Gentile Reader,
First and foremost I would like for you to understand that copious amounts of alcohol and me generally mix quite well, the end result being series of legendary, almost epic events. Secondly I would like for you to know, that deep down inside I am rather geeky, and explain things in a sometimes strange fashion. The following events will make more sense, if taken in context. I love animals, I have quite a few different type of pets, when I geek out on something, and start talking about it I sound somewhat like a narrator for a BBC film about African wildlife. When I get to the ‘almost passed out drunk’ (to be substituted with ‘passed out but still lucid drunk’ apparently) I go into a strange teaching mode, likening human behavior to that of animals, shit you will see if you read on. Now, onto the good parts.
Meet The Blasian: Blasian will not be identified further, it should be noted she is the smartest woman that I have ever dated, she’s half black and half Korean, and completely hilarious, she has a masters degree, and puts up with my antics when most women would run away. I have no idea why she puts up with the crazy shit I do, perhaps she finds it endearing, where as sometimes I find myself odd. She gets 5 stars for putting up with the events of Saturday. The Blasian is best described as Korean in appearance with African American skin, and black hair, general body build is that of a Korean, seriously it looks as if god took a Korean woman and painted them black. She’s darn cute. Blasian is also built thick although not ‘heavy’ or ‘fat’, a different change of pace for me. Something else about Blasian that should be noted, all her friends are really smart, she has a taste for the upper class society in life, what the hell she is doing dating Sarge, I have no idea. I have teased you plenty Gentile Reader, its time to get down to the strangeness of Saturday.
So I arrived in L-land, early Saturday morning, but I didn’t do what I was supposed too Blasian said for me to call her as soon as I left my house, in O-Ville so she would have a couple hours to get ready…what ever that meant. I called her from less than 30 minutes outside of L-Land so that she would at least be awake when I arrived, and I also needed directions to her house. She did a bit of Korean style screeching something about “I KNEW you would do this to me, I just knew it...” blah blah blah I didn’t pay attention it was funny, you get the drift. So I showed up, we hugged, kissed, she made breakfast (kick ass, my god that woman can cook, Kudos Blasian, Kudos all the way) ((Wait? Did she make breakfast, that morning? Or was it Sunday? Shit…I can’t remember, I remember some Turkish food in there some where, I think that was lunch.)) One thing I enjoy doing when going to L-Land is visiting the exotic pet stores up there, and comparing them to the ones I have here, and also to my animal collection. My collection of animals was deemed to be roughly 10 times better than the pet stores we visited. I did however talk Blasian into feeding the crocodiles (actually, Morelet's Crocodile (Crocodylus moreletii) I do know my animals damn it) and talked the owner into letting her after convincing Blasian it would be a good idea. A small rat was selected and killed, then the crocodiles where fed. She handled it well, I was impressed.
If you notice there are slight gaps in the reasoning here, and the story is set in as linear a time line as I can string the events together, I got Tucker Max drunk later in the evening. It was shortly after lunch, (this is out second date, I should have mentioned it earlier, but this WHOLE event/weekend was our second date…) and we decided to go see the movie Cloverfield, OUTSTANDING MOVIE! Loved it I would love to own one of those spider/intergalactic tick animal thingies, but maybe a smaller sized one I could fit in a large glass terrarium and feed baby animals to…shiny rabbit (see explanation of Shiny Rabbit in another blog) after the movie, I don’t quite remember what went on, I think I started drinking, we rented some movies and watched them. Blasian is not a fan of SciFi nor, of horror flicks, I happen to live for them, mostly because well, I like to think about what I would do in that situation, and it gives me fond flash backs to times when I was a real life action hero in the military. So we rented Dawn of the Dead, and Super Bad, I picked Dawn of the Dead because well, she needed to see a zombie flick as I have a mild fascination with them (easy to kill, lots of them, easy to tell good guys from bad guys…and there’s usually gratuitous sex involved in any zombie invasion, it’s a given.) I sat the whole time and geeked out on the explanation of the different genres of zombies, and there capabilities, and the theory behind the zombie virus/bacteria infection, re-animation blah blah blah, good highly scientific stuff. It made it less scary for her I guess, as she just sorta listened endearingly to me, and at some point (*insert memory gap here*) about 2/3rds the way through the movie (got distracted) the movie switched to Super Bad. Up until this point and throughout the movie Super Bad I had been decently sober and paying attention to shit. I remember grabbing the bottle of Absolute Vodka, and taking a massive pull, a good 4-6 oz guzzle and then placing the bottle down (I REALLY like Vodka) and stating in a triumphant voice “So uh, when are we going to go meet your friends?” I could tell already that this was going to be fun.
Gentile Reader, Sarge does not do well in a social situation unless he has a well defined role. So I asked her “So what’s my role in this shindig?” I then listened to explanations of her friend’s personalities, and so forth, and figured, that an aristocratic somewhat social butterfly appearance would be better to portray than say…a drunken ex-army guy always looking to be in the spotlight and damage his liver. We arrived at the party, I acted all impressively well groomed, and shiny and shit. The party Gentile Reader was a wine tasting, after choir party thingy. Alcohol, the lubricator of personalities and my dear friend was there in force, I think I impressed the hostess when, asked what wines I prefer I actually ordered one by name. I had a couple….dozen, maybe… glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon. Vodka+wine=perky as a freaking high school cheerleader on wine coolers. Being a good hostess, my glass was always full, I think that this was partially due to the fact that Blasian chick suddenly changed flavor choices on them and showed up with a white guy and they where curious to get me drunk enough to start talking. I didn’t let them down, I talked, but I was pleasant it wasn’t until some time after the party that things started to get strange and Sarge style.
We left the party, got back to the house, where I continued drinking, mixing 4-6oz of vodka in a tumbler with about 2oz of water and drinking the concoction in rapid succession. I remembered taking the door knob apart for the back door, it was broken, I put it back together in a little bit better fashion, I’m always surprised when people let drunk people attempt to fix something/build something in there house. I remember thinking that this was highly entertaining, at the same time being mildly confused about the internal workings of the simple door knob, it fascinated me for a good 20 minutes, and 3 drinks. (I would like to note that later I had to use a credit card to open the door, as the knob sticky-outy thingy would no longer retract and after a sever beating it worked marginally better than before I touched it.) Things where mildly digressing as I was quite drunk, in fact goofy, basically stupid irresponsible drunk at this time. The little alarm went off in my head, which tells me its time to find somewhere to sleep, because I was going to pass out in about 20 minutes. During this whole time I was amazing even myself with my wit and charm, I did notice while in the shower that as I sang renditions of Old Man River, and miscellaneous show tunes that the shower stall gave my voice a mechanical, metallic sound, this entertained me very much. I expressed my opinion of the acoustics of Blasian chicks shower; although I tried to sound well spoken I think it came out something more like, “duuudeeee, that’s sooo cool! The shower makes me sound like some sorta singering robot!” To this, random giggling sounds answered from the bedroom.
Let me take you back in time, some 5 minutes before I got into the shower. I realized at some point that I had lost my clothing, yes my clothes. I had brought some clothes to put on AFTER the shower, some like PJs and such, flannel pants and a wife beater type shirt. These items went missing. I looked for them everywhere, outside in my vehicle, under her bed, under the sofa, in my backpack, the gun cases, all over the damned place. The clothing had simply vanished. For a half crazed moment the thought ran through my mind that perhaps Blasian chick had intentionally hidden the clothing from me. For some reason this semi rational thought stuck as the most likely event. It was time to go casual naked.
Ok, back to the shower, so no shit there I was naked as the day I was born, I finished toweling off and dropped the towel where it lay, and no other piece of cloth was going to touch my skin until I was under the covers. I stuck my head out around the edge of the bathroom door and with a smile that looked something somewhat maniacal I said “are you readyyy?”
Gentile Reader, the following I have no recollection of, it was relayed to me by Blasian Chick on Sunday, so I will write it as one giant 5th person narrative I guess you could call it. I will unabashedly relay to you the events as they where told to me:
*giggling, followed by a look of absurdity that I didn’t remember any of the apparently kick ass lines I said last night, nor the strange things I said or did, when I asked her Sunday if she had a good nights sleep*
Blasian Chick: “But you said you always remember everything that happens when you’re drunk...”
Sarge: “Yeah, when I’m awake, and I think maybe the mixture of wine and vodka caused some sort of liver overload….from what I remember things where pretty strange”
Blasian Chick “You really don’t remember?”
Sarge “Oh god, what did I do?” *blushing* (I NEVER BLUSH I was worried…made me blush)
Blasian Chick: “honey….are you sure you don’t remember? You where sooo sweet last night…”
Sarge “this is starting to remind me of a movie, where this guy and his wife get into a huge fight and the last thing he remembers is having a couple drinks and then he wakes up and she’s like totally back in love with him and they are together again, he spends the rest of the movie trying to figure out what it is he did… and it worries me a bit…”
Blasian Chick: “You really want to know what all you did?”
Sarge, “Yes, but uh, if I did something weird, forget I did it, and next time record the touching, beautiful like stuff I say so I can use it again some day.”
Blasian Chick: “Ok well, uh…when you stuck your head around the edge of the shower I was all covering my eyes with the pillow...and then you came out, and told me “I aint shy, go ahead and look” at what point you sort of….there’s no better word to describe it, you frolicked about the room, stuck some poses, and then stumbled to the bed and crawled up under the covers..”
Sarge: “What the hell do you mean frolicked?”
*Blasian chick then stuck some poses and simulated the supposed frolicking, yes Gentile Reader based on her artistic interpretation I DID in fact frolic nakedly about the room.*
She then continued the story, apparently I had said some things that where quite interesting, some of them good, some of them rather odd, here are the highlights some of the one liners I apparently said.
“Go ahead touch it, *humping against her leg* Your not going to break it”
“My balls are heavy”
“You smell nice, pheromones…yumm…what do I smell like, describe it… no you’re not doing it right, smell like this, raise your upper lip it’s called Firthing”
“Metal oxide has many uses...” *scientific explanation here something to do with Thermite*
“Your much smarter than my ex”
“I think I’m an experiment for you, but I’m ok with that”
“I have chosen you as my mate, and I wish to breed with you”
*(WTF?! Is the only thing I can think of…notice she never told me what SHE said in response to any of that crap, maybe she just let me mumble, she did find it funny though, and evidently I purr when I’m drunk, passed out and making out with a woman…that might be useful later….purring can be sexy right?)*
Gentile reader, I am sure you get the drift I was apparently all over the place; however I was totally asleep this is a disturbing realization. I can hold a semi-lucid conversation when passed out. God only knows the true implementations of this discovery if it fell into the wrong hands.
