A quick rundown of my New Year's Eve
5am Wake up for some god forsaken reason.
5:15 am Play some games on Facebook arcade and my tablet.
5:45 am Download Spotify onto my laptop, another thing to get it closer to the functionality of my last laptop.
6am Listen to some of "The Fellas" on Fox Sports Radio, which is becoming one of my favorite radio shows.
6:30 am Throw a quick blog entry onto my page.
7:00 am Get ready and head out the door to what should be a long New Years Eve.
7:30 am Catch a 54 C to the Strip for my last breakfast out of 2016. Next foray should be Sundae Saturday next week.
8:05 am Already seated and order is in. Went with the stuffed banana pepper omelet. Yumm!!!!
9am Finished breakfast though my eyes were bigger than my stomach. The homemade sausage in the omelet was delicious though.
9:05 am Arrive at Scratch N Dent to check out grocery specials.
9:20 am Finished shopping, decent amount of good deals today including Toaster Strudels, which i haven't had in years.
9:45 am Arrive at work.
1:20 pm Got most of my bullshit tasks out of the way, invoices broken down, eggs boiled for making egg salad Monday, pipe order checked in and priced, lottery settled and balanced and got my bus pass for the new year. No need to thank me for the changes to the Port Authority kids, but recognizing my greatness never hurts either.
3 pm Start working the shift i am scheduled for, 3 - 11, even though i have been here for 5 hours already. Hoping i don't get stuck in the shit show downtown will invariably become.
5 pm Two hours in and i am bored out of my skull. We are never busy on this day, all of the fun stuff happens in Market Square and the former porn district. Just trying to stick it out because, well, Vancouver.
6 pm Still way slow here, i will be lucky to ring $500 in sales for the entire night. I am thinking back to breakfast, where i saw the proprietor, the famous Kelly O, in the store at 8 am. I would never see my boss at 8 am, or on a Saturday for that matter.
7:12 pm Still abysmally slow, just listening to my 2016 Spotify list ( see last blog for more details on that ) and intermittently sitting on a milk crate and smoking cigarettes. Think Vancouver Matt.
7:50 pm Wondering which will happen first, my playlist runs out of music or my shift ends. Probably get close to closing time for the porn shop upstairs, so anyone with porn related needs best get cracking.
9:08 pm Just texted Brian that I am leaving at 10pm, as i have yet to break $400 in sales (i am a manager, i can check such things), pointless for two of us to be standing here right now.
10:08 pm At the bus stop, in a homeward bound direction I hope, my feet are killing me after being in new shoes for 12 +hours.
10:15 pm Bus arrives, headed home, not as much fun with the Scratch N Dent groceries in tow, but it beats being downtown.
10:20 pm Fuck, stuck in hockey traffic. At least i am sitting now and not standing. Just got one of those bus announcements about the changes coming on Sunday. Again, no need to thank me Pittsburgh, though i am going to continue to take credit for it.
10:44 pm I am home, just started making dinner. My feet are happy to be free of the shoes, but at this rate i may be asleep before the New Year kicks in.
11:50. Okay my belly is full, time for bed i think.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
B365V3.61 - Listen up
I received the inspiration for this blog from a friend's blog (thanks Erin). To be honest I never knew this feature existed until I saw it on her page, but since I now know about its existence, as the old adage goes, sharing is caring. Happy New Year everyone!!!!
Friday, December 30, 2016
B365V3.60 - Death
Since death has been so much in the news the last few weeks, I guess I should write about a passing on the home front as well. It is not a passing that one needs to shed a tear over though, rather it is a passing of my shoes, which had reached a point of almost unwearableness.
To anyone who hs read my blog before you know this, to any newbies, I am going to save you time spent searching the archives he and come out and say I usually do not mourn the passing of articles of clothing. If I were that attached to clothing, the lowest form on that list would most likely be shoes, as I go through them about every 6 months or so. In truth, this pair lasted a little longer than others, I picked them up in early March, and while technically they can still fit comfortably on my feet, I have a tendency of my shoes splitting at the sides, the first hole normally forming where my smallest toe is (the piggy that cried wee, wee, wee all the way home if memory serves me well enough), then the expanse groes down and along the side of the shoe until it looks like a pair of shoes the Incredible Hulk was wearing before he "hulked out". So while I pronounce these shoes dead, technically I will still wear them on short trips to take the garbage out and what not, there is something to be said for comfortableness after all.
I picked these shoes up at that famous shoe place, Burlington Coat Factory, because, naturally, when one thinks shoes. I remember I had bought them on the way back from one of my breakfast forays in the Strip prior to vacation. I was walking back and my shitty shoes at the time were taking on water, much like the biblical ark would have with all of that shit they said was on board was actually on board and not a biblical fairy tale. I had a couple extra shekels in my pocket and was thinking of a quick solution between breakfast and work. Originally I figured I would walk into town, then catch a bus to the Waterfront and hit up DSW shoe warehouse, but as I was getting closer to town (I usually walk into work after breakfast in the Strip) my feet were getting soggier and soggier and I got to the corner of Liberty and Smithfield and came to the realization that I was not going to be able to tolerate the squish squish in my shoes for the time it would take to go on a shopping trip and then make my way back to work. I started thinking of alternate solutions, they are (or were) a couple of Payless Shoe stores downtown, but their shoes are incredibly bad for me, if a normal pair of shoes lasts me 6 months, I will be lucky to get two months from anything there. But then I realized Burlington is between where I am and where I need to go, I knew they had some guy stuff (I bought my first leather coat there) so it was worth a peek to see what they had.
Sure enough, they had a shoe section, so I quickly found a pair of Adidas in my size, (not that I care about brands, just shooting for factual accuracy here) and while I didn't try them on in the store, (I did still have the squishy feet after all) I bought them and went into work, where the first thing I did was change shoes (and socks, I also bought socks) and got back to a dry, shoe covered state of footage.
The shoes, while not Cinderella glass slipper perfect (who wanted to go to that damn ball anyway, bunch of stuck up snobs), were comfy enough and thus became a part of my everyday wardrobe. It wasn't until today, when I had money in my pocket and a need for new shoes though, when I realized everything I had put those Adidas shoes through. They were on my feet for Vancouver, so they logged 30+ miles on that trip alone, they walked the Stanley Seawall after all, plus trips from my hotel to Gastown, and Chinatown and Granville Island plus numerous trips around downtown there, just to acclimate myself to the surroundings. They also survived a number of my Sunday strolls, countless walks back to work from breakfast at Kelly O's. If I could award them a medal for meritorious service I would, but they are fucking shoes after all, they wouldn't appreciate it. Maybe I should put them in a reed boat and set it aflame on the Monongahela River or something.
To anyone who hs read my blog before you know this, to any newbies, I am going to save you time spent searching the archives he and come out and say I usually do not mourn the passing of articles of clothing. If I were that attached to clothing, the lowest form on that list would most likely be shoes, as I go through them about every 6 months or so. In truth, this pair lasted a little longer than others, I picked them up in early March, and while technically they can still fit comfortably on my feet, I have a tendency of my shoes splitting at the sides, the first hole normally forming where my smallest toe is (the piggy that cried wee, wee, wee all the way home if memory serves me well enough), then the expanse groes down and along the side of the shoe until it looks like a pair of shoes the Incredible Hulk was wearing before he "hulked out". So while I pronounce these shoes dead, technically I will still wear them on short trips to take the garbage out and what not, there is something to be said for comfortableness after all.
I picked these shoes up at that famous shoe place, Burlington Coat Factory, because, naturally, when one thinks shoes. I remember I had bought them on the way back from one of my breakfast forays in the Strip prior to vacation. I was walking back and my shitty shoes at the time were taking on water, much like the biblical ark would have with all of that shit they said was on board was actually on board and not a biblical fairy tale. I had a couple extra shekels in my pocket and was thinking of a quick solution between breakfast and work. Originally I figured I would walk into town, then catch a bus to the Waterfront and hit up DSW shoe warehouse, but as I was getting closer to town (I usually walk into work after breakfast in the Strip) my feet were getting soggier and soggier and I got to the corner of Liberty and Smithfield and came to the realization that I was not going to be able to tolerate the squish squish in my shoes for the time it would take to go on a shopping trip and then make my way back to work. I started thinking of alternate solutions, they are (or were) a couple of Payless Shoe stores downtown, but their shoes are incredibly bad for me, if a normal pair of shoes lasts me 6 months, I will be lucky to get two months from anything there. But then I realized Burlington is between where I am and where I need to go, I knew they had some guy stuff (I bought my first leather coat there) so it was worth a peek to see what they had.
Sure enough, they had a shoe section, so I quickly found a pair of Adidas in my size, (not that I care about brands, just shooting for factual accuracy here) and while I didn't try them on in the store, (I did still have the squishy feet after all) I bought them and went into work, where the first thing I did was change shoes (and socks, I also bought socks) and got back to a dry, shoe covered state of footage.
The shoes, while not Cinderella glass slipper perfect (who wanted to go to that damn ball anyway, bunch of stuck up snobs), were comfy enough and thus became a part of my everyday wardrobe. It wasn't until today, when I had money in my pocket and a need for new shoes though, when I realized everything I had put those Adidas shoes through. They were on my feet for Vancouver, so they logged 30+ miles on that trip alone, they walked the Stanley Seawall after all, plus trips from my hotel to Gastown, and Chinatown and Granville Island plus numerous trips around downtown there, just to acclimate myself to the surroundings. They also survived a number of my Sunday strolls, countless walks back to work from breakfast at Kelly O's. If I could award them a medal for meritorious service I would, but they are fucking shoes after all, they wouldn't appreciate it. Maybe I should put them in a reed boat and set it aflame on the Monongahela River or something.
Sunday, December 25, 2016
B365V3.59 - Reflections
This time of year always makes me sadly reflective. Partly because there is no motivation behind it for me, and while in a week or so I am sure many of you will go about making New Year's resolutions, and many of those will be broken within the first week or so of the new year, I am not one to go about making life changes based on a specific date on the calendar.
Still as I scroll my Facebook feed today, seeing lost of pictures of Christmas trees and families happily opening presents, I can not be bothered with trees or decorating, because it would just be for me. I think about what it would be like to have a family of my own at this time of year, the whole process of putting up a tree and placing presents underneath it, of being woken up at 4am by my kids, as they hope to get an early start on the festivities. Then a dull sadness overcomes me, as that person is never going to be me.
It has nothing to do with the ability, chances are I could get married some day and it could be with someone who is capable of having children but the math doesn't work out anymore. Let's face it, at 47, I am closer to my death than my birth at this point. Even if all of the above were to magically take place in the next couple of hours, which would be pushing the limits of probability to their extreme, I would be 64 by the time my imaginary offspring were learning to drive, well into my 70s while trying to figure out how to pay for their college. The math no longer adds up on that front.
Not that there haven't been opportunities in the past, but those relationships dissolved for necessary reasons, if a child were to have come from one of them, I can only think how bad it would have been for them. While there are plenty of single parent families out there, I tend to think of kids much like the old rule of visiting a national park, they should be left in a better place than when you had found them. I can't see any of those relationships doing anything of the sort for any potential offspring that could have sprung.
So while Facebook is ful of joyous pictures today, it is also a reminder of my life choices to this point, and not necessarily great ones.
Still as I scroll my Facebook feed today, seeing lost of pictures of Christmas trees and families happily opening presents, I can not be bothered with trees or decorating, because it would just be for me. I think about what it would be like to have a family of my own at this time of year, the whole process of putting up a tree and placing presents underneath it, of being woken up at 4am by my kids, as they hope to get an early start on the festivities. Then a dull sadness overcomes me, as that person is never going to be me.
It has nothing to do with the ability, chances are I could get married some day and it could be with someone who is capable of having children but the math doesn't work out anymore. Let's face it, at 47, I am closer to my death than my birth at this point. Even if all of the above were to magically take place in the next couple of hours, which would be pushing the limits of probability to their extreme, I would be 64 by the time my imaginary offspring were learning to drive, well into my 70s while trying to figure out how to pay for their college. The math no longer adds up on that front.
Not that there haven't been opportunities in the past, but those relationships dissolved for necessary reasons, if a child were to have come from one of them, I can only think how bad it would have been for them. While there are plenty of single parent families out there, I tend to think of kids much like the old rule of visiting a national park, they should be left in a better place than when you had found them. I can't see any of those relationships doing anything of the sort for any potential offspring that could have sprung.
So while Facebook is ful of joyous pictures today, it is also a reminder of my life choices to this point, and not necessarily great ones.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
B365V3,58 - Christmas conundrums
I came ill prepared today. I have been meaning to bang out a Christmas
blog, and some of thoughts started ruminating in my cranium about which
way I wanted to go. Finally I had enough disconnected ideas in my head
that I thought I might be able to put together a blog entry of sorts but when I went to leave work I decided I would put $20 in the instant
ticket machine, only to win $100. Winning isn't bad, just ask Charlie
Sheen, but winning meant I decided to treat myself to dinner at the
venerable Squirrel Cage, which leaves me blogging on my tablet. My
tablet is good for lots of things, blogging however is not one of them.
Anyway, since this is supposed to be Christmas themed, I should start by saying Merry Christmas to all of my blog readers (all two of you). Cant say as I am amped up for the holiday, I even cut my shopping way back this year. This year it just feels like another day on the calendar.
Not that I have ever bought into the Christian mythos of the holiday, I am content to celebrate the fat man in the red suit aspect of it all. The virgin birth story makes no sense to me as the son of a serial philanderer, it is more like an excuse a drunkard makes when confronted with an unwanted pregnancy. To me it boils down to either Mary was an adulterer to Joseph, which would violate one of the "Rules of 10" according to the book of Christian mythology, or if she did not consent, then God raped her. At least by my definition of rape, where a person puts something inside a woman without their consent. Really, what is the other option, some miracle nonsense where she doesn't have sex but yet is with child, as the oldsters describe it. All I know from the birds and the bees talk leads me to believe that is highly unlikely. If it is correct, than how could we do anything, lest it be one miracle away of being life. "Hey Joe, go mix us some concrete for this project we are working on." "Sorry, cant do it, it may be a baby some day." Like I said, nonsense.
So I don't by into the biblical happenings for the holiday, I still used to be able to buy into the fact that it was one of just a couple of times a year where my family was always under one roof, or at least a significant portion of said family. But that was back in the day where the family was much smaller and my grandparents were still alive. Now many of the grandkids from those days have their own families and children and everything has dissolved into smaller family units. There is no big family dinner to speak of, where the kids would eat the least amount possible while still feigning an interest in food, before they would scurry off to the tree and implore the adults to hurry up because presents and all that jazz.
If that were not enough of me being a Debbie Downer about the holiday, it also marks the anniversary of my brother's suicide, 26 years now if my memory hasn't failed me yet. While he and I were not that close, one of the remnants of two children who picked sides in their parent's divorce, it isn't all that hard to remember back to the sound of my mother's guttural wailing Christmas morning on finding out Mike had hung himself.
Lastly there is my mother's health, which also puts a kibosh on being all celebratory. Since her last stroke about a year and a half ago, her mind continues to play tricks on her. She misremembers lots of things, including people who are alive, versus those that are dead (included in that package are my brother and grandparents, who have all passed on as evidenced with the above scribblings) and other things that she completely forgets, including dates, so she could be completely unaware it is even Christmas. That too, is a far cry from the way things used to be. As a kid, my Christmas miracle had nothing to do with virgin births and more to do with how did my mom go about making Christmas as amazing as she did while knowing how little money we had. Not that I am all about "gimme, gimme, gimme" but it would be nice to celebrate a holiday with someone who is aware a holiday is taking place.
This would have been the year to return somewhat to form too, Christmas is on a Sunday, which is usually my day off, so it would have been nice to relive all of those old memories again, but some things you can only take with you in your mind, so I volunteered to work for a co worker, perhaps they will make unforgettable memories this holiday instead. I will go and do things where I can do the most good.
Not that working is all bad, it was just a few years ago and a few hundred blog entries ago, where I got the proverbial kick in the teeth about how entitled I am. I was working middle shift at the store, which for us is 3 pm to 11 pm, sort of caught up in my own self pity, when an older lady came in (I would say she was 60ish for those stuck on the details) and she proceeded to buy a deli side from our open air cooler, it was a side of potato salad if memory serves me. She bought it and maybe one or two other things, and after ringing her up, I decided to go out for a cigarette. So I go outside, and the same lady was standing there, eating her potato salad, using our window ledge as a table of sorts, and it hit me, for all of my bitching and moaning, I am not that bad off. I am working in a business with a roof over my head, I will go home and while I might not exchange gifts on the 25 th of December, it will happen in its own due time. I will go home to a warm apartment, with a roof over my head and eat a warm meal, not being stuck outside eating potato salad out if a plastic container. All and all, I don't have it that bad, and despite all of the above paragraphs above that come off as whining I am sure, I still don't have it that bad.
