Block stump(ed) stupid.
Wednesday, June 26, 2002
[homecomings are a bitch]
This is just a quick note to thank you for your interest in a position with CNET
Networks Inc. I wanted to personally acknowledge the receipt of your resume. Due
to the volume of resumes we receive we only be in touch again if we are
interested in scheduling an interview. I sincerely hope that is the case and that
you and I have a chance to speak soon
Sean Lally
Executive Director, Corporate Recruiting
CNET Networks inc
Uh...dickweed, i used to *work* there!
[bootylicious]
I went to a friends wedding this weekend. It was down on the coast. what i did not realize
was that i was to take that literally.
So the wedding is three hours away, which means i get up early to go on Saturday morning.
not my favorite activity on Saturday mornings...getting up. but i manage, and i dig my suit
out of the closet, and scrape together a shirt forgoing a tie altogether. i throw some stuff
in a bag: toothbrush, shorts, who knows?
Plus i don't shower, so a clean up on the way is ideal. and i don't dress cause who wants
to spend six hours in a car in a suit?
Drive through hot-ass california and stop about half way, no farther than that, and brush teeth
and get some water and stuff. have sunglasses.
As i enter the gas station i notice the girl behind the cash register, cute latina. "Bootylicious"
is airbrushed like fruity candy across the front of her shirt. how can you pass this up?
I spend some luxury time in the unlux facilites, then pick up some water and cold beer
for the second half of the journey. put the goods on the corner and ask "it is true you can't
believe everything you read?" and then look over the tops of my sunglasses, at her t-shirt.
[closed for repair]
It took a while for them to open up the bathroom again. it was closed for several
days "for repairs."
No one seems to know what happened.
So i saw those legs from under the stall door again. i had the same impulse as
before. then i remembered what Beck said.
So i just decided to go in and sit and think for a while.
While there I heard what sounds like water dripping. immediately i start to panic and
fight to regulate my breathing.
After gaining control of myself i start to look around to see where the "water" is dripping
from.
It actually took me a while to look at the floor of my neighbor, but sure enough, there was
the puddle. it was slowly growing into a larger spot threatening the position of his shoes.
I looked to see where this was coming from...dear god it was the toilet!
I realized then that the toilet was not actually leaking, or i would have heard it when i first
got there.
I think the guy was (somehow) actually peeing down the side of the can, and it was running
down and puddling at his feet. i couldn't tell if he noticed the puddle (i was not really in a
postion to say anything, seated as i was)...were his leggs straddling the puddle, or just
stretching out to avoid it? i became very depressed and sad at being a human man.
Bathrooms no longer bring joy.
AND THEY EXPECT ME TO BE HAPPY HERE?
[Beck says]
that we all have fantasies about grabbing peoples feet/leggs/ankles while they are on the toilet (see below), that the main difference is that "sane" people don't actually do these things.
Well, what she actually said is that "sane" people "don't tell anyone" these fantasies.
So much for the website.
Friday, June 21, 2002
[i am jack's theiving identity]
| Welcome to Yahoo! fallufius
|
|
Thursday, June 20, 2002
[public toilets are fun?]
I just got up from a *very busy* day of work, to find relief in the mens restroom. it's not as vulgar as it sounds.
I have to admit though, when i made the approach to the urinal, and saw those feet from under the wall of the "stall"...i just got this insane urge to reach down there, grab the belt, or pants or whatever and just start pulling with all of my might.
Can you even imagine the look on my poor coworkers face? sitting quietly on the toilet one moment, and then the next being attacked by some deranged lunatic, trying...to do what, god only knows?
I think it would be a true moment of freedom for all of us.
Well, the bright side is that i resisted these urges...most of them. the one i could not refuse was the sink.
There are two sinks in this mens room. sitting side by side on the most deluxe chromium counter you have ever seen. ol' lefty as we like to call him had a sign taped up that very clearly says "DON'T USE!"
And well, the reason for this is pretty obvious. these sinks kind of look like standard kitchen sinks, and have a swiveling spout. thing is, lefty's spout is completely unscrewed and lying in the bottom of the sink like a broken arm.
