OPEN BAR: I see you've come to PD. I too like to live dangerously

[Cain]

Cain, which plot reveal did you mean? Now I'd take all the twee going just to hurry this shit to some kind of closure.

Golden Company/Young Griff.  It's fairytale as fuck.  And, as far as I can see, makes no sense.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Filthy Assistant is butthurt.  He is butthurt because I called him an "arrogant useless bastard who is two jobs above his competence level".  I called him this because in my absence yesterday, he told my newest guy to cut an airline.  It was isolated, so there was no danger to the technician.

The technician pointed out that he and I had walked the airline out and discovered that cutting it would remove compressed air service to half the lab.  No, wait, he TRIED to say that, but Filthy Assistant hollered at him that he had "mapped it out".  So the new technician, not knowing the deal (ie, nobody is allowed to listen to Filthy Assistant) cut the line. 

Later that night, it was time to dump wastewater into the sewer, as the holding tank was full.  A sample was taken to the lab, but LO AND BEHOLD, that whole side of the lab had no air.  The plant had to shut down completely, while I had a technician come out in the middle of the night and run a temporary hose into the lab.  The plant doesn't like to shut down.  Even more to the point, it doesn't like to come UP.  So we are still down.

Filthy Assistant tried to leave the blame with new guy.  So I blew up and called him all manner of horrible shit, in front of the entire management team.  Jim just sat there with his jaw hanging open, then tried to cover a smile.  Mike the Engineer was covering a grin, but what HE doesn't know is that I've had enough of HIS shit, too, and I am going to deal with THAT this afternoon.

None of this would have been necessary if I weren't so bitterly disappointed concerning my extra-dimensional luggage.     I would be my normal, cheerful, indulgent self.

[Junkenstein]

Cain - Ah, that one. Yes. On the plus side, it'll probably make a lot more sense in about a year or so. Either way he's pretty doomed. Best guess is just a plot device so someone else gets to kill him in a suitably dramatic fashion after requisite heroic credentials are established.

[P3nT4gR4m]

Filthy Assistant is butthurt.  He is butthurt because I called him an "arrogant useless bastard who is two jobs above his competence level".  I called him this because in my absence yesterday, he told my newest guy to cut an airline.  It was isolated, so there was no danger to the technician.

The technician pointed out that he and I had walked the airline out and discovered that cutting it would remove compressed air service to half the lab.  No, wait, he TRIED to say that, but Filthy Assistant hollered at him that he had "mapped it out".  So the new technician, not knowing the deal (ie, nobody is allowed to listen to Filthy Assistant) cut the line. 

Later that night, it was time to dump wastewater into the sewer, as the holding tank was full.  A sample was taken to the lab, but LO AND BEHOLD, that whole side of the lab had no air.  The plant had to shut down completely, while I had a technician come out in the middle of the night and run a temporary hose into the lab.  The plant doesn't like to shut down.  Even more to the point, it doesn't like to come UP.  So we are still down.

Filthy Assistant tried to leave the blame with new guy.  So I blew up and called him all manner of horrible shit, in front of the entire management team.  Jim just sat there with his jaw hanging open, then tried to cover a smile.  Mike the Engineer was covering a grin, but what HE doesn't know is that I've had enough of HIS shit, too, and I am going to deal with THAT this afternoon.

None of this would have been necessary if I weren't so bitterly disappointed concerning my extra-dimensional luggage.     I would be my normal, cheerful, indulgent self.

That luggage has a lot to answer for 

[Ben Shapiro]

Filthy Assistant is butthurt.  He is butthurt because I called him an "arrogant useless bastard who is two jobs above his competence level".  I called him this because in my absence yesterday, he told my newest guy to cut an airline.  It was isolated, so there was no danger to the technician.

The technician pointed out that he and I had walked the airline out and discovered that cutting it would remove compressed air service to half the lab.  No, wait, he TRIED to say that, but Filthy Assistant hollered at him that he had "mapped it out".  So the new technician, not knowing the deal (ie, nobody is allowed to listen to Filthy Assistant) cut the line. 

Later that night, it was time to dump wastewater into the sewer, as the holding tank was full.  A sample was taken to the lab, but LO AND BEHOLD, that whole side of the lab had no air.  The plant had to shut down completely, while I had a technician come out in the middle of the night and run a temporary hose into the lab.  The plant doesn't like to shut down.  Even more to the point, it doesn't like to come UP.  So we are still down.

Filthy Assistant tried to leave the blame with new guy.  So I blew up and called him all manner of horrible shit, in front of the entire management team.  Jim just sat there with his jaw hanging open, then tried to cover a smile.  Mike the Engineer was covering a grin, but what HE doesn't know is that I've had enough of HIS shit, too, and I am going to deal with THAT this afternoon.

None of this would have been necessary if I weren't so bitterly disappointed concerning my extra-dimensional luggage.     I would be my normal, cheerful, indulgent self.

That poor poor luggage.

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

Filthy Assistant is butthurt.  He is butthurt because I called him an "arrogant useless bastard who is two jobs above his competence level".  I called him this because in my absence yesterday, he told my newest guy to cut an airline.  It was isolated, so there was no danger to the technician.

