Two years ago on my first day back at work I posted with the same above title.
My rant was simply that I was incredibly bored.
Two years have passed and it seems somethings remain constant. Again it is my first day back at work, while it is a different job the result is still the same. I am bored.
At least there is the silver lining that this year is going to be different. In ten days I will finally find out just how different exactly today will be.
this pleases me.
kahn out.
Showing posts with label So very angry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label So very angry. Show all posts
Monday, 4 January 2010
Monday, 14 April 2008
Vodka & Pepsi
I really wish that's what I had in my Pepsi bottle but I don't. All I have in there is Pepsi. Pepsi and my own distilled rage. Turns out that I hate my new boss (let's call him 'The Mumbler') and I want him dead. I'm kind of hoping that I can hate him to death, but I have a back up plan in case that doesn't work out.
I'd like to encourage all our readers to send in any spare parts from your dooms-day devices, world destroying lasers or spare chemical-warfare toxins to me so that I can try and cobble together some kind of contraption that would end this soul-crushing agony. Seriously, I'd be forever in your debt.
This morning I came in feeling optimistic, after a great weekend, I thought today would be good. Of course I was deluding myself. I can't even get a simple "Good Morning" out of The Mumbler before he starts pissing me off. I'm starting to no longer care which one of us dies as long as it stops the pain.
I'd like to encourage all our readers to send in any spare parts from your dooms-day devices, world destroying lasers or spare chemical-warfare toxins to me so that I can try and cobble together some kind of contraption that would end this soul-crushing agony. Seriously, I'd be forever in your debt.
This morning I came in feeling optimistic, after a great weekend, I thought today would be good. Of course I was deluding myself. I can't even get a simple "Good Morning" out of The Mumbler before he starts pissing me off. I'm starting to no longer care which one of us dies as long as it stops the pain.
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Wait, what month is it?
February you say? The end of it? Well damn! So it's been quite a while since I posted last, but that's ok. Nobody reads it anyhow so I haven't got anyone sending me hate mail because we haven't done anything in the last month. There's something oddly soothing about running a blog with absolutely no readers. We post what we want, when we want and nobody ever complains about it. In fact, when we do hear about it, it's only from the other authors and I can't think of a time when it hasn't been some form of praise. How can you really argue with that?
Anyhow, moving right along, we're once again coming up to another Equinox. I know that few people are overly concerned by this as you follow your more standard holidays, such as Easter or Kwanzaa (what the hell is Kwanzaa?) and that's cool. Around here, both Frejak and I prefer to celebrate something that is far more scientifically proven and far less commercial. Thankfully, our friends respect that much in the same way that we respect their holiday of choice. Actually, I'm eagerly awaiting the day that Kahn decides to start celebrating Kwanzaa. It may not be that far off. Joyous Zwanzaa to you if it happens Kahn! Incidentally, I know that Kwanzaa is at the end of the year, but I'm demonstrating varied traditions of celebration here so shush.
So yeah, Equinox. Since we're in the Southern hemisphere, it's the Autumnal Equinox for us (Vernal if you're in the less trendy Northern hemisphere). With any luck it will signal a change to a cooler temperature and maybe some more rain. While that wasn't a very technical explanation, here's a watered down version for the people outside of our hemisphere:
This is the Equinox that gets a holiday
This is the Chevy Equinox that I hope hits you for not indicating while
changing lanes you dumb-ass.
Did I mention that lately I've been spending a lot more time on the roads? Well I have been and I'm starting to wish I had a bullet for every fucker that doesn't know how to indicate. One of these days I'm going to get hit by one of these morons and they're going to blame me for it. I imagine this is how the conversation will go:
Non-Indicator: "Why don't you watch where you're going dick?!?"
Enraged Salem: "I was watching exactly where I was going when you suddenly and without warning, veered into me you psych ward reject!!!"
[Insert me punching the idiot in the face and saying "Surprise Cock-Face!" here]
Right, this is getting a little off track here. The point of all this was to basically post up something new before the end of the month and also let you know that Equinox will be on March 20th this year. I hope you all have a joyous time. Frejak and I will light an extra candle for all of you... except those fuckers that never indicate.
-Salem
I've started weight training at the gym in preparation for the non-indicators.
Anyhow, moving right along, we're once again coming up to another Equinox. I know that few people are overly concerned by this as you follow your more standard holidays, such as Easter or Kwanzaa (what the hell is Kwanzaa?) and that's cool. Around here, both Frejak and I prefer to celebrate something that is far more scientifically proven and far less commercial. Thankfully, our friends respect that much in the same way that we respect their holiday of choice. Actually, I'm eagerly awaiting the day that Kahn decides to start celebrating Kwanzaa. It may not be that far off. Joyous Zwanzaa to you if it happens Kahn! Incidentally, I know that Kwanzaa is at the end of the year, but I'm demonstrating varied traditions of celebration here so shush.