Anyway, since this is supposed to be Christmas themed, I should start by saying Merry Christmas to all of my blog readers (all two of you). Cant say as I am amped up for the holiday, I even cut my shopping way back this year. This year it just feels like another day on the calendar.
Not that I have ever bought into the Christian mythos of the holiday, I am content to celebrate the fat man in the red suit aspect of it all. The virgin birth story makes no sense to me as the son of a serial philanderer, it is more like an excuse a drunkard makes when confronted with an unwanted pregnancy. To me it boils down to either Mary was an adulterer to Joseph, which would violate one of the "Rules of 10" according to the book of Christian mythology, or if she did not consent, then God raped her. At least by my definition of rape, where a person puts something inside a woman without their consent. Really, what is the other option, some miracle nonsense where she doesn't have sex but yet is with child, as the oldsters describe it. All I know from the birds and the bees talk leads me to believe that is highly unlikely. If it is correct, than how could we do anything, lest it be one miracle away of being life. "Hey Joe, go mix us some concrete for this project we are working on." "Sorry, cant do it, it may be a baby some day." Like I said, nonsense.
So I don't by into the biblical happenings for the holiday, I still used to be able to buy into the fact that it was one of just a couple of times a year where my family was always under one roof, or at least a significant portion of said family. But that was back in the day where the family was much smaller and my grandparents were still alive. Now many of the grandkids from those days have their own families and children and everything has dissolved into smaller family units. There is no big family dinner to speak of, where the kids would eat the least amount possible while still feigning an interest in food, before they would scurry off to the tree and implore the adults to hurry up because presents and all that jazz.
If that were not enough of me being a Debbie Downer about the holiday, it also marks the anniversary of my brother's suicide, 26 years now if my memory hasn't failed me yet. While he and I were not that close, one of the remnants of two children who picked sides in their parent's divorce, it isn't all that hard to remember back to the sound of my mother's guttural wailing Christmas morning on finding out Mike had hung himself.
Lastly there is my mother's health, which also puts a kibosh on being all celebratory. Since her last stroke about a year and a half ago, her mind continues to play tricks on her. She misremembers lots of things, including people who are alive, versus those that are dead (included in that package are my brother and grandparents, who have all passed on as evidenced with the above scribblings) and other things that she completely forgets, including dates, so she could be completely unaware it is even Christmas. That too, is a far cry from the way things used to be. As a kid, my Christmas miracle had nothing to do with virgin births and more to do with how did my mom go about making Christmas as amazing as she did while knowing how little money we had. Not that I am all about "gimme, gimme, gimme" but it would be nice to celebrate a holiday with someone who is aware a holiday is taking place.
This would have been the year to return somewhat to form too, Christmas is on a Sunday, which is usually my day off, so it would have been nice to relive all of those old memories again, but some things you can only take with you in your mind, so I volunteered to work for a co worker, perhaps they will make unforgettable memories this holiday instead. I will go and do things where I can do the most good.
Not that working is all bad, it was just a few years ago and a few hundred blog entries ago, where I got the proverbial kick in the teeth about how entitled I am. I was working middle shift at the store, which for us is 3 pm to 11 pm, sort of caught up in my own self pity, when an older lady came in (I would say she was 60ish for those stuck on the details) and she proceeded to buy a deli side from our open air cooler, it was a side of potato salad if memory serves me. She bought it and maybe one or two other things, and after ringing her up, I decided to go out for a cigarette. So I go outside, and the same lady was standing there, eating her potato salad, using our window ledge as a table of sorts, and it hit me, for all of my bitching and moaning, I am not that bad off. I am working in a business with a roof over my head, I will go home and while I might not exchange gifts on the 25 th of December, it will happen in its own due time. I will go home to a warm apartment, with a roof over my head and eat a warm meal, not being stuck outside eating potato salad out if a plastic container. All and all, I don't have it that bad, and despite all of the above paragraphs above that come off as whining I am sure, I still don't have it that bad.
Saturday, December 17, 2016
B365V3.57 - Traditions must be kept
Anyone who has been around the blog for more than a minute lnows that I do a yearly Christmas list. I'll be honest, if you ask me for things I want or need, I will easily come up with a list. I am not one of those shy people who hems and haws over such things, as long as I live and breathe I am sure there will be things I want, I am materialistic that way. So, without further ado, here is this year's list of things you can give me;
Infra red turkey fryer
Sleep
Extra time in the day
donations to my vacation fund
Gift cards
Groceries
Bicycle lock
Nail clippers
Smart TV (as opposed to my dumb TV)
homemade chocolate chip cookie or ham pot pie
A maid
case of Red Stripe
carton of Marlboro Lights
Pepsi
Shoes
Towels
Captain America: Civil War on DVD
Sex
A Philly Cheesesteak (or a really good Cuban sandwich)
A fantasy football championship
A raise at work
Infra red turkey fryer
Sleep
Extra time in the day
donations to my vacation fund
Gift cards
Groceries
Bicycle lock
Nail clippers
Smart TV (as opposed to my dumb TV)
homemade chocolate chip cookie or ham pot pie
A maid
case of Red Stripe
carton of Marlboro Lights
Pepsi
Shoes
Towels
Captain America: Civil War on DVD
Sex
A Philly Cheesesteak (or a really good Cuban sandwich)
A fantasy football championship
A raise at work
Penguins @ NY Islanders 11/30/16
NY Islanders 5 Pittsburgh 3
Sidney Crosby - 2 A
Pittsburgh rallied to tie in the third period after falling behind 3-0
Sidney Crosby - 2 A
Pittsburgh rallied to tie in the third period after falling behind 3-0
Devils @ Penguins 11/26/16
Pittsburgh 4 New Jersey 3 SO
Evgeni Malkin - 3 A
Sidney Crosby leads the NHL with 15 goals
Evgeni Malkin - 3 A
Sidney Crosby leads the NHL with 15 goals
Penguins @ Wild 11/25/16
Minnesota 6 Pittsburgh 2
Phil Kessel, Bryan Rust - G each
Pittsburgh has not won consecutive games since Nov 8th
Phil Kessel, Bryan Rust - G each
Pittsburgh has not won consecutive games since Nov 8th
Penguins @ NY Rangers 11/23/16
Pittsburgh 6 NY Rangers 1
Sidney Crosby - 2 G, A
Pittsburgh held NY without a shot for a span of 23:59 during the game.
Sidney Crosby - 2 G, A
Pittsburgh held NY without a shot for a span of 23:59 during the game.
Monday, December 12, 2016
NY Rangers @ Penguins 11/21/16
NY Rangers 5 Pittsburgh 2
Jake Guentzel - 2 G
Evgeni Malkin has a point in seven straight games
Jake Guentzel - 2 G
Evgeni Malkin has a point in seven straight games
Penguins @ Sabres 11/19/16
Buffalo 2 Pittsburgh 1 SO
Sidney Crosby - G
Pittsburgh outshot Buffalo 43-27
Sidney Crosby - G
Pittsburgh outshot Buffalo 43-27
Penguins @ NY Islanders 11/18/16
Pittsburgh 3 NY Islanders 2 (OT)
Sidney Crosby, Kris Letang - G, A each
Penguins haven't lost consecutive games in regulation since December 2015
Sidney Crosby, Kris Letang - G, A each
Penguins haven't lost consecutive games in regulation since December 2015
Friday, December 9, 2016
Penguins @ Capitals 11/16/16
Washington 7 Pittsburgh 1
Phil Kessel - G
The 7 goals allowed were the most since 2012
Phil Kessel - G
The 7 goals allowed were the most since 2012
Maple Leafs @ Penguins 11/12/16
Pittsburgh 4 Toronto 1
Bryan Rust, Sidney Crosby - G, A each
Matt Murray made a career high 35 saves for Pittsburgh
Bryan Rust, Sidney Crosby - G, A each
Matt Murray made a career high 35 saves for Pittsburgh
Wild @ Penguins 11/10/16
Minnesota 4 Pittsburgh 2
Phil Kessel - 2 A
This was Pittsburgh's first home loss in regulation this year
Phil Kessel - 2 A
This was Pittsburgh's first home loss in regulation this year
Oilers @ Penguins 11/08/16
Pittsburgh 4 Edmonton 3
Connor Sheary - 2 G
Pittsburgh is 9-0-3 in their last twelve games versus Edmonton
Connor Sheary - 2 G
Pittsburgh is 9-0-3 in their last twelve games versus Edmonton
Monday, November 21, 2016
B365V3.56 - One is the loneliest number
Where do I begin? Well let's see, when we last left off I was thinking about a second job, working evenings in the Amazon Fulfillment Center in Pittsburgh, (Crafton if you're nasty), but first came the orientation. Now when I heard back from Amazon I was told I was hired for the shift I had applied for, which would constitute 5 evenings a week, from 6pm - 10 pm. But first I had to find the place, since the cool kids don't hang out in Crafton, why should I? So, before I could do orientation, I had to take a recon mission first to the neighborhood, just so I could see where what buses go to whichever sections would be close to my job. As luck would have it, my recon turned out to be a success, but I had orientation on a Monday at 2pm, when I am usually at the real job, so I did as much stuff early as I could on Monday to better facilitate me getting out of work on time to go to this event.
Given orientation was the Monday after Veteran's Day, that meant going into work early and getting sales numbers done for four days as opposed to three, as well as getting a grocery order together and sent in, so I was all kinds of on the spot, getting things done. I made it to the gig, albeit about 15 minutes late, and when I sat down and they handed out sheets, my schedule said I would be working from Wednesday thru Sunday 8pm to 12am. At some point between my clearing my background and drug test and my orientation they decided to do away with the 6pm to 10pm shift entirely. That switch was not great, it limited my bus options home from work to one bus at 12:30 am at a bus stop that was better than a mile from where I was working. They then proceeded to tell us, some nights we will be asked to work overtime, never more than an hour though, which we can't refuse. Yes, but that hour turns into many more hours for me, I could either stay in the breakroom until buses started running again in the am, or I could hoof it back into town. I lived that miserable existence in radio a while back, where I could spend the night at the station after I turned the signal off at 1am and wait until the first bus at 6am, or I could walk home. East Pittsburgh to Squirrel Hill is not a fun walk, let me tell you, North Braddock and Rankin aren't places you want to visit in the daytime, let alone be walking through at night. For those that want to know, it is about a three hour walk, but when your second job at the time has you in Lawrenceville at 10am, you do what you can. But those who do not remember history are doomed to repeat it, and I have lived the life of two jobs with one of them ending after the buses shut off for the night.
Still, I was thinking that as long as I had that one bus and I had not been trapped yet by the mandatory overtime rule, perhaps I could make this work. I am told my first day will be Nov 20th, a Sunday. Seemed kind of stupid to me, have me work a day, then two days off, then go back for Wednesday through Sunday. But I am thinking cool enough, I will be working both my jobs on Thanksgiving, racking up the time and a half hours. Money, money, money. I get out of orientation, I am supposed to go back on Thursday for a training type day, we are to be shown the warehouse and where everything is. Fair enough. During this training day I am told to go wait in the breakroom, I am given my id badge so I can enter the building of my own accord and clock in and out on the time clocks. The time clocks also hold the schedule in them, so you can tap your badge, press view schedule and your schedule pops up on the screen. We are shown this on our training day, as well as where the utility dispensers are, you tap your badge for extra things you may need like work vests, gloves, box cutters, etc. and they fall out, unlike George Costanza's Twix bar. During our break during this walkabout kind of day, I go into the bathroom and above the urinal is a pee chart, to check your hydration level or some such thing. The color and odor of your pee determines how hydrated you are. Now I don't know about the ladies room, perhaps there are pee charts in there as well, but when I go to the bathroom I am not all investigative about my pee, nor am I sniffing the urinal for odor. For me the process is all about ready, aim, fire. There was also a sign in the breakroom about how many days they had been accident free, which was on like 6 or something.
Also during our walkabout, we are shown where to go at the beginning of the shift, we go to this area at the center of the warehouse and check the roster sign in sheet, it will tell us where to go and what we will be doing that particular day. Not to worry though, we are going to have someone with us our first day on the warehouse floor, showing us what to do. Cool enough, I have never worked in a warehouse before.
So, I go in for my first day on the floor so to speak, I find my way back to the center station, There is no roster sheet, no one knows where the hell we are going, I am standing there with about 30 or so new hires and they broke us up by asking who wants to go where. I head off with the pallet wrappers, which was probably a mistake on my part. Revisit my history some day and my challenges with wrapping Chrstmas presents, then picture your purchase on a pallet with a bunch of other "presents" and leave it to my devices and see what happens. We were given about 10 minutes worth of instruction on how to wrap pallets before we were sent off into the wilds of the Amazon warehouse to wrap things that weren't moving. It is at ths part of a National Geographic special where you see a bunch of young animals dying, just cut loose into the wild, left to fend for themselves. I get called over to lane H, to close pallets, which is where you finish wrapping full pallets so they can go on the truck. I can't even being to tell you how much plastic I wasted on that effort. I finished that project and was once again wandering the warehouse with no guidance to where to go next, eventually I just went wherever I saw a pallet that needed wrapped. Spun my web of lies and deceipt around it, and then wandered off to find more pallets. Finally the shift ends, I go to punch out and whle at the time clock I check my shedule, and the fuckers changed that on me too. First they changed my shift, then they changed my workdays as well. Now I am working Sat thru Wed with Thursday and Friday off. Some I am losing the extra time I would pick up on Thanksgiving and they are changing the days for which I was hired. (Not to mention the sign in the breakroom was down to 1 day since the last accident.) So now I am pissed, and I take an angry 1 mile walk to the bus stop, thankfully I didn't miss the last bus but I start weighing the plusses ad minuses in my head. The extra money would be good, but I could just work an extra couple hours a day at my current job and and make the same amount, and not have to deal with worrying about missing a bus or walking a mile to catch one, so for the time being I am back to being a one job person.
Given orientation was the Monday after Veteran's Day, that meant going into work early and getting sales numbers done for four days as opposed to three, as well as getting a grocery order together and sent in, so I was all kinds of on the spot, getting things done. I made it to the gig, albeit about 15 minutes late, and when I sat down and they handed out sheets, my schedule said I would be working from Wednesday thru Sunday 8pm to 12am. At some point between my clearing my background and drug test and my orientation they decided to do away with the 6pm to 10pm shift entirely. That switch was not great, it limited my bus options home from work to one bus at 12:30 am at a bus stop that was better than a mile from where I was working. They then proceeded to tell us, some nights we will be asked to work overtime, never more than an hour though, which we can't refuse. Yes, but that hour turns into many more hours for me, I could either stay in the breakroom until buses started running again in the am, or I could hoof it back into town. I lived that miserable existence in radio a while back, where I could spend the night at the station after I turned the signal off at 1am and wait until the first bus at 6am, or I could walk home. East Pittsburgh to Squirrel Hill is not a fun walk, let me tell you, North Braddock and Rankin aren't places you want to visit in the daytime, let alone be walking through at night. For those that want to know, it is about a three hour walk, but when your second job at the time has you in Lawrenceville at 10am, you do what you can. But those who do not remember history are doomed to repeat it, and I have lived the life of two jobs with one of them ending after the buses shut off for the night.
Still, I was thinking that as long as I had that one bus and I had not been trapped yet by the mandatory overtime rule, perhaps I could make this work. I am told my first day will be Nov 20th, a Sunday. Seemed kind of stupid to me, have me work a day, then two days off, then go back for Wednesday through Sunday. But I am thinking cool enough, I will be working both my jobs on Thanksgiving, racking up the time and a half hours. Money, money, money. I get out of orientation, I am supposed to go back on Thursday for a training type day, we are to be shown the warehouse and where everything is. Fair enough. During this training day I am told to go wait in the breakroom, I am given my id badge so I can enter the building of my own accord and clock in and out on the time clocks. The time clocks also hold the schedule in them, so you can tap your badge, press view schedule and your schedule pops up on the screen. We are shown this on our training day, as well as where the utility dispensers are, you tap your badge for extra things you may need like work vests, gloves, box cutters, etc. and they fall out, unlike George Costanza's Twix bar. During our break during this walkabout kind of day, I go into the bathroom and above the urinal is a pee chart, to check your hydration level or some such thing. The color and odor of your pee determines how hydrated you are. Now I don't know about the ladies room, perhaps there are pee charts in there as well, but when I go to the bathroom I am not all investigative about my pee, nor am I sniffing the urinal for odor. For me the process is all about ready, aim, fire. There was also a sign in the breakroom about how many days they had been accident free, which was on like 6 or something.
