Month: October 2014

Trolling for Meaningful Discourse, but Finding Off-Color Cartoons Instead

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indulgence

Shame on me for indulging my more banal impulses- in a way.

Have I mentioned that I’m no paragon of virtue?

devilwoman

I should be more worried about any number of more important things, including various and sundry deadly contagious diseases.  I’ve never had any respect, love, admiration or anything but animosity toward the current Squatter-in-Chief aka: Obama the Ebola King, (all Hail to the Thief, heh-heh) but now I’m convinced that Obama really does have nothing but malice toward the American people.  Why in the flying hell have we been allowing flights to come in from Ebola-harboring locales?  Why in the flying hell haven’t our borders been secured a LONG time ago?  If B.O. thinks he can executive-order his way through governance, one would think that creating a no-fly list would be a no brainer.  Then again, B.O. doesn’t have much of a brain- or his aim is to destroy this country.

obama-inept-and-corrupt

If his aim is to trash this country, he’s doing a damned fine job of it.  The sad thing is that he’s not alone in his efforts.

The more I stew and steam about Obama’s extreme ineptitude (malice?!) and those in collaboration with him the more I realize that there’s not a damned thing I can do about it.  I can wish in one hand and shit in the other and we all know which one will fill up first.  All I can do is vote the right way and hope that the lame-ass Secretary of State and Attorney General of Ohio (both supposedly Republicans) have done something to prevent the rampant voter fraud (that I witnessed with my own two eyeballs, but that they both swear up and down didn’t happen in 2012) from happening again.

big nutz

Now that rant’s over, so I can start on the trivialities.

Such as my current favorite cartoon, Brickleberry. This is classic.

It’s probably not a good thing that I find the concept of farts that smell like Christmas funny, but it could be worse.

A Tenuous Equilibrium, The Way of Mercy, and Screwed Again

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Malloy

I shouldn’t be so nice.

Nor should I confuse “nice” with “moral” or “Christian.”

But sometimes I do.

I had three days of much desperately needed vacation (sanity!!!) time scheduled.  So with my luck, according to Murphy’s Law, one of my co-workers had to leave and will be out the rest of the week because his Dad died. There went my Brickleberry DVR marathon and road trip to points TBA.

Brickleberry-post

I could literally watch these episodes all day. And I was going to.

 

Granted, death sucks, and realistically, you can’t expect someone to care about work in that situation, but mustering up sympathy is pretty hard for me when I’m stuck covering for this same guy through his kid’s endless sports events and various other frequent bullshit call-offs. It’s like crying wolf.

This is how I feel about this guy:
Now you have a valid reason to be gone, but you blew both your vacation time and my patience a long time ago. Save the calling off and pawning off your work on me for real emergencies – and maybe I’d be more understanding when you have an actual crisis.  Your kid’s ball games and your conflicts with Time Warner and your cable boxes, and whatever other stupid shit you come up with to get out of work shouldn’t be my problem.  Then again, I am not the boss.  If I were, there would be no calling off for bullshit- if you wish to remain employed.  It’s simply not fair to everyone else.

frustrated-face

Technically, I could have went ahead and taken my vacation- but it would have put other people in a bad spot as well as giving me a first class ticket on the guilt train.

But there is a bright side. If I’d decided to go ahead and take my vacation time, I’d have been trying to escape from Jerry and his endless to-do lists, and pain in the ass micromanagement- all while feeling miserable that other people have to do what I should be doing anyway.  Even so, I’m screwed again.

It’s almost sort of sad when one is better off just staying at work.  Then again, it beats running Jerry’s errands.  I’ve not forgotten the 20 mile (one way) road trip to score him KFC in the middle of the night whilst in the middle of nowhere, WV.  If only I could just get paid for it, but not actually take vacation time, that would be moderately OK with me.  Unless of course, I can take an actual solitary vacation, which I don’t see happening.

I know, forgive and forget, and know that I’d have been strongarmed into forgoing any attempts at rest and solitude anyway, and it was better to volunteer for the inevitable.  It either makes me look “nice” or just affirms that I’d rather avoid conflict than stand my ground.  Either way, the outcome would have been the same.