Which leaves only the spout...sticking straight up into the air. i know this probably seems obvious by now, but the thought occurs to me, "i wonder if they were stupid enough to leave the water on ol' lefty."
sufficiently distracted from attacking the guy in the stall, i march over and grab both of lefty's on-off levers in each hand. one hot, one cold, you pull 'em down and you are off!
which of course i do.
Man I have never seen water shoot out like that out from anything not outside, like a hose or firehydrant or something. water is shooting up literally over my head, and hitting the mirror on the wall behind the sink. it's not shooting "straight" up like a hose, but more a "current vortex" like a tornado, or hurricane, some weird spiral spray i have never experienced before. lucky it did not hit me directly...which was really meaningless ultimately.
Being a good employee with a positve attitude, i attempted to return the two levers to their upright position. this, however did nothing to stop the verticle torrent in front of me.
Nearly covered in water, i took a step back to analyze my situation.
I looked over and realized that the water was beginning to reach the feet of the guy on the toilet. this provided to be the final straw. my work here was done. maybe permanently.
I left the restroom, walked quietly and quickly over to my desk, sat down and put on my sweater.
While smiling sheepishly at Jimmy, I realized that i still had to take a piss.
[dr peepers]
Fallufius: i mean...is it still spraying?
Fallufius: and don't you think the guy in the stall probably saw you?
Fallufius: coz whenever i'm on the pot i can see out no sweat
nicka: what?
nicka: you are looking *out* when you're on the crapper?
nicka: what, do you talk to people too?
nicka: "Hey, rob, it's me, Fallufius! How you doin?"
Fallufius: no
Fallufius: but there's like an inch of space between the door and the door frame
Fallufius: and it's easy enough to peer out
nicka: and *in* i would guess huh, Mr. Fallufius?
Fallufius: if i suddenly heard a great swooosh of water, damn straight i'd be looking out
Fallufius: well no, on the in thing
Fallufius: but enough of this
nicka: well i'd rather attack toilet dwellers than be some fuckin pepper, man.
Fallufius: pepper?
nicka: err: peeper
nicka: LMAO
nicka: I'm a PEEPER, You're a PEEPER
Fallufius: you peppering tom
Fallufius: lmao
Fallufius: dr peeper...creepy
[jezebel]
I went outside for a cigarette.
Something i don't do anymore. but that's beside the point. the point is that standing outside the corporate structure can be a frightening place. people walk out of the building but they don't leave that structure. they smile alot ('cause they been *practising*), they don't make waves, or if so, in whispers. you want a circus freak?
Speaking of which. the great galvini has put something up that bears witness. if that boy don't get his stuff published somewhere, i swear on Jimmy's mother's grave that i will feed his brain to the dogs; where at least we know it will finally do some kind of good. yeah, so much for the motivational speaker career move.
Wednesday, June 19, 2002
[confessions]
I think i have some kind of obsessive compulsive disorder.
this, at least is the feedback i have gotten throughout my life. comments like "if you would just put that to good use...!" well, dad, keep reading. the army grows.
I have a compulsion with motorcycles.
I shop for them, i work on them, i ride them, i love them.
just today i see this on our friend and neighbor www.craigslist.com:
|
1969 Honda Dream |
|
This motorcycle is in very good shape. It needs a new motor or the old one repaired. |
Well, i think that some things need no comment.
But other things definitely do, and that is, after all, why we are here.
We are all waiting for the old boss man to walk in and start shooting everyone. yes, he is that kind of person. and since i am obsessing on Fight Club lately...I'll let you read what we all both secretly hope, and fear:
|
"I'd be very careful who I talked to about this, cos whoever wrote this is dangerous, and this buttoned down, oxford-cloth psycho could just snap at any moment and stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-180 carbine gas-operated semiautomatic pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers. This might be someone you know. Someone very, very close to you." |
As it turned out...today there was this really loud noise; the kind of noise you cannot readily identify. it is amazing how many sounds you can actually recognize. i guess the word stems: "to know again." so you can *know* what a filing cabinet slamming shut sounds like. you have heard it before. a door slamming, heavy books falling down on a desk, or computer monitor. even the sick slap of human flesh meeting pavement. these are recognizable sounds.