So yeah, Equinox. Since we're in the Southern hemisphere, it's the Autumnal Equinox for us (Vernal if you're in the less trendy Northern hemisphere). With any luck it will signal a change to a cooler temperature and maybe some more rain. While that wasn't a very technical explanation, here's a watered down version for the people outside of our hemisphere:
This is the Equinox that gets a holiday
This is the Chevy Equinox that I hope hits you for not indicating whilechanging lanes you dumb-ass.
Did I mention that lately I've been spending a lot more time on the roads? Well I have been and I'm starting to wish I had a bullet for every fucker that doesn't know how to indicate. One of these days I'm going to get hit by one of these morons and they're going to blame me for it. I imagine this is how the conversation will go:
Non-Indicator: "Why don't you watch where you're going dick?!?"
Enraged Salem: "I was watching exactly where I was going when you suddenly and without warning, veered into me you psych ward reject!!!"
[Insert me punching the idiot in the face and saying "Surprise Cock-Face!" here]
Right, this is getting a little off track here. The point of all this was to basically post up something new before the end of the month and also let you know that Equinox will be on March 20th this year. I hope you all have a joyous time. Frejak and I will light an extra candle for all of you... except those fuckers that never indicate.
-Salem
I've started weight training at the gym in preparation for the non-indicators.
Monday, 7 January 2008
Rant!!!
Rant rant, rant rant rant. Rant rant rant, rant! Rant rant 1st day back rant rant rant. Rant rant rant over it, rant. Rant rant rant rant wanna go home rant rant rant rant!!! Rant rant rant, how's everyone elses day rant?
Thursday, 29 November 2007
What’s new pussy-cat?
One of us has fallen. Mr. Wiggleman Fizz, The Coca-Cola Cat, Fizzy, Tiny Dancer, Mick Jagger. The Tiny Little Windy Man who loved chewing on plastic bags, chasing moths, and bringing home caterpillars, was too excited about life to look both ways and so sadly, passed away last night. Phrases like “cut down in the prime of his life” and “untimely demise” spring to mind, as do “squished guts” and “dead cat”. I knew from the moment his desire to be outside was greater than his fear of jumping out the window that it was only a matter of time.
The only positive thing you get from an experience like this is a small renewal of faith in humans. A complete stranger knocked on my door, hugged me and carried fizzy inside when it would have been easier to drive on and go home. Another complete stranger, who with tears in his eyes, explained that Fizzy had just run out in front of him, chose to stay and take responsibility for something I’m sure he would rather have pretended didn’t happen. Friends came ‘round and helped to dig his little grave. Other friends have cried and people who hardly knew him have said nice things. His Cuteness touched us all
I’m going to miss him that goes without saying. I loved that freakin’ cat so freakin’ much; anyone who knows me has been bored to the point of mindless drooling by my cat-anecdotes fueled by cat-love. This Saturday has been unofficially declared his wake, so we can all be silly and excited and chase bugs in memory of Fizzy.
I don’t believe in gods or souls or anything like that, so I guess all I can hope for Fizzy, The Good Mr. Wiggleman Fizz, is that science rots him well.
The only positive thing you get from an experience like this is a small renewal of faith in humans. A complete stranger knocked on my door, hugged me and carried fizzy inside when it would have been easier to drive on and go home. Another complete stranger, who with tears in his eyes, explained that Fizzy had just run out in front of him, chose to stay and take responsibility for something I’m sure he would rather have pretended didn’t happen. Friends came ‘round and helped to dig his little grave. Other friends have cried and people who hardly knew him have said nice things. His Cuteness touched us all
I’m going to miss him that goes without saying. I loved that freakin’ cat so freakin’ much; anyone who knows me has been bored to the point of mindless drooling by my cat-anecdotes fueled by cat-love. This Saturday has been unofficially declared his wake, so we can all be silly and excited and chase bugs in memory of Fizzy.
I don’t believe in gods or souls or anything like that, so I guess all I can hope for Fizzy, The Good Mr. Wiggleman Fizz, is that science rots him well.
Friday, 19 October 2007
I Walked Into A Door...
...OR I Am Not Paid Enough To…
Yesterday I walked into a door. It was a big door, a solid door, a metal door, heavy and swinging towards me when I hit it with my noggin. It really hurt. In fact, it still does but the bruise is hidden by my hair so it’s not that impressive (damn it!). I walked into this door when I was suffering from what I can only describe as impotent rage.