Sarge: “So uh, what else did I say?”
Blasian “Well, that’s about it, you rolled over, snuggled up to me said ‘you suck’ and then fell asleep the next breath, I totally thought you where awake the whole time.”
Sarge: “Where my eyes closed?”
Blasian “Yeah, come to think of it they where”
Sarge: “dear god…”
Gentile Reader, I chose to omit some things in this story as they was more information than you needed to know, or it was to embarrassing to actually admit to…I love anonymity.
Eternally yours,
Sarge.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
The Apartment Food Chain
Gentile Reader,
Let me take a moment to bring you back to this summer, and tell you a touch about where I live without revealing too much. I choose to live in the Ghetto, and there are good reasons for this; I can have what ever animals I wish as long as the rent is paid on time (I always pay early), that and no one asks any questions despite construction sounds coming from my apartment at 0300. There is one tactic to Ghetto survival, if you can properly intimidate the populous around you; you are never freer than in the Ghetto. No one looks you in the eye, and as long as you act rather violent, and display yourself as larger than life you’re reasonably safe. I did this quite easily when I first moved in by sitting outside on the porch cleaning my hand gun, wearing a wife-beater while drinking a ’40 with a Dumerils Boa around my neck. I am the only white male in my apartment complex, intimidation of the drug dealers is a top priority; oh and I am friends with some of them, a strategic alliance. In the above display I combined a couple things that the racist African Americans in my apartment complex are scared of, guns, white people drinking, and snakes into one very open display. It worked like a charm, to reinforce there ideas about me I have been known to wear a snake around my shoulders while taking out the trash, or checking the mail. Now that the human part of the food chain is out of the way lets talk about the vermin that infest the apartments.
I keep snakes, lots of snakes and have many mouse traps set out to catch any stray rodents, so there’s not really any problem with the rodents in the apartments that are next to me or below me, further than that I have no idea. There is however a great nemesis that I attempted to defeat, and fought a glorious battle against this summer. Roaches, and not just the little Mexican kids that steal and destroy things in the apartment complex, I’m talking about the 6 legged type. There was a massive surge in the roach populations during this last summer, evident by the many droppings and seeing them everywhere a little roach could hide, having killed many females developing egg sacks, it was on. I tried traps for them, including honey in a bowl with slick sides (worked very well, like a tar pit for roaches.) I tried poison for a brief period but I was afraid one would ingest the poison and crawl its happy ass into one of my animal cages and be eaten therefore killing a bird, or gecko inadvertently. The idea struck me one day that I needed to use military tactics against the little bastards; I was going to build an army. I spent a couple days figuring out what sort of army it was that I needed, and did a little research online. Spiders would have worked very well, but there is no fucking way I am going to intentionally release massive amounts of spiders into my house. Sarge does NOT like spiders. I am more of a reptile person; I needed an animal that wasn’t going to crap everywhere, and could survive in a harsh house like environment, and perhaps even reproduce and populate indoors, free range style. I settled on the Mediterranean House Gecko. I had my army picked out, feral geckos.
Ahh yes Gentile Reader, that’s right a horde of the cute little geckos that hitchhiked there way to this part of Texas on trucks following the I-20, and I-10 corridor, from somewhere near Huston. They got to Huston via a ship coming from Africa, and set up shop in Texas quite happily, there population is some what dense but no one is complaining, sometimes I get animal rescue calls from people that find them in there house, but I let them know it’s a good thing.
I set about collecting a good amount of them, I visited a couple trash piles at an illegal dumping site across from a post office, I flipped boards, and soon had a nice sized Critter Keeper full of the magnificent little beasts. The war was on. On the drive home I gave a speech that would make Patton proud, and at the same time, perhaps even Hitler. I spoke about Eugenics to them, told them all the good little female geckos needed to do there best to find and mate with only the best roach killing males, and become a super race of mutant geckos. Gentile Reader, these are very small geckos, the largest one I have seen is 3 inches long, maybe a bit wider than a standard sized Sharpie, and dang near flat most are much smaller. They are also almost clear in appearance, and faster than lightning. I had my army; it was time for the roaches to die. After capturing a couple enemy combatants and subjecting them to a Thunder Dome death match in the Critter Keeper (I had to test the geckos roach munching ability) I found that the roaches where the perfect feeder size for the largest of the geckos, and the baby roaches where perfect for the smallest of my army. I strategically released the geckos in the kitchen, my bed room got 3 of them, the bathroom got 5 of them, the front room got 5, and the rest where set in random places on the walls, 22 geckos against an unimaginably large force of roaches. Visions of epic battles, resembling a cross between the movie Ants, and Lord of the Rings danced happily in my head.
Let me say Gentile Reader that I have yet to see more than 1 gecko per week to this day, if I am lucky. I leave a small bowl of water near the sink for them to drink from, and that is generally where I see one on a weekly basis, mostly late a night and only for a moment in the soft glow of the fridge door light. I will however say that the roaches appear to be losing; the Roach sightings have dropped from nearly 20 a day, to somewhere near 5 per month. God bless Mother Nature. If only I could properly train Zombies to eat the annoying human roaches in my apartment complex, but that’s another story, for another day.
Eternally yours,
Sarge.
Let me take a moment to bring you back to this summer, and tell you a touch about where I live without revealing too much. I choose to live in the Ghetto, and there are good reasons for this; I can have what ever animals I wish as long as the rent is paid on time (I always pay early), that and no one asks any questions despite construction sounds coming from my apartment at 0300. There is one tactic to Ghetto survival, if you can properly intimidate the populous around you; you are never freer than in the Ghetto. No one looks you in the eye, and as long as you act rather violent, and display yourself as larger than life you’re reasonably safe. I did this quite easily when I first moved in by sitting outside on the porch cleaning my hand gun, wearing a wife-beater while drinking a ’40 with a Dumerils Boa around my neck. I am the only white male in my apartment complex, intimidation of the drug dealers is a top priority; oh and I am friends with some of them, a strategic alliance. In the above display I combined a couple things that the racist African Americans in my apartment complex are scared of, guns, white people drinking, and snakes into one very open display. It worked like a charm, to reinforce there ideas about me I have been known to wear a snake around my shoulders while taking out the trash, or checking the mail. Now that the human part of the food chain is out of the way lets talk about the vermin that infest the apartments.
I keep snakes, lots of snakes and have many mouse traps set out to catch any stray rodents, so there’s not really any problem with the rodents in the apartments that are next to me or below me, further than that I have no idea. There is however a great nemesis that I attempted to defeat, and fought a glorious battle against this summer. Roaches, and not just the little Mexican kids that steal and destroy things in the apartment complex, I’m talking about the 6 legged type. There was a massive surge in the roach populations during this last summer, evident by the many droppings and seeing them everywhere a little roach could hide, having killed many females developing egg sacks, it was on. I tried traps for them, including honey in a bowl with slick sides (worked very well, like a tar pit for roaches.) I tried poison for a brief period but I was afraid one would ingest the poison and crawl its happy ass into one of my animal cages and be eaten therefore killing a bird, or gecko inadvertently. The idea struck me one day that I needed to use military tactics against the little bastards; I was going to build an army. I spent a couple days figuring out what sort of army it was that I needed, and did a little research online. Spiders would have worked very well, but there is no fucking way I am going to intentionally release massive amounts of spiders into my house. Sarge does NOT like spiders. I am more of a reptile person; I needed an animal that wasn’t going to crap everywhere, and could survive in a harsh house like environment, and perhaps even reproduce and populate indoors, free range style. I settled on the Mediterranean House Gecko. I had my army picked out, feral geckos.
Ahh yes Gentile Reader, that’s right a horde of the cute little geckos that hitchhiked there way to this part of Texas on trucks following the I-20, and I-10 corridor, from somewhere near Huston. They got to Huston via a ship coming from Africa, and set up shop in Texas quite happily, there population is some what dense but no one is complaining, sometimes I get animal rescue calls from people that find them in there house, but I let them know it’s a good thing.
I set about collecting a good amount of them, I visited a couple trash piles at an illegal dumping site across from a post office, I flipped boards, and soon had a nice sized Critter Keeper full of the magnificent little beasts. The war was on. On the drive home I gave a speech that would make Patton proud, and at the same time, perhaps even Hitler. I spoke about Eugenics to them, told them all the good little female geckos needed to do there best to find and mate with only the best roach killing males, and become a super race of mutant geckos. Gentile Reader, these are very small geckos, the largest one I have seen is 3 inches long, maybe a bit wider than a standard sized Sharpie, and dang near flat most are much smaller. They are also almost clear in appearance, and faster than lightning. I had my army; it was time for the roaches to die. After capturing a couple enemy combatants and subjecting them to a Thunder Dome death match in the Critter Keeper (I had to test the geckos roach munching ability) I found that the roaches where the perfect feeder size for the largest of the geckos, and the baby roaches where perfect for the smallest of my army. I strategically released the geckos in the kitchen, my bed room got 3 of them, the bathroom got 5 of them, the front room got 5, and the rest where set in random places on the walls, 22 geckos against an unimaginably large force of roaches. Visions of epic battles, resembling a cross between the movie Ants, and Lord of the Rings danced happily in my head.
Let me say Gentile Reader that I have yet to see more than 1 gecko per week to this day, if I am lucky. I leave a small bowl of water near the sink for them to drink from, and that is generally where I see one on a weekly basis, mostly late a night and only for a moment in the soft glow of the fridge door light. I will however say that the roaches appear to be losing; the Roach sightings have dropped from nearly 20 a day, to somewhere near 5 per month. God bless Mother Nature. If only I could properly train Zombies to eat the annoying human roaches in my apartment complex, but that’s another story, for another day.
Eternally yours,
Sarge.
Monday, January 14, 2008
My First Scammer!
My First Scammer!
OUTSTANDING,
Kind reader, I am proud to say that I have moved up in society enough that I have finally after a much anticipated wait and having signed up for EVERY SINGLE spam/scam list that sells your e-mail information that I could find, that I finally, with much anticipation have received my first verifiable SCAM LETTER! Here is that letter, and my response to the scammer.
FROM THE DESK OF MR.BELLO DANSUKI,
BILL AND EXCHANGE MANAGER,
BANK OF AFRICA (B.O.A) OUAGADOUGOU,
BURKINA-FASO WEST AFRICA.
My Mobile No+22678851258
MY ALTANETIVE E-MAIL(mr_bello13@yahoo.fr)
RE:TRANSFER OF ($18,500.000.00 USD)
(EIGHTEEN MILLION FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND UNITED STATES DOLLARS ).