Also during our walkabout, we are shown where to go at the beginning of the shift, we go to this area at the center of the warehouse and check the roster sign in sheet, it will tell us where to go and what we will be doing that particular day. Not to worry though, we are going to have someone with us our first day on the warehouse floor, showing us what to do. Cool enough, I have never worked in a warehouse before.
So, I go in for my first day on the floor so to speak, I find my way back to the center station, There is no roster sheet, no one knows where the hell we are going, I am standing there with about 30 or so new hires and they broke us up by asking who wants to go where. I head off with the pallet wrappers, which was probably a mistake on my part. Revisit my history some day and my challenges with wrapping Chrstmas presents, then picture your purchase on a pallet with a bunch of other "presents" and leave it to my devices and see what happens. We were given about 10 minutes worth of instruction on how to wrap pallets before we were sent off into the wilds of the Amazon warehouse to wrap things that weren't moving. It is at ths part of a National Geographic special where you see a bunch of young animals dying, just cut loose into the wild, left to fend for themselves. I get called over to lane H, to close pallets, which is where you finish wrapping full pallets so they can go on the truck. I can't even being to tell you how much plastic I wasted on that effort. I finished that project and was once again wandering the warehouse with no guidance to where to go next, eventually I just went wherever I saw a pallet that needed wrapped. Spun my web of lies and deceipt around it, and then wandered off to find more pallets. Finally the shift ends, I go to punch out and whle at the time clock I check my shedule, and the fuckers changed that on me too. First they changed my shift, then they changed my workdays as well. Now I am working Sat thru Wed with Thursday and Friday off. Some I am losing the extra time I would pick up on Thanksgiving and they are changing the days for which I was hired. (Not to mention the sign in the breakroom was down to 1 day since the last accident.) So now I am pissed, and I take an angry 1 mile walk to the bus stop, thankfully I didn't miss the last bus but I start weighing the plusses ad minuses in my head. The extra money would be good, but I could just work an extra couple hours a day at my current job and and make the same amount, and not have to deal with worrying about missing a bus or walking a mile to catch one, so for the time being I am back to being a one job person.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
B365V3.55 - November surprises
I had planned on writing before the results of the election, but just never found the initial inertia to put cursor to keyboard and bang something out. It isn't as if nothing had happened prior to last night, in fact quite a few things did, but last night has left me with a malaise that as of this typing I have been unable to shake.
I have searched for something uplifting and i would like to thank those people who have tried to somehow shake me from my doldrums, but it appears that it is easier said than done. Instead I need to get some shit off of my chest, so if you are easily offended, by all means turn back now, the following words will not be pretty, but perhaps they will be therapeutic for me.
First off, I want to say that , no, I do not view all Trump voters as racists. By the same token, those that voted Trump surely supported one. Whether it be being brought up on charges of housing discrimination, calling for the death penalty after the initial verdict of the Central Park 5 via a full page ad in the NY Times, then when they were eventually exonerated, complained about the city's settlement with them, to embracing the nonsense of the Birther movement, trying to delegitimize Barack Obama's presidency, to suggesting that everyone who crosses the Mexico - United States border is a criminal and his thoughts on people of darker skin than his are readily apparent. As are his views on women, through numerous interviews in the media in the past (do your own research here).
In fact, much of what Trump argued on the stump or suggested during the campaign can be filed in the "I know I am but what are you drawer" such as when he told everyone in a late night tweet to go looking for a porn tape that featured a fomer beauty pageant contest winner was in. It turns out that tape doesn't exist, but one with Trump in it surely does. Or his incessant clamoring about the criminality of Hillary Clinton and her pay for play schemes at the Clinton foundation. Yet it was Trump's foundation that was stopped from collecting donations in the state of NY, after using foundation money to buy himself gifts and to bribe the Florida State's attorney general to stop investigating complaints about the Trump University scam. His lie that Clinton was about to be indicted, when in fact it is Trump who has a pending court case over the very same Trump University scam. Sorry if I am offending any graduates of Trump University, but how is that degree working out for you anyway? But Trump is going to bring jobs back to America? He has had multiple opportunities in the past to hire Americans and to use American manufacturing for his projects, he instead chose to ship those jobs overseas, use foreign workers in his projects in the states, use imported goods in many of his projects and screw contractors out of payments after doing work for him. And now we find ourselves compromised, as he is hundreds of millions of dollars in debt to foreign banks, including but not limited to the Bank of China and Deutche Bank. The Deutche Bank loan has it's own problems, given the bank's tenuous fiscal standing, they may end up offering the loans of one Donald J Trump to the highest bidder in order to maintain their own solvency, and they are currently under investigation for their role in the previous global fiscal collapse. Scream it from the highest rooftop, conflict of interest anyone? But it is the Clinton Foundation you need to worry about. And Hillary's emails of course. Of course Trump has also destroyed and/or not turned over records in pending court cases against him, but don't you worry your pretty little heads about such things, they don't matter. Chances are if Trump accused someone of something, he is guilty of the very same thing. It is akin to the kid who denies taking the cookie from the cookie jar, while the crumbs are still all over his lips.
But he isn't from Washington, so he can clean out the corruption. He can fix things. Yes, if by fixing you mean that your home has a cockroach infestation so you call an arsonist to fix the problem. Sure, the roaches are gone at the end of the day, but so is the house.
Okay, enough ranting. This isn't very therapeutic at all, in fact it is spoiling my Squirrel cage dinner, so on to other things. Not that the guy sitting at the end of the bar arguing politics wasn't bad enough, thankfully the bartender stopped than nonsense.
Still, while I was away, at least as away from the blog as I can be, I have still been posting hockey videos, little highlight packages from the Pen's games this season, with my own brief synopsis. It is a yearly thing around this blog, especially since I started doing in, many moons ago, we have won 2 Stanley Cups. Not to be superstitious or anything, but why mess with what works?
The other day, if by other day I mean like a month ago or some such nonsense, I saw on Facebook that Amazon was doing some hiring locally for their fulfillment center here. I didn't even know they had one to be honest, but I think I had come back from the bar and was reading my news feed when I stumbled across their hiring ad. I filled it out in my blurry haze, only to get an email a couple of days later inviting me to a hiring event, where you went and basically filled out a job application online. I was told when I showed up at the event that over 200 people had signed up, yet I was #25 (can I deport lazy Americans and replace them with hard working Mexicans, please?) so I filled out my application and waited to hear back, About three days later I was invited to an orientation event, where they did the drug test thing and went over a description of what the job entails. The best thing about this event was I was hired for the shift I wanted (6pm-10pm, five nights a week) simply because that shift works best around my existing schedule. Not trying to lose the current job, just trying to supplement the income, which in Trump's America, seems like a good thing if the post election markets are any indicator of where we are headed. And then I waited. And waited. and waited. And so on, and so on and so on. After about 10 days of waiting and seeing online that I was still in the screening process, I finally found an email to contact someone in human resources at amazon, so I fired off a quick missive asking what was what. I had passed the drug screen 9no surprise there, i am to dull a person in real life to be on anything) but the background screening still wasn't complete. Not that I was worried, I am too boring to have anything pop up there either. About two days later, I got confirmation that I meet the standards to be an Amazon employee. So it looks like I will be starting the new gig on Friday with some good old fashioned orientation action.
The bartender just came over to give me my check and say that my fingers are going a mile a minute. that means I have probably left a dozen of so typos in my wake. Go go gadget fingers.
lastly, I haven't given anyone a fantasy football update in a while, in the league with some of my former coworkers I am 4-5, but in the Pittsburgh Bloggers league I am 7-2, best record off anyone. I am scared of jinxing it by typing that out loud, but I just did, so bring on the suckage.
I have searched for something uplifting and i would like to thank those people who have tried to somehow shake me from my doldrums, but it appears that it is easier said than done. Instead I need to get some shit off of my chest, so if you are easily offended, by all means turn back now, the following words will not be pretty, but perhaps they will be therapeutic for me.
First off, I want to say that , no, I do not view all Trump voters as racists. By the same token, those that voted Trump surely supported one. Whether it be being brought up on charges of housing discrimination, calling for the death penalty after the initial verdict of the Central Park 5 via a full page ad in the NY Times, then when they were eventually exonerated, complained about the city's settlement with them, to embracing the nonsense of the Birther movement, trying to delegitimize Barack Obama's presidency, to suggesting that everyone who crosses the Mexico - United States border is a criminal and his thoughts on people of darker skin than his are readily apparent. As are his views on women, through numerous interviews in the media in the past (do your own research here).
In fact, much of what Trump argued on the stump or suggested during the campaign can be filed in the "I know I am but what are you drawer" such as when he told everyone in a late night tweet to go looking for a porn tape that featured a fomer beauty pageant contest winner was in. It turns out that tape doesn't exist, but one with Trump in it surely does. Or his incessant clamoring about the criminality of Hillary Clinton and her pay for play schemes at the Clinton foundation. Yet it was Trump's foundation that was stopped from collecting donations in the state of NY, after using foundation money to buy himself gifts and to bribe the Florida State's attorney general to stop investigating complaints about the Trump University scam. His lie that Clinton was about to be indicted, when in fact it is Trump who has a pending court case over the very same Trump University scam. Sorry if I am offending any graduates of Trump University, but how is that degree working out for you anyway? But Trump is going to bring jobs back to America? He has had multiple opportunities in the past to hire Americans and to use American manufacturing for his projects, he instead chose to ship those jobs overseas, use foreign workers in his projects in the states, use imported goods in many of his projects and screw contractors out of payments after doing work for him. And now we find ourselves compromised, as he is hundreds of millions of dollars in debt to foreign banks, including but not limited to the Bank of China and Deutche Bank. The Deutche Bank loan has it's own problems, given the bank's tenuous fiscal standing, they may end up offering the loans of one Donald J Trump to the highest bidder in order to maintain their own solvency, and they are currently under investigation for their role in the previous global fiscal collapse. Scream it from the highest rooftop, conflict of interest anyone? But it is the Clinton Foundation you need to worry about. And Hillary's emails of course. Of course Trump has also destroyed and/or not turned over records in pending court cases against him, but don't you worry your pretty little heads about such things, they don't matter. Chances are if Trump accused someone of something, he is guilty of the very same thing. It is akin to the kid who denies taking the cookie from the cookie jar, while the crumbs are still all over his lips.
But he isn't from Washington, so he can clean out the corruption. He can fix things. Yes, if by fixing you mean that your home has a cockroach infestation so you call an arsonist to fix the problem. Sure, the roaches are gone at the end of the day, but so is the house.
Okay, enough ranting. This isn't very therapeutic at all, in fact it is spoiling my Squirrel cage dinner, so on to other things. Not that the guy sitting at the end of the bar arguing politics wasn't bad enough, thankfully the bartender stopped than nonsense.
Still, while I was away, at least as away from the blog as I can be, I have still been posting hockey videos, little highlight packages from the Pen's games this season, with my own brief synopsis. It is a yearly thing around this blog, especially since I started doing in, many moons ago, we have won 2 Stanley Cups. Not to be superstitious or anything, but why mess with what works?
The other day, if by other day I mean like a month ago or some such nonsense, I saw on Facebook that Amazon was doing some hiring locally for their fulfillment center here. I didn't even know they had one to be honest, but I think I had come back from the bar and was reading my news feed when I stumbled across their hiring ad. I filled it out in my blurry haze, only to get an email a couple of days later inviting me to a hiring event, where you went and basically filled out a job application online. I was told when I showed up at the event that over 200 people had signed up, yet I was #25 (can I deport lazy Americans and replace them with hard working Mexicans, please?) so I filled out my application and waited to hear back, About three days later I was invited to an orientation event, where they did the drug test thing and went over a description of what the job entails. The best thing about this event was I was hired for the shift I wanted (6pm-10pm, five nights a week) simply because that shift works best around my existing schedule. Not trying to lose the current job, just trying to supplement the income, which in Trump's America, seems like a good thing if the post election markets are any indicator of where we are headed. And then I waited. And waited. and waited. And so on, and so on and so on. After about 10 days of waiting and seeing online that I was still in the screening process, I finally found an email to contact someone in human resources at amazon, so I fired off a quick missive asking what was what. I had passed the drug screen 9no surprise there, i am to dull a person in real life to be on anything) but the background screening still wasn't complete. Not that I was worried, I am too boring to have anything pop up there either. About two days later, I got confirmation that I meet the standards to be an Amazon employee. So it looks like I will be starting the new gig on Friday with some good old fashioned orientation action.
The bartender just came over to give me my check and say that my fingers are going a mile a minute. that means I have probably left a dozen of so typos in my wake. Go go gadget fingers.
lastly, I haven't given anyone a fantasy football update in a while, in the league with some of my former coworkers I am 4-5, but in the Pittsburgh Bloggers league I am 7-2, best record off anyone. I am scared of jinxing it by typing that out loud, but I just did, so bring on the suckage.
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Penguins @ Sharks 11/05/2016
Pittsburgh 5 San Jose 0
Carl Hagelin - 3 A
Sidney Crosby - (2 G) now leads the NHL with 8 G
Carl Hagelin - 3 A
Sidney Crosby - (2 G) now leads the NHL with 8 G
Penguins @ Kings 11/03/2016
Los Angeles 3 Pittsburgh 2 OT
Sidney Crosby - 2 G
Crosby has 6 goals in 5 games so far this year
Sidney Crosby - 2 G
Crosby has 6 goals in 5 games so far this year
Penguins @ Ducks 11/02/2016
Pittsburgh 5 Anaheim 1
Kris Letang - G, A
13 different Penguins recorded a point
Kris Letang - G, A
13 different Penguins recorded a point
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Penguins @ Flyers 10/29/2016
Pittsburgh 5 Philadelphia 4
Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin - 2 G each
Pittsburgh scored 3 goals in a 55 second span
Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin - 2 G each
Pittsburgh scored 3 goals in a 55 second span
NY Islanders @ Penguins 10/27/2016
Pittsburgh 4 NY Islanders 2
Phil Kessel - G, 2 A
Pittsburgh is 5-0-1 at home this year
Phil Kessel - G, 2 A
Pittsburgh is 5-0-1 at home this year
Panthers @ Penguins 10/25/2016
Pittsburgh 3 Florida 2
Sidney Crosby, Eric Fehr, Carl Hagelin - G each
Each of the goal scorers for Pittsburgh recorded their first goal of the season
Sidney Crosby, Eric Fehr, Carl Hagelin - G each
Each of the goal scorers for Pittsburgh recorded their first goal of the season
Monday, October 24, 2016
Penguins @ Predators 10/22/2016
Nashville 5 Pittsburgh 1
Scott Wilson - G
Second consecutive game Wilson tallied a goal
Scott Wilson - G
Second consecutive game Wilson tallied a goal
Sharks @ Penguins 10/20/2016
Pittsburgh 3 San Jose 2
Patric Hornqvist, Evgeni Malkin - G, A each
Pittsburgh won despite trailing 2-0 after two periods
Patric Hornqvist, Evgeni Malkin - G, A each
Pittsburgh won despite trailing 2-0 after two periods
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Penguins @ Canadiens 10/18/2016
Montreal 4 Pittsburgh 0
Marc-Andre Fleury 28 SV
Pittsburgh outshot Montreal 36-32
Marc-Andre Fleury 28 SV
Pittsburgh outshot Montreal 36-32
Avalanche @ Penguins 10/17/2016
Colorado 4 Pittsburgh 3 OT
Matt Cullen - G, A
Pittsburgh is the first reigning Stanley Cup winner to not start a season 3-0 since 97-98.
Matt Cullen - G, A
Pittsburgh is the first reigning Stanley Cup winner to not start a season 3-0 since 97-98.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Ducks @ Penguins 10/15/16
Pittsburgh 3 Anaheim 2
Ian Cole, Phil Kessel, Conor Sheary - G each
Sidney Crosby missed 2nd straight game with a concussion, Pittsburgh is 96-49-18 in 163 regular season games without him in the lineup.
Ian Cole, Phil Kessel, Conor Sheary - G each
Sidney Crosby missed 2nd straight game with a concussion, Pittsburgh is 96-49-18 in 163 regular season games without him in the lineup.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Capitals @ Penguins 10/13/16
Pittsburgh 3 Washington 2 SO
Patric Hornqvist, Evgeni Malkin, - G, A each
Pittsburgh is 5-0 when opening the season against Washington
Patric Hornqvist, Evgeni Malkin, - G, A each
Pittsburgh is 5-0 when opening the season against Washington
Sunday, October 2, 2016
B365V3.54 - Unvolunteered
Lots if things on ye olde cranium, let's see if we can unpack some of it shall we?
