At around 9:30am, I overhead the skin-head sneeze aloud.
He said to two other “managers”: “I’m allergic to morons”. That means he doesn’t like Mormons.
I mumbled under my breath: “How about losers?” You see, by default, being a moron means being a loser.
Anyway, he continued to spew nonsense as I overhead the words “puppet masters”.
Then I got up and eyed the Tess about the skin-head as I went off to get my chocolate drink.
After “freshening up” at the restroom from this afternoon’s lunch outing, I reviewed my voicemail message. The time stamp was 1:23pm today. The voice is the same. The frequency is better. Their hard work is sincere.
“Everything is going great.” said the fat bastard. He sounded friendlier. After all, I left a friendly message of greeting to him and his family on Valentine’s Day. It’s all I could to at this point in time to “keep the peace.”
I noticed that he mentioned a double digit number one for 11 and the number 3. It must be the “fellow brothers” saying: “Hello!” I really don’t understand other than I still have my promises and obligations to fulfill.
That’s how one is supposed to maintain friendship. Just remembering the person in surprising and thoughful ways can uplift the heart. Visiting frequently is sometimes good although inconvient for some. Sending cards, letters, gifts also reminds the recipient that someone can be called a friend.
So, JenJen has left her desk at around 11:33am. At 10:33am, she came back from her early-morning break. Do you think I could trust her? Nah! I don’t care if the employed pussheads here read my blog entries. I notice too that Hoan keeps walking around my desk area. He just asked if I’m going to the place. But I wouldn’t give him an answer. It appears that he is looking for a ride but it’s not my problem to haul his stinky-smelly butt.
En route homebound, I made the usual right turn into my drive. But a big, black, outdated Camero with those shiny, five-spoke wheels, was being pushed by a white kid from the rue behind him, in the MIDDLE of MY road and past my drive.
He was wearing black — cap, top, jeans and shoes. His hair color appears to be dark auburn. His girlfriend was “manning” behind the wheels. She had long brunette hair.
Of course, I was humoring myself and hollared: “Do you need help?”
He smiled, mumbled something and continued to push the heavy vehicle with his skinny body. Then he hopped into the drivers seat and tried starting his dead car. It choked once and died. It choked a second time and took some gas. Then the third choke it sputtered off down my drive.
All the while, I was pulling out my two black shoes, a paper bag of two plates, my usual lunch bag used by Paw during his meal at the USPS and my floral handbag, which the boy like.
At 12:33pm, JenJen left for lunch. I don’t know if she did it intentionally because she is usually good about leaving around the half hour.
In recent news:
Reporter’s bizarre on-air episode raises questions
By Joe Pompeo
Tue Feb 15, 1:12 pm ET
One of the most memorable performances from Sunday night’s Grammy broadcast was also one of the most terrifying: Serene Branson, an Emmy-nominated CBS entertainment reporter began speaking gibberish during the network’s post-Grammy newscast. However, after initial fears that Branson may have suffered a stroke on-air, she is reportedly doing OK.
—
If you view the video, there appears to be some sort of double blinking around the 1:41-1:42 mark. She was being interviewed. While talking, she looked up to think and then downward when the eyes seem to “shift” upon the closing of her eyelids.
I haven’t heard the audio because I’m at work. All I could assume is that she was shape-shifting when the “gibberish” occurred. Notice too the time stamp of the footage: 11:33 54.
Alas! Earlier this morning, I tried to send the boy a Happy Valentine’s greeting and inform him that his refurbished computer is now dead. But I see that the boy has “unfriend” me from Facebook.com.
That goes to shows his hostility towards us, his relatives and others with problems. His online friends are clueless with his real skin — thick.
Both he and the girl are highly superstitious and avoid people with “bad energy”. This would explain why they and the rest of the ungrateful relatives rarely visit.
People like them try to shield their sanity by creating a protective bubble of lies that everything is fine and dandy without the damn drama of interacting with frustrated people.
What he and my relatives put online are pretty much sharing a part of me, by the way. Good! That means he must have realized how stupid it must be to brag online.