And so when you hear a loud noise, an unkown sound. you look at your neighbor and you assume the worst.
|
Jimmy: Jesus! I thought for a minute that was [old boss man] coming back to "pay his respects!" Me: No kidding, I thought the same thing! I can see it right now! |
And then i quote the line to him from memory. the line from Fight Club that i just posted above.
|
Jimmy: (Eyes wide, browse furled) What the fuck is wrong with you, son? Me: nothing. Jimmy: You should'na say that kinda shit. Me: Well, it's from a movie. Jimmy: I don't give a god damned, now! You call that shit entertainment? Won't be so god damned funny when psycho billy-bob, here comes a-callin'! (that's the old boss man.) Me: Yeah, I guess you are right. Good thing they emailed us the security guard's cell phone number. Jimmy: You really ain't that bright are you, college boy? Me: Well... Jimmy: Well? Well, what you suppose they pay that ol' boy? ten, Leven dollas an 'our? Me: yeah, maybe. Jimmy: Well do you think for even a second...some psycho fuck-head comes in here, starts shootin'...you think that muthafuckers runnin' in *here*. Me: Jimmy: Hell no! I'll tell you what. There's only a coupla places that old dog is gonna be seen runnin'. Runnin' out for lunch, runnin' to get paid, and *maybe* runnin' to the toilet. But that decrepit son of a bitch will definitely *not* be runnin' into a dangerous situation. Me: Jimmy: Gawd damn boy. You gotta *think*. |
[an (un)fortunate turn of events]
A friend of mine has...recently...sent me...(god, how do i say this?)
Has sent me pictures of their girlfriend.
Naked pictures.
How does this happen? this must surely be an Internet thing. no one *ever* sent me naked pictures of their girlfriend before. show me? okay *maybe* but *sent* them? never!
and now, here there are, in all their digital glory. now when we talk about her all i have to do is to pull up the full page, color, glossy prints...and i no longer have to imagine what she looks like. and jesus *imagine*. imagine if that was you for a second. maybe it is you. how do you feel? how do i feel?
how do you feel reading this? CLOSE YOUR EYES!
oh fukit. we are all naked all the time. we should show off more. we should be proud. we should be proud that some person thinks we are sexy enough to share our images in public. we should do this with everyone we know. take naked pictures of friends and family!
Hell, send me your photos of naked loved ones right now, and i'll put them up here for all of us to appreciate and love!
nicka: hey did you know that my great grand mother could crush a walnut in one hand?
JG: um, no
JG: but i'm duly impressed
nicka: well, you should try it sometime....it's like a golf ball.
nicka: austrian anger, man.
JG: i have tried it, actually...have done it a couple times
nicka: well, *that's* not going in the blog.
JG: lol
JG: no
JG: guess it wouldn't
JG: i'll be flattered if i make your blog early on
[how's that working out for ya?]
Well, i've been sitting here for 30 minutes trying to remember what i was going to say. how pathetic. i had a thought in my head from the moment i woke up and now i can't come up with it?
Why do i mention waking up all the time? it's because it is the single most traumatic event of my day. somtimes that is good, sometimes that is bad, comparatively.
Today i woke up slowly, with the low level rage. it named itself for me. that's why i put it in bold. it is the invisible force that propels me through this life. that thing that makes me hillarious, the thing that gets me out of bed in the morning, the thing that makes me plot evil against my neighbors. it is in all of us.
you can see it everywhere. look at how people drive. they are angry. it would take only a nudge to push them over the edge.
That's why i've decided to build an army.
[following section deleted for security reasons]
Because you can't be too careful these days. remember our good friends in the Michigan Militia? well, some us actually *had* friends there you know.
| defending liberty
|
|
...stands firmly on the side of God and Country. We hold that every citizen has a duty to defend his/her self, family, community, and State from any threat that may arise. Organized along county lines, the MMCW offers many opportunities for you to become involved in the continuing struggle against tyranny. |
well, if you consider Bush's war, and general war-mongering and assasination bent "daddy's war is my war" attitude, and [insert your personal-low-level-rage-quotient(tm) here]. you start to interpret the "Michigan Militia Wolverines" statement in a new way...one that can be very useful.
especially when building an army.