So I woke up a couple of Sundays ago (obviously, otherwise I would not be typing this now) and being Sunday morning I clicked on the TV and a show came on. The show was about business in the region, I am sure it is on solely for the station to meet the station's community affairs programming requirement. Usually this is a show that I pay no mind to, but this particular Sunday I did, as the guest was the head of Yellow Cab, which Pittsburgh's version makes it the third oldest cab company in the United States. They were talking about a new addition to the cab fleet, Z Cars. Unlike Yellow Cabs, these cars are painted gray and rumor has it you can either call for one, hail one from the street or use an app to order one. I say rumor has it because I have not taken a cab in many a year, so I am going on the word of the Yellow Cab president here.
During the interview he said Yellow Cab was losing business to Uber and Lyft, because both companies have new fangled apps that people can use in order to get a ride somewhere. This is the point where, if I were in the studio, I would have said shut the hell up. While an app makes getting a ride easy, most people that have the app have it installed on a phone. With a phone in one's hand, how hard is it to call for a ride versus use an app? I would argue the requisite effort required to navigate an app rather than press 7, 10, or 11 keys and call someone is negligible. I would argue Yellow Cab's biggest problem and the main reason they were losing market share was the extraordinary numbers of times people have called for a cab and the cab arrived late or not at all. It was a big enough problem than many cabbies carried around business cards and gave them out to customers in an almost underground cabbie network, to avoid dispatching from the main office altogether. That mister President, was why you were losing market share, not because of some new fangled app, but rather execution of your main function.
So as I was at work on Thursday I managed to unvolunteer myself from something. Long time readers of the blog may recall a fire that happened in the trailer park (yes, I am trailer park people, just deal with it) that my mom and her husband currently reside in. The fire was across the street from their place, if I remember correctly, something in the kitchen exploded and the fire consumed everything, including the life of a young girl. During the course of fighting the fire, the fire department sprayed down neighboring trailers in and effort to keep the fire from spreading. While that plan worked at containing the fire, their trailer did sustain some damage, the heat from the fire distorted some of the metal in the front, and spraying down the trailer revealed a leak in the ceiling. My mother's husband claimed they called their insurance company to look at the damage, a claim I find more dubious the longer I think about it, and the insurance company eventually put plastic over the leak in the roof as a temporary solution. And then nothing happened, for months literally. That year I remember it was a particularly rainy June, like it rained off and on for a week or more straight. The plastic solution was not much of one, as rain got underneath the plastic and got into the ceiling and then into the walls and finally even warping part of the floor. At this point I was asked if I could come home, to rip out carpeting so the floor could be fixed and ultimately new carpeting put in. At this point I asked the fundamental and reasonable question, why didn't they get estimates and turn those over to the insurance company and have this fixed already, as opposed to waiting months and having the damage get substantially worse. Nonetheless, I made the trek home and helped tear out carpeting, which was more than that because they hadn't even removed the furniture from the room in question, despite the fact no one in the house works, so it isn't like they didn't have time.
Now lets fast forward to better than a year later, to this Thursday. I get a message while I am at work, I have to come home this Monday to install the new carpet. Let's table the fact we are better than a year and a half past when the fire occurred, or better than a year past when I went home to help the first time, the idea that I can just drop everything at a moment's notice and rush home for a nonemergency is what pissed me off. I have shit to do on Mondays, including getting two trucks in that day, placing a grocery order, and as tack ons this Monday I have one person on vacation, I have tax increases on all snuff and vapor products (thank you Gov. Wolfe for that bullshit btw) that I need to reprogram the registers for and I have weekend paperwork to deal with. Needless to say, I put the kibosh on this nonsense before it garnered any momentum. Mind you my mother's husband is just a couple years older than me, heck if my brother were still alive he would be younger than my brother, and while my mother's health is suspect at best, to sit around for 2+ years without working and not get shit done is beyond me. Further beyond me is to then expect me to drop everything in order to help get shit done that should have been done eons ago.
Before I get myself angry on my day off, I should note both my fantasy teams lost last week. I note this only because I had noted the previous two weeks where they won so.....
I have been pricing my return trip to Vancouver. I figure if I absolutely kill myself over one pay period I could make enough money to pay for it in a two week span. Or I could ask to be paid for my vacation early, like I did last time and pay it off in January. Well not pay it off but pay for the airplane tix and the hotel, then worry about spending cash leading up to the actual vacation. Prices for me look to range between $800 and $2000, depending if I want to stay in a flea bag joint or away from downtown, or if I want to upscale the classiness of the vacation and stay in a more reputable joint downtown. I most likely will do the latter, it worked so well for me last time, though some amenities I can live without. Like the continental breakfast, I am sure I will be Tim Horton-ing most days so breakfast is not an issue. Other meals will be an assortment of what I can have/make in my room and eating out. It is vacation after all, the less cooking I do the better. Last time though I did make a trip to the local IGA (a downtown grocery store, imagine that Pittsburgh) and stock my mini fridge with some items. Plus I do have two dinners already planned, one at Storm Crow Alehouse and one at EXP bar. Both are role playing themed type bars (another idea for Pittsburgh) and I already have lots of ideas on things I want to do there, things the weather prevented me from doing last time, like go to the beach. Swimming in the ocean isn't recommended in March after all, this trip will be in June over my birthday, so you all will have an extra week to shop for cards and presents as I will be away.
That got some shit off of ye olde cranium and took up most of my breakfast foray so I will stop now.
So I woke up a couple of Sundays ago (obviously, otherwise I would not be typing this now) and being Sunday morning I clicked on the TV and a show came on. The show was about business in the region, I am sure it is on solely for the station to meet the station's community affairs programming requirement. Usually this is a show that I pay no mind to, but this particular Sunday I did, as the guest was the head of Yellow Cab, which Pittsburgh's version makes it the third oldest cab company in the United States. They were talking about a new addition to the cab fleet, Z Cars. Unlike Yellow Cabs, these cars are painted gray and rumor has it you can either call for one, hail one from the street or use an app to order one. I say rumor has it because I have not taken a cab in many a year, so I am going on the word of the Yellow Cab president here.
During the interview he said Yellow Cab was losing business to Uber and Lyft, because both companies have new fangled apps that people can use in order to get a ride somewhere. This is the point where, if I were in the studio, I would have said shut the hell up. While an app makes getting a ride easy, most people that have the app have it installed on a phone. With a phone in one's hand, how hard is it to call for a ride versus use an app? I would argue the requisite effort required to navigate an app rather than press 7, 10, or 11 keys and call someone is negligible. I would argue Yellow Cab's biggest problem and the main reason they were losing market share was the extraordinary numbers of times people have called for a cab and the cab arrived late or not at all. It was a big enough problem than many cabbies carried around business cards and gave them out to customers in an almost underground cabbie network, to avoid dispatching from the main office altogether. That mister President, was why you were losing market share, not because of some new fangled app, but rather execution of your main function.
So as I was at work on Thursday I managed to unvolunteer myself from something. Long time readers of the blog may recall a fire that happened in the trailer park (yes, I am trailer park people, just deal with it) that my mom and her husband currently reside in. The fire was across the street from their place, if I remember correctly, something in the kitchen exploded and the fire consumed everything, including the life of a young girl. During the course of fighting the fire, the fire department sprayed down neighboring trailers in and effort to keep the fire from spreading. While that plan worked at containing the fire, their trailer did sustain some damage, the heat from the fire distorted some of the metal in the front, and spraying down the trailer revealed a leak in the ceiling. My mother's husband claimed they called their insurance company to look at the damage, a claim I find more dubious the longer I think about it, and the insurance company eventually put plastic over the leak in the roof as a temporary solution. And then nothing happened, for months literally. That year I remember it was a particularly rainy June, like it rained off and on for a week or more straight. The plastic solution was not much of one, as rain got underneath the plastic and got into the ceiling and then into the walls and finally even warping part of the floor. At this point I was asked if I could come home, to rip out carpeting so the floor could be fixed and ultimately new carpeting put in. At this point I asked the fundamental and reasonable question, why didn't they get estimates and turn those over to the insurance company and have this fixed already, as opposed to waiting months and having the damage get substantially worse. Nonetheless, I made the trek home and helped tear out carpeting, which was more than that because they hadn't even removed the furniture from the room in question, despite the fact no one in the house works, so it isn't like they didn't have time.
Now lets fast forward to better than a year later, to this Thursday. I get a message while I am at work, I have to come home this Monday to install the new carpet. Let's table the fact we are better than a year and a half past when the fire occurred, or better than a year past when I went home to help the first time, the idea that I can just drop everything at a moment's notice and rush home for a nonemergency is what pissed me off. I have shit to do on Mondays, including getting two trucks in that day, placing a grocery order, and as tack ons this Monday I have one person on vacation, I have tax increases on all snuff and vapor products (thank you Gov. Wolfe for that bullshit btw) that I need to reprogram the registers for and I have weekend paperwork to deal with. Needless to say, I put the kibosh on this nonsense before it garnered any momentum. Mind you my mother's husband is just a couple years older than me, heck if my brother were still alive he would be younger than my brother, and while my mother's health is suspect at best, to sit around for 2+ years without working and not get shit done is beyond me. Further beyond me is to then expect me to drop everything in order to help get shit done that should have been done eons ago.
Before I get myself angry on my day off, I should note both my fantasy teams lost last week. I note this only because I had noted the previous two weeks where they won so.....
I have been pricing my return trip to Vancouver. I figure if I absolutely kill myself over one pay period I could make enough money to pay for it in a two week span. Or I could ask to be paid for my vacation early, like I did last time and pay it off in January. Well not pay it off but pay for the airplane tix and the hotel, then worry about spending cash leading up to the actual vacation. Prices for me look to range between $800 and $2000, depending if I want to stay in a flea bag joint or away from downtown, or if I want to upscale the classiness of the vacation and stay in a more reputable joint downtown. I most likely will do the latter, it worked so well for me last time, though some amenities I can live without. Like the continental breakfast, I am sure I will be Tim Horton-ing most days so breakfast is not an issue. Other meals will be an assortment of what I can have/make in my room and eating out. It is vacation after all, the less cooking I do the better. Last time though I did make a trip to the local IGA (a downtown grocery store, imagine that Pittsburgh) and stock my mini fridge with some items. Plus I do have two dinners already planned, one at Storm Crow Alehouse and one at EXP bar. Both are role playing themed type bars (another idea for Pittsburgh) and I already have lots of ideas on things I want to do there, things the weather prevented me from doing last time, like go to the beach. Swimming in the ocean isn't recommended in March after all, this trip will be in June over my birthday, so you all will have an extra week to shop for cards and presents as I will be away.
That got some shit off of ye olde cranium and took up most of my breakfast foray so I will stop now.
Thursday, September 29, 2016
B365V3.53 - Smithfield Mystery Theater
I needed the absurdity of today, or at least the absurdity my mind created out of it. First, I overslept, but Brian had told me the other day he wasn't coming in on Wednesday or Thursday, so all is good I figure, I get things done faster without him so I will still be in good shape the rest of the day. Except when I get there Brian is in the office, still he didn't slow me up too much.
The absurdity hit right when I went out for my first cigarette of the day, as laying there on the sidewalk was a gummy penis. Yes we have photographic evidence as seen here
While the product is odd in and of itself, it isn't surprising, given we are located underneath a porn shop and they do have some odd items up there, like candy cock rings, so bags of gummy penises (scientific plural, penii or penae?) are not beyond the realm of possibility. My mind went to that place though where as soon as they got out of the porn shop someone had to think they had to get some gummy penis in their mouth. No waiting on this delicacy apparently. But they were clumsy with their new found edible genitalia, as now on the sidewalk beside my feet was a candy cock. This instantly got filed in my brain as blog worthy, after all it isn't everyday you see a gummy penis. Not that they are as rare as bald eagles mind you, but I have seen a bald eagle before, gummy penae, not so much.
A little later I went back outside to check on the gummy penis, because it was raining and I thought it might have washed away, but just like a kid who frets over a caterpillar I needn't have worried, the gummy penis was still there. I even pointed out to a coworker who didn't believe it was out there. Having delivered the shock and awe to my coworker, I finished my cigarette and went back inside, safe in the knowledge nothing would happen to the gummy penis for the rest of the day. I went back to the office and finished my paperwork and got the deposits ready for the bank.
I collect everything and get ready to go to the bank. I step outside and look and the gummy penis is gone. "The Case of the Missing Penis" as I labeled it. I looked around in case someone may have kicked it down the sidewalk, or knocked it into the street. If I would have had crime scene tape I would have roped off the area but I left my crime scene tape at home. I would have sucked at being a boy scout, I am never prepared. I wasn't prepared to see a gummy penis today and I wasn't prepared for the gummy penis to disappear like a valuable piece of artwork either. Sucks to be me I guess.
But I can't have a crime without a culprit can I? But since I had no clues and no suspects for that matter, I am just going to go ahead and blame this on Fucking Chicken Lady, because the only thing that would make today more complete than it already was is the image of her standing outside screaming into her phone, "You said you were going to get my gummy penae? Where's my fucking penae?"
The absurdity hit right when I went out for my first cigarette of the day, as laying there on the sidewalk was a gummy penis. Yes we have photographic evidence as seen here
While the product is odd in and of itself, it isn't surprising, given we are located underneath a porn shop and they do have some odd items up there, like candy cock rings, so bags of gummy penises (scientific plural, penii or penae?) are not beyond the realm of possibility. My mind went to that place though where as soon as they got out of the porn shop someone had to think they had to get some gummy penis in their mouth. No waiting on this delicacy apparently. But they were clumsy with their new found edible genitalia, as now on the sidewalk beside my feet was a candy cock. This instantly got filed in my brain as blog worthy, after all it isn't everyday you see a gummy penis. Not that they are as rare as bald eagles mind you, but I have seen a bald eagle before, gummy penae, not so much.
A little later I went back outside to check on the gummy penis, because it was raining and I thought it might have washed away, but just like a kid who frets over a caterpillar I needn't have worried, the gummy penis was still there. I even pointed out to a coworker who didn't believe it was out there. Having delivered the shock and awe to my coworker, I finished my cigarette and went back inside, safe in the knowledge nothing would happen to the gummy penis for the rest of the day. I went back to the office and finished my paperwork and got the deposits ready for the bank.
I collect everything and get ready to go to the bank. I step outside and look and the gummy penis is gone. "The Case of the Missing Penis" as I labeled it. I looked around in case someone may have kicked it down the sidewalk, or knocked it into the street. If I would have had crime scene tape I would have roped off the area but I left my crime scene tape at home. I would have sucked at being a boy scout, I am never prepared. I wasn't prepared to see a gummy penis today and I wasn't prepared for the gummy penis to disappear like a valuable piece of artwork either. Sucks to be me I guess.
But I can't have a crime without a culprit can I? But since I had no clues and no suspects for that matter, I am just going to go ahead and blame this on Fucking Chicken Lady, because the only thing that would make today more complete than it already was is the image of her standing outside screaming into her phone, "You said you were going to get my gummy penae? Where's my fucking penae?"
Friday, September 23, 2016
B365V3.52 The week that was
I guess I should call this a pretty good week, certainly in fitting with the #itsmyyear hashtag thing I have going on in 2016. The first bit of good news, albeit bad news that begat good news, was that i got to have lunch with my friend Debbie on Sunday. The reason for this was the bad news portion of things, her mom was in the ICU at Presby after having a stroke. I received a message from her around 6:15am on Sunday asking where there is good coffee in Oakland at that hour. All I could think of that early was McDonald's a place that i do not care to eat at much any more, but their coffee is still better than Starbucks. Technically I could have said the gas station at the end of my street, but I don't even get coffee there very often anymore. ever since Sixx left a few months back, there is just little there to get my heart all pitter pattery. She said her mom was going in for a CAT scan,we could grab coffee when it was done. I shot her a message around 11am, they hadn't even done the scan yet, more of that hurry up and wait nonsense hospitals are so good at. I swear, after retiring from hospital work, those people should go look into a career at the post office. Another profession which can be timed with a sundial.
I laid around the apartment until around 1pm,then shot a message that I was going to get a coffee and be out for a bit. I was out and about for maybe 20 minute, just drinking a coffee and walking when I got a message back to the possibility of grabbing lunch instead. that was fine, I was half done with my coffee by that point anyway. So I picked Stack'd or lunch, a relatively newish burger place in Oakland that has really good burgers (take that you frauds at Five Guys). we each got a burger, I got a double with grilled green pepper and onion, lettuce and tomato with ghost pepper cheese and mustard and an appetizer of macaroni and cheese bites with spicy ranch dipping sauce (sooooo good) and we yammered on as people who have known each other for three decades are prone to do. I tried to keep my pointless yammering to a minimum and do more of the listening thing since I don't really have compelling issues in my life at this point, certainly no one in the hospital.We spent about an hour together, then I walked her back to Presby where her mom was in the ICU, so no non family members allowed. Instead we parted company and I walked back down to CVS were I bought some snackage for the evening and a couple of lottery tickets, one of which hit for $100, so go me and all that jazz. Turns out that would not be the only one this week, I got another $100 winner while working the second half of a double on Monday night and yet another $100 winner at work on Wednesday. So go me, times three.