He will receive a dose of his karma — the “bad energy” he created by refusing to correct the errors of his way. Instead, he would rather befriend and fool those with his selfish activities, which do nothing but feed his ego.
I hope he learned through examples by the many teachers he has disregarded — Maw, Alan, and many others.
Two Sundays ago, the boy reported how the U.S. Census for 2010 is really out to get its citizens. When the couple refused to answer any of the questions from and by the mostly hapless volunteers, his next door neighbor was asked if they knew about the occupants living next door to them.
That’s how low the U.S. government would go to get the numbers they want, just to fulfill their quota! That’s right! It’s all about how many FOREIGNERS live in America! That’s right! I’ve said the word: FOREIGNERS! And this is to find out how society should be better managed.
There appears to be too many Filipinos in America, which explains why most VISAs do NOT get approve. And this was from watching, we were watching TV Patrol on local channel number eight last night.
There was a segment discussing how Filipinos were earning US$2.00 in 24 hours as caretakers and what to do about being paid below the minimum wage. But those unreported incidences happen all the time to Filipinos in America by, you guess it, corrupt Filipinos.
And speaking of corruption, the Senate in the Philippines are still grilling the military generals who pocketed the funds of the American taxpayers! That’s right! They bought mansions, gave each other lavish parties, went on vacations and abroad and hide the rest.
One may have even invited Ampy and Ver to eat breakfast at the White House in Philippines. My VERY distant relative is a general by the name of Raul. I wonder if some of my hard-earned, tax-paid American money went to him via the couple and other ungrateful paternal relatives living here in the Bay Area.
Some generals tried to avoid answering questions directly of the Senate. One had a wife whose whereabouts in the American is not known by him. One committed suicide in front of his mother’s grave and other family members.
So if the government thinks of trying to get information from ungrateful fools, such as the boy and that girl, you are mistaken. To Obama and pals: Go check out the puss heads living overseas. That’s right! The Pacific Islanders, Philippines, New Zealand, Australia and pals have taken their last ride on my fried nerves!
During mass this morning, a couple sat down behind my parents, not normally but today they did. They look like ordinary, friendly couples and greeted my parents in the parking lot en route to the church. But my protective, spider-sense would be tingling about the two.
The old lady looks Hawaiian but greeted a normal, burly Mexicano in Spanish. The old guy is Filipino with white hair, too. She is thinner. He is taller. They came to my parents during the Christmas morning celebration and talked. The old lady was very inquisitive of my parents’ background. The old lady didn’t speak Filipino, by the way. You could see her eyeballs barely protruding out — an early sign of thyroid problems.
I got pissed because I expected the two old farts to say to me: “Peace Be With You”. They did to my parents. I mumbled under my breath: “Bitch” when I looked twice to see if she would look but wouldn’t. I flicked her off by scratching behind my right ear. Then when we were turning to line up to receive the Eucharist, she cleared her throat very loudly that I immediately cleared mine loudly, too. Of course, Maw got startled in front of me.
I also was about to scratch my right buttock and flick her off again but controlled myself. As I rounded the far-left aisle of the church, I saw Manong Ben grin at me. He was looking at me sideways to his left. I looked at him and said in my mind: “Crazy people”.
Then I saw a Gook look at me. Usually, these type of people have “strong senses”, too. And she turned around and looked at me long and hard. From her her seven o’clock position, she continued to look at me but gave me second look. I told her in my mind that you’re crazy too and flicked her off with my left finger by scratching my left temple. Her eyes are beady, her face and nose are long and her hair is slightly curly and sheen today but usually disheveled.
So one day, I’d like to proclaim to the former usher that people at my local parish are all nutters! All religious zealots are nutters from fundamentalist Jews, Christians and Islamic forces alike! These people keep praying to the air!
Just as I suspected. The thug(s) failed to call me, by the way. It is already the second week of February and nothing. I’m disappointed in you Pete. Not a day goes by when a mental image of a wide sweeping sword does justice.
And in recent news, it appears that the Egyptian people is free from former Preside Hosni Mubarak, which rhymes with President Barack Obama and looks like Hosin sauce for my favorite Phở (or Vietnamese noodle soup).