Dear Friend,
I want to transfer to overseas ($18,500.000.00 USD) Eighteen Million Five Hundred Thousand United States Dollars) from the Bank of Africa,I want to ask you to quietly look for a reliable and honest person who will be capable and fit to provide either an existing bank account or to set up a new Bank a/c immediately to receive this money,even an empty a/c can serve to receive this funds quitely.
I am Bello Dansuki,the accountant personal confidant to Dr. Ravindra F. Shah who died together with his wife Dr.Mrs.Manjula Parikh-Shah in a plane crash on the 1st Oct.2003 on their way to attend wedding in Boston.
Mr.Ravindra F. Shah, is an American,a physician and industrialist,he died without having any beneficiary to his assets including his account here in Burkina Faso which he opened in a Bank of Africa in the year 2000 as his personal savings for the purpose of expansion and developement of his companybefore his untimely death in 2003.
The amount involved is (USD18,500,000.00) EIGHTEEN MILLION FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND UNITED STATES DOLLARS,no other person knows about this account, I am contacting you for us to transfer this funds to your account as the beneficiary,I am only contacting you as a foreigner because this money can not be approved to a local person here,without valid international foreign passport,but can only be approved to any foreigner with valid international passport or drivers license and foreign a/c because the money is in US Dollars and the former owner of the a/c Mr.Ravindra F. Shah is a foreigner too,and as such the money can only be approved into a foreign a/c.However,I am revealing this to you with believe in ALLAH that you will never let me down in this business, you are the first and the only person that I am contacting for this business, so please reply urgently so that I will inform you the next step to take urgently.
Send also your private telephone and fax number including the full details of the account to be used for the deposit.I need your full co-operation to make this work fine.because the management is ready to approve this payment to any foreigner who has correct information of this account, which I will give to you,upon your positive response and once I am convinced that you are capable and will meet up with instruction of a key bank official who is deeply involved with me in this business.
At the conclusion of this business,you will be given 30% of the total amount,60% will be for me,while 10% will be for expenses both parties might have incurred during the process of transferring.I look forward to your earliest reply.
Sincerely,
Mr.Bello Dansuki.
As you can see kind reader, there are many things wrong with this letter, so to confuse, discombobulate and basically fuck with the author I figured I would correct the errors, and send it back, along with a personalized note.
Dear Mr. Bello,
I know that in your poor, AIDS infested country of Africa the educational system inst the best, but figuring that you would work at a bank and all, that you would be able to afford a true education. Knowing full well that this letter will fall on deaf ears, it’s my gift to you, to send you a corrected version of this letter. Perhaps you will have better luck if your grammar and spelling wasn’t so horrible. Here are a couple pointers to perhaps improve your chances at successful scamming.
1) All scams coming out of Africa, (Nigeria mostly) are easy to pick out, the main reason is that you morons choose such a high sum of money, and seemingly pop out of nowhere, if you decreased the amount of promised money, and had a actually WORKING phone system/bank that they could call to verify the information it would work a whole hell of a lot better.
2) Your stupid scam has been on TV and the internet find a new one, try something maybe along the lines of prescription drug scams, China has had great success with this one in the recent history.
3) Don’t try and scam Americans, there are far more gullible people out there, especially in Europe, if they can “accidentally” marry there own twin they should be easy to scam.
Now that we have covered the basics, here is my gift to you Dear scammer, please feel free to use this letter to the best of your idiotic knowledge perhaps this version will be far more successful for you.
FROM THE DESK OF MR.BELLO DANSUKI,
BILL AND EXCHANGE MANAGER,
BANK OF AFRICA (B.O.A) OUAGADOUGOU,
BURKINA-FASO WEST AFRICA.
My Mobile No+22678851258
MY ALTANETIVE E-MAIL(mr_bello13@yahoo.fr)
(the first correction will be to make the amount more believable, oh yeah and that Yahoo e-mail extension if from FRANCE NOT AFRICA)
( I took the liberty of removing the RE: as this is a original not a response letter) TRANSFER OF ($18,500 USD)
(EIGHTEEN THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED UNITED STATES DOLLARS ).
Dear Friend, (this is the first thing that labels it a scam, Americans are not friendly to strangers)
(indent the beginning of a paragraph you moron)
I want (replace Want with WISH) to transfer to overseas (replace with YOU) ($18,500 USD) Eighteen Thousand Five Hundred United States Dollars) from the Bank of Africa,(always hit the space bar after a comma moron)I want to ask you to quietly look for a reliable and honest person who will be capable and fit to provide either an existing bank account or to set up a new Bank a/c (spell out account, it will look less like a scam, and also talk like a fucking American, the word quietly implies that its secret, or wrong and should be hidden replace with a different word) immediately to receive this money, (SPACE) even an empty a/c (ACCOUNT) can serve to receive this (These) funds quitely. (Quietly is spelled wrong, refer to point made above)
I am Bello Dansuki, (space moron, space, oh yeah and choose a name people understand) the accountant personal confidant to Dr. Ravindra F. Shah (this sounds middle eastern, Americans are wary of foreign shit with a middle eastern name) who died together with his wife Dr.Mrs.Manjula Parikh-Shah (Dr.? Mrs? LOL, fucking idiot) in a plane crash on the 1st Oct. (SPACE) 2003 on their way to attend wedding in Boston. (make sure a plane crash really happened at this time so that if someone where to research your bogus claim it would give it some credibility, also Boston? Who the hell choose to voluntarily go to Boston?)
Mr. (SPACE, oh yeah and PICK AN AMERICAN NAME, for her first name, as come on, if she’s American she would have an American first name and a Nigerian, Saudi, or where ever your from last name) Ravindra F. Shah, is an American,(SPACE)a physician and industrialist,(SPACE) he died without having any (Replace ANY with A) beneficiary to his assets including his account here in Burkina Faso which he opened in a (I have a problem with this, you said he opened it in a bank of Africa, is there only one or is it a BRANCH of a bank of Africa? I didn’t even know Africa had a bank I thought they traded in cow dung, or ivory, and black market condoms or something, but I guess with all the foreign aid, they get they must have a bank somewhere.) Bank of Africa in the year 2000 as his personal savings for the purpose of expansion and developement (DEVELOPMENT) of his company (FUCKING SPACE) before his untimely death in 2003.
The amount involved is (USD18, 500) EIGHTEEN THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED UNITED STATES DOLLARS,(SPACE, and another point, capitalizing it wont make it seem more important) no other person knows about this account, (if its at a bank, someone else would know, trust me) I am contacting you for us to transfer this funds to your account as the beneficiary,(SPACE FUCKER!!!)I am only contacting you as a foreigner because this money can not be approved to a local person here,(SPACE COCKMONKEY) without valid international foreign passport,(SPACE DICKWEED) but can only be approved to any foreigner with valid international passport or drivers license and foreign a/c (SPELL ACCOUNT) because the money is in US Dollars and the former owner of the a/c(ACCOUNT) Mr.(SPACE CHOTE MONKEY) Ravindra F. Shah is a foreigner too,(SPACE)and as such the money can only be approved into a foreign a/c (ACCOUNT) .However, (SPACE ASSWIPE)I am revealing this to you with believe in ALLAH (an African reference to a middle eastern deity? If you want to appeal to Americans use the word God, not Allah, now in days Allah is something people say before they blow up.) that you will never let me down in this business, you are the first and the only person that I am contacting for this business, so please reply urgently so that I will inform you the next step to take urgently. (The use of the word ‘urgently’ twice in a run-on sentence doesn’t make it sound any smarter, for the love of god get a thesaurus)
(INDENT) Send also your private telephone and fax number including the full details of the account to be used for the deposit.(SPACE) I need your full co-operation to make this work fine.(SPACE, also delete the word ‘fine’) because the management is ready to approve this payment to any foreigner who has correct information of this account, which I will give to you,(SPACE TAINT PAINTER) upon your positive response and once I am convinced that you are capable and will meet up with instruction of a key bank official who is deeply involved with me in this business. (This implies that you will actually meet me in person, hence your not in Nigeria, Saudi, or France, *I’m betting on France* If you would truly like to meet, I would be happy to give you these instructions in person.)
(INDENT) At the conclusion of this business,(SPACE ASS WEASLE) you will be given 30% of the total amount,60% will be for me,(SPACE CAMEL JOCKEY) while 10% will be for expenses both parties might have incurred during the process of transferring.(TRANSFERING) I look forward to your earliest reply. (Earliest? So I am supposed to only reply in the very wee hours of the dawn? Or perhaps, your once again confused because your terrorist brethren learned English from a conversion Koran?)
Sincerely,
Mr.Bello Dansuki.
I would like to take a moment, and also point out a few more problems, the surname Dansuki is prevalent in a couple places, the first is Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and finally Nigeria, so I was correct (after a quick Google Search) in my assumption) ‘Yahoo.fr’ in your e-mail address is Yahoo! France, how can you be in Africa and using Yahoo France unless it’s a French province of Africa, hence NIGERIA! I kick ass I know. Another fallacy is that there is no Bank of Africa, Africa is made up of a bunch of different countries, not all of them peaceful to each other and not all of them using the same currency. Have you ever heard of Bank of Europe? No? well, a little lesson my friend Bank of America is not the NATIONAL bank of America, it’s a bank that uses the name America. After goggling Bank of Africa, I find that there is one that follows the same attributes as Bank of America, however it is based in Kenya and just so happens to have a simple small branch in Nigeria. Imagine that…It’s in Lagos Nigeria to boot! Scammer capitol of the world! 10 points for Sarge! Please feel free to use the information provided, dear scammer as I do not want you to go hungry, or lose internet privileges due to your lack of money grubbing skills.
Sincerely,
Sarge.
p.s.
Stop breathing my air, your simply wasting it, feel free to remove yourself from the gene pool in as rapid a method as you can afford, if you need money to pay the local Kevorkian understudy I will be happy to provide the means for you, and your family to schedule an appointment.
OUTSTANDING,
Kind reader, I am proud to say that I have moved up in society enough that I have finally after a much anticipated wait and having signed up for EVERY SINGLE spam/scam list that sells your e-mail information that I could find, that I finally, with much anticipation have received my first verifiable SCAM LETTER! Here is that letter, and my response to the scammer.
FROM THE DESK OF MR.BELLO DANSUKI,
BILL AND EXCHANGE MANAGER,
BANK OF AFRICA (B.O.A) OUAGADOUGOU,
BURKINA-FASO WEST AFRICA.
My Mobile No+22678851258
MY ALTANETIVE E-MAIL(mr_bello13@yahoo.fr)
RE:TRANSFER OF ($18,500.000.00 USD)
(EIGHTEEN MILLION FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND UNITED STATES DOLLARS ).