Tuesday was payday, which was also nice because I had a couple of extra bucks in my paycheck after working 13 of the 14 days in the pay period and a double amongst those days. It felt nice to not rob Peter to pay Paul on rent for October, so I cleared that off of my docket a couple of weeks early and paid my phone bill and still had money for a night of drunken boring debauchery (see me debauch some time, it is quite boring). Usually it consists of me, Yuengling, Fireball whiskey shots and is followed up by eating drunken gyros (me being the drunken, not the gyros).
The fantasy football stuff continues to go well, I am now 2-0 in both leagues i am in, so there is that going for me as well. On top of all of that goodness, I got my two Amazon orders in this week, I bought a new wireless router and my Verizon model kept dropping out on the wireless portion of the job, forcing me to restart it a number of times a day. I got me a TP Link modem instead and so far it is working just fine, as I have just enough of a modicum of a skill set to set it up and have it function properly. I also had to buy a new toaster and mine mysteriously fell off my microwave table the other day and while I was out buying things I also got the newest Spenser book, of which I am about 50 or so pages into.
Finally this week I was at work the other day when I got a message from my friend Hope on Facebook. Those of you who have been around the blog for more than a minute know that Hope's name has popped up occasionally, I would say almost always in a good fashion. The most recent blogging occurrence was about two years ago, when I told the story of our trip to the ballet, where I got all fuddy duddied up (meaning I rented a tux) without her knowing but when I went to meet her there was just no comparison, she blew me and my cool threads away. Well as luck would have it, Hope's message to me was actual photos from that night (her mom took pics, this was back in the days before digital photography kids). Anyway, apparently Hope was going through some things and sent me pictures from that night. I found out that I was not suffering from Alzheimers, she really did look way better than I did. Don't believe me, have a look for yourself, her and I from about 25 years ago.
And that kids is a wrap, no more old photos or storytelling tonight, I have to work in the morning.
I laid around the apartment until around 1pm,then shot a message that I was going to get a coffee and be out for a bit. I was out and about for maybe 20 minute, just drinking a coffee and walking when I got a message back to the possibility of grabbing lunch instead. that was fine, I was half done with my coffee by that point anyway. So I picked Stack'd or lunch, a relatively newish burger place in Oakland that has really good burgers (take that you frauds at Five Guys). we each got a burger, I got a double with grilled green pepper and onion, lettuce and tomato with ghost pepper cheese and mustard and an appetizer of macaroni and cheese bites with spicy ranch dipping sauce (sooooo good) and we yammered on as people who have known each other for three decades are prone to do. I tried to keep my pointless yammering to a minimum and do more of the listening thing since I don't really have compelling issues in my life at this point, certainly no one in the hospital.We spent about an hour together, then I walked her back to Presby where her mom was in the ICU, so no non family members allowed. Instead we parted company and I walked back down to CVS were I bought some snackage for the evening and a couple of lottery tickets, one of which hit for $100, so go me and all that jazz. Turns out that would not be the only one this week, I got another $100 winner while working the second half of a double on Monday night and yet another $100 winner at work on Wednesday. So go me, times three.
Tuesday was payday, which was also nice because I had a couple of extra bucks in my paycheck after working 13 of the 14 days in the pay period and a double amongst those days. It felt nice to not rob Peter to pay Paul on rent for October, so I cleared that off of my docket a couple of weeks early and paid my phone bill and still had money for a night of drunken boring debauchery (see me debauch some time, it is quite boring). Usually it consists of me, Yuengling, Fireball whiskey shots and is followed up by eating drunken gyros (me being the drunken, not the gyros).
The fantasy football stuff continues to go well, I am now 2-0 in both leagues i am in, so there is that going for me as well. On top of all of that goodness, I got my two Amazon orders in this week, I bought a new wireless router and my Verizon model kept dropping out on the wireless portion of the job, forcing me to restart it a number of times a day. I got me a TP Link modem instead and so far it is working just fine, as I have just enough of a modicum of a skill set to set it up and have it function properly. I also had to buy a new toaster and mine mysteriously fell off my microwave table the other day and while I was out buying things I also got the newest Spenser book, of which I am about 50 or so pages into.
Finally this week I was at work the other day when I got a message from my friend Hope on Facebook. Those of you who have been around the blog for more than a minute know that Hope's name has popped up occasionally, I would say almost always in a good fashion. The most recent blogging occurrence was about two years ago, when I told the story of our trip to the ballet, where I got all fuddy duddied up (meaning I rented a tux) without her knowing but when I went to meet her there was just no comparison, she blew me and my cool threads away. Well as luck would have it, Hope's message to me was actual photos from that night (her mom took pics, this was back in the days before digital photography kids). Anyway, apparently Hope was going through some things and sent me pictures from that night. I found out that I was not suffering from Alzheimers, she really did look way better than I did. Don't believe me, have a look for yourself, her and I from about 25 years ago.
And that kids is a wrap, no more old photos or storytelling tonight, I have to work in the morning.
Friday, September 16, 2016
B365V3.51 - American History X
This should have been a good day. Or week for that matter. I won in both of my fantasy football leagues, just about done with a stretch of working 20 straight days (as of today 19 down, one to go) and yet here I stand, infused with a level of frustration that is approaching anger. Go ahead, stick my arm in the blood pressure machine today, I am sure to get the high score right about now. As I type, I am waiting on a bus to go in a homeward direction, a bus that is now 45 minutes late.
Why you say is the bus 45 minutes late? I think it has something to do with the fact that we managed to catch a bridge on fire a couple of weeks ago. Not one of those old covered wooden bridges either, rather a steel and concrete structure type job. And a repair that was supposed to take a couple of days is now working on week #3 with no timetable as to when they will actually go about fixing their fuck up.
What do you know, I bitch for a couple of paragraphs and a bus shows up, of course it is a bus with three busloads of people on it, as it is carrying passengers that have been waiting to be picked up since 4:15 and a bus arrived at 5:15, meaning he has the passengers for his route and the routes at 4:15 and 4:45.
Competence, thy name is not Pittsburgh.
It is not like the day started off great to begin with. I had a strange dream (nothing unusual there) involving someone I used to go to school with back in the days of papyrus and shit. Except I was pursuing him with a bunch of others in a car chase because this person abducted a little boy. Not sure what his intentions were with the kid, just that the overall belief was that they were not noble in nature. The car chase was taking place along all of these old back roads from back in my hometowny region. That was until we came upon a bridge and the bridge wasnt there. I temember thinking, this is my dream, surely my mind can manifest a bridge to cross, except that bridge was not forthcoming. I remember seeing somewhere once that it is within one's ability to control their dreams, in as much as they can conjure up things they need inside the dreamscape. Personally I have never gathered that level of control over my dreams, last nite was another time where I thought I could but couldn't. The bad guy,as it were, got away.
I dont remember where I saw that one can control their dreams, I may have read it in a magazine or seen it on TV. If I saw it on TV, I sure hope I didn't see it on the History Channel. What a shit show that network has become. Why sitting at the Squirrel Cage the other day (which is where I happen to be as I type this thing now, hoping to create a temporal loop to fuck with the execs at the History Channel) a show came on called American Pickers. The basic premise appears to be a couple of guys ride around and buy some people's shit because they are then going to resell that shit for more money to someone else. Not sure what being the middle man in a shit sandwich has to do with history, but there you go. I suppose in the most literal sense, if these guys did go buy this junk and then sold it to someone else, it is history because it did happen, but if we are going to mention such infinitesimal moments in history for television, perhaps I can get a TV deal for the times I went home and jerked one off to internet porn.
Not that the commercials on the channel were any better, a promo for a 10 part series called Doomsday. Some of the doomsday scenarios they will be looking into; alien invasion and a collision between planets. Of course we had a promo for that History channel staple, Ice Road Truckers season 10 for those of you counting. More shit that has nothing to do with history. They should be called the We Just Throw Shit on the Screen channel. Its like Fox News and The Weekly World News fucked and had a kid. But as long as that shit is passed off as history, PBS will never have to worry about losing it funding.
I did learn something today, jagoff is now in the Oxford English dictionary. This brings out a certain amount of regional pride in the locals, hey look, a word we used is now considered actual English. All I think is why can't we just fucking swear like normal people.
Well, time to head home and think about posting this from the brand new ye olde laptop. So, to steal from the great Greek philosophers, Seacrest out.
Why you say is the bus 45 minutes late? I think it has something to do with the fact that we managed to catch a bridge on fire a couple of weeks ago. Not one of those old covered wooden bridges either, rather a steel and concrete structure type job. And a repair that was supposed to take a couple of days is now working on week #3 with no timetable as to when they will actually go about fixing their fuck up.
What do you know, I bitch for a couple of paragraphs and a bus shows up, of course it is a bus with three busloads of people on it, as it is carrying passengers that have been waiting to be picked up since 4:15 and a bus arrived at 5:15, meaning he has the passengers for his route and the routes at 4:15 and 4:45.
Competence, thy name is not Pittsburgh.
It is not like the day started off great to begin with. I had a strange dream (nothing unusual there) involving someone I used to go to school with back in the days of papyrus and shit. Except I was pursuing him with a bunch of others in a car chase because this person abducted a little boy. Not sure what his intentions were with the kid, just that the overall belief was that they were not noble in nature. The car chase was taking place along all of these old back roads from back in my hometowny region. That was until we came upon a bridge and the bridge wasnt there. I temember thinking, this is my dream, surely my mind can manifest a bridge to cross, except that bridge was not forthcoming. I remember seeing somewhere once that it is within one's ability to control their dreams, in as much as they can conjure up things they need inside the dreamscape. Personally I have never gathered that level of control over my dreams, last nite was another time where I thought I could but couldn't. The bad guy,as it were, got away.
I dont remember where I saw that one can control their dreams, I may have read it in a magazine or seen it on TV. If I saw it on TV, I sure hope I didn't see it on the History Channel. What a shit show that network has become. Why sitting at the Squirrel Cage the other day (which is where I happen to be as I type this thing now, hoping to create a temporal loop to fuck with the execs at the History Channel) a show came on called American Pickers. The basic premise appears to be a couple of guys ride around and buy some people's shit because they are then going to resell that shit for more money to someone else. Not sure what being the middle man in a shit sandwich has to do with history, but there you go. I suppose in the most literal sense, if these guys did go buy this junk and then sold it to someone else, it is history because it did happen, but if we are going to mention such infinitesimal moments in history for television, perhaps I can get a TV deal for the times I went home and jerked one off to internet porn.
Not that the commercials on the channel were any better, a promo for a 10 part series called Doomsday. Some of the doomsday scenarios they will be looking into; alien invasion and a collision between planets. Of course we had a promo for that History channel staple, Ice Road Truckers season 10 for those of you counting. More shit that has nothing to do with history. They should be called the We Just Throw Shit on the Screen channel. Its like Fox News and The Weekly World News fucked and had a kid. But as long as that shit is passed off as history, PBS will never have to worry about losing it funding.
I did learn something today, jagoff is now in the Oxford English dictionary. This brings out a certain amount of regional pride in the locals, hey look, a word we used is now considered actual English. All I think is why can't we just fucking swear like normal people.
Well, time to head home and think about posting this from the brand new ye olde laptop. So, to steal from the great Greek philosophers, Seacrest out.
Friday, September 9, 2016
B365V3.50 - Work now, serenity later
So everyone, say hi to my new laptop. It just came via Amazon today, and a big kudos to the fine Amazon folks, I took the free shipping option and my laptop still arrived in two days. Who needs Prime anyway?
I got my laptop a little bit earlier today than most folks normally would have, simply because I had it shipped to work, where I basically live anyway, you are more likely to catch me there than in my own apartment. So I did the initial setup things while doing paperwork at my desk, then decided to take it for a spin by stopping at the Squirrel Cage for dinner tonight. Had a couple of issues getting the new toy to recognize the Jetpack when I first got here, bit all seems to be good now.
I wasn't kidding about the work thing I am usually there 6 days a week, tomorrow I have a truck coming in with three different orders on it. I would have asked Sammy to help out (and to see if he wanted to pick up a few extra hours) but the last two times I asked him he did even bother replying and he is in one of his pouty fit phases where he doesn't talk to anyone. Probably because I made it aware to Brian that other people were doing Sammy's job for him, I was putting away trucks, others were stocking the coolers and Brian said some words to him, and that is all it takes for Sammy to get pouty. personally I don't give a shit, put on your big boy pants and do your job.
That leads me to our most recent useless hire, Alex. Bad enough the kid says he can only work Tuesday and Thursday nights because he has classes. Brian only had him on the schedule for one day this week, one too many if you ask me, so he let him pick up a few hours on Thursday when we really didn't need him and then asked if he could work Sunday. It would seem to make sense, no one has class on Sunday, Alex lives in an apartment right across the street from the store. So Bria asks him if he can work 3pm-11pm Sunday night. The answer he gets back is "Can I start at 4pm?" Excuse me motherfucker, you live across the street and I am not rearranging how the store runs to accommodate your whims. I told Brian, fuck it, I will just work it. I am tired of employees who think we owe them something. We are granting you an opportunity to make money, you don't want it, stop wasting our time. I've got too many employees who have been there much longer who do not get weekends off, myself included. I am not about to coddle someone who can only work two days a week, I'd rather give those hours to someone who wants to work.
Yes I am having a bitter moment, because now that means I work Sunday and it will be at least 20 days in a row before I see a day off. Just need to keep reminding myself this is all for Vancouver. Just keep drilling it into my brain, Vancouver, Vancouver, Vancouver. Because I know that place is worth the aggravation I am going through now.
I got my laptop a little bit earlier today than most folks normally would have, simply because I had it shipped to work, where I basically live anyway, you are more likely to catch me there than in my own apartment. So I did the initial setup things while doing paperwork at my desk, then decided to take it for a spin by stopping at the Squirrel Cage for dinner tonight. Had a couple of issues getting the new toy to recognize the Jetpack when I first got here, bit all seems to be good now.
I wasn't kidding about the work thing I am usually there 6 days a week, tomorrow I have a truck coming in with three different orders on it. I would have asked Sammy to help out (and to see if he wanted to pick up a few extra hours) but the last two times I asked him he did even bother replying and he is in one of his pouty fit phases where he doesn't talk to anyone. Probably because I made it aware to Brian that other people were doing Sammy's job for him, I was putting away trucks, others were stocking the coolers and Brian said some words to him, and that is all it takes for Sammy to get pouty. personally I don't give a shit, put on your big boy pants and do your job.
That leads me to our most recent useless hire, Alex. Bad enough the kid says he can only work Tuesday and Thursday nights because he has classes. Brian only had him on the schedule for one day this week, one too many if you ask me, so he let him pick up a few hours on Thursday when we really didn't need him and then asked if he could work Sunday. It would seem to make sense, no one has class on Sunday, Alex lives in an apartment right across the street from the store. So Bria asks him if he can work 3pm-11pm Sunday night. The answer he gets back is "Can I start at 4pm?" Excuse me motherfucker, you live across the street and I am not rearranging how the store runs to accommodate your whims. I told Brian, fuck it, I will just work it. I am tired of employees who think we owe them something. We are granting you an opportunity to make money, you don't want it, stop wasting our time. I've got too many employees who have been there much longer who do not get weekends off, myself included. I am not about to coddle someone who can only work two days a week, I'd rather give those hours to someone who wants to work.
Yes I am having a bitter moment, because now that means I work Sunday and it will be at least 20 days in a row before I see a day off. Just need to keep reminding myself this is all for Vancouver. Just keep drilling it into my brain, Vancouver, Vancouver, Vancouver. Because I know that place is worth the aggravation I am going through now.
Friday, September 2, 2016
B365V3.49 - Carl Douglas dreams
So this is the evening of my second fantasy football draft. I fucked up the first one, I thought it was at 8:30 Sunday evening, it was at 6:30 instead, so the system had to auto draft for me. I guess it came up with an okay team, though I will be honest, fantasy football is turning into one of those things that I just don't care much about anymore. I think the breaking point for me was the Ray Rice incident. We all had an inkling of what happened, even before the elevator video. Then the commissioner basically stuck his head in the sand, as if ignorance could be bliss in this instance, then proceeded to go on a bunch of witch hunts throughout the league to show how tough he is, and instituting rule changes just to prop up the illusion he was doing something. Football for me has just about crossed the line wrestling did a few years back when Chris Benoit murdered his entire family and the WWE did a night dedicated to Chris without knowing the facts of the case, so they ended up spending a night praising a murderer.