I am a receptionist. I sit at the front desk and smile at rich fat cats all day. I am a phone monkey. I pick up that ringing bitch and lie about peoplesis whereabouts. I am the beverage wench. If they want a drink, I get it - water, tea, coffee, milo, beer, wine, rum - and then I even wash the dishes afterwards.
Nowhere in my job description does it say “routinely be insulted by director’s drunken brother”. Nor does it say “observe directors drunken behavior and make important decisions regarding his ability to drive, the welfare of others and the police”. I can’t find the paragraph outlining the requirement to inform clients of what I am wearing or the need to acknowledge what they would like to do to me (which most of the time is take me out for lunch, but frequently it isn’t).
So yesterday, shaking with rage as I considered the treatment that it seems I am expected to tolerate, I didn’t see the door, and smacked my self fair in the head with it.
I’m thinking of asking for a pay rise.
Yesterday I walked into a door. It was a big door, a solid door, a metal door, heavy and swinging towards me when I hit it with my noggin. It really hurt. In fact, it still does but the bruise is hidden by my hair so it’s not that impressive (damn it!). I walked into this door when I was suffering from what I can only describe as impotent rage.
I am a receptionist. I sit at the front desk and smile at rich fat cats all day. I am a phone monkey. I pick up that ringing bitch and lie about peoplesis whereabouts. I am the beverage wench. If they want a drink, I get it - water, tea, coffee, milo, beer, wine, rum - and then I even wash the dishes afterwards.
Nowhere in my job description does it say “routinely be insulted by director’s drunken brother”. Nor does it say “observe directors drunken behavior and make important decisions regarding his ability to drive, the welfare of others and the police”. I can’t find the paragraph outlining the requirement to inform clients of what I am wearing or the need to acknowledge what they would like to do to me (which most of the time is take me out for lunch, but frequently it isn’t).
So yesterday, shaking with rage as I considered the treatment that it seems I am expected to tolerate, I didn’t see the door, and smacked my self fair in the head with it.
I’m thinking of asking for a pay rise.
Tuesday, 25 September 2007
My Pubes Can Bend Light
Yes, you read correctly…and it’s not as cool as it sounds.
Giving in to the little punks inside us, Salem and I embarked on a mission - code name: Awesome Hair. We had the desire all’s we needed were the tools and materials. Stupidly we listened to that long haired brunette in the conservative clothes when she said “This one is the best!” With her cute smile it was hard not to believe her, but I can say now, with the power of retrospect, we were being led into a cunning trap. Purchasing almost $100 worth of supplies we left the armament happy and, well, armed - me with a bounce in my step and a stupid grin, and Salem carrying our inventory with what I have come to know as his excited smirk.
Now I’m just gonna cut to the chase, I’m sick of this flowery descriptive language. Pretty much what happened was, we bleached our hair, me all, him some, and then stuck that stupid RUSK colour in our hair, me Rage Red him Purple Passion and that’s when we got excited because the colours looked freakin' awesome! I’m rather partial to a bit of contrast and so as a spur of the moment thing I decided to do my, ergh, pubes, yes, purple. My head hair was possibly a little redder than I was looking for but still very, very cool.
We hung out in the bathroom watching Aladdin on the lap top until it was time to rinse and that was when we realized that things might not have gone as well as we were hoping. As I rinsed the blood-red from my hair Salem said those dreaded words “Um… There is something I should tell you, um… It’s pink.” I leapt out of the shower and looked in the mirror, and there perched on top of my head was the most hideous pink beast I have ever seen. It was the kind of fluro-pink that makes children and cute puppies cry, can kill the elderly, and makes people like me vomit. I swallowed the chunks and wiped away the small piece of carrot that had escaped at the corner of my mouth. Something vile caught my attention. Poor, poor sweet Salem had been hit by the ugly hair monster as well! The sections on his head that were supposed to be “Purple Passion” had turned granny grey with patches of yellow and brown. I wiped away my tears, put on a brave face and said “No, I like yours!” He wasn’t fooled.
The stress of the ugly hair had gotten too much, we decided it was time for a smoke break, and as we were getting clothed Salem pointed at me and said, “Crumples, where have your pubes gone?” We searched around for a while. They weren’t in the cupboard under the sink, not in my jeans pocket, not hiding behind the shower gel. I was just about to search behind the couch when I felt something - something a little fuzzy - but when I looked down there was nothing there.
“Salem, check this out!” On further inspection we realized that my pubes were right where I left them, only now they were invisible. That’s right, completely invisible. If you looked away and then looked back really quickly you could catch them unawares and you might see a little shimmer, but apart from that, invisible.