Dear Friend,
I want to transfer to overseas ($18,500.000.00 USD) Eighteen Million Five Hundred Thousand United States Dollars) from the Bank of Africa,I want to ask you to quietly look for a reliable and honest person who will be capable and fit to provide either an existing bank account or to set up a new Bank a/c immediately to receive this money,even an empty a/c can serve to receive this funds quitely.
I am Bello Dansuki,the accountant personal confidant to Dr. Ravindra F. Shah who died together with his wife Dr.Mrs.Manjula Parikh-Shah in a plane crash on the 1st Oct.2003 on their way to attend wedding in Boston.
Mr.Ravindra F. Shah, is an American,a physician and industrialist,he died without having any beneficiary to his assets including his account here in Burkina Faso which he opened in a Bank of Africa in the year 2000 as his personal savings for the purpose of expansion and developement of his companybefore his untimely death in 2003.
The amount involved is (USD18,500,000.00) EIGHTEEN MILLION FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND UNITED STATES DOLLARS,no other person knows about this account, I am contacting you for us to transfer this funds to your account as the beneficiary,I am only contacting you as a foreigner because this money can not be approved to a local person here,without valid international foreign passport,but can only be approved to any foreigner with valid international passport or drivers license and foreign a/c because the money is in US Dollars and the former owner of the a/c Mr.Ravindra F. Shah is a foreigner too,and as such the money can only be approved into a foreign a/c.However,I am revealing this to you with believe in ALLAH that you will never let me down in this business, you are the first and the only person that I am contacting for this business, so please reply urgently so that I will inform you the next step to take urgently.
Send also your private telephone and fax number including the full details of the account to be used for the deposit.I need your full co-operation to make this work fine.because the management is ready to approve this payment to any foreigner who has correct information of this account, which I will give to you,upon your positive response and once I am convinced that you are capable and will meet up with instruction of a key bank official who is deeply involved with me in this business.
At the conclusion of this business,you will be given 30% of the total amount,60% will be for me,while 10% will be for expenses both parties might have incurred during the process of transferring.I look forward to your earliest reply.
Sincerely,
Mr.Bello Dansuki.
As you can see kind reader, there are many things wrong with this letter, so to confuse, discombobulate and basically fuck with the author I figured I would correct the errors, and send it back, along with a personalized note.
Dear Mr. Bello,
I know that in your poor, AIDS infested country of Africa the educational system inst the best, but figuring that you would work at a bank and all, that you would be able to afford a true education. Knowing full well that this letter will fall on deaf ears, it’s my gift to you, to send you a corrected version of this letter. Perhaps you will have better luck if your grammar and spelling wasn’t so horrible. Here are a couple pointers to perhaps improve your chances at successful scamming.
1) All scams coming out of Africa, (Nigeria mostly) are easy to pick out, the main reason is that you morons choose such a high sum of money, and seemingly pop out of nowhere, if you decreased the amount of promised money, and had a actually WORKING phone system/bank that they could call to verify the information it would work a whole hell of a lot better.
2) Your stupid scam has been on TV and the internet find a new one, try something maybe along the lines of prescription drug scams, China has had great success with this one in the recent history.
3) Don’t try and scam Americans, there are far more gullible people out there, especially in Europe, if they can “accidentally” marry there own twin they should be easy to scam.
Now that we have covered the basics, here is my gift to you Dear scammer, please feel free to use this letter to the best of your idiotic knowledge perhaps this version will be far more successful for you.
FROM THE DESK OF MR.BELLO DANSUKI,
BILL AND EXCHANGE MANAGER,
BANK OF AFRICA (B.O.A) OUAGADOUGOU,
BURKINA-FASO WEST AFRICA.
My Mobile No+22678851258
MY ALTANETIVE E-MAIL(mr_bello13@yahoo.fr)
(the first correction will be to make the amount more believable, oh yeah and that Yahoo e-mail extension if from FRANCE NOT AFRICA)
( I took the liberty of removing the RE: as this is a original not a response letter) TRANSFER OF ($18,500 USD)
(EIGHTEEN THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED UNITED STATES DOLLARS ).
Dear Friend, (this is the first thing that labels it a scam, Americans are not friendly to strangers)
(indent the beginning of a paragraph you moron)
I want (replace Want with WISH) to transfer to overseas (replace with YOU) ($18,500 USD) Eighteen Thousand Five Hundred United States Dollars) from the Bank of Africa,(always hit the space bar after a comma moron)I want to ask you to quietly look for a reliable and honest person who will be capable and fit to provide either an existing bank account or to set up a new Bank a/c (spell out account, it will look less like a scam, and also talk like a fucking American, the word quietly implies that its secret, or wrong and should be hidden replace with a different word) immediately to receive this money, (SPACE) even an empty a/c (ACCOUNT) can serve to receive this (These) funds quitely. (Quietly is spelled wrong, refer to point made above)
I am Bello Dansuki, (space moron, space, oh yeah and choose a name people understand) the accountant personal confidant to Dr. Ravindra F. Shah (this sounds middle eastern, Americans are wary of foreign shit with a middle eastern name) who died together with his wife Dr.Mrs.Manjula Parikh-Shah (Dr.? Mrs? LOL, fucking idiot) in a plane crash on the 1st Oct. (SPACE) 2003 on their way to attend wedding in Boston. (make sure a plane crash really happened at this time so that if someone where to research your bogus claim it would give it some credibility, also Boston? Who the hell choose to voluntarily go to Boston?)
Mr. (SPACE, oh yeah and PICK AN AMERICAN NAME, for her first name, as come on, if she’s American she would have an American first name and a Nigerian, Saudi, or where ever your from last name) Ravindra F. Shah, is an American,(SPACE)a physician and industrialist,(SPACE) he died without having any (Replace ANY with A) beneficiary to his assets including his account here in Burkina Faso which he opened in a (I have a problem with this, you said he opened it in a bank of Africa, is there only one or is it a BRANCH of a bank of Africa? I didn’t even know Africa had a bank I thought they traded in cow dung, or ivory, and black market condoms or something, but I guess with all the foreign aid, they get they must have a bank somewhere.) Bank of Africa in the year 2000 as his personal savings for the purpose of expansion and developement (DEVELOPMENT) of his company (FUCKING SPACE) before his untimely death in 2003.
The amount involved is (USD18, 500) EIGHTEEN THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED UNITED STATES DOLLARS,(SPACE, and another point, capitalizing it wont make it seem more important) no other person knows about this account, (if its at a bank, someone else would know, trust me) I am contacting you for us to transfer this funds to your account as the beneficiary,(SPACE FUCKER!!!)I am only contacting you as a foreigner because this money can not be approved to a local person here,(SPACE COCKMONKEY) without valid international foreign passport,(SPACE DICKWEED) but can only be approved to any foreigner with valid international passport or drivers license and foreign a/c (SPELL ACCOUNT) because the money is in US Dollars and the former owner of the a/c(ACCOUNT) Mr.(SPACE CHOTE MONKEY) Ravindra F. Shah is a foreigner too,(SPACE)and as such the money can only be approved into a foreign a/c (ACCOUNT) .However, (SPACE ASSWIPE)I am revealing this to you with believe in ALLAH (an African reference to a middle eastern deity? If you want to appeal to Americans use the word God, not Allah, now in days Allah is something people say before they blow up.) that you will never let me down in this business, you are the first and the only person that I am contacting for this business, so please reply urgently so that I will inform you the next step to take urgently. (The use of the word ‘urgently’ twice in a run-on sentence doesn’t make it sound any smarter, for the love of god get a thesaurus)
(INDENT) Send also your private telephone and fax number including the full details of the account to be used for the deposit.(SPACE) I need your full co-operation to make this work fine.(SPACE, also delete the word ‘fine’) because the management is ready to approve this payment to any foreigner who has correct information of this account, which I will give to you,(SPACE TAINT PAINTER) upon your positive response and once I am convinced that you are capable and will meet up with instruction of a key bank official who is deeply involved with me in this business. (This implies that you will actually meet me in person, hence your not in Nigeria, Saudi, or France, *I’m betting on France* If you would truly like to meet, I would be happy to give you these instructions in person.)
(INDENT) At the conclusion of this business,(SPACE ASS WEASLE) you will be given 30% of the total amount,60% will be for me,(SPACE CAMEL JOCKEY) while 10% will be for expenses both parties might have incurred during the process of transferring.(TRANSFERING) I look forward to your earliest reply. (Earliest? So I am supposed to only reply in the very wee hours of the dawn? Or perhaps, your once again confused because your terrorist brethren learned English from a conversion Koran?)
Sincerely,
Mr.Bello Dansuki.
I would like to take a moment, and also point out a few more problems, the surname Dansuki is prevalent in a couple places, the first is Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and finally Nigeria, so I was correct (after a quick Google Search) in my assumption) ‘Yahoo.fr’ in your e-mail address is Yahoo! France, how can you be in Africa and using Yahoo France unless it’s a French province of Africa, hence NIGERIA! I kick ass I know. Another fallacy is that there is no Bank of Africa, Africa is made up of a bunch of different countries, not all of them peaceful to each other and not all of them using the same currency. Have you ever heard of Bank of Europe? No? well, a little lesson my friend Bank of America is not the NATIONAL bank of America, it’s a bank that uses the name America. After goggling Bank of Africa, I find that there is one that follows the same attributes as Bank of America, however it is based in Kenya and just so happens to have a simple small branch in Nigeria. Imagine that…It’s in Lagos Nigeria to boot! Scammer capitol of the world! 10 points for Sarge! Please feel free to use the information provided, dear scammer as I do not want you to go hungry, or lose internet privileges due to your lack of money grubbing skills.
Sincerely,
Sarge.
p.s.
Stop breathing my air, your simply wasting it, feel free to remove yourself from the gene pool in as rapid a method as you can afford, if you need money to pay the local Kevorkian understudy I will be happy to provide the means for you, and your family to schedule an appointment.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Year End Wrap Up.
Year End Wrap Up.
Dear Reader…
Allrighty people, sorry that I haven’t written for some time, but I figured I would catch you all up on the random, slightly strange and sometimes good things that happened since the last blog. So here are the things of note in no particular order.
I had the worst day of the year one Friday, when I ran over a buss stop, I figured it would make the news, but oh well, it didn’t. Oh yeah I also broke a small piece of glass off my aviary, broke up again with Mexican Girl, (long story) everything I touched turned to shit that day also, in general it was just a historically bad day. That day started off waking up a full hour late for work.
I spent Christmas alone, and in doing so I consumed a half gallon of crown royal, no one even called me…you suck people.