Perhaps I miss my old league with the guys from Uncle Jimmy's as well. That league was for money (neither of my current leagues play for cash) and we had our assortment of fantasy football league stereotypes in it, the guy who was in because everyone else was, even if it was unclear what he was doing; the guy who would bitch the league entry fee was too low, we should be playing for more money, then when he would lose a game, would bitch about the rules and everything else. This was usually met with abject pussy references from the other league members (what a pussy?, adjust your tampon, must be his time of the month, etc.). Its politically incorrect shit, but it is a bunch of guys talking amongst a bunch of guys. Then there were the guys who would complain about no trades being made through the course of the season, but they offer nothing and expect everything. It the fantasy lingo, someone who trades away talent and gets nothing in return has been trade raped. There were others who would make a deal just to say they made one, and still others whom you couldn't carry on a conversation with without it coming back to their fantasy team. It was all consuming for them. I like my team and all, but it isn't the only thing going on in my life.
In that regard it was like my friend Jim, we used to meet up on Sundays and play Dungeons & Dragons. It was a cool bunch of people, every Sunday we would play for a few hours. If my girlfriend at the time was playing with us, we would be sure to see she was killed first so we could enjoy the rest of our afternoon. But every time I would see Jim during the course of the week, he would start talking D&D strategy for the following Sunday. It became all consuming.
What do you know, my bitching and moaning got me up to draft time, then with 14 teams the draft took a while and now I am back. Not really enamored with my team, but then I put no effort into it, unlike back in the day when I would have had two draft guides and charted who I wanted. I would have scoured the internet, wrote a couple of blog posts about who I did like and who I didn't. Nowadays I don't like anyone, so that problem is solved. I did get some pre draft good news though, I am getting my Valentine's Day present, a pair of tickets to see the Pens and Canucks. Now I just have to go finding someone I can tolerate for an evening, besides myself.
I should be going to bed, I volunteered for a double at work tomorrow, but recently I have been having vivid dreams that I remember as soon as I wake up (because I sleep for like an hour at a time, I am a horrible bed mate) but then I look at the clock and go back to sleep again and forget about the dream and have another one, wake up again and repeat the process. It is like channel flipping in my brain. I should get a dream book an write this stuff down as it happens (plenty of semi decent blog material in there) but a dream book sounds too much like work and I work enough as it is.
Prime example, the other night I went to bed around 4am, woke up at 5am from a dream. In the dream I was sitting in a bar.Because it was a dream, it started taking o the aspects of real life, I looked around the bar for a poker machine to kill some time and couldn't find one, so I went up to the bar and ordered a Yuengling. The bartender for some reason brought me a full rocks glass of Jameson's, which is good enough in my book. So I am sitting there nursing my drink, the bartender gives out last call so I am making my way to the exit. Right at the door is a girl sitting on a barstool, I assume it was the bouncer's perch most of the time, but she is sitting there instead. people are walking out of the bar, the door is propped part way open and I decide I will make some small talk. Mind you, even in my dreams I am defeatist, I figure nothing will come of this, no exchange of numbers or anything of the like, to which I am not disappointed. She is just sitting there and I am standing there and we are talking when all of a sudden, two guys cut between us, one gets betwen me and her, the other knocks her off of her barstool. the door flies open and she falls, I see at this point there is a set of steps leading up to the door. She had fallen in such a manner that she landed beside the steps onto what I would have assumed was the sidewalk. I go outside to see if she is okay and the street isn't a street, rather a series of concrete landings with more steps between them. She hadn't fallen onto the sidewalk, but rather onto one of the landings, rolled down another flight of steps and was laying on the second landing down. Chivalry isn't dead in my dreams, I went to see if she was okay, I see her standing now, she is being pinned against the wall by the same guy who knocked her off the barstool. As I am going to see if she is okay, the other guy gets between me and the steps down to the next landing and is mouthing some type of warning to not go down there if I know what's good for me. I proceed to kick him in the chest (everybody was kung fu fighting, those kicks were fast as lightning) and knock him down the flight of steps to the next landing and then I wake up. Perhaps my mind was bored with this story at that point, much as you the reader probably are, and wanted to change the channel, I woke up, puttered around the apartment for a minute, then went back to sleep to dream again.
Oh well, like I said, I double in the morning (,ore vacation money, yay!) so I had better call it a night.
Perhaps I miss my old league with the guys from Uncle Jimmy's as well. That league was for money (neither of my current leagues play for cash) and we had our assortment of fantasy football league stereotypes in it, the guy who was in because everyone else was, even if it was unclear what he was doing; the guy who would bitch the league entry fee was too low, we should be playing for more money, then when he would lose a game, would bitch about the rules and everything else. This was usually met with abject pussy references from the other league members (what a pussy?, adjust your tampon, must be his time of the month, etc.). Its politically incorrect shit, but it is a bunch of guys talking amongst a bunch of guys. Then there were the guys who would complain about no trades being made through the course of the season, but they offer nothing and expect everything. It the fantasy lingo, someone who trades away talent and gets nothing in return has been trade raped. There were others who would make a deal just to say they made one, and still others whom you couldn't carry on a conversation with without it coming back to their fantasy team. It was all consuming for them. I like my team and all, but it isn't the only thing going on in my life.
In that regard it was like my friend Jim, we used to meet up on Sundays and play Dungeons & Dragons. It was a cool bunch of people, every Sunday we would play for a few hours. If my girlfriend at the time was playing with us, we would be sure to see she was killed first so we could enjoy the rest of our afternoon. But every time I would see Jim during the course of the week, he would start talking D&D strategy for the following Sunday. It became all consuming.
What do you know, my bitching and moaning got me up to draft time, then with 14 teams the draft took a while and now I am back. Not really enamored with my team, but then I put no effort into it, unlike back in the day when I would have had two draft guides and charted who I wanted. I would have scoured the internet, wrote a couple of blog posts about who I did like and who I didn't. Nowadays I don't like anyone, so that problem is solved. I did get some pre draft good news though, I am getting my Valentine's Day present, a pair of tickets to see the Pens and Canucks. Now I just have to go finding someone I can tolerate for an evening, besides myself.
I should be going to bed, I volunteered for a double at work tomorrow, but recently I have been having vivid dreams that I remember as soon as I wake up (because I sleep for like an hour at a time, I am a horrible bed mate) but then I look at the clock and go back to sleep again and forget about the dream and have another one, wake up again and repeat the process. It is like channel flipping in my brain. I should get a dream book an write this stuff down as it happens (plenty of semi decent blog material in there) but a dream book sounds too much like work and I work enough as it is.
Prime example, the other night I went to bed around 4am, woke up at 5am from a dream. In the dream I was sitting in a bar.Because it was a dream, it started taking o the aspects of real life, I looked around the bar for a poker machine to kill some time and couldn't find one, so I went up to the bar and ordered a Yuengling. The bartender for some reason brought me a full rocks glass of Jameson's, which is good enough in my book. So I am sitting there nursing my drink, the bartender gives out last call so I am making my way to the exit. Right at the door is a girl sitting on a barstool, I assume it was the bouncer's perch most of the time, but she is sitting there instead. people are walking out of the bar, the door is propped part way open and I decide I will make some small talk. Mind you, even in my dreams I am defeatist, I figure nothing will come of this, no exchange of numbers or anything of the like, to which I am not disappointed. She is just sitting there and I am standing there and we are talking when all of a sudden, two guys cut between us, one gets betwen me and her, the other knocks her off of her barstool. the door flies open and she falls, I see at this point there is a set of steps leading up to the door. She had fallen in such a manner that she landed beside the steps onto what I would have assumed was the sidewalk. I go outside to see if she is okay and the street isn't a street, rather a series of concrete landings with more steps between them. She hadn't fallen onto the sidewalk, but rather onto one of the landings, rolled down another flight of steps and was laying on the second landing down. Chivalry isn't dead in my dreams, I went to see if she was okay, I see her standing now, she is being pinned against the wall by the same guy who knocked her off the barstool. As I am going to see if she is okay, the other guy gets between me and the steps down to the next landing and is mouthing some type of warning to not go down there if I know what's good for me. I proceed to kick him in the chest (everybody was kung fu fighting, those kicks were fast as lightning) and knock him down the flight of steps to the next landing and then I wake up. Perhaps my mind was bored with this story at that point, much as you the reader probably are, and wanted to change the channel, I woke up, puttered around the apartment for a minute, then went back to sleep to dream again.
Oh well, like I said, I double in the morning (,ore vacation money, yay!) so I had better call it a night.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
B365V3.48 - Parting is such sweet sorrow unless.....
Well, it looks like I finally have to pay to play. For those who follow along and for those who don't a little recapping is in order. A few months back we had an issue with our credit cards at work, well not so much with the cards as it was with our internet access, and given we process our credit cards online, having no access meant credit and debit cards became useless for us, we became a cash only business. It was hurting us to the tune of about a grand a day. Naturally we placed calls to our register company and to Verizon, who does our internet. As the fates would decree, it was at the time Verizon workers went on strike. Verizon tried farming out some if their work to contractors who were overburdened and under qualified for the tasks they were being asked to do. It took them four days to get someone to our location, he showed up one day, said he would be back the following day and never showed up again, he just up and quit. So we were left with trying to come up with work arounds and what not. Verizon sent us a device, a Ellipsis Jetpack, which is just basically a wifi hotspot. It did little to solve our problems though, because our registers and back office are not wifi capable. Another call to our register people came up with a temporary solution, he got a wifi receiver for the back office and that got us a patchwork solution until the underlying problem was resolved, that being we had no internet access from our Verizon landline.
Eventually the Verizon strike ended, our contact at Verizon, Russell, came and looked at our problem and resolved the issue in about a half hour's time. But Verizon left the Jetpack behind, which allowed me and it to become best friends over summer. Cue up the montage music with me taking the Jetpack on the bus, to the Waterfront, to the little kiddie pee pond, to Point State Park. We were inseparable. I still used it at work, with both my laptop and my tablet, so I can't say it was all fun and games, it had practical work applications as well. So I go to log on yesterday, establish my network and i am getting a sign in notice, my days of free wifi had apparently come to an end.
As it turns out though, I was able to attach the Jetpack to my existing cell phone account (which the company pays) so if I can justify the cost with work product getting accomplished due in part to having the Jetpack, chances are the company will pick up the tab for it. For now me and the Jetpack are on borrowed time, and I am hoping that we will not be bidding a tearful farewell.
Eventually the Verizon strike ended, our contact at Verizon, Russell, came and looked at our problem and resolved the issue in about a half hour's time. But Verizon left the Jetpack behind, which allowed me and it to become best friends over summer. Cue up the montage music with me taking the Jetpack on the bus, to the Waterfront, to the little kiddie pee pond, to Point State Park. We were inseparable. I still used it at work, with both my laptop and my tablet, so I can't say it was all fun and games, it had practical work applications as well. So I go to log on yesterday, establish my network and i am getting a sign in notice, my days of free wifi had apparently come to an end.
As it turns out though, I was able to attach the Jetpack to my existing cell phone account (which the company pays) so if I can justify the cost with work product getting accomplished due in part to having the Jetpack, chances are the company will pick up the tab for it. For now me and the Jetpack are on borrowed time, and I am hoping that we will not be bidding a tearful farewell.
Sunday, August 28, 2016
B365V3.47 - Working lunches
So Friday at work I got to pull off one of those business lunches. They are such a rarity for me, that when they do happen I kind of enjoy them. Now this isn't a traditional business lunch where you go sit down with professional people and haggle, barter, negotiate over minutiae, rather it was just me eating a sandwich outside of work and getting paid for it. Perhaps I might explain.
Ed made it back from his Florida hiatus about two weeks ago (he has already left again,so I must be doing something right) and over the course of those two weeks I only got yelled at once. Not that Ed yells a lot, but usually when he reappears he comes up with back checklist of things not done to his standard, then I get a lecture on it. This time what set him off was something I warned my crew about repeatedly, which is if Ed stops in on the weekend, the first thing he is going to check is the Little Debbie snack cakes, next he will get a french vanilla cappuccino so make sure those areas are always neat in case he stops in, which he usually does before or after a trip to the casino. Sure enough, his first Sunday back he stops in on his way to the casino and where does he go first but the Little Debbie cakes, which were not straightened up. That sets him off in a tizzy, the next day I get a lecture on everything not done right. If people would just listen to me once in a while, I think I know what the fuck I am talking about.
Ed made it back from his Florida hiatus about two weeks ago (he has already left again,so I must be doing something right) and over the course of those two weeks I only got yelled at once. Not that Ed yells a lot, but usually when he reappears he comes up with back checklist of things not done to his standard, then I get a lecture on it. This time what set him off was something I warned my crew about repeatedly, which is if Ed stops in on the weekend, the first thing he is going to check is the Little Debbie snack cakes, next he will get a french vanilla cappuccino so make sure those areas are always neat in case he stops in, which he usually does before or after a trip to the casino. Sure enough, his first Sunday back he stops in on his way to the casino and where does he go first but the Little Debbie cakes, which were not straightened up. That sets him off in a tizzy, the next day I get a lecture on everything not done right. If people would just listen to me once in a while, I think I know what the fuck I am talking about.
Sunday, August 21, 2016
B365V3.46 - Rio
Since tonight is the closing ceremonies on Rio, might as well did into ye olde cranium and come up with some thoughts.
First, Rio was a pretty serviceable Duran Duran song. Not their best, but not their worst either.
I was watching some coverage the other day and i saw a guy shit himself while walking. Is that an event? Because if they make shit walking an event, I can think of plenty of Depends wearing elderly who stroll around the mall early in the morning who should try out. If we can get full contact bingo into the Olympics too, maybe we will have some use for older folks after all, besides getting all the good seats on the bus and being rewarded with senior citizen discounts simply for breathing longer than others. Heck, if you live past normal life expectancy, you should be taxed on the oxygen you breathe because you are gobbling up air that could be used by a productive member of society. You could get a tax credit if you are a shit walker though, so go for the gold grandma.
There was a point just before the games started when the story was how unprepared for the Olympics Rio was. This was sound and fury signifying nothing. Of course the media were going to write horror stories, anything that might affect or inconvenience them is a crime against humanity. The same bullshit stories run before every Olympic games, London wasn't ready, Sochi wasn't ready, yet for the most part the games go off without a hitch. People were not dropping like flies because of Zika, , nor were people dying after swimming in oceans of garbage or diving into a green pool. At least they didn't have to cancel any events, unlike Pittsburgh, where a third of the Pittsburgh Triathlon had to be cancelled, when sewage run off into the river eliminated the swimming portion of the event.
If Pittsburgh were to ever host the Summer Olympics, Ryan Lochte should feel right at home with all of the drunk jagoffs who go to the South Side on weekends. Over there vandalism and public urination might as well be Olympic events.
While I liked most of the sports I got to see (a somewhat limited selection due to not having cable) the amount of events that were not on the NBC flagship so they could show stuff on tape delay was horrible. Rio is one hour ahead of us, not half a world away, i would prefer live events as opposed to shit where i already know the outcome (NBC, most of your audience has internet access and already knows the results of events that have happen, if they were that attached to those events to begin with). This goes doubly for the local NBC affiliate, Channel 11, who used time during their evening newscasts to tell us that they had the result of such and such event, and you can stay tuned to find out the results later in primetime, or you can go to our webpage. What a dangerous practice that is, delaying actual news coverage to serve ones advertisers. How far does that practice go at Channel 11 anyway? Do they not cover stories that make advertisers or employees look bad? Because they have set the bar now that the advertising dollar is more important than actual reporting, just wonder how ingrained that practice is over at Television Hill.
I did find a new crush while watching the Olympics though. I guess there are some couples out there that have cheat lists, people they get a pass on sleeping with should the opportunity ever arise (my father's cheat list had two criteria, 1) are they female and 2) are they breathing). Since I have no need of a cheat list (no one to cheat on) I am going to add to my imaginary non needed list Mariafe Artacho del Solar. But then I have two weaknesses when it comes to women, redheads and volleyball players). So my cheat list now has three names, the aforementioned Mariafe, Marta Menegatti, and Harriet Wheeler.
That was all I got out of Rio, and I didn't even get a lousy t shirt.
First, Rio was a pretty serviceable Duran Duran song. Not their best, but not their worst either.