‘Egypt is Free,’ crowds chant after Mubarak quits
By MAGGIE MICHAEL and LEE KEATH, Associated Press Maggie Michael And Lee Keath, Associated Press – 26 mins ago
Cries of “Egypt is free” rang out and fireworks lit up the sky as hundreds of thousands danced, wept and prayed in joyful pandemonium Friday after 18 days of peaceful pro-democracy protests forced President Hosni Mubarak to surrender power to the military, ending three decades of authoritarian rule.
For me, this is a merely a distraction and does nothing to get me out of this “temp job from hell”. It is no wonder my “head hunter” has done me a favor by creating a “cabbage patch” here until February 2011. They are waiting for me to say something to the effect.
Of course people within the Santa Clara Valley, all the way to Carlsbad and Los Angeles, know what I’m up against. Go ask the dudes at the Santa Clara Fair Ground. Go ask the dude running an automotive shop near Valley Fair. Go ask anyone in San Mateo, CA. The network is thick.
Thursday’s early morning stentch at 3:00am was suppsed to have been from an alleged road kill. From past the Berryessa Road off ramp going westbound this morning, there lies a dead skunk with it fur still intact but its innards all over the place.
Last night, Maw reported that the odor was so bad that they had to open all the windows to the Benz. Yesterday morning, I used that SAME route to go to work. And there was no sign of road kill. I believe that was planted by TPTB later in the afternoon. I smelled nothing pungent at that time!
I know what I smelled was not skunk and perhaps the fumes from the allged UFO. But Maw in her ususally way, tries to reduce my anxiety and concern. I was pissed because there was no way the smell could have traveled over one mile to a sealed off house. If it was marijuana, I didn’t feel a buzz.
Perhaps the tiny molecules of stinky smelly went through the two default openings of the garage floor and traveled to the rooms upstairs. Whatever the case, the SAME smell should have NOT been that strong during the morning of New Years of the Rabbitt.
To “Coach John”: By trolling my weblog, you too are “crazy”. Why don’t you and the rest of you full-time employed jerks read this morning’s email regarding your company’s “Standard Business of Conduct”? I love how professional the language is presented by these two documents.
As a matter of fact, my “Non-IT Requests” regarding the disruptive noise has not been approved by the facilities manager. Why? Because I’m a contracted worker and no one cares to accommodate our needs. We are merely tools who are kept “busy” until the axe comes down our necks!
Since that OSHA-related issue fell through the cracks yesterday, I sent an email to the manager of the group to see if he could find me a more suitable location away from the slamming back door. So far there is no response, which is typical.
After a few minutes of sending that email, I sent another email to show how he should consider IMPROVING the scheduling process for those dummies who cannot handle Excel spreadsheets. So far there is no response here either.
In light of you losers reading my weblog, take this as a hint: Your activities are being recorded via snapshots as evidence of the workload and auditing purposes, too. There is no need to label someone as “crazy” who knows what it is like to work around morons.
It’s “business as usual”, which has a deeper meaning. So get back to work if you know what is good for you and your company. You are paid to be sheeple, who don’t think except do as your are told or are afraid to complain, like moi. You are a bunch of pretentious liars!
Ever once in awhile the parakeets would scramble inside their cage. Paw reported that the parakeets did just that around 4:15am.
And when we came back from this evening’s Saturday mass and upon entering the house and flicking on a light, I saw the parakeets were clinging to the sides of the cage. I believe they were spooked because the “wooden” vertical blinds were not closed and probably they saw something move outside in the dark or something reflected in the double-paned, acrylic, sliding backdoor.
Later on during dinner, Yeyo, the oldest of five remaining parakeets got spooked. She lunged forward into her son, Buddy-Boy, who lunged forward to the swing in front of him. Yeyo’s eyes, like Binky, were wide open with fright. I don’t know if it was the vitamin supplement liquid or a sign of an earthquake or something else.
I noticed that Yeyo is eating more often. And she got lost upstairs when we came back from this mid-morning’s walk around the park. There were a bunch of slightly over-weight children and a black guy leading them to exercise. Asian children and their elders were playing; while a bunch of guys were playing tennis. We did two circuits in 30 minutes and Maw got tired.