!
And while it’s memory of a long lost drop of onion juice is Infinite
It somehow forgets all the poo it’s had in it!

You show me that it works and how it works
And when I’ve recovered from the shock
I will take a compass and carve Fancy That on the side of my cock.”

Everyone’s just staring at me now,
But I’m pretty pissed and I’ve dug this far down,
So I figure, in for penny, in for a pound:

“Life is full of mysteries, yeah,
But there are answers out there
And they won’t be found
By people sitting around
Looking serious
And saying isn’t life mysterious?
Let’s sit here and hope
Let’s call up the fucking Pope
Let’s go watch Oprah
Interview Deepak Chopra

If you’re going to watch tele, you should watch Scooby Doo.
That show was so cool
because every time there’s a church with a ghoul
Or a ghost in a school
They looked beneath the mask and what was inside?
The fucking janitor or the dude who runs the water-slide.
Throughout history
Every mystery
EVER solved has turned out to be
Not Magic.

Does the idea that there might be truth
Frighten you?
Does the idea that one afternoon
On Wiki-fucking-pedia might enlighten you
Frighten you?
Does the notion that there may not be a supernatural
So blow your hippy noodle
That you would rather just stand in the fog
Of your inability to Google?

Isn’t this enough?
Just this world?
Just this beautiful, complex
Wonderfully unfathomable world?
How does it so fail to hold our attention
That we have to diminish it with the invention
Of cheap, man-made Myths and Monsters?
If you’re so into Shakespeare
Lend me your ear:
“To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw perfume on the violet… is just fucking silly”
Or something like that.
Or what about Satchmo?!
I see trees of Green,
Red roses too,
And fine, if you wish to
Glorify Krishna and Vishnu
In a post-colonial, condescending
Bottled-up and labeled kind of way
That’s ok.
But here’s what gives me a hard-on:
I am a tiny, insignificant, ignorant lump of carbon.
I have one life, and it is short
And unimportant…
But thanks to recent scientific advances
I get to live twice as long as my great great great great uncles and auntses.
Twice as long to live this life of mine
Twice as long to love this wife of mine
Twice as many years of friends and wine
Of sharing curries and getting shitty
With good-looking hippies
With fairies on their spines
And butterflies on their titties.

And if perchance I have offended
Think but this and all is mended:
We’d as well be 10 minutes back in time,
For all the chance you’ll change your mind.

Stop worrying and fucking do something

The bad news: you are going to get old, sick and die. If you've missed an opportunity to do something it's gone and you can't go back. You aren't special. There are 6.8 BILLION people on this planet and they all got their start the same way you did; their parents fucked.

There's a fun line: You got fucked into this world, you are gonna get fucked through out your life in a variety of ways and then you are gonna get fucked out of it; learn to like getting fucked.

The good news: you can do damn near anything you want. If you work hard enough, are smart enough and lucky enough there isn't anything you can't do except break the Laws of physics. Even then, there isn't a Judge of physics or a Cop of physics and certainly no Jail of physics so you might as well try to break those Laws. In fact if you figure out how to break Laws of Physics you will get extremely rich and famous.

Much like Stephen Hawking. Now there is a truly awesome mother fucker. Born a healthy normal boy during WWII, nearly died getting bombed by Luftwaffe, Stephen Fucking Hawking would eventually end up in a wheel chair with a unpronounceable disease that has left him almost completely paralyzed.

He has, from his wheel chair, unraveled the mysteries of Time and Space, Blackholes, the creation of the Universe and has predicted how all of everything is going to End.

Stephen Hawking is hardcore. If he can do it so can you.

Learn to be fucking awesome. Never give up. Never stop. Do not listen to anyone that tells you you can't do something.

Try everything. Don't worry about failing. Do anything you want to do. Learn from every experience; yours, your friends, your enemies. Learn history; think of it as a lesson on how other people have fucked up so that you don't have to.

Here is the big one; Think for yourself. This is bloody difficult. We are conditioned to listen to people, do what we are told, and to believe what other people want us to think. Some people are wrong and think they are right, some people lie to get you to do something they want you to do/think/believe, some people hate their life so much they make up stuff to make them feel better. These useless fuckers will tell you you can't do stuff, shouldn't do stuff, or that things you want to do are impossible. Think for yourself. If someone hands you an easy answer but doesn't explain how it solves something that person is probably full of shit. They may mean well, they may be lying to impress you, they may be telling you what they learned and never thought about. If it doesn't make sense ask questions. Demand an explanation.