Momma wanted me to be a preacher. truth is i would rather be Tony Robbins, gland problems and all; instead i grow up, experience my personal-low-level-rage-quotient(tm), build an army, blow shit up...go to jail and/or die.
Sorry mom.
Tuesday, June 18, 2002
[Disputes my ass]
I'll give you a godamned dispute:
"What's the difference between a Redneck and a Hillbilly?"
Me: The difference is that Rednecks can work white collar jobs and Hillbillys cannot.
Jimmy: Hey, that's not true (in his southern drawl)! Look at Jethro Bodine.
[in case you don't know who the fuck that is, it's the guy from the "Beverly Hillbillies"]
Me: Wha?
Jimmy: Yeah, in the movie he worked at the bank. Don't you remember?
Me: the *movie*?
Jimmy: He and Ellie Mae used to commute in that old car, down to the bank.
Me: You're kidding.
Does anyone remember this movie? would you admit it if you did?
that's what i thought.
But see, that Jimmy. that's how he is, you know. I was just thinking about him, and this god-forsaken thing that i am doing here.
Did you know i changed his name? now why would i do that when i won't even protect my own identy, or hell, the identity of people that actually get abused?
Well, i don't have an answer, but if one comes i'll let you know. i promise.
Working with Jimmy has been a real good experience. it's nice to sit next to someone who has very limited knowledge of the Internet, IRC/Chat, the web, social politics, and discrimination issues...not to mention what we actually *do* there. in a word, it's a hoot.
Literally riotous entertainment. but i'll tell you more about that later.
Monday, June 17, 2002
As my momma always used to say, "Never ignore the screaming."
Well, i did and now the car has marks to show for it.
Amazed at what the mind can do, tune things out, ignore, replace, retry. makes me think that Denial and Fantasy are as real as Good and Evil, lurking about this world.
The dream this time was of the "First Day of School." sounds like one of those scarey anxiety dreams, but it wasn't. it was college.
i could not find my classroom, even though i had this weird blueprint looking map with distinct numbers on it: three "1"s for 'potential' classes that met at that time, meaning the first class of the day.
of course the buildings were insane and confusing and we all just seemed to be wandering around, more enjoying the social hour than anything. which level? fuck it.
girl comes up all glad to see me. like we know each other. just stands in front of me...big grin.
I say uh..."Hi." she says hi, like she is completely comfortable with this bizarre encounter and the silence it contains.
didn't know each other, she was just happy to see/meet/whatever me. which brings me to rule number one:
Only like people that obviously like you.
I used to have a bunch of rules like this, but everyone gets fucked up repeatedly over rule number one. and if you can't get past that, what's the point of even *having* a rule number 2?
so i think i started drinking again.
i helped my neighbor move, which yes. is as fun as it sounds.
then i got the nomination to return the U-haul (tm). which is always a mistake. you know that as soon as you get behind the wheel of one of those ghetto trucks, your life takes an unexpect turn for the worse.
traffic, on an otherwise quiet day gets suddenly insane, they break down, they attempt to commit suicide and leave their crappy lives by driving themselves into things. and if you think i'm kidding, take a look at all of the DO NOT warning stickers on the insides of those things.
i have heard tales of whole fleets of U-haul trucks driving themselves into the ocean...with their passengers safely seatbelted inside. like a pack of orange and chrome lemmings: the Gentle ride suspension, and the lowest deck height in the business, taken in by the sea in a matter of minutes, later to form a reef and be home to thousands of sea creatures.
news flash
Just heard back from beck.
I told her of my (sort of) plan to drop out of this thing and go live in a van.
if i lived in a fan, would you still be my friend?
do chics think that guys who live in fans are inherently
creepy?
Her response:
Van dwellers = "transient," "rapist" "serial killer".
Well, there goes that idea.
[New Entry]
Well, they just fired the Big Nazi boss man.
Unbelievable. I guess if you complain about something long enough, and hard enough, you get results.
Let that be a less on to the mightly George W. Bush Jr..
[forgotten]
Did I mention that while at the U-haul place there was this guy there with a t-shirt that read:
bros before hos
i don't even think i will say anything about that.