I took out some more clients and made it a hunt of the life time, got there grandson a very bad ass 7 point cull buck, and the son a turkey, and the client him self a very nice 10 point. They where serious red necks, but they had a lot of fun, I speak red neck. It was truly a hunt of a life time. The problem was Elmer the moron that we take the deer to for processing down there, was being a asshole, and I had to get in his face. He was soliciting my clients for cash, WTF?! This seriously ticked me off and I had to get in his face and yell at him after I pried him away from my clients, and took him out back, I got about 3 inches from his face, and yelled in Sarge style, “What the fuck cock breath? Don’t you dare embarrass me again, understand? If you want money you come to me or Boss you don’t solicit my fucking clients and embarrass the fuck out of me and the company.” It had minimal effect on him; he was to damned drunk of his discount beer to realize I was threatening him. I called Boss, after he went back to it, and Boss called him, and chewed him out, he behaved after that. I took the clients out to BBQ, and get very ‘deer lease’ drunk. They eventually forgot about the whole thing, and half the things that we did on the lease….alcohol can be a good thing.
Mexican Girl keeps drifting in and out of my life, generally costing me money, always wanting food and gas, she’s not putting out nearly enough Cost vs Sex isn’t adding up, it would be cheaper to just get hire a hooker full time…anyone have any references? I am happy to be a sugar daddy, if the amount of sex is equal in some proportion to the amount of money spent. That would be a interesting blog…how much is what sexual favor worth?
Anyone know Tucker Max? Yeah well in a style first made popular by him, I downed a Fifth of Titos Vodka before even showing up at our Christmas party, I jumped on Santa’s lap, then after rattling off a half slurred list of wishes, involving Brazilian hookers, a million dollars, a blow job from a midget…you get the idea, I said it right into the microphone also…the owners of the company where there, the room was silent, then I fell backwards off Santa’s lap, in the process kicking him in the face on accident the room burst into laughter. They tried to cut me off at the bar (4 shots crown, 8 shots of tequila and 4 bud light drafts after the Santa incident..) but I just waited until they weren’t looking and snagged a bottle, a pretty blue one, I think it was sky vodka and stated to spike everyone’s drinks. Gotta love open bar. There are pictures, dirty, evil pictures of things I did, and other people did after I spiked there drinks. The owner lady gave Santa a lap dance, then Boss gave her a lap dance….32 employees drank/ate $15k in food/alcohol at that party….take that big oil! I AM LEDGEND! Yes its true, I am a legend at work, partially because of my alcohol absorption ability, and because I become more friendly and funny and feed off a crowed when I drink. Some chick took me home after I tried to light the bar on fire with the remainder of my blue bottle, and re-enact a dance from Coyote Ugly while singing some Britney Spears remix song…it was ugly, however very hilarious the pictures are posted all over work. Anyone else would be embarrassed but me? Hell no it just strokes the ego…something wrong here…
I traded the parakeets for a breeder female cockatiel for my male cockatiel, I figure I will try and make more. Birds kick my ass, I can get any mammal, or reptile to reproduce in captivity but the damned birds…even my finches in my aviary make nests, but have yet to produce me any babies. My Green cheek Conures, the male tried to kill my female after she refused to sit on the one egg she laid so far, so I had to separate them, however she was depressed and ate her egg. GREAT! Another catastrophic failure with birds, I shall not give up until I get babies!
I took Cranky out hunting rabbits this last weekend (Saturday night, the 30th) outstanding hunt, I’m the best guide in the world found a field packed full of rabbits he we got PLENTY of food for his bigger reptiles to last for months! (Freeze them, to kill parasites then thaw them out to feed to the snakes, each rabbit is in its own large Ziploc bag.) Sunday mourning I had to drive around in search of a car wash that was open the truck is white and it was bathed in blood, bloody hand prints, smear marks, even blood on the windshield, maybe 20% of the total body of the truck was covered in blood, and blood was congealed in giant stalactites hanging from the bumper and tail gate. I got a lot of strange looks in traffic, especially because I hadn’t shaven and was wearing old dirty looking clothes, ripped up and so forth. I did hit on a cute chick in the gas station when I bought the car wash, she kept stressing she had kids and so forth, and that she hated guns, I didn’t figure it was going to work. She seemed like she wanted a date, but heck, she hates guns. I love kids, but if you haven’t figured out guns are a big portion of my livelihood, guns and animals is where I make some of my rent money. I guide on a lot of hunts, and I breed a lot of different animals. I love kids BTW, and I plan on purchasing some after I buy a house in ’08. I will explain that sentence later.
Well there is more stuff that happened, but heck it’s not nearly as entertaining as that which I have written about. Well gentile reader I will talk at you later.
Thanks,
Sarge.
Dear Reader…
Allrighty people, sorry that I haven’t written for some time, but I figured I would catch you all up on the random, slightly strange and sometimes good things that happened since the last blog. So here are the things of note in no particular order.
I had the worst day of the year one Friday, when I ran over a buss stop, I figured it would make the news, but oh well, it didn’t. Oh yeah I also broke a small piece of glass off my aviary, broke up again with Mexican Girl, (long story) everything I touched turned to shit that day also, in general it was just a historically bad day. That day started off waking up a full hour late for work.
I spent Christmas alone, and in doing so I consumed a half gallon of crown royal, no one even called me…you suck people.
I took out some more clients and made it a hunt of the life time, got there grandson a very bad ass 7 point cull buck, and the son a turkey, and the client him self a very nice 10 point. They where serious red necks, but they had a lot of fun, I speak red neck. It was truly a hunt of a life time. The problem was Elmer the moron that we take the deer to for processing down there, was being a asshole, and I had to get in his face. He was soliciting my clients for cash, WTF?! This seriously ticked me off and I had to get in his face and yell at him after I pried him away from my clients, and took him out back, I got about 3 inches from his face, and yelled in Sarge style, “What the fuck cock breath? Don’t you dare embarrass me again, understand? If you want money you come to me or Boss you don’t solicit my fucking clients and embarrass the fuck out of me and the company.” It had minimal effect on him; he was to damned drunk of his discount beer to realize I was threatening him. I called Boss, after he went back to it, and Boss called him, and chewed him out, he behaved after that. I took the clients out to BBQ, and get very ‘deer lease’ drunk. They eventually forgot about the whole thing, and half the things that we did on the lease….alcohol can be a good thing.
Mexican Girl keeps drifting in and out of my life, generally costing me money, always wanting food and gas, she’s not putting out nearly enough Cost vs Sex isn’t adding up, it would be cheaper to just get hire a hooker full time…anyone have any references? I am happy to be a sugar daddy, if the amount of sex is equal in some proportion to the amount of money spent. That would be a interesting blog…how much is what sexual favor worth?
Anyone know Tucker Max? Yeah well in a style first made popular by him, I downed a Fifth of Titos Vodka before even showing up at our Christmas party, I jumped on Santa’s lap, then after rattling off a half slurred list of wishes, involving Brazilian hookers, a million dollars, a blow job from a midget…you get the idea, I said it right into the microphone also…the owners of the company where there, the room was silent, then I fell backwards off Santa’s lap, in the process kicking him in the face on accident the room burst into laughter. They tried to cut me off at the bar (4 shots crown, 8 shots of tequila and 4 bud light drafts after the Santa incident..) but I just waited until they weren’t looking and snagged a bottle, a pretty blue one, I think it was sky vodka and stated to spike everyone’s drinks. Gotta love open bar. There are pictures, dirty, evil pictures of things I did, and other people did after I spiked there drinks. The owner lady gave Santa a lap dance, then Boss gave her a lap dance….32 employees drank/ate $15k in food/alcohol at that party….take that big oil! I AM LEDGEND! Yes its true, I am a legend at work, partially because of my alcohol absorption ability, and because I become more friendly and funny and feed off a crowed when I drink. Some chick took me home after I tried to light the bar on fire with the remainder of my blue bottle, and re-enact a dance from Coyote Ugly while singing some Britney Spears remix song…it was ugly, however very hilarious the pictures are posted all over work. Anyone else would be embarrassed but me? Hell no it just strokes the ego…something wrong here…
I traded the parakeets for a breeder female cockatiel for my male cockatiel, I figure I will try and make more. Birds kick my ass, I can get any mammal, or reptile to reproduce in captivity but the damned birds…even my finches in my aviary make nests, but have yet to produce me any babies. My Green cheek Conures, the male tried to kill my female after she refused to sit on the one egg she laid so far, so I had to separate them, however she was depressed and ate her egg. GREAT! Another catastrophic failure with birds, I shall not give up until I get babies!
I took Cranky out hunting rabbits this last weekend (Saturday night, the 30th) outstanding hunt, I’m the best guide in the world found a field packed full of rabbits he we got PLENTY of food for his bigger reptiles to last for months! (Freeze them, to kill parasites then thaw them out to feed to the snakes, each rabbit is in its own large Ziploc bag.) Sunday mourning I had to drive around in search of a car wash that was open the truck is white and it was bathed in blood, bloody hand prints, smear marks, even blood on the windshield, maybe 20% of the total body of the truck was covered in blood, and blood was congealed in giant stalactites hanging from the bumper and tail gate. I got a lot of strange looks in traffic, especially because I hadn’t shaven and was wearing old dirty looking clothes, ripped up and so forth. I did hit on a cute chick in the gas station when I bought the car wash, she kept stressing she had kids and so forth, and that she hated guns, I didn’t figure it was going to work. She seemed like she wanted a date, but heck, she hates guns. I love kids, but if you haven’t figured out guns are a big portion of my livelihood, guns and animals is where I make some of my rent money. I guide on a lot of hunts, and I breed a lot of different animals. I love kids BTW, and I plan on purchasing some after I buy a house in ’08. I will explain that sentence later.
Well there is more stuff that happened, but heck it’s not nearly as entertaining as that which I have written about. Well gentile reader I will talk at you later.