I was watching some coverage the other day and i saw a guy shit himself while walking. Is that an event? Because if they make shit walking an event, I can think of plenty of Depends wearing elderly who stroll around the mall early in the morning who should try out. If we can get full contact bingo into the Olympics too, maybe we will have some use for older folks after all, besides getting all the good seats on the bus and being rewarded with senior citizen discounts simply for breathing longer than others. Heck, if you live past normal life expectancy, you should be taxed on the oxygen you breathe because you are gobbling up air that could be used by a productive member of society. You could get a tax credit if you are a shit walker though, so go for the gold grandma.
There was a point just before the games started when the story was how unprepared for the Olympics Rio was. This was sound and fury signifying nothing. Of course the media were going to write horror stories, anything that might affect or inconvenience them is a crime against humanity. The same bullshit stories run before every Olympic games, London wasn't ready, Sochi wasn't ready, yet for the most part the games go off without a hitch. People were not dropping like flies because of Zika, , nor were people dying after swimming in oceans of garbage or diving into a green pool. At least they didn't have to cancel any events, unlike Pittsburgh, where a third of the Pittsburgh Triathlon had to be cancelled, when sewage run off into the river eliminated the swimming portion of the event.
If Pittsburgh were to ever host the Summer Olympics, Ryan Lochte should feel right at home with all of the drunk jagoffs who go to the South Side on weekends. Over there vandalism and public urination might as well be Olympic events.
While I liked most of the sports I got to see (a somewhat limited selection due to not having cable) the amount of events that were not on the NBC flagship so they could show stuff on tape delay was horrible. Rio is one hour ahead of us, not half a world away, i would prefer live events as opposed to shit where i already know the outcome (NBC, most of your audience has internet access and already knows the results of events that have happen, if they were that attached to those events to begin with). This goes doubly for the local NBC affiliate, Channel 11, who used time during their evening newscasts to tell us that they had the result of such and such event, and you can stay tuned to find out the results later in primetime, or you can go to our webpage. What a dangerous practice that is, delaying actual news coverage to serve ones advertisers. How far does that practice go at Channel 11 anyway? Do they not cover stories that make advertisers or employees look bad? Because they have set the bar now that the advertising dollar is more important than actual reporting, just wonder how ingrained that practice is over at Television Hill.
I did find a new crush while watching the Olympics though. I guess there are some couples out there that have cheat lists, people they get a pass on sleeping with should the opportunity ever arise (my father's cheat list had two criteria, 1) are they female and 2) are they breathing). Since I have no need of a cheat list (no one to cheat on) I am going to add to my imaginary non needed list Mariafe Artacho del Solar. But then I have two weaknesses when it comes to women, redheads and volleyball players). So my cheat list now has three names, the aforementioned Mariafe, Marta Menegatti, and Harriet Wheeler.
That was all I got out of Rio, and I didn't even get a lousy t shirt.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
B365V3.45 - I don't get it
First things first around these parts, some congratulations are in order. It would appear that Goodstuff (http://goodstuffsworld.blogspot.com/) has reached 1,000,000 hits. I came across Allen's blog back in back in my Multiply days and it is good to see a fellow blogger that I have known for years hit such a milestone. Perhaps that will be me someday, though think I will die first. I don't grind out content nearly quickly enough, nor write interestingly enough entries for me to hit such a milestone.
But then I don't write for the some reason other(s) write. I ran into an instance this week, where a blog was posted (no I am not naming names) but the poster then got pissed with some of the response and proceeded to turn the responses int a level of entertainment/drama all its own, simply because the respondents did not share the same opinion. I have always considered my blog a free speech zone, not that I get many comments but rest assured should you feel the urge to comment I am not going to turn it into some self serving drama for entertainment purposes of my acquaintances.
Another thing I don't get but have been seeing a lot of of Facebook these days is people celebrating being clean and sober. Perhaps I should associate with a better quality friends but I have been clean and sober for 47 years now (save for the occasional night out) and I am not expecting anyone to throw me a fucking parade for making responsible life choices.
Oh well, I better put a wrap on this before I put myself in a bad frame of mind. I am off tomorrow, no sense going into the day by being pissy.
But then I don't write for the some reason other(s) write. I ran into an instance this week, where a blog was posted (no I am not naming names) but the poster then got pissed with some of the response and proceeded to turn the responses int a level of entertainment/drama all its own, simply because the respondents did not share the same opinion. I have always considered my blog a free speech zone, not that I get many comments but rest assured should you feel the urge to comment I am not going to turn it into some self serving drama for entertainment purposes of my acquaintances.
Another thing I don't get but have been seeing a lot of of Facebook these days is people celebrating being clean and sober. Perhaps I should associate with a better quality friends but I have been clean and sober for 47 years now (save for the occasional night out) and I am not expecting anyone to throw me a fucking parade for making responsible life choices.
Oh well, I better put a wrap on this before I put myself in a bad frame of mind. I am off tomorrow, no sense going into the day by being pissy.
Thursday, August 11, 2016
B365V3.44 - Tainted
There comes a point in time where you need to repeat things, because as they taught me in radio many moons ago, the audience is always changing, which is probably why i can't stand listening to the radio anymore and hearing the same clap trap ad infinitum. Well there is that and the fact that no one likes to see the sausage being made and I made that sausage for 12+ years. Not that I hate it, but it comes with a certain amount of predictability for me. When you life becomes thinking in what would make a good bit, as opposed to what is actually good, then your soul has forever been tainted.
But alas, that is not what we are going to revisit today, no old radio war stories, but instead a near long dead blog feature, the change meter. For you old schoolers you can move on past this blog entry to the next one, whenever that comes, for you new schoolers an explanation is in order. Back in the Yahoo 360 days (by the way, if you want to start a failing internet start up, Verizon will buy it from you, they are now the proud owners of AOL and Yahoo), but back in the wee days of my blogging career (I use career loosely considering I don't consider blogging work, but rather an escape from doing actual work) I was looking for something to do that was unique to my blog (thinking in bits again, I admit my soul is tainted) and thus birthed the change meter. What it is in a nutshell is simply a collection of monies that I find on the ground through the course of my travails. Of course not all of it has to be actual currency, a couple of examples if I may. One day I found, tucked into the back of an empty pack of cigarettes, a monthly bus pass. As luck would have it, I found it on the first day of the month and at the time a monthly bus pass retailed for $60, so $60 got added to the total. Similarly at work one day I found a winning lottery ticket in the trash can. I plucked it out originally so I could get the chances on it in a second chance drawing the state was having with that particular game. I went to enter the code online and the code couldn't be accepted for second chancedom. Which usually means the code has already been entered or the ticket was a winner. So I checked and sure enough one of the numbers matched and the prize was $100. because the lottery now has touch screen machines which issue credits and vouchers, finding a winning ticket isn't much of a big thing, unless you fins a winning ticket that hasn't been redeemed yet, which it turns out I had. So that $100 got added to the change meter.
There are limits to what can be added though, anything that was possibly in my possession previously does not get added, so if I am at the laundromat and as I am taking my clothes out of the washer or dryer and I find a $20 bill laying in the washer, chances are it was in my pocket when I began the washing process so it can't be found. My misplacing of things has no place in change meter metrics.
Since my last change meter entry, Google seems to think it was Christmas time of last year, I probably should be adding to that though I didn't realize that much time had passed. Anyway, the previous total was $660.98 and I am going to add some more to that amount, like 27.14 more. Yes, I treat money on the ground much like some people walk around trying to capture Pokemon. With me it is change and Coke caps. Gotta catch em all, lol. So our new change meter total is $688.12. Don't knw why, but when I do change meter updates I get visions in my head of Bill Cardille going to the tote board for the local chapter of the Jerry Lewis/MDA telethon. Like I said, my soul is tainted.
But alas, that is not what we are going to revisit today, no old radio war stories, but instead a near long dead blog feature, the change meter. For you old schoolers you can move on past this blog entry to the next one, whenever that comes, for you new schoolers an explanation is in order. Back in the Yahoo 360 days (by the way, if you want to start a failing internet start up, Verizon will buy it from you, they are now the proud owners of AOL and Yahoo), but back in the wee days of my blogging career (I use career loosely considering I don't consider blogging work, but rather an escape from doing actual work) I was looking for something to do that was unique to my blog (thinking in bits again, I admit my soul is tainted) and thus birthed the change meter. What it is in a nutshell is simply a collection of monies that I find on the ground through the course of my travails. Of course not all of it has to be actual currency, a couple of examples if I may. One day I found, tucked into the back of an empty pack of cigarettes, a monthly bus pass. As luck would have it, I found it on the first day of the month and at the time a monthly bus pass retailed for $60, so $60 got added to the total. Similarly at work one day I found a winning lottery ticket in the trash can. I plucked it out originally so I could get the chances on it in a second chance drawing the state was having with that particular game. I went to enter the code online and the code couldn't be accepted for second chancedom. Which usually means the code has already been entered or the ticket was a winner. So I checked and sure enough one of the numbers matched and the prize was $100. because the lottery now has touch screen machines which issue credits and vouchers, finding a winning ticket isn't much of a big thing, unless you fins a winning ticket that hasn't been redeemed yet, which it turns out I had. So that $100 got added to the change meter.
There are limits to what can be added though, anything that was possibly in my possession previously does not get added, so if I am at the laundromat and as I am taking my clothes out of the washer or dryer and I find a $20 bill laying in the washer, chances are it was in my pocket when I began the washing process so it can't be found. My misplacing of things has no place in change meter metrics.
Since my last change meter entry, Google seems to think it was Christmas time of last year, I probably should be adding to that though I didn't realize that much time had passed. Anyway, the previous total was $660.98 and I am going to add some more to that amount, like 27.14 more. Yes, I treat money on the ground much like some people walk around trying to capture Pokemon. With me it is change and Coke caps. Gotta catch em all, lol. So our new change meter total is $688.12. Don't knw why, but when I do change meter updates I get visions in my head of Bill Cardille going to the tote board for the local chapter of the Jerry Lewis/MDA telethon. Like I said, my soul is tainted.
Friday, August 5, 2016
B365V3.43 - At least someone reads this
Well it would seem that even if almost nobody reads my blog, (unless I use the word vagina someplace) apparently someone does. I had a small rant in my post vacation blog about how superior I found the public transportation in Vancouver to Pittsburgh, it was, like our system, card based. But everything falls under one fare, the subway, buses and seabus, where as here if you go too far you have to pay more for crossing an arbitrary border, there are different fees for the subway depending on when you ride, the subway doesn't go anywhere near the airport unlike Vancouver where you can take the subway and be downtown in 20 minutes. Another neat feature was that at the bus stops they had the arrival times of each bus posted right at the stops.
So excuse me if I take credit for the events that are taking place at the Port Authority these days, (last I checked you didn't blog about how inferior our transit system was) but we are transitioning to a one fare system, mostly card based (cash payers will pay an extra .25 per ride) which if it keeps one person from getting on the bus in front of me and then fumbling around in their purse for correct hange, then I can live with this change as well. Also popping up dowtown were bus stops with arrival times (and maps which Vancouver does not have).
Who knows, maybe in another 50 or 100 years we will have the subway going all the way to the airport as well. Or maybe sooner now that I mentioned in in my blog.
So excuse me if I take credit for the events that are taking place at the Port Authority these days, (last I checked you didn't blog about how inferior our transit system was) but we are transitioning to a one fare system, mostly card based (cash payers will pay an extra .25 per ride) which if it keeps one person from getting on the bus in front of me and then fumbling around in their purse for correct hange, then I can live with this change as well. Also popping up dowtown were bus stops with arrival times (and maps which Vancouver does not have).
Who knows, maybe in another 50 or 100 years we will have the subway going all the way to the airport as well. Or maybe sooner now that I mentioned in in my blog.
Sunday, July 24, 2016
B365V3.42 - My problems come in 3D
Well Friday turned out to be a decent day for yours truly, which is better than I thought it would be, but then my plans sucked and got in the way. But I got into work and for the third time this week we had a no call no show in the deli, this time it was someone I wish we hadn't hired back so for me it was a warmth of the cockles of my heart moment. Brian fired them a second time (let's hope there isn't a third), but in my book it is addition by subtraction.
Plus I had 5 different cigarette orders to sort through on Friday's delivery and I didn't mess any of them up, which is also a good thing. Usually there is a carton or three missing, especially when I have almost 300 cartons coming in, the vendor will be out of stock on something or I will screw something up.
I realized on Thursday that Friday was the premiere of the new Star Trek movie. So I figured if I got everything done in a timely fashion Friday I would head over to the Waterfront and check it out. Maybe throw in some dinner too and call it a Matt night.
Well I got things done in a timely fashion, caught a 57 and headed off to the Waterfront and that is where the day started to turn downhill. The bus was detoured for something on 2nd Avenue and instead took a bunch of back streets across the South Side until getting on Carson Street over by 18th Street, even though it could have got on Carson right off of the 10th Street Bridge. With all of the turns on side streets I can guarantee you they saved no time whatsoever. The bus didn't get back on 2nd Avenue until the Hot Metal Bridge.
Eventually the bus made it to my destination and it was all kinds of hot and muggy out. I opted for Red Robin, I was in a burgery kind of mood, and as I am walking there the air is so heavy and clingy that I can smell burgers from their kitchen vents and the fact that the wet air just left the smell hang rather than dissipate. It was like walking through burger grease just to get to the restaurant.
I got inside and was seated in the pub section and I saw that Red Robin is also preparing for the ramifications for the fight for a $15/hr minimum wage. All of the tables now have tablets that can take your order, of give you your check, or take payment on your bill. Literally they can be down to just food runners from the kitchen, the waiting tables job will be obsolete in the new economy. But for now they still have waiters and waitresses and I gt to deal with a human being. I got me a Royal Robin, which is a burger with a fried egg. The egg w o runny I had to go ll civilized and use a fork and knife, let I get yolk all over my hands. But the food and service overall were good, and after finishing up my iced tea I headed off to Loews, where the fight for $15 lives on.
See, they removed the ticket sellers, now they are touch screen panels, you swipe through the movies, tap the move you want, then a list of showtimes pops up underneath it, you pick your showtime, swipe your credit or debit card and you are done, it prints out your ticket and you head off to your theater. I arrived at 6:09pm and I saw there was a showing for 6:15pm. Not only that, they had the VIP seating with the leather chairs I like for that showing so I upgraded and got me a leather seat. I swipe my card and my ticket prints out and it ends up being a 3D showing. I hate 3D movies, they add nothing to the film for me and I have to sit there with a dorky pair of glasses overtop my own glasses just so I can get an effect that looks like I am watching a movie through a fucking Viewmaster.
Still I am there and I bought the ticket, so I figure I will suffer in silence. It is Trek after all, and I loved Next Gen and Deep Space Nine. This wasn't as good as either of those however. When your plot has such holes as a captain crash landing on a planet and apparently forgetting where his ship was. The conflict resolution consisted of playing the Beastie Boys really loud to get rid of most of the baddies and the big bad guy had the requisite chase scene through a populated area, only to have Kirk beat him my kicking him and a biological weapon out into space and as you can tell by my description I was highly unimpressed.
The best part of the movie was when it was over and taking off those stupid glasses. So my Friday would have been better had I not made any plans at all.
Plus I had 5 different cigarette orders to sort through on Friday's delivery and I didn't mess any of them up, which is also a good thing. Usually there is a carton or three missing, especially when I have almost 300 cartons coming in, the vendor will be out of stock on something or I will screw something up.
I realized on Thursday that Friday was the premiere of the new Star Trek movie. So I figured if I got everything done in a timely fashion Friday I would head over to the Waterfront and check it out. Maybe throw in some dinner too and call it a Matt night.
Well I got things done in a timely fashion, caught a 57 and headed off to the Waterfront and that is where the day started to turn downhill. The bus was detoured for something on 2nd Avenue and instead took a bunch of back streets across the South Side until getting on Carson Street over by 18th Street, even though it could have got on Carson right off of the 10th Street Bridge. With all of the turns on side streets I can guarantee you they saved no time whatsoever. The bus didn't get back on 2nd Avenue until the Hot Metal Bridge.
Eventually the bus made it to my destination and it was all kinds of hot and muggy out. I opted for Red Robin, I was in a burgery kind of mood, and as I am walking there the air is so heavy and clingy that I can smell burgers from their kitchen vents and the fact that the wet air just left the smell hang rather than dissipate. It was like walking through burger grease just to get to the restaurant.
