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.