Thanks,
Sarge.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Bye Bye Mexican Girl
Settle Down…
I am going to bitch for a while, as today I am quite cranky. So yesterday (Sunday the 9th of December) this Mexican girl I have been seeing (read: screwing) off and on for some time calls me to tell me she wants to come over, however she doesn’t have the gas to come see me. (she’s a poor college student). I have been playing hunting guide all weekend for some upscale clients, so I was dead tired and wore the heck out, suffering from a moderate hang over, and I didn’t feel like getting up from the sofa I had just laid down on so as o watch my aviary like a TV. She started making cute little noises and saying please really sweet so I hop my happy ass up, get dressed again, and head to the next town over so I can fill up her gas tank and we can see each other for a few minutes. Its freaking cold outside, but the truck hadn’t even cooled down yet, I had only been home about 15 minutes or so. (being single I strip first thing when I come home.) I get over to the dorms, and call her, get her car put $35 worth of gas in it, and then we head to her dorm room where her fat white annoying roommate is watching TV and channel surfing after the person on TV says about 5 words. This is already annoying me. Its getting late in the evening so I lay down on the bed and start to snooze a little and the annoying fat white chick is saying “keep it PG” and shit. Gee, I bet our snuggling was the most action she had seen outside the internet. Keeping things PG isn’t possible when you factor in my penis. So little Mexican girl is playing with my crotch under the blankets while I doze happily, a nice way to snuggle I say. Then all the sudden she pops off with the following comment: “I want you to make me jealous, I haven’t ever been jealous before and I want to know what I would do if I get jealous”. The music stopped, was I just given free reign to hit on random women in front of my supposed girlfriend? This needed more clarification so I stated “well there are some girls at work (the nylons) that hit on me on a regular basis.” This didn’t quite satisfy her, as she retorted with “Oh I know you’re too good of a guy to cheat on me, and that’s what’s making this boring, you wouldn’t ever cheat that’s just not like you, so how are you supposed to make me jealous?” What the fuck over? So now I’m too good of a person to cheat? Or is she saying I’m not attractive enough that any other woman would want me? This defiantly needed some more clarification. Time for Super Asshole Sarge to come out and test her limits of relationship endurance. “Ok woman, look here I don’t screw around, I don’t cheat I don’t even look at other women because I am happy with you.” That was a last ditch effort to avoid the train wreck I saw coming. She rolled her eyes, stopped playing with me privates and said “but that’s boring, how come you don’t?”
Ok, lets stop there for a moment, and realize that until that point I was half asleep and not caring about the conversation much as she was fondling me. When she stopped was when I finally woke up fully and got slightly peeved. I had only had about 4 hours of sleep due to my hunting guide experiences the days prior. Me and Mexican Girl’s relationship has been kind of strange and off and on for over a year. I was pretty fed up with life in general at this point. So in true Sarge style I told her off.
“Listen little girl, if I wanted any lip from you I’d scrape it off my zipper, I don’t WANT to make you jealous but hey, you don’t want a GOOD relationship now do you? You want a typical old world Mexico relationship where the man fucks 3-4 other women on the side. Has this sorta thing been bred into you? You know I’m successful and decently good looking I could walk out that door right now and find a pretty little white girl that wouldn’t give me half the trouble you do, but nooo, I chose you. You are making me regret this choice, now I’m going home, you can go back to your laundry I’ll talk to you later.”
Just so you know kind reader, your not beginning this story in the middle, only in the end, there is much you do not know. Assume what you must, and fill in the blanks using your imagination.
So I left, drove my happy ass back home, went back to the sofa to watch my aviary, and doze off for a while, I dreamed about all the stupid random strange bullshit that Mexican Girl has put me through and I decided that it was probably going to make my life a hell of a lot easier (and less expensive) if I where to just cut it off with her for good. Later that night she called me to tell me she was going out with her friends, and I told her it was over, that I was not going to see her again, that I didn’t need the twilight zone emotional element, and drama associated with our relationship. I also deleted her phone number from my palm treo thingy, and all her contact information was removed from my house. The bad thing is that I don’t even KNOW her phone number, never bothered to memories it, it was always just in my phone. Bye bye Mexican Girl.
This is why I am cranky today; I think I am suffering from Sperm Retention Syndrome.
Thanks,
Sarge.
I am going to bitch for a while, as today I am quite cranky. So yesterday (Sunday the 9th of December) this Mexican girl I have been seeing (read: screwing) off and on for some time calls me to tell me she wants to come over, however she doesn’t have the gas to come see me. (she’s a poor college student). I have been playing hunting guide all weekend for some upscale clients, so I was dead tired and wore the heck out, suffering from a moderate hang over, and I didn’t feel like getting up from the sofa I had just laid down on so as o watch my aviary like a TV. She started making cute little noises and saying please really sweet so I hop my happy ass up, get dressed again, and head to the next town over so I can fill up her gas tank and we can see each other for a few minutes. Its freaking cold outside, but the truck hadn’t even cooled down yet, I had only been home about 15 minutes or so. (being single I strip first thing when I come home.) I get over to the dorms, and call her, get her car put $35 worth of gas in it, and then we head to her dorm room where her fat white annoying roommate is watching TV and channel surfing after the person on TV says about 5 words. This is already annoying me. Its getting late in the evening so I lay down on the bed and start to snooze a little and the annoying fat white chick is saying “keep it PG” and shit. Gee, I bet our snuggling was the most action she had seen outside the internet. Keeping things PG isn’t possible when you factor in my penis. So little Mexican girl is playing with my crotch under the blankets while I doze happily, a nice way to snuggle I say. Then all the sudden she pops off with the following comment: “I want you to make me jealous, I haven’t ever been jealous before and I want to know what I would do if I get jealous”. The music stopped, was I just given free reign to hit on random women in front of my supposed girlfriend? This needed more clarification so I stated “well there are some girls at work (the nylons) that hit on me on a regular basis.” This didn’t quite satisfy her, as she retorted with “Oh I know you’re too good of a guy to cheat on me, and that’s what’s making this boring, you wouldn’t ever cheat that’s just not like you, so how are you supposed to make me jealous?” What the fuck over? So now I’m too good of a person to cheat? Or is she saying I’m not attractive enough that any other woman would want me? This defiantly needed some more clarification. Time for Super Asshole Sarge to come out and test her limits of relationship endurance. “Ok woman, look here I don’t screw around, I don’t cheat I don’t even look at other women because I am happy with you.” That was a last ditch effort to avoid the train wreck I saw coming. She rolled her eyes, stopped playing with me privates and said “but that’s boring, how come you don’t?”
Ok, lets stop there for a moment, and realize that until that point I was half asleep and not caring about the conversation much as she was fondling me. When she stopped was when I finally woke up fully and got slightly peeved. I had only had about 4 hours of sleep due to my hunting guide experiences the days prior. Me and Mexican Girl’s relationship has been kind of strange and off and on for over a year. I was pretty fed up with life in general at this point. So in true Sarge style I told her off.
“Listen little girl, if I wanted any lip from you I’d scrape it off my zipper, I don’t WANT to make you jealous but hey, you don’t want a GOOD relationship now do you? You want a typical old world Mexico relationship where the man fucks 3-4 other women on the side. Has this sorta thing been bred into you? You know I’m successful and decently good looking I could walk out that door right now and find a pretty little white girl that wouldn’t give me half the trouble you do, but nooo, I chose you. You are making me regret this choice, now I’m going home, you can go back to your laundry I’ll talk to you later.”
Just so you know kind reader, your not beginning this story in the middle, only in the end, there is much you do not know. Assume what you must, and fill in the blanks using your imagination.
So I left, drove my happy ass back home, went back to the sofa to watch my aviary, and doze off for a while, I dreamed about all the stupid random strange bullshit that Mexican Girl has put me through and I decided that it was probably going to make my life a hell of a lot easier (and less expensive) if I where to just cut it off with her for good. Later that night she called me to tell me she was going out with her friends, and I told her it was over, that I was not going to see her again, that I didn’t need the twilight zone emotional element, and drama associated with our relationship. I also deleted her phone number from my palm treo thingy, and all her contact information was removed from my house. The bad thing is that I don’t even KNOW her phone number, never bothered to memories it, it was always just in my phone. Bye bye Mexican Girl.
This is why I am cranky today; I think I am suffering from Sperm Retention Syndrome.
Thanks,
Sarge.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Boss's Buck
Ladies and Gentlemen:
Let me take a moment to apologize since my last post not much note worth has happened, a few things here and there, such as, I took Boss hunting again on Friday, and Saturday mourning we saw a MONSTER buck around 9:20am. We pulled up to a feeder, and I was glassing it, and this is how it went down…
Boss, “Sarge, you see anything over there?”
Me, “Spike, Doe under the feeder, small buck…”
Just as I was finishing that sentence the “Doe” lifted her head, and BAM, deep, dark mahogany colored horns are a couple inches outside the feeder on either side, he had a rack bigger than some mule deer I have seen. I started breathing a chant “oh my god, shoot, shoot it” over and over. Boss went ballistic, and tried to get a shot, however his rest was unstable, and the spike started trotting off after a Doe that was near the tree line. ‘Al Calhoun’ the buck, started a fast gallivant walk after the spike, he went behind a thicket of trees, and as Boss maneuvered to get a shot as he came out, we lost sight of him, Al Calhoun disappeared.
We returned to the truck, freaking out slightly, and decided not to pressure him by trying to chase him down, but that we would come back a bit later, there is plenty of deer season left. We went into ‘The Chatterbox’ a awesome small diner, all home cooked right in front of you, had some breakfast while planning and trying hard to keep the coffee mugs steady in the afterglow of the adrenaline rush that followed such an event. We picked up some corn at the T&C, (town and country, it s a gas station/convince store line) it was a couple hours later, and somewhere around noon when we got back out there, a storm front had started to move in and the wind was heavy outa the south. The first thing that we saw where some cows, bed down next to the road on the lease, this was not a good sign, if the animals where bed down, we wouldn’t get another chance at Al Calhoun this weekend, there would be no way to catch him running around, and seeing him hiding in the brush would be dang near impossible. A little about the hunting lease…its not the biggest lease in the world, however we only hunt roughly 15% of it, giving the other areas as safe zones for the game animals.
We where driving along slowly, trying hard to stare holes through the brush line so as to see hidden antlers in the tangle of underbrush when Boss slams on the breaks. “There he is!” he whispers in triumph, I stare hard at the brush and finally see a very large 11 point buck sitting up in the middle of a HUGE pile of prickly pear cactus. I could tell right off the back that it wasn’t Al Calhoun, but it was a damned fine buck, and Boss made a fine shot right in the throat. This is that buck:
After it was down, that’s when its my turn… if you have read the previous posts, you would know I am Boss’s Bitch, he calls me Son, treats me like his son, refers to me as his son, he has pretty much adopted me. However unlike his other Son, the one named Muscles, I am a tool for Boss to use, and I do all the lifting, all the carrying, and all the semi-sober driving, just about anything even moderately risky. The thing is I sorta enjoy it. So I climb through the cactus, drag the buck out, drag it 150 yards to the truck, lift it into the truck, and then wrap it up to take back to the deer processors (a friend of ours, we will call him Elmer) After that the day was pretty much about alcohol, hunting stories, and planning the next go round. The feeders where all filled, everything checked, pictures where taken (I’m also the photographer), and we headed back home. That was pretty much the end of the weekend, got home at actually a reasonable time Saturday afternoon.