You have one life. It is small, short and unimportant but it is yours. You won't get another one.

Allo mein twisted monsters

nearly 5 in the morning and full of coffee and reading discordian mantras in the form of strange blogs I have to say that I'm feeling pretty good. I ought to do something creative to get my mind moving. finding inspiration is a little difficult; like unzipping a fish. If nothing else I can unlock the doors of this place and dump all the cobwebs out of my brain.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!

Some jackasses can't take a hint.

I'm at work, my cell phone rings, and I answer.

THEM: "Hi, I'm from the company that warranties your car. Did you know your warranty has expired?"
ME: "I am not interested in anything you are selling, Goodbye."

*click*

10 seconds later the same phone number rings me back. I answer and start talking before they can start.

ME: "What part of 'I'm not interested' don't you get?"

*click*

Amazingly they call back a third time about 2 seconds later. They rush to get their foot in the door.

THEM (obviously upset and hurried): "Sir, I'm not selling anything! I just wanted to make sure you knew that your warranty has expired!"
ME (choking on my own rage) : "I know my warranty expired. Your company sent me 4 post cards explaining that is was expired and tried to sell me a new warranty. The warranty I got with my car wasn't very good and the renewal warranty was even worse PLUS it cost me money. I didn't reply to any of the mail you sent me and I've hung up on you TWICE! What makes you think I care about my warranty AT ALL?!

(this person then said something unthinkably stupid)

THEM: "So you are aware that your warranty has expired? Would you like to renew it?"

(at that point an aneurysm burst in my head and I died)

Aimlessly Adrift

Once in a while
perhaps at great length
I'm given to dither with prose

I scribble and doodle
with stanzas and stout
But none of it good I'll disclose

A purposeless life
is a ship without rudder
Its actions are float, drift or sink

A directionless journey
with no destination
Leaves its crew little recourse but drink

Through the fog and the rain
they keep at their tasks
Though the fear darkened night keeps them wailing

but a light they will find
and somewhere to dock
so long as they've will to keep sailing

to redouble their grip
is the core of their craft
if they want to leave their location

but starving for options
they're left little choice
as they've been pressed to their current vocation

no matter the ship
no matter the crew
we've all a journey to make

either make a choice
on where you would go
or it'll be made inspite of your sake

Jobness

I am obviously less than diligent about updating this.

I heard back from Toyotetsu. They offered me a job for not enough money to move to a place I'd rather not live.

Go Daddy offered me a job for a ton of money to live in the desert which I took.

I am now in the AZ with everything I want except all my friends and family. I'm very excited about the job and I think I'll be able to do okay at it.

I really miss everyone. It really sucks being so far away from the people I love.

Fuck and now fuck it.

You can't care about every damn thing. We'll see how shit shakes loose. I gotta watch my money but fuck i gotta have fun and eat or I'll go bug shit crazy.

Unisys liked me but didn't think I was up to the task; an all to frequent sentiment. I have some responce back from Bonneville Power Admin in portland OR. We'll see if that flies. Steve still has a space on his team but I don't think he wants me since I turned it down a month and half ago.

Fuck it.

FUCK!

I get unemployment but next to nothing. Barely enough to live indoors. That doesn't count food. This fucking blows. Best I can tell I'll have 160ish dollars to eat every month. About 5 bucks a day.

The only hope I have is that the time I spent on unemployment counts and that "they" forgot to count that.

I'm really glad I have savings

Harry Potter abortion

So I had a series of dreams last night that involved the Harry Potter universe. It started with a version of me that wasn't very much like me at all at hogwarts and spun out from there. I realized that there was plenty of material there for a roleplaying game. Various schools of magic, teachers, rivals, houses, spells, and an interesting environment to set stories in. I thought about restricted or lost libraries containing powerful lore as well as forgotten rooms of mysterious purpose. Throw in Dark wizards, evil plots, the forbidden forest, the nearby town, wand creation and augmentation, classes and exams.

Then the whole thing was ruined. I realized that I would have to put in rules for qudditch.

fuck