Friday, June 14, 2002
I slipped out of a bad dream this morning and into a headache.
so disoriented it took me an hour to realize that i needed some kind of pain killer...and coffee, which i don't have cause i gave that shit up. and cigarrettes which i refused.
gross.
ended up at work...have this vague memory of someone in the car with me. screaming something.
don't remember. i should check out the car.
so at work and barely start waking up when "Jimmy the redneck" my office mate starts in with me.
Jimmy is from the Carolinas. He says the "East Coast" but he ain't foolin' nobody.
brother is from the South, the one that is going to "rise again". I always have a "meeting" when he starts with that stuff.
Jimmy starts today with: Did i ever tell you about Willy?
jesus, does anyone even want to know where this one is going? It's like you are at the top of a hill, and you are looking down. and you realize that you are on a ride, about to start, and you know where this all leads: Downhill. and there is nothing you can do, cause you are too hungover to remember that you have a "meeting" and you gave up coffee like and idiot and so you just sit there mouth open, slack-jawed, fasten your mental safety belt and wait for the ride to start.
I can't remember the beginning of the story, but somehow, Willy, our hero, is outside the school talking about how is going to get some "Scrange."
At this point in the story my consciousness rears it's ugly head and I say, "what?" with emphasis on WTF? or "what the hell is that?"
Jimmy says: "Scrange" is just how he pronounces it.
I of course still don't know what the hell is going on, and have no clue as to what "it" might even be.
But Jimmy, being courteous, explains it to me.
"Scrange" is how he pronounces it.
Blank look.
Jimmy: Willy had an afro. and was from the south.
Blank look.
Jimmy: (leans in for a 'whisper voice') Willy was *black* and *southern* that's how these guys *talk*.
At this point nothing makes sense and I just start laughing like I was about to die.
I figure, fuck it, i must already be dead and this is the last hillarious thing that is going to happen to me. go with it.
so the story goes on. Willy was, evidently a gem of a human being. Jimmy said that on the playground Willy would pull out his "member" and say "watch this." then go over to some unsuspecting kid on the playground and stick said member in the kids ear.
which i guess freaked out the kids. but Willy, being the organized person that he was, would follow up by saying "look, you white cracker. you say anything to anyone and i'll kill ya."
He is probably in management now.
So that's my day so far. now i gotta go and make the toys for the kids.
oh, I am writing a letter to mikeg. stay tuned.
[time passes]
So the letter should be up on mikeg's thing soon. Hopefully we can get some results.
I have lost my mind. IM
Thursday, June 13, 2002
Since mike has been so lame at updating his blog (mikeg.blogspot.com) I have decided to create my own;
Just to have a place to crucify my friends and whatnot publicly and punish the world with my atrocious spelling and grammer.
just to be clear: there are lies on this page. can you find them all?
I have decided that instead of any real content i would just publish some Gems of IM entertainment.
Some names have been changed...so you don't know who they are.
[time passes]
So i bailed on that stupid idea. took way too much time. here's a quick run down:
Talked to mikeg about "Fight Club". That was kinda boring, so i won't put it up here. well, except for the part where mikeg's girlfriend...well i shouldn't get into all that. but here's a bit where he talks about robbing his company:
falluper : ha
falluper : i'm balancing budgets today
falluper : yee hah
falluper : so much fun i can't even tell ya
allthefreakingusernamesaretaken : SKIM!
falluper : man, if i wanted to and was smart enough, i could embezzle thousands of dollars
falluper : luckily i'm neither
allthefreakingusernamesaretaken : you could just take some and go gambling....that way when you win, you can pay it back!
falluper : now that's thinking!
allthefreakingusernamesaretaken : there's a movie in that.
falluper : hmmm...maybe i better do some "research" for this movie
allthefreakingusernamesaretaken : LOL
allthefreakingusernamesaretaken : funny stuff.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
then there's bob.
bob the so called hockey fan and friend has bailed on every Wings game except one.
Maybe the triple overtime was too much for him to handle.
but bob pretends to lead a full life, and so we try not to bum his mellow. we let it slide.
Luckily there is Beque, or Beck, or Becky or Rebecca. So many of my friends have identity issues....Anyway Beck is a true sport, being from Detroit and all. I don't think that she is really much of a hockey fan, but she definitely is tenacious.
maybe that's just the booze.