Sarge “The-everything-guy”
Let me take a moment to apologize since my last post not much note worth has happened, a few things here and there, such as, I took Boss hunting again on Friday, and Saturday mourning we saw a MONSTER buck around 9:20am. We pulled up to a feeder, and I was glassing it, and this is how it went down…
Boss, “Sarge, you see anything over there?”
Me, “Spike, Doe under the feeder, small buck…”
Just as I was finishing that sentence the “Doe” lifted her head, and BAM, deep, dark mahogany colored horns are a couple inches outside the feeder on either side, he had a rack bigger than some mule deer I have seen. I started breathing a chant “oh my god, shoot, shoot it” over and over. Boss went ballistic, and tried to get a shot, however his rest was unstable, and the spike started trotting off after a Doe that was near the tree line. ‘Al Calhoun’ the buck, started a fast gallivant walk after the spike, he went behind a thicket of trees, and as Boss maneuvered to get a shot as he came out, we lost sight of him, Al Calhoun disappeared.
We returned to the truck, freaking out slightly, and decided not to pressure him by trying to chase him down, but that we would come back a bit later, there is plenty of deer season left. We went into ‘The Chatterbox’ a awesome small diner, all home cooked right in front of you, had some breakfast while planning and trying hard to keep the coffee mugs steady in the afterglow of the adrenaline rush that followed such an event. We picked up some corn at the T&C, (town and country, it s a gas station/convince store line) it was a couple hours later, and somewhere around noon when we got back out there, a storm front had started to move in and the wind was heavy outa the south. The first thing that we saw where some cows, bed down next to the road on the lease, this was not a good sign, if the animals where bed down, we wouldn’t get another chance at Al Calhoun this weekend, there would be no way to catch him running around, and seeing him hiding in the brush would be dang near impossible. A little about the hunting lease…its not the biggest lease in the world, however we only hunt roughly 15% of it, giving the other areas as safe zones for the game animals.
We where driving along slowly, trying hard to stare holes through the brush line so as to see hidden antlers in the tangle of underbrush when Boss slams on the breaks. “There he is!” he whispers in triumph, I stare hard at the brush and finally see a very large 11 point buck sitting up in the middle of a HUGE pile of prickly pear cactus. I could tell right off the back that it wasn’t Al Calhoun, but it was a damned fine buck, and Boss made a fine shot right in the throat. This is that buck:
After it was down, that’s when its my turn… if you have read the previous posts, you would know I am Boss’s Bitch, he calls me Son, treats me like his son, refers to me as his son, he has pretty much adopted me. However unlike his other Son, the one named Muscles, I am a tool for Boss to use, and I do all the lifting, all the carrying, and all the semi-sober driving, just about anything even moderately risky. The thing is I sorta enjoy it. So I climb through the cactus, drag the buck out, drag it 150 yards to the truck, lift it into the truck, and then wrap it up to take back to the deer processors (a friend of ours, we will call him Elmer) After that the day was pretty much about alcohol, hunting stories, and planning the next go round. The feeders where all filled, everything checked, pictures where taken (I’m also the photographer), and we headed back home. That was pretty much the end of the weekend, got home at actually a reasonable time Saturday afternoon.Sarge “The-everything-guy”
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
first alcohol influenced rant
This will be my first, alcohol influenced blog, I am sure that there will be more in the future. Let me tell you about one of the worst days I have had in a long time. If you read ‘They call me Sarge’ the basic introduction into this strange world I live in than you might already know some of the people that I am about to talk about.
Skywalker annoys the living shit out of me. He stopped for one reason or another, taking his meds around thanksgiving. It has now been just long enough for them to work there way outa his system. He has Borderline Personality Disorder, along with a mild case of Schizophrenia, and maybe a touch of oh Dissociative Identity Disorder. This mix, allows him to function, but only if left alone and in a very noisy environment where not much is expected of him, and yet he receives a lot of praise. If its dead silent in a work area, he will hold heated discussions with himself, arguing both points, and then arguing how he stated the subject to begin with…there is more than one person living in Skywalkers head. Let me take you back in time a bit and tell you how Skywalker came to work in my department….
Like all good stories, this one will begin, “No shit there I was” minding my own business, not really noticing the people that worked on the other side of the building far, far away from me, building huge units used to compress gasses in the oil field. There grunts (Google it) I am no longer a ‘grunt*’ in the work force, I am somewhere near…I guess you could call it a pied blue and white collar worker. I get dirty when I have to, but I normally just do technical stuff, and play with $4k each computer units. Well, I hear a lot of gossip from the Nylons (the women that work in the office’s somewhat near me, that don’t have enough personality to warrant naming) That this guy Skywalker that worked for the Wrench Turner Side* as a field hand, had gotten kicked out of the whole state of New Mexico (this takes talent). I was immediately impressed, and decided to meet him, little did I know what kinda person Skywalker was. So immediately I sat about on my task to find Skywalker in the mess of denim uniforms and Hispanics that work for us. I didn’t have to look far, the first person that I asked, the WTS Shop Forman who we will call W.R., pointed to a middle aged, 5’10” man sporting a Mohawk hair do, yet clean shaven, with grease smeared all over his body. My first impression was he was an idiot, the disheveled look he had to him, made him appear as if he had the intellect of a nematode. I will admit that I severely underestimated his intelligence, the guy is a genius, although he is so fractured its hard to tell that he is very intelligent its evident when you get him drunk and he starts to slow down his thinking to a point that he is almost, but not quite functional.
Skywalker got kicked outa New Mexico for talking shit about our company, to clients, the clients didn’t like that, and we almost lost a huge contract, oh I would like to add, he didn’t work much, he was to busy bad mouthing our multi-million dollar company to turn his damned wrench. So they set about trying to find something in the shop that Skywalker could do, can he cut metal? Not in a way that’s OSHA compliant, and expedient. Can Skywalker read blueprints? Not without first trying to argue with the drafter, to the point they quit, and somehow the blueprints ended up catching fire (no freaking shit…) and the company had to pay $10k for a whole new stack and a new set of rights to the intellectual property. *side note: We wouldn’t have had to pay much, except a copy fee, but Skywalker pissed off the last draftsman so much that they took all there shit and left.* One thing that Skywalker could do was Reverse Engineer something, fix it, then put it back together, over the period of a year he worked himself out of a job, (two SMALL units, he…wasted time arguing) Skywalker would have been more efficient, its just he cannot remember where anything is once it leaves his hands. He literally re-discovers each and every tool he has, every time he needs it there is a hunt for this tool or that. Once out of a job, and no where to go but the unemployment line, Muscles gave Skywalker to me, he was given to me on Monday and the week went down hill from there.
I put Skywalker to work re-building Barton dry flow meters, its simple, take the crap out, sand blast the box, spray paint the box, screw the crap back in, clean the glass, and BAM done. On a BAD day it takes me about 45-60 minutes to perfectly remanufacture a Barton. On Monday, Skywalker did one Barton, however by the end of the day I knew his life story, and so many random facts I had to drown them out of my mind with the application of heavy amounts of alcohol. Tuesday, I decided to help Skywalker build some Barton’s as he only had one done and needed 10 done by Friday. Tuesday was a busy day for me so I was only able to build 4 Barton’s to give him a hand up, Tuesday’s score? Sarge-4 Skywalker-0. Not quite zero, he might have had one finished but he accidentally destroyed it in the process (don’t ask, it makes me angry) How in the hell do you weld a aluminum box, to a bench you are working on without killing yourself, while sitting on the bench, is a mystery to me, and always will be.
I was mean Tuesday, I yelled a lot during the day using terms I used to use on the FNG’s (Google it) in the army. I remember in a blind rage, yelling something to the term of “What-the-hell-are-you-thinking-the-best-part-of-you-ran-down-the-crack-of-your-mothers-ass. You-have-made-a-f*ing-beliver-out-of-me, up-untill *breath* up-untill-this-point-I-didn’t-belive-in-abortion, but-i-belive-in-retro-abortion-now. You-should-have-been-dropped-on-your-head-more, it-obviously-wasn’t-enough-to-kill-you….” It went on for another 2-3 minutes, and 5-7 breaths, but it gets worse from there.
You see, each Barton is potentially $800 for the company, and each one that is destroyed is $400+ that we lost, as we will have to replace it with a used unit bought from a third party. I left work with a bunch of the Nylons, and some other office hands, to go next door to a bar and drink the thoughts of the day away, also beat my liver, who had been acting up all day mind you, back into submission. At 1830 (630pm, for some) I was called back over to the shop, because The Monkeys had loaded about 3,000lbs worth of valves, and what not’s on the very rear of a 18’ trailer, with the logic of “when we hook it to a truck it will even it out man”. I was mostly drunk by then, and so my aim was off, but I came very close when I threw the rock at one of the Hispanic monkey’s heads. Mind you I had kicked Skywalker outa my shop at around 1725 or so when I went down the street to drowned my evil thoughts. Low and behold, the lights where on in my shop, I have $4 million worth of inventory so it worries me when the lights are on and I am not there, means the security system is deactivated for starters. I sneak up the door, try the knob, good its locked, I can hear movement inside, so I insert my key quietly, and open the door REAL fast and dramatic like. I will give you one guess as to who is sitting there, at a freaking desk reading some stupid paper of some sort that was already on that desk….That’s right ladies and gentlemen, Skywalker is riding the clock for overtime. I yell some more, pounded on things, and threw him the freak out, called Muscles, and told him what I found in my shop, and WHY I am back at the office, and he was not happy either. I locked up again, and went back to drinking. How Skywalker got into my office is still a mystery to me.
This mourning I show up, and get to work early, it was 7am when I clocked in and got my first cup of a very nice, very rich exotic coffee blend they serve at work called ‘Folgers’. At least they got rid of the Dollar Store brand coffee. Right as I take my first overly warm, tongue scalding sip, that leaves me tasteless for the rest of the day, I get a phone call from Boss, who in a hangover tone in forms me that the quote for the $1.5Million project that’s not due for 2 weeks must be done today by 10am. Gee, and I thought the coffee hurt. I get to work, and wake up my sales guys in New Mexico early (6am there time) and tell them to call all there friends with shovels and cement experience, and can put together an erector set. At 8am, I called all the contractors and electronics supply people I knew in the area, and got quotes, and called them in to Boss as they came into me. It was done, I pulled it off at 10:01am, was the end of the last phone call, and all the paper work was faxed by 10:27am, I am that freaking good. Sure I went over, but hell, you try and do it. A huge pat on the back, and some more coffee, and a bullshit safety meeting, in which our 61 year old full time female safety coordinator (Bags, we shall call her), who is a failed trophy wife (made the cut, but was divorced for a 20’s something blonde, at 50 years old) and still dresses like Britney Spears, tried to get me to shut up with my sarcastic comments. The freaking safety meeting was about ‘Excuses in the Work Place’ I coulda taught that one damn it, and I voiced my opinion with vigor much to the entertainment of the Wrench Turners, and Nylons. In Classic Sarge style I totally ignored that she was talking to me, and started at her until she felt stupid/uncomfortable and walked off. Always throw your foe off guard. A variety of random shit happened after that, that was stupid, like trying to find a impossible piece a DB9 male connecter by a DB20 male connector adapter….they don’t make a DB20, someone screwed up. If you know what I am talking about, and read this, and it DOES exists, for the love of god contact me, I need one for a customer who is mentally unstable, but richer than god.