The technician pointed out that he and I had walked the airline out and discovered that cutting it would remove compressed air service to half the lab.  No, wait, he TRIED to say that, but Filthy Assistant hollered at him that he had "mapped it out".  So the new technician, not knowing the deal (ie, nobody is allowed to listen to Filthy Assistant) cut the line. 

Later that night, it was time to dump wastewater into the sewer, as the holding tank was full.  A sample was taken to the lab, but LO AND BEHOLD, that whole side of the lab had no air.  The plant had to shut down completely, while I had a technician come out in the middle of the night and run a temporary hose into the lab.  The plant doesn't like to shut down.  Even more to the point, it doesn't like to come UP.  So we are still down.

Filthy Assistant tried to leave the blame with new guy.  So I blew up and called him all manner of horrible shit, in front of the entire management team.  Jim just sat there with his jaw hanging open, then tried to cover a smile.  Mike the Engineer was covering a grin, but what HE doesn't know is that I've had enough of HIS shit, too, and I am going to deal with THAT this afternoon.

None of this would have been necessary if I weren't so bitterly disappointed concerning my extra-dimensional luggage.     I would be my normal, cheerful, indulgent self.

Wow. That's special. Let it out, Roger. Let it out. You don't want to leave anything undone when you pass over to the Other Dimension and rain down fire and vindaloo. You don't want to leave any loose ends for Other Roger to tie up before he starts his reign.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

If I were GRRM I'd be burned out by all the bullshit 'fans' and the crap they come up with, by now. Writing is a creative process and it's hard to be creative when people are shitting on you or screaming at you all the time, in the name of 'appreciating' your work. And not only even all of your work, just one facet that has caught on. And fuck you if you do anything else, at all, ever. It doesn't matter anymore because it belongs to them, not you. And by God, fuck you in the face with a hatchet if you get in the way of the fans' next fix.

I can't imagine why more artists aren't jumping on this joyride of win.

Yeah, it seems like fairly thankless work, and god forbid you write something that doesn't satisfy your fans' need for entertainment; they'll crucify you for not being as entertaining as you used to be, because you owe them.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Filthy Assistant is butthurt.  He is butthurt because I called him an "arrogant useless bastard who is two jobs above his competence level".  I called him this because in my absence yesterday, he told my newest guy to cut an airline.  It was isolated, so there was no danger to the technician.

The technician pointed out that he and I had walked the airline out and discovered that cutting it would remove compressed air service to half the lab.  No, wait, he TRIED to say that, but Filthy Assistant hollered at him that he had "mapped it out".  So the new technician, not knowing the deal (ie, nobody is allowed to listen to Filthy Assistant) cut the line. 

Later that night, it was time to dump wastewater into the sewer, as the holding tank was full.  A sample was taken to the lab, but LO AND BEHOLD, that whole side of the lab had no air.  The plant had to shut down completely, while I had a technician come out in the middle of the night and run a temporary hose into the lab.  The plant doesn't like to shut down.  Even more to the point, it doesn't like to come UP.  So we are still down.

Filthy Assistant tried to leave the blame with new guy.  So I blew up and called him all manner of horrible shit, in front of the entire management team.  Jim just sat there with his jaw hanging open, then tried to cover a smile.  Mike the Engineer was covering a grin, but what HE doesn't know is that I've had enough of HIS shit, too, and I am going to deal with THAT this afternoon.

None of this would have been necessary if I weren't so bitterly disappointed concerning my extra-dimensional luggage.     I would be my normal, cheerful, indulgent self.

You should include "Do not follow instructions from Filthy Assistant" in your hiring contract.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I used to shit on GRRM because fuck, how many years between books?

Then I wrote LOBB and now LDW.  And I am suddenly feeling a lot more tolerant.   

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Filthy Assistant is butthurt.  He is butthurt because I called him an "arrogant useless bastard who is two jobs above his competence level".  I called him this because in my absence yesterday, he told my newest guy to cut an airline.  It was isolated, so there was no danger to the technician.

The technician pointed out that he and I had walked the airline out and discovered that cutting it would remove compressed air service to half the lab.  No, wait, he TRIED to say that, but Filthy Assistant hollered at him that he had "mapped it out".  So the new technician, not knowing the deal (ie, nobody is allowed to listen to Filthy Assistant) cut the line. 

Later that night, it was time to dump wastewater into the sewer, as the holding tank was full.  A sample was taken to the lab, but LO AND BEHOLD, that whole side of the lab had no air.  The plant had to shut down completely, while I had a technician come out in the middle of the night and run a temporary hose into the lab.  The plant doesn't like to shut down.  Even more to the point, it doesn't like to come UP.  So we are still down.

Filthy Assistant tried to leave the blame with new guy.  So I blew up and called him all manner of horrible shit, in front of the entire management team.  Jim just sat there with his jaw hanging open, then tried to cover a smile.  Mike the Engineer was covering a grin, but what HE doesn't know is that I've had enough of HIS shit, too, and I am going to deal with THAT this afternoon.

None of this would have been necessary if I weren't so bitterly disappointed concerning my extra-dimensional luggage.     I would be my normal, cheerful, indulgent self.

Wow. That's special. Let it out, Roger. Let it out. You don't want to leave anything undone when you pass over to the Other Dimension and rain down fire and vindaloo. You don't want to leave any loose ends for Other Roger to tie up before he starts his reign.

I think I'd just get stuck in a causual loop. Forever.  So