Four paragraphs later (so much for that chase I was supposed to cut to) I am pleased to say, that with an injection of 10cc’s of cash Salem’s hair is now the most stunning purple and black arrangement I have ever seen, and mine is on the way back to being the kind of red that isn’t pink. I wrote a very upset email to RUSK explaining my displeasure but am yet to receive a reply. Now if I could only manage to locate my pubes…
Giving in to the little punks inside us, Salem and I embarked on a mission - code name: Awesome Hair. We had the desire all’s we needed were the tools and materials. Stupidly we listened to that long haired brunette in the conservative clothes when she said “This one is the best!” With her cute smile it was hard not to believe her, but I can say now, with the power of retrospect, we were being led into a cunning trap. Purchasing almost $100 worth of supplies we left the armament happy and, well, armed - me with a bounce in my step and a stupid grin, and Salem carrying our inventory with what I have come to know as his excited smirk.
Now I’m just gonna cut to the chase, I’m sick of this flowery descriptive language. Pretty much what happened was, we bleached our hair, me all, him some, and then stuck that stupid RUSK colour in our hair, me Rage Red him Purple Passion and that’s when we got excited because the colours looked freakin' awesome! I’m rather partial to a bit of contrast and so as a spur of the moment thing I decided to do my, ergh, pubes, yes, purple. My head hair was possibly a little redder than I was looking for but still very, very cool.
We hung out in the bathroom watching Aladdin on the lap top until it was time to rinse and that was when we realized that things might not have gone as well as we were hoping. As I rinsed the blood-red from my hair Salem said those dreaded words “Um… There is something I should tell you, um… It’s pink.” I leapt out of the shower and looked in the mirror, and there perched on top of my head was the most hideous pink beast I have ever seen. It was the kind of fluro-pink that makes children and cute puppies cry, can kill the elderly, and makes people like me vomit. I swallowed the chunks and wiped away the small piece of carrot that had escaped at the corner of my mouth. Something vile caught my attention. Poor, poor sweet Salem had been hit by the ugly hair monster as well! The sections on his head that were supposed to be “Purple Passion” had turned granny grey with patches of yellow and brown. I wiped away my tears, put on a brave face and said “No, I like yours!” He wasn’t fooled.
The stress of the ugly hair had gotten too much, we decided it was time for a smoke break, and as we were getting clothed Salem pointed at me and said, “Crumples, where have your pubes gone?” We searched around for a while. They weren’t in the cupboard under the sink, not in my jeans pocket, not hiding behind the shower gel. I was just about to search behind the couch when I felt something - something a little fuzzy - but when I looked down there was nothing there.
“Salem, check this out!” On further inspection we realized that my pubes were right where I left them, only now they were invisible. That’s right, completely invisible. If you looked away and then looked back really quickly you could catch them unawares and you might see a little shimmer, but apart from that, invisible.
Four paragraphs later (so much for that chase I was supposed to cut to) I am pleased to say, that with an injection of 10cc’s of cash Salem’s hair is now the most stunning purple and black arrangement I have ever seen, and mine is on the way back to being the kind of red that isn’t pink. I wrote a very upset email to RUSK explaining my displeasure but am yet to receive a reply. Now if I could only manage to locate my pubes…
Friday, 10 August 2007
Say my name bitch! SAY IT!
AH-HAHAHAHAHA!
That felt reeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaly good.
Ok, quick history for why this is here. Yesterday, I was hijacked at 3:55pm (5 minutes before I waltz out the door to go home) by... let's call him Lispy. Lispy is one of the directors here. He also happens to work in the civil sector. I am in the structural sector, in fact, I am all of the structural sector. So with 5 mintes of my day left, Lispy wants me to patch together a drawing for him. Not a structural drawing I might add, but a civil drawing. Now what the hell am I doing civil work for? I have 2 bridges and a large set of culverts that all needed to be out 2 months ago so I'm busy enough as it is. There are another 10 or 15 people in the civil sector that he could have asked to do this, so what the fuck am I working on a civil drawing for? Suffice to say I was seeing red and ended up leaving half an hour later than I was supposed to. Lispy is on thin ice with me right now, director or not.
This morning I was just waiting. Having completed the task Lispy had set me with the help of some people in the civil sector, I just knew that he'd try and find something wrong with it. Not today Lispy, not today. He seems to think that because I'm only technically a trainee but still doing the work of a lead drafter that I'm something less than human and should be punished. Not today Lispy, not today. He strolled into my cubical with that condescending look on his face that means he's about to start talking to me as if I have the brain capacity of a retarded kitten that's garroting itself with a ball of string. Not today Lispy, not today.
Here's how the conversation went. I've colour coded it for my own amusement and also to pinpoint the precise moment that I achieved total balance.
Lispy: "So I looked at that drawing and you haven't put in the contours that I asked you to."
Salem's Brain: Yeah bullshit I haven't you moron. If anything is missing it's because your trained monkeys in civil didn't give me the correct info or you expected me to read your mind and didn't bother to mention it.
Salem's Mouth: "Really? I followed the instructions that I got from the civil guys."
Lispy: "Well none of it's there. Open the file and I'll show you."
Salem's Brain: Oh here we go, you just want to get me to believe that even though you're an engineer, you can use AutoCAD as well as a trained drafter... didn't you try this yesterday? Oh well, good luck cock-bite, you're going to need it.
Salem's Mouth: "Not a problem. As you can see, I've bound in all the files that you requested."
Lispy: "So where are all the contours then?" (He's getting that pissed off tone at this point)
Salem's Brain: HAHA! Check and mate monkey-boy! So much for being a show off with ACAD. The layer's just turned off. Now, get the fuck out of my cube and back under your bridge dumb-ass!
Salem's Mouth: "You mean all these contours?" (Said while flicking on the required layer)
Lispy: "Never mind."
Salem, The One: "Would you like me to save you a copy with that layer turned on?"
Lispy: (No response as he retreats from my cube)
Not today Lispy, not today. It's Friday, my golden day when I am impervious to all attacks. You fail. Welcome to 'I win day' fucker.
-Salem
Zen. Today I am balanced, controlled and already out the door to start my weekend.
That felt reeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaly good.
Ok, quick history for why this is here. Yesterday, I was hijacked at 3:55pm (5 minutes before I waltz out the door to go home) by... let's call him Lispy. Lispy is one of the directors here. He also happens to work in the civil sector. I am in the structural sector, in fact, I am all of the structural sector. So with 5 mintes of my day left, Lispy wants me to patch together a drawing for him. Not a structural drawing I might add, but a civil drawing. Now what the hell am I doing civil work for? I have 2 bridges and a large set of culverts that all needed to be out 2 months ago so I'm busy enough as it is. There are another 10 or 15 people in the civil sector that he could have asked to do this, so what the fuck am I working on a civil drawing for? Suffice to say I was seeing red and ended up leaving half an hour later than I was supposed to. Lispy is on thin ice with me right now, director or not.
This morning I was just waiting. Having completed the task Lispy had set me with the help of some people in the civil sector, I just knew that he'd try and find something wrong with it. Not today Lispy, not today. He seems to think that because I'm only technically a trainee but still doing the work of a lead drafter that I'm something less than human and should be punished. Not today Lispy, not today. He strolled into my cubical with that condescending look on his face that means he's about to start talking to me as if I have the brain capacity of a retarded kitten that's garroting itself with a ball of string. Not today Lispy, not today.
Here's how the conversation went. I've colour coded it for my own amusement and also to pinpoint the precise moment that I achieved total balance.
Lispy: "So I looked at that drawing and you haven't put in the contours that I asked you to."
Salem's Brain: Yeah bullshit I haven't you moron. If anything is missing it's because your trained monkeys in civil didn't give me the correct info or you expected me to read your mind and didn't bother to mention it.
Salem's Mouth: "Really? I followed the instructions that I got from the civil guys."
Lispy: "Well none of it's there. Open the file and I'll show you."
Salem's Brain: Oh here we go, you just want to get me to believe that even though you're an engineer, you can use AutoCAD as well as a trained drafter... didn't you try this yesterday? Oh well, good luck cock-bite, you're going to need it.
Salem's Mouth: "Not a problem. As you can see, I've bound in all the files that you requested."
Lispy: "So where are all the contours then?" (He's getting that pissed off tone at this point)
Salem's Brain: HAHA! Check and mate monkey-boy! So much for being a show off with ACAD. The layer's just turned off. Now, get the fuck out of my cube and back under your bridge dumb-ass!
Salem's Mouth: "You mean all these contours?" (Said while flicking on the required layer)
Lispy: "Never mind."
Salem, The One: "Would you like me to save you a copy with that layer turned on?"
Lispy: (No response as he retreats from my cube)
Not today Lispy, not today. It's Friday, my golden day when I am impervious to all attacks. You fail. Welcome to 'I win day' fucker.
-Salem
Zen. Today I am balanced, controlled and already out the door to start my weekend.
Friday, 8 June 2007
American logic strikes again.
Here's an article that highlights why Australians have such a low opinion of Americans in general. I think you should read it very carefully.
And here's the source: Network World
Now, I understand that there are a few smart people over in the U.S. but this just grinds my gears. Don't mess with a guy that's got a spot at the World Poker Championship! Actually, just don't mess with people who play poker. It's just not right.
-Salem
Sore losers? Nah.... couldn't be. It's a casino, they never lose!
Casino bans author of Word for being lucky
Submitted by Paul McNamara on
Thu, 06/07/2007 - 2:42pm.
Gambling is for suckers ... and I love it anyway.
But the truth of the first part is what makes this next part so unfathomable: The casino moguls at Harrah's Entertainment have barred Richard "Quiet Lion" Brodie - best known as the original author of Microsoft Word - from gambling in or entering any of its properties, including Caesar's Palace, home of the World Series of Poker.
Brodie's crime?
No, he didn't cheat.
He's been too lucky.
Brodie explains on his blog:
On May 10, Harrah's sent certified letters to several high rollers informing them that their business was no longer wanted at Caesars Palace or any of the other Harrah's properties in Nevada, California, and Arizona. I was one of them. I called the office of Tom Jenkins, regional vice president, and got a call back from Terry Byrnes, the VP of customer service. He told me I was being 86ed because they couldn't figure out how to make a profit off me.
Now understand, the only games I play are poker and video poker. In poker, the house makes a 100% guaranteed profit straight off the top. In video poker, the house controls every aspect of the game: the pay tables, the amount of the house edge, and the promotions and incentives they offer. There is no way to use skill - or even cheat - to beat video poker. You can't count cards. You can't peek at the dealer's hole card. It's a machine. The best you could possibly hope for is to play computer-perfect, which I don't, and even if that were possible the machine still has a maximum theoretical payout chosen by the casino. The only thing the casino can't control is luck. One reason I like video poker is because you can get lucky and win. You hit a royal flush every 40,000 hands or so. If you're lucky enough to hit two, you're ahead! If you hit three, you're ahead for a long time!
Boy, have I been lucky at Harrah's.
I hit four huge royal flushes in the last year at three of the Las Vegas Harrah's properties. Not surprisingly, I'm ahead, although I've put 80% of it back. This seems to rub them the wrong way. But I have trouble imagining the thought process that would cause someone to decide that kicking out one of your most loyal customers is an appropriate solution to the problem of him having extremely good luck. If they think the machines are too loose, make them tighter. If they think they are giving me too much in comps, give less. They control every aspect of the game. Except luck. And kicking out players who have been lucky makes about as much sense as banning people from playing the lottery because they win it.
Doesn't make a lick of sense. Of course, it just goes to show that the private interests who control gambling in this country are every bit as unprincipled and hypocritical as the government interests who share that control.
You need to be a poker player to understand Brodie's anguish at being denied his seat at the World Series of Poker.
But you don't even need to be a gambler to understand the stupidity and injustice here.
And here's the source: Network World
Now, I understand that there are a few smart people over in the U.S. but this just grinds my gears. Don't mess with a guy that's got a spot at the World Poker Championship! Actually, just don't mess with people who play poker. It's just not right.
-Salem
Sore losers? Nah.... couldn't be. It's a casino, they never lose!
Wednesday, 6 June 2007
That dog won't hunt Monsegnior.
For those of you that wish to avoid hearing me voice my opinions on 'Architects', please leave now. I know that since I've started working in the civil sector as opposed to the industrial sector I've started to go on about this more and more. To try and save a few friends, I think it vital to start giving you fair warning when I'm about to revisit this topic. Here it is:
Disclaimer: I am about to let loose some venom-filled verbal abuse about how useless architects are. There will be excruciatingly broad generalisations and most importantly, a lot of humiliation and dishonour heaped high upon them. If for some reason you suffer from a serious brain deficiency and are sympathetic to their plights, turn away now.
Start of Rant:
I have but two very simple, yet poignant questions that I wish to ask of architects. This is problematic as I fear that many of them can not communicate with normal humans any more. I suppose that if I was willing I could source an ape that, while having learned sign language, still enjoys slinging its own feces at other apes and ask if it would be willing to act as some sort of go-between for myself and the first of these raving mad-men that I managed to capture. The main reason that I am not embarking on this 'epic quest of discovery' is that I think the overwhelming urge to 'cleanse' the wayward soul from the earth would be too strong for me to resist. Never the less, I will press on and ask my questions. I may never receive an answer that makes any sense, but whose fault will that be? Not mine sir, not mine.
My first question is the one that causes me the most pain. How can an architect working in a CAD program not manage to draw with any sort of accuracy what so ever? I make a living working inside a CAD program. Granted, I use AutoCAD which is one of the high-end programs for computer aided drawing, but honestly... even people in MS Paint manage to get lines to connect at corners, so what could you possibly offer as an excuse? When I say that I find it more inconvenient to not connect lines at intersections or draw them at the correct length, you should realise that I am very serious. As I said, this causes me a great deal of pain because drawing accurately is so very simple in CAD programs that you would have to make an effort to be so thoroughly hopeless.
And now for my second question. It may seem a little more philosophical than the first but still, I don't think that it should really be as hard to answer as an architect would want you to believe. What is the good of an architect? In years gone by, I could understand it. Back in the glory days of architecture, these men and women were pinnacles of creativity and knowledge. There was a time when the architect was not only designing the way a structure would look, but also how it would manage to stay standing. They were in short vital to the expansion of society. Now, they have fallen. We have engineers who are much more able to make a structure withstand the conditions that they will need to face in order to keep erect. We have landscapers to arrange the gardens and surrounding greenery. There are interior decorators that can work wonders with the internal space of any structure offered them. Then of course there are the humble drafters who at the direction of a client can lay out their visions of grandeur accurately within the digital realm. I have in the past, drawn up structures clear enough to be understood by even the most common of clients and which are still perfect for use by the builders. Not a 2D person? No problem! I can turn practically any set of 2D's into a 100% accurate 3D model in no time. So if there are all these people that can do everything an architect used to, why are they still plaguing me with their useless scribblings that cost me more time to try and correct than if I just redew the whole thing myself?
Mark my words, as soon as I have my qualifications and can call myself not just a 'cadet structural drafter' but a 'structural design drafter', I'm going to start doing my best to push these repugnant remnants out of the market. I may once have trained to join their ranks, but right now were Satan himself standing between me and the first person to now confuse me with one of their kind, then tomorrow Jesus would be advertising for a new Lord of Hell. Who knows, I may even apply for the job. Since most of the people there are likely to be either lawyers, accountants or architects, I think I could be just the man they'd need.
End of Rant.
Sorry about that. Just needed to vent some frustration.
-Salem
What? Did you really think Zen meant no anger?
Disclaimer: I am about to let loose some venom-filled verbal abuse about how useless architects are. There will be excruciatingly broad generalisations and most importantly, a lot of humiliation and dishonour heaped high upon them. If for some reason you suffer from a serious brain deficiency and are sympathetic to their plights, turn away now.
Start of Rant:
I have but two very simple, yet poignant questions that I wish to ask of architects. This is problematic as I fear that many of them can not communicate with normal humans any more. I suppose that if I was willing I could source an ape that, while having learned sign language, still enjoys slinging its own feces at other apes and ask if it would be willing to act as some sort of go-between for myself and the first of these raving mad-men that I managed to capture. The main reason that I am not embarking on this 'epic quest of discovery' is that I think the overwhelming urge to 'cleanse' the wayward soul from the earth would be too strong for me to resist. Never the less, I will press on and ask my questions. I may never receive an answer that makes any sense, but whose fault will that be? Not mine sir, not mine.
My first question is the one that causes me the most pain. How can an architect working in a CAD program not manage to draw with any sort of accuracy what so ever? I make a living working inside a CAD program. Granted, I use AutoCAD which is one of the high-end programs for computer aided drawing, but honestly... even people in MS Paint manage to get lines to connect at corners, so what could you possibly offer as an excuse? When I say that I find it more inconvenient to not connect lines at intersections or draw them at the correct length, you should realise that I am very serious. As I said, this causes me a great deal of pain because drawing accurately is so very simple in CAD programs that you would have to make an effort to be so thoroughly hopeless.
And now for my second question. It may seem a little more philosophical than the first but still, I don't think that it should really be as hard to answer as an architect would want you to believe. What is the good of an architect? In years gone by, I could understand it. Back in the glory days of architecture, these men and women were pinnacles of creativity and knowledge. There was a time when the architect was not only designing the way a structure would look, but also how it would manage to stay standing. They were in short vital to the expansion of society. Now, they have fallen. We have engineers who are much more able to make a structure withstand the conditions that they will need to face in order to keep erect. We have landscapers to arrange the gardens and surrounding greenery. There are interior decorators that can work wonders with the internal space of any structure offered them. Then of course there are the humble drafters who at the direction of a client can lay out their visions of grandeur accurately within the digital realm. I have in the past, drawn up structures clear enough to be understood by even the most common of clients and which are still perfect for use by the builders. Not a 2D person? No problem! I can turn practically any set of 2D's into a 100% accurate 3D model in no time. So if there are all these people that can do everything an architect used to, why are they still plaguing me with their useless scribblings that cost me more time to try and correct than if I just redew the whole thing myself?
Mark my words, as soon as I have my qualifications and can call myself not just a 'cadet structural drafter' but a 'structural design drafter', I'm going to start doing my best to push these repugnant remnants out of the market. I may once have trained to join their ranks, but right now were Satan himself standing between me and the first person to now confuse me with one of their kind, then tomorrow Jesus would be advertising for a new Lord of Hell. Who knows, I may even apply for the job. Since most of the people there are likely to be either lawyers, accountants or architects, I think I could be just the man they'd need.
End of Rant.
Sorry about that. Just needed to vent some frustration.
-Salem
What? Did you really think Zen meant no anger?
Monday, 28 May 2007
What the hell is this?
So it's been a while, I know. Today is special though. My boss is going to attempt a new record: Most number of days in a week where he waits until 4:00pm to give me any work.
This is fun because I leave the office at 4:30pm. I've got $5.00 that says I have it finished before he gets in tomorrow at around 8:30am - 9:00am. Then I'll have to go back to fixing my spillway.
Also, here's a message for the former structural drafter at my work: Fuck you TT! I hope your head gets crushed in a bizzar felching competition mishap you fucking retard. Learn to draw or stay the fuck away from ACAD!I ever see you around here again and (doing my best Jack Nicholson impression) "I'll rip off your head and piss in your dead skull! You fucked with the wrong drafter!"
-Salem
Only pussies die from embolisms! Suck it up you girly-men!
This is fun because I leave the office at 4:30pm. I've got $5.00 that says I have it finished before he gets in tomorrow at around 8:30am - 9:00am. Then I'll have to go back to fixing my spillway.
Also, here's a message for the former structural drafter at my work: Fuck you TT! I hope your head gets crushed in a bizzar felching competition mishap you fucking retard. Learn to draw or stay the fuck away from ACAD!
-Salem
Only pussies die from embolisms! Suck it up you girly-men!
Friday, 23 March 2007
Versatility Plus
To add to my last post, think on this. Recently, somebody converted an Xbox 360 into a handy lap-top style configuration. It's pretty nifty and is one of the more well known console customisation projects. Take a look, it's really quite interesting.
Pretty cool huh? I'd be stoaked to own one of these myself.
Moving on, what have the PS3 people got I wonder? Perhaps the first 3rd gen system that can fly you to safety in event of a volcanic erruption? No, they have something even better! They have... The Grill! Yeah, people were willing to pay a thousand bucks just to rip one asunder and implant a George Forman Grill into it. Nothing says 'Loyalty to my chosen system' more than trashing one and making a grill.
And for those that can't get enough, there's a website devoted to this. I love the world in which I live.
-Salem
I really should see if there are any cool Wii mods out there...
Pretty cool huh? I'd be stoaked to own one of these myself.Moving on, what have the PS3 people got I wonder? Perhaps the first 3rd gen system that can fly you to safety in event of a volcanic erruption? No, they have something even better! They have... The Grill! Yeah, people were willing to pay a thousand bucks just to rip one asunder and implant a George Forman Grill into it. Nothing says 'Loyalty to my chosen system' more than trashing one and making a grill.
And for those that can't get enough, there's a website devoted to this. I love the world in which I live.-Salem
I really should see if there are any cool Wii mods out there...
Death to the Sony and the media!
I have not the words to describe how much I hate the media, specifically our so called "News". Practically everywhere you go on the net, you find horrible reports about the PS3 and to be honest, you wont get anything better here. That they think $1000.00 is a fair price for a game system is a travesty. My point is though that our "reputable news broardcasts" are making the PS3 out to be the biggest and best thing in the world ever. THE PS2 IS STILL OUTSELLING IT AS ARE THE XBOX 360 AND THE Wii!!!
Sorry about that, but I hate the way the media think that they can tell you what you should like based on who pays them the most to say it. Screw that. The sales are bad, the attitude that Sony have is bad, the planning is even worse than when Microsoft released the original Xbox and on the whole, I'm sick of them and yet the news here is portraying the PS3 as if the only reason electricity was harnesed was to power it.
I want Sony to die and I want them to die now. As a life-long gamer, I am offended by both the behaviour of Sony and the worms that do their bidding. Grow a spine and tell Sony to go fuck themselves.
-Salem
I just can't accept Sony being on my planet anymore.
Sorry about that, but I hate the way the media think that they can tell you what you should like based on who pays them the most to say it. Screw that. The sales are bad, the attitude that Sony have is bad, the planning is even worse than when Microsoft released the original Xbox and on the whole, I'm sick of them and yet the news here is portraying the PS3 as if the only reason electricity was harnesed was to power it.
I want Sony to die and I want them to die now. As a life-long gamer, I am offended by both the behaviour of Sony and the worms that do their bidding. Grow a spine and tell Sony to go fuck themselves.
-Salem
I just can't accept Sony being on my planet anymore.
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