I spent about $234K of the company money on electronics today, that is always fun, god its good to spend money that’s not yours, almost makes you feel cool. The only problem is writing up the spec sheets for this crap, sorting out who it goes to, getting commitments from the customers, and convincing the Bean Counters in purchasing that YES we DO need this, and it is already sold, look I have the F’ing Purchase Order number right here in my freaking had for the company it is going to. Oh yeah and I have to write REALLY clearly as the guy that calls in the orders, (I will explain purchasing later) is literally legally blind.
There is more, and perhaps I will write about it later, but I am very drunk, and if I don’t stop now this damned thing will be 12 pages long, and no one will read the stupid thing. So at that, I bid you farewell dear reader, and thank you for letting me rant, for where it not for this blog, I feel I would be forced to spend my time, drinking my life away, in self imposed chastity without any social skills outside of work and the animal world to speak of….oh wait….
Sarge
Skywalker annoys the living shit out of me. He stopped for one reason or another, taking his meds around thanksgiving. It has now been just long enough for them to work there way outa his system. He has Borderline Personality Disorder, along with a mild case of Schizophrenia, and maybe a touch of oh Dissociative Identity Disorder. This mix, allows him to function, but only if left alone and in a very noisy environment where not much is expected of him, and yet he receives a lot of praise. If its dead silent in a work area, he will hold heated discussions with himself, arguing both points, and then arguing how he stated the subject to begin with…there is more than one person living in Skywalkers head. Let me take you back in time a bit and tell you how Skywalker came to work in my department….
Like all good stories, this one will begin, “No shit there I was” minding my own business, not really noticing the people that worked on the other side of the building far, far away from me, building huge units used to compress gasses in the oil field. There grunts (Google it) I am no longer a ‘grunt*’ in the work force, I am somewhere near…I guess you could call it a pied blue and white collar worker. I get dirty when I have to, but I normally just do technical stuff, and play with $4k each computer units. Well, I hear a lot of gossip from the Nylons (the women that work in the office’s somewhat near me, that don’t have enough personality to warrant naming) That this guy Skywalker that worked for the Wrench Turner Side* as a field hand, had gotten kicked out of the whole state of New Mexico (this takes talent). I was immediately impressed, and decided to meet him, little did I know what kinda person Skywalker was. So immediately I sat about on my task to find Skywalker in the mess of denim uniforms and Hispanics that work for us. I didn’t have to look far, the first person that I asked, the WTS Shop Forman who we will call W.R., pointed to a middle aged, 5’10” man sporting a Mohawk hair do, yet clean shaven, with grease smeared all over his body. My first impression was he was an idiot, the disheveled look he had to him, made him appear as if he had the intellect of a nematode. I will admit that I severely underestimated his intelligence, the guy is a genius, although he is so fractured its hard to tell that he is very intelligent its evident when you get him drunk and he starts to slow down his thinking to a point that he is almost, but not quite functional.
Skywalker got kicked outa New Mexico for talking shit about our company, to clients, the clients didn’t like that, and we almost lost a huge contract, oh I would like to add, he didn’t work much, he was to busy bad mouthing our multi-million dollar company to turn his damned wrench. So they set about trying to find something in the shop that Skywalker could do, can he cut metal? Not in a way that’s OSHA compliant, and expedient. Can Skywalker read blueprints? Not without first trying to argue with the drafter, to the point they quit, and somehow the blueprints ended up catching fire (no freaking shit…) and the company had to pay $10k for a whole new stack and a new set of rights to the intellectual property. *side note: We wouldn’t have had to pay much, except a copy fee, but Skywalker pissed off the last draftsman so much that they took all there shit and left.* One thing that Skywalker could do was Reverse Engineer something, fix it, then put it back together, over the period of a year he worked himself out of a job, (two SMALL units, he…wasted time arguing) Skywalker would have been more efficient, its just he cannot remember where anything is once it leaves his hands. He literally re-discovers each and every tool he has, every time he needs it there is a hunt for this tool or that. Once out of a job, and no where to go but the unemployment line, Muscles gave Skywalker to me, he was given to me on Monday and the week went down hill from there.
I put Skywalker to work re-building Barton dry flow meters, its simple, take the crap out, sand blast the box, spray paint the box, screw the crap back in, clean the glass, and BAM done. On a BAD day it takes me about 45-60 minutes to perfectly remanufacture a Barton. On Monday, Skywalker did one Barton, however by the end of the day I knew his life story, and so many random facts I had to drown them out of my mind with the application of heavy amounts of alcohol. Tuesday, I decided to help Skywalker build some Barton’s as he only had one done and needed 10 done by Friday. Tuesday was a busy day for me so I was only able to build 4 Barton’s to give him a hand up, Tuesday’s score? Sarge-4 Skywalker-0. Not quite zero, he might have had one finished but he accidentally destroyed it in the process (don’t ask, it makes me angry) How in the hell do you weld a aluminum box, to a bench you are working on without killing yourself, while sitting on the bench, is a mystery to me, and always will be.
I was mean Tuesday, I yelled a lot during the day using terms I used to use on the FNG’s (Google it) in the army. I remember in a blind rage, yelling something to the term of “What-the-hell-are-you-thinking-the-best-part-of-you-ran-down-the-crack-of-your-mothers-ass. You-have-made-a-f*ing-beliver-out-of-me, up-untill *breath* up-untill-this-point-I-didn’t-belive-in-abortion, but-i-belive-in-retro-abortion-now. You-should-have-been-dropped-on-your-head-more, it-obviously-wasn’t-enough-to-kill-you….” It went on for another 2-3 minutes, and 5-7 breaths, but it gets worse from there.
You see, each Barton is potentially $800 for the company, and each one that is destroyed is $400+ that we lost, as we will have to replace it with a used unit bought from a third party. I left work with a bunch of the Nylons, and some other office hands, to go next door to a bar and drink the thoughts of the day away, also beat my liver, who had been acting up all day mind you, back into submission. At 1830 (630pm, for some) I was called back over to the shop, because The Monkeys had loaded about 3,000lbs worth of valves, and what not’s on the very rear of a 18’ trailer, with the logic of “when we hook it to a truck it will even it out man”. I was mostly drunk by then, and so my aim was off, but I came very close when I threw the rock at one of the Hispanic monkey’s heads. Mind you I had kicked Skywalker outa my shop at around 1725 or so when I went down the street to drowned my evil thoughts. Low and behold, the lights where on in my shop, I have $4 million worth of inventory so it worries me when the lights are on and I am not there, means the security system is deactivated for starters. I sneak up the door, try the knob, good its locked, I can hear movement inside, so I insert my key quietly, and open the door REAL fast and dramatic like. I will give you one guess as to who is sitting there, at a freaking desk reading some stupid paper of some sort that was already on that desk….That’s right ladies and gentlemen, Skywalker is riding the clock for overtime. I yell some more, pounded on things, and threw him the freak out, called Muscles, and told him what I found in my shop, and WHY I am back at the office, and he was not happy either. I locked up again, and went back to drinking. How Skywalker got into my office is still a mystery to me.
This mourning I show up, and get to work early, it was 7am when I clocked in and got my first cup of a very nice, very rich exotic coffee blend they serve at work called ‘Folgers’. At least they got rid of the Dollar Store brand coffee. Right as I take my first overly warm, tongue scalding sip, that leaves me tasteless for the rest of the day, I get a phone call from Boss, who in a hangover tone in forms me that the quote for the $1.5Million project that’s not due for 2 weeks must be done today by 10am. Gee, and I thought the coffee hurt. I get to work, and wake up my sales guys in New Mexico early (6am there time) and tell them to call all there friends with shovels and cement experience, and can put together an erector set. At 8am, I called all the contractors and electronics supply people I knew in the area, and got quotes, and called them in to Boss as they came into me. It was done, I pulled it off at 10:01am, was the end of the last phone call, and all the paper work was faxed by 10:27am, I am that freaking good. Sure I went over, but hell, you try and do it. A huge pat on the back, and some more coffee, and a bullshit safety meeting, in which our 61 year old full time female safety coordinator (Bags, we shall call her), who is a failed trophy wife (made the cut, but was divorced for a 20’s something blonde, at 50 years old) and still dresses like Britney Spears, tried to get me to shut up with my sarcastic comments. The freaking safety meeting was about ‘Excuses in the Work Place’ I coulda taught that one damn it, and I voiced my opinion with vigor much to the entertainment of the Wrench Turners, and Nylons. In Classic Sarge style I totally ignored that she was talking to me, and started at her until she felt stupid/uncomfortable and walked off. Always throw your foe off guard. A variety of random shit happened after that, that was stupid, like trying to find a impossible piece a DB9 male connecter by a DB20 male connector adapter….they don’t make a DB20, someone screwed up. If you know what I am talking about, and read this, and it DOES exists, for the love of god contact me, I need one for a customer who is mentally unstable, but richer than god.
I spent about $234K of the company money on electronics today, that is always fun, god its good to spend money that’s not yours, almost makes you feel cool. The only problem is writing up the spec sheets for this crap, sorting out who it goes to, getting commitments from the customers, and convincing the Bean Counters in purchasing that YES we DO need this, and it is already sold, look I have the F’ing Purchase Order number right here in my freaking had for the company it is going to. Oh yeah and I have to write REALLY clearly as the guy that calls in the orders, (I will explain purchasing later) is literally legally blind.
There is more, and perhaps I will write about it later, but I am very drunk, and if I don’t stop now this damned thing will be 12 pages long, and no one will read the stupid thing. So at that, I bid you farewell dear reader, and thank you for letting me rant, for where it not for this blog, I feel I would be forced to spend my time, drinking my life away, in self imposed chastity without any social skills outside of work and the animal world to speak of….oh wait….
Sarge
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