Written by capnasty

It's finally over. School. No more silly drivel, no more teachers pointless assignments. If now I could only find the time to get some sleep.

You see, school, despite the fact that it took up most of the time of my classmates and myself (and money. Lots of it too, actually), was a drag. Especially the last semester where we got fucked over with an extra $200 in tuition for just 3 classes. Or rather, one class on god-knows-what with a teacher who introduced herself as belonging to the Church of Scientology (if she had any expectations to receive any sort of respect from us, she blew her chance right there and then). The other two "classes" we had to endure weren't really classes. One was placement. Which we had to find ourselves, despite the fact that we were told the school would find it for us ("Oh haven't you heard? There has been a change in the curriculum!" For the first time in history curriculums are actually followed), and of course, an independent study project.

But we're an organized bunch, despite the fact that we are lazy and hate this course more than our under-payed overworked jobs. So we all did the projects of a mediocre quality. After all, if they are all the same, are they really mediocre? If nobody does an assignment, was it really assigned? I think Friday we're all going to get lushed.

My plans to sleep for a week and veg went out the window. If it's not my wonderful family that wakes me up because sleeping in late (anything after 9) is a sin (and you know, it's your only day off, you could do something in the house, like reshingle the roof!) I'm in the all-to-common been-there-too-many-times search to find a job in order to be autonomous again. It's not that I don't appreciate the "generosity" of my family, I'd just like to sleep and be left the fuck alone.

In the mean time, as I spend most of the little money I have on envelopes and stamps and coloured copies of a few selected pages of my portfolio to send along with my curriculum, I started my new job working at a local ISP. This job sucks. As Jason MacIsaac once said, the word "suck" doesn't really express what's wrong with it. Clearly, I'm not happy with it, but the word keeps popping up like a zit. I could talk about the know-it-all chatterbox sitting next to me and SUCKS SUCKS SUCKS due to her behaviour. You get the idea.

I really shouldn't be complaining all that much. Most of the people here are nice, some go out of their way to answer my questions and even the clients that call, with questions that make you wonder how they go through their lives functioning with their basic needs (like breathing), are nice. But all it takes is that one person you have no choice but to see everyday to trip your nutsack in a frenzy of dickplay.

I am stuck with the same shift as Chatter-box, a gentle soul that can't shut-up (until I told her she should let me finish my sentences before she starts wallowing in senseless stupidity to counter my opinion), gloats with the amazing knowledge she has (how Unix is user-friendly and Windows is not) and when you try to correct her, you have to hear long boring diatribes on how she's right and you're wrong. And if the boss says "don't talk to the admin guys because they get annoyed" (they get annoyed at Chatter-box because she has been here 5 months and I've learned more than her in 2 weeks), when I go and talk to them, because they told me they don't mind (having half a clue is always good), she has to give me yet another long lecture handed down by our great fearless leader.

I'm glad I don't have access to automatic weapons, but I suppose, pretty soon, my phone will become a dangerous weapon. One more senseless argument from her and her tiny Christmas tree sitting next to my monitor will make a trip up someone's rectum. So help me God.


Alan sends his cheers of worship to Cult Hero:

cult hero looks like an ordinary, over worked, computer genius know-how. However, deep undercover, he and the followers ofhis cult, spread fear and terror in the hearts of spammers. ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^I love this guy.


William, from the Purple rabbit runners, writes:

Flick, flick. Inhaling deeply, he relaxes to the latest challenge.

CoN: I wonder how many people know what an aphorism is.

First, for dullards like me, the definition:aphorism n : a short pithy instructive saying.

Hmm. Seems like a rather pointless question. Perfect! Just like my life! And, just like my life, I keep wondering what it really means. And do I have to wait for the end to get the answer? Hmm, better not get into meaning of life here. Especially mine, I have a feeling it's to serve as a joke for cretins and bitches who are all going to get a laugh out of it. (JM is also S5)

Hmm, how many people know that dumps are closed for Thanksgiving? (a pointless US holiday which celebrates the beginning of the slaughter of the people who were here before us after they taught us how to survive) (a suggestion for next year: continue the tradition. Invite a lot of guests. After a wonderful big meal, and they are all slow and fat, kill them.)