This One Goes Up to Eleven, Reality Bites, and the Diesel Beast

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PuppetShowAndSpinalTap01

 

For those not familiar with the wisdom of Nigel Tufnel from Spinal Tap, he claims that his particular Marshall amplifiers are better because they “go up to eleven.”  I guess I need that “little extra push over the cliff” myself.

marshall amps

For what it’s worth, Marshall amplifiers are both classic and choice, for both guitar and bass.  Back in the dark ages when I played bass, I had a 400 watt full stack that pretty much never got turned up past three.  That’s probably more of a commentary on the fact that I never got very far in the rock and roll endeavor than the quality of the amplifier.  I had the power to play in large venues- but not the opportunity.  Success in the performance business is based on a number of factors, and actual talent isn’t terribly high on the list.  Stage presence, one’s connections, and just being in the right place at the right time matter more than how well one can play or sing.

I have no stage presence, I am not well connected, and when my ship comes in it’s guaranteed I’ll be at the airport.  I am not going to claim that I am or was the best thing in the world since sliced bread either.  I was a decent singer and a pretty good bass player, but who cares when you are female and have the body of a mutant troll?  It worked for Angus Young, but he was both British and a dude.  For women in performance and music it’s a “damn, she looks fine, but can’t sing a note,” world out there- and the staircase matters more than what’s upstairs and/or what kind of voice projects from said staircase.  There are plenty of talented people out there that the world will never see or hear.  Cronyism and nepotism remain alive and well in many spheres, and a pretty face trumps a good voice, musical talent and/or a brain every time.  Vapid, marginally talented (or even no-talented) beauties have far better odds of success in this world than talented homely people, which partially explains the Kardashians.

kardashian_sisters

Pretty, but a combined IQ of 12.

Suffice to say that I don’t have the pretty face.   I let the rock and roll dream go when my son was born because I had to get down to reality sooner rather than later.  It’s fun but (with the exception of a very elite few) it doesn’t pay the bills.  It was a lot of work and time and money that I didn’t have to spend.

On a brighter note, the POMC bought his very first new car Saturday.  He went to the dark side a long time ago (he’s enamored of the Germans, even when I won’t drive anything unless it’s built by Toyota) so I wasn’t surprised by his choice.  After endless research, test drives, perusing online reviews and three hours going back and forth with the poor finance guy at the dealership, he bought a loaded out 2014 VW Jetta- diesel.

2014-volkswagen-jetta_2

Black on black, very conservative…but still the German performance thing.

 

I can’t blame him at all for wanting the fuel economy.  50MPG+ is enticing, even with the knowledge that maintenance on a diesel is both more frequent and more costly than on a gasoline car.  The car doesn’t sound like a diesel and doesn’t stink like a diesel, but my frame of reference on diesel cars goes back to the old VW Rabbits from the early ’80s that rattled to beat hell and stunk to holy high heaven.  Over all he ended up with most of the same features as my Corolla (including the obligatory manual transmission), only I have a bit better navi unit and I have automatic climate control.  He has a cute little sunglass holder over the rear view mirror and a bigger trunk. He also ended up with about a $7000 higher price tag than the Corolla- but he has a turbo and more low end torque, which means his car has more power.  Then again, when the German stuff fails it does so in a blaze of expensive and inconvenient glory.  The Japanese stuff doesn’t have quite the performance edge, but it’s generally more reliable and easier to maintain over time.

As I told him, it’s about trade offs.  For me the Corolla has plenty of power.  After all, I live in Ohio.  I usually see at least three cops every morning just driving the three miles from my house to the Y.  I can’t afford to speed.

 ~”Not one state of the fifty has the death penalty for speeding . . . although I’m not so sure about Ohio!”- Brock Yates

Cannonball-Yates-Brock-9780760316337

Not me.  Not in a little black Corolla.  Not ever.

So when he was finally done torturing the finance people at the dealership and he was satisfied that it was OK to sign, we made a little road trip in the diesel beast to try it out.  On the WV turnpike, of course.  I must say in this car’s favor that this was the only time I’ve been down the WV turnpike without being scared shitless from Charleston to Beckley.  Even at 70 MPH there’s no body roll whatsoever on those curves and grades.  I have not driven the WV turnpike in the Corolla for comparison (yet) but the Corolla did surprisingly well on I-40 in Tennessee and NC with similar grades, curves and speed limits.

He’s happy with what he got and I’m happy with what I got.  Different strokes for different folks.  Now if he’d been eyeballing a Kia or a Hyundai, Mommy and the POMC would have had to have a sit-down heart-to-heart regarding why we don’t buy shitty cars, but he knows better.  Way better.