I got inside and was seated in the pub section and I saw that Red Robin is also preparing for the ramifications for the fight for a $15/hr minimum wage. All of the tables now have tablets that can take your order, of give you your check, or take payment on your bill. Literally they can be down to just food runners from the kitchen, the waiting tables job will be obsolete in the new economy. But for now they still have waiters and waitresses and I gt to deal with a human being. I got me a Royal Robin, which is a burger with a fried egg. The egg w o runny I had to go ll civilized and use a fork and knife, let I get yolk all over my hands. But the food and service overall were good, and after finishing up my iced tea I headed off to Loews, where the fight for $15 lives on.
See, they removed the ticket sellers, now they are touch screen panels, you swipe through the movies, tap the move you want, then a list of showtimes pops up underneath it, you pick your showtime, swipe your credit or debit card and you are done, it prints out your ticket and you head off to your theater. I arrived at 6:09pm and I saw there was a showing for 6:15pm. Not only that, they had the VIP seating with the leather chairs I like for that showing so I upgraded and got me a leather seat. I swipe my card and my ticket prints out and it ends up being a 3D showing. I hate 3D movies, they add nothing to the film for me and I have to sit there with a dorky pair of glasses overtop my own glasses just so I can get an effect that looks like I am watching a movie through a fucking Viewmaster.
Still I am there and I bought the ticket, so I figure I will suffer in silence. It is Trek after all, and I loved Next Gen and Deep Space Nine. This wasn't as good as either of those however. When your plot has such holes as a captain crash landing on a planet and apparently forgetting where his ship was. The conflict resolution consisted of playing the Beastie Boys really loud to get rid of most of the baddies and the big bad guy had the requisite chase scene through a populated area, only to have Kirk beat him my kicking him and a biological weapon out into space and as you can tell by my description I was highly unimpressed.
The best part of the movie was when it was over and taking off those stupid glasses. So my Friday would have been better had I not made any plans at all.
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
B365V3.41 - Cardille
"My family promised dad that he could go home to pass. We are transferring dad from the hospital to home. He will be in hospice care. Everytime I tell dad how many letters he is getting he smiles. Although we are so very sad, we know what an amazing life dad had. I told him he was the best father, husband, grandpa and friend, I or anyone could have had. He smiled. I told him he was going home. He smiled. Because of all your prayers, cards, drawings and love, dad is going out with a chariot of angels taking him home. We are taking our daddy home. Love, Lori Cardille"
The above was taken from Lori Cardille's Facebook feed, because this is one of those posts I hate to write. I never know what words to put together when dealing with a person, or in this case, a city's loss and if Bill Cardille is on what amounts to borrowed time at this point, then the city of Pittsburgh is suffering a loss. I don't know many people in my age bracket or older who do not have fond memories of Bill Cardille, whether it be his work on studio wresting back in the day, his show "Chiller Theater" which showed a bunch of B list horror flicks that were more funny than scary (http://www.chillertheatermemories.com, his cameo in "Night of the Living Dead", his local run on the MDA telethon where he would host the local cutaways during labor Day weekend, his time doing the weather on Channel 11 or listening to his show on the radio, pretty much anyone who is anyone around these parts has at least one Bill Cardille memory to share.
My first memories of him were mostly with the Chiller Theater, trying to sneak up past my bedtime to catch a minute or three of it (Chiller Theater was popular enough to preempt Saturday Night Live in Pittsburgh back in those days) and if I was lucky enough and didn't get caught by a parental unit, I would catch at least part of the show, before my eyes would start to sag and I would fall asleep.
Funny thing though as luck would have it, my radio career would bring me into contact with Bill. After our station was officially bought out by Renda Broadcasting, they wanted to move the studios into one location. I say studios because along with us at 1360 AM, they alos owned at the time 1320 AM and 99.7 FM. Who should be on the air afternoons (10am - 2pm) on 1320 AM but Bill Cardille. From the first day I met him, Bill was nothing but gracious towards me, who cares that his experience level versus mine in media was enormous. But back in those days it was easy to wander the halls and be in awe of the people I worked with, Bill Cardille, Jack Bogut, Lynn Cullen and Doug Hoerth, all people who I heard or listened to growing up (hope that doesn't make them feel too old). In many ways it felt like playing with the '27 Yankees, here are these giants in media and me, who quit college to take a radio internship and I was now sharing space with them all.
I even got to work with Bill, as I was tasked with putting together his vacation shows. He and I would record liners for days he was going to be away, in hopes in didn't sound like he was away. It's a little magic called voice tracking kids, as long as we had the song list ahead of time, it is easy to get someone to front sell (the record coming up) or back sell (the record you just heard) or throw in a quick anecdote or two (time permitting of course, we are on a clock after all) and the finished product would sound like Bill had never left the building. Sitting in the production studio, i got the chance to pick Bill's brain between him running back to the on air studio and out voice tracking endeavor.
A couple of times when I was producing for Doug Hoerth we would have Bill in as a guest, usually it involved one of Bill's closest friends as well, Bruno Sammartino. Funny thing about Bruno and Bill, both men looked better than men half their age, certainly better than yours truly, but that is why I am behind a keyboard as opposed in front of a camera.
I had seen a couple of weeks ago Bill went into the hospital, he had gotten a cancer diagnosis (liver), but through all of the medical maladies Bill went through over the years, it felt like more of a bump in the road, having lost a kidney at 18, beaten back colon cancer and surviving open heart surgery in the past. There were requests for cards and letters, and by all means continue to send them if you can, no need for my blog to be a listening of everyone's remembrances of Bill, because I doubt he knows this page exists (or remembers me for that matter) and there are far better means to reach him, such as through his daughter on Facebook, she has already posted where cards can be sent to though to save you the trouble here you go; Chilly Billy, c/o Century Communications 313 East Carson Street , Pgh. Pa, 15219.
The above was taken from Lori Cardille's Facebook feed, because this is one of those posts I hate to write. I never know what words to put together when dealing with a person, or in this case, a city's loss and if Bill Cardille is on what amounts to borrowed time at this point, then the city of Pittsburgh is suffering a loss. I don't know many people in my age bracket or older who do not have fond memories of Bill Cardille, whether it be his work on studio wresting back in the day, his show "Chiller Theater" which showed a bunch of B list horror flicks that were more funny than scary (http://www.chillertheatermemories.com, his cameo in "Night of the Living Dead", his local run on the MDA telethon where he would host the local cutaways during labor Day weekend, his time doing the weather on Channel 11 or listening to his show on the radio, pretty much anyone who is anyone around these parts has at least one Bill Cardille memory to share.
My first memories of him were mostly with the Chiller Theater, trying to sneak up past my bedtime to catch a minute or three of it (Chiller Theater was popular enough to preempt Saturday Night Live in Pittsburgh back in those days) and if I was lucky enough and didn't get caught by a parental unit, I would catch at least part of the show, before my eyes would start to sag and I would fall asleep.
Funny thing though as luck would have it, my radio career would bring me into contact with Bill. After our station was officially bought out by Renda Broadcasting, they wanted to move the studios into one location. I say studios because along with us at 1360 AM, they alos owned at the time 1320 AM and 99.7 FM. Who should be on the air afternoons (10am - 2pm) on 1320 AM but Bill Cardille. From the first day I met him, Bill was nothing but gracious towards me, who cares that his experience level versus mine in media was enormous. But back in those days it was easy to wander the halls and be in awe of the people I worked with, Bill Cardille, Jack Bogut, Lynn Cullen and Doug Hoerth, all people who I heard or listened to growing up (hope that doesn't make them feel too old). In many ways it felt like playing with the '27 Yankees, here are these giants in media and me, who quit college to take a radio internship and I was now sharing space with them all.
I even got to work with Bill, as I was tasked with putting together his vacation shows. He and I would record liners for days he was going to be away, in hopes in didn't sound like he was away. It's a little magic called voice tracking kids, as long as we had the song list ahead of time, it is easy to get someone to front sell (the record coming up) or back sell (the record you just heard) or throw in a quick anecdote or two (time permitting of course, we are on a clock after all) and the finished product would sound like Bill had never left the building. Sitting in the production studio, i got the chance to pick Bill's brain between him running back to the on air studio and out voice tracking endeavor.
A couple of times when I was producing for Doug Hoerth we would have Bill in as a guest, usually it involved one of Bill's closest friends as well, Bruno Sammartino. Funny thing about Bruno and Bill, both men looked better than men half their age, certainly better than yours truly, but that is why I am behind a keyboard as opposed in front of a camera.
I had seen a couple of weeks ago Bill went into the hospital, he had gotten a cancer diagnosis (liver), but through all of the medical maladies Bill went through over the years, it felt like more of a bump in the road, having lost a kidney at 18, beaten back colon cancer and surviving open heart surgery in the past. There were requests for cards and letters, and by all means continue to send them if you can, no need for my blog to be a listening of everyone's remembrances of Bill, because I doubt he knows this page exists (or remembers me for that matter) and there are far better means to reach him, such as through his daughter on Facebook, she has already posted where cards can be sent to though to save you the trouble here you go; Chilly Billy, c/o Century Communications 313 East Carson Street , Pgh. Pa, 15219.
Monday, July 18, 2016
B365V3.40 - Good thing I wasn't chewing gum
So Friday after work I came up with what I thought was a splendid idea, i was on point most of the day and looking to get out at a decent time, so perhaps I would head over Greenfield way and visit my friend Rich. It had been a couple of years since I had been over there, but i know Rich to be a creature of habit, he normally stops at his local watering hole on the way home for a beer or two, my plan would be to meet him at the bar, since i had an extra shekel or two and then see where the day takes me.
I het to his bar before 4, i get a Yuengling, and proceed to not make a spectacle of myself, just sitting there playing on my tablet while some of what i presume are regulars are yakking it up at the bar. Some people leave, others come in including a guy named Colin. He and I struck up an interesting conversation ti say the least, when Colin gets ready to leave he asked if i had been there before, to which i said yes, just waiting on my friend Rich to arrive. Colin and the bartender both say that Rich only works Monday thru Thursday, he isn't there on Fridays. So my plans were not coming to fruition after all. But since i know where Rich lives, i figure i will just head over to his place. The next bartender came in and i realized i am now the only guy in the bar, so i felt it my moral obligation to stick around for one beer, in case no one else came in. I have another beer, by now it is after 8 and i realize i have put in a solid 4 hours drinking, all beers and a shot (with Colin) and i better stop myself if i am still going to be functional in public.
So i head back to Rich's place, see his wife Cindy and his daughter Jessica but no Rich. Turns out he did work on Friday after all and was just getting off at 8, so back to the bar i go to meet him. We probably drank for a couple of hours, bringing my solid drinking time to 6 hours or so before walking back to his place and calling it a night, where we sat around and bs ed some more, talking about our respective computers and shit we do on them. I think i lost my coolness factor when i mentioned i don't even play Diablo anymore (I beat Diablo I ( who didn't though) and Diablo 2 before they started coming out with all kinds of crazy patches to make it more difficult). Diablo 3 i was geeked for playing until it took Blizzard a damn decade to develop the game. I bought it and played it a few times but in the back of my mind i was always like, i waited 10 years for this?
Anyway we chat for a bit then i have to head home, he has to get his wife ready for a trip to the hospital in the morning (lots of transplant and dialysis issues there, but that isn't my story to tell) so i headed out to the bus stop across the street, hoping to catch a 58 that would get me to Oakland, where i needed to be or downtown, where i could transfer buses to get to where i needed to be. That was when the alcohol started hitting me, i stood at the bus stop for maybe 5 minutes before i got tired of waiting, so i started walking down Greenfield Avenue, figuring my odds at catching any bus would be better along 2nd Avenue than where i was. I make it to the bottom of the hill, passing one road that would have been the back way into Oakland, but in my drunken reasoning that road went up hill and i was being too drunk and lazy to climb hills, who cares that my drunken route downtown would add probably 2 miles to my walk if i didn't see a bus.
I get further down 2nd Avenue, where there is a ramp up to the Eliza Furnace Trail, a pedestrian trail that runs parallel to 2nd Avenue all the way into town. I decide i will take the trail, so i go up the little ramp type thing connecting the trail to the sidewalk. Once on the trail i decide i better make sure i am on the far right side, the weather was nice and i didn't want to be run down by anyone on their bicycle late at night, or anyone out doing any late night Pokemoning. I start down the trail, when my foot slides off of the side of the pavement and into gravel. My drunken cat like reflexes kept me from falling but i made myself a mental note to be more careful. That lasted about 20 feet or so before i did the same thing again. Funny thing when you fall down, there is that brief moment in time where you realize there is no saving yourself, you are going to eat dirt and like it. And sure enough i did, my right leg breaking most of the fall, my tablet went flying, as did my backpack (with jetpack and laptop in it), my glasses clanked to the ground and i popped one of the lenses out. My inner common sense had to fight my drunkenness at this point, because if drunk Matt would have won i would have just laid down right there and called it a night. Instead i managed to get my disheveled self back together, including fixing my glasses and decided maybe climbing a hill and cutting significant time from my walking wasn't such a bad idea after all.
I made it home, my knee was bleeding but i wasn't feeling much pain, we would save that for the following morning, where it took 5 attempts to get my shoe on over my ankle. And now you see why i don't stray far from home with my drinking.
I het to his bar before 4, i get a Yuengling, and proceed to not make a spectacle of myself, just sitting there playing on my tablet while some of what i presume are regulars are yakking it up at the bar. Some people leave, others come in including a guy named Colin. He and I struck up an interesting conversation ti say the least, when Colin gets ready to leave he asked if i had been there before, to which i said yes, just waiting on my friend Rich to arrive. Colin and the bartender both say that Rich only works Monday thru Thursday, he isn't there on Fridays. So my plans were not coming to fruition after all. But since i know where Rich lives, i figure i will just head over to his place. The next bartender came in and i realized i am now the only guy in the bar, so i felt it my moral obligation to stick around for one beer, in case no one else came in. I have another beer, by now it is after 8 and i realize i have put in a solid 4 hours drinking, all beers and a shot (with Colin) and i better stop myself if i am still going to be functional in public.
So i head back to Rich's place, see his wife Cindy and his daughter Jessica but no Rich. Turns out he did work on Friday after all and was just getting off at 8, so back to the bar i go to meet him. We probably drank for a couple of hours, bringing my solid drinking time to 6 hours or so before walking back to his place and calling it a night, where we sat around and bs ed some more, talking about our respective computers and shit we do on them. I think i lost my coolness factor when i mentioned i don't even play Diablo anymore (I beat Diablo I ( who didn't though) and Diablo 2 before they started coming out with all kinds of crazy patches to make it more difficult). Diablo 3 i was geeked for playing until it took Blizzard a damn decade to develop the game. I bought it and played it a few times but in the back of my mind i was always like, i waited 10 years for this?
Anyway we chat for a bit then i have to head home, he has to get his wife ready for a trip to the hospital in the morning (lots of transplant and dialysis issues there, but that isn't my story to tell) so i headed out to the bus stop across the street, hoping to catch a 58 that would get me to Oakland, where i needed to be or downtown, where i could transfer buses to get to where i needed to be. That was when the alcohol started hitting me, i stood at the bus stop for maybe 5 minutes before i got tired of waiting, so i started walking down Greenfield Avenue, figuring my odds at catching any bus would be better along 2nd Avenue than where i was. I make it to the bottom of the hill, passing one road that would have been the back way into Oakland, but in my drunken reasoning that road went up hill and i was being too drunk and lazy to climb hills, who cares that my drunken route downtown would add probably 2 miles to my walk if i didn't see a bus.
I get further down 2nd Avenue, where there is a ramp up to the Eliza Furnace Trail, a pedestrian trail that runs parallel to 2nd Avenue all the way into town. I decide i will take the trail, so i go up the little ramp type thing connecting the trail to the sidewalk. Once on the trail i decide i better make sure i am on the far right side, the weather was nice and i didn't want to be run down by anyone on their bicycle late at night, or anyone out doing any late night Pokemoning. I start down the trail, when my foot slides off of the side of the pavement and into gravel. My drunken cat like reflexes kept me from falling but i made myself a mental note to be more careful. That lasted about 20 feet or so before i did the same thing again. Funny thing when you fall down, there is that brief moment in time where you realize there is no saving yourself, you are going to eat dirt and like it. And sure enough i did, my right leg breaking most of the fall, my tablet went flying, as did my backpack (with jetpack and laptop in it), my glasses clanked to the ground and i popped one of the lenses out. My inner common sense had to fight my drunkenness at this point, because if drunk Matt would have won i would have just laid down right there and called it a night. Instead i managed to get my disheveled self back together, including fixing my glasses and decided maybe climbing a hill and cutting significant time from my walking wasn't such a bad idea after all.
I made it home, my knee was bleeding but i wasn't feeling much pain, we would save that for the following morning, where it took 5 attempts to get my shoe on over my ankle. And now you see why i don't stray far from home with my drinking.
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