(repeat first line)

I am a member of the alices restaurant anti-massacree movement. You can get anything you want at Alice's restaurant. 'Cepting Alice.

Since the question was pointless, so is the answer. 42. If you were to ask each person individually you would get 42 who knew exactly what it meant. How do I know? Ask the dolphins, they'll tell you. But you gotta find them first.

Life is short, and the art is long. -Hippocrates


IGNORE the HYPE responds:

Hey Leo,

Another great issue. Legal Hog Calling was a good read. As for the Job Interviews piece - I bet she didn't get the job <g>

CoN: I wonder how many people know what an aphorism is.

4 counting Morbus <g>


Amergin curses all ye ignorants of the ways of the army of darkness:

I'm shocked that people don't recognize this quote. "I said it basically" From the last of a line of great movies. Army of Darkness: Evil Dead 3 now available on DVD digitally THX remastered and with the original ending.


Ron Chmara trips his nutsack:

So there you go - time to get your collective C.C.C.P. nutsacksflippin' in a frenzy of dickplay ... or just take my comments as adevil's advocate type of rable rousing for my own amusement....<g>

How apropos...see below.

Sometimes people here in France ask me about the litigation situation in North America. They've all read about, for example,the genius who won millions from MacDonald's after she spilledtheir coffee on her lap and it was HOT. Now she's the richestlitigant on her block because MacDonald's neglected to explainthat if she tried to drive and eat plastic muffins and applyMaybelline Superlash and drink hot coffee all at the same time,she might spill something on the tender inner thigh region.

Pardon my language, but let's look at this from her perspective:She got some coffee. She put it in her lap. Now, we're all been burned by coffee, it sucks, ho hum, next annoyance... but this was not an ordinary burn. This was second and third degree burns to her crotch. Blisters. Peeling skin. Stuff that was suppsed to be attached was falling off. She wasn't some 20-year old kid, she was somewhat elderly, if I remember correctly, so she's probaly had hot coffee spilled on her a couple million times. This wasn't exactly just "hot coffee".

If your jewelbox was burned, peeling, blistering, and flaking like a Chicken McNugget, and the company's idea of "taking care of it" was to give you..."more coffee!"...is your nutsack burning and blistered, peeling off, feeling like it's on fire, for a few months, worth a cup of coffee? Or would you want to *sue the fuckers* for every agonizing, painful, movement you had to suffer until you healed?

I got a buck, we'll find out! :-)


Jason MacIsaac responds:

Ok, I have no real problem with someone fleecing McDonald out of a lot of money. Hell, maybe I'm jealous of this old lady because I didn't think of it first.

Okay, let's agree for a moment that coffee was way too hot. Like surface of Mercury hot. That fact is that that there are certain things you just don't put next to your goodies. Raw uncontained plutonium. A Glock with a history of misfiring. A Rabid Siberian Nard-eating Hamster. Hot coffee in the disposal cups from restaurants, which aren't known for their sturdiness.

But all right, she's human and did something stupid. And McDonalds did have the coffee way too hot. So she should get a formal apology from them. Her medical bills covered. Compensated for time off work. Maybe even some extra cash for pain and suffering.

But she got a multi-million dollar settlement instead. For doing something that she shouldn't have done. She got rich off the backs of McDonalds. On the one hand, good for her. On the other hand, now everybody is realizing: Hey, I can turn the fact that I'm too stupid to safely walk the streets into an advantage! Remember this the day someone picks up a hammer that happens to belong to you and uses the claw to pick their nose and decides to sue you after the blood starts flowing. It was your hammer. Why didn't you put a warning label on it? Why didn't you know that some idiot was going to come along and put a few extra holes in their head? Cough up $20 million.

This lawsuit sets a precedent--you are not responsible for yourself. Other people are. In real legal systems, people who do dumb things are told they'll be jailed for contempt if they ever waste the court's time again. Bugger up your life if you want, but don't come crying for a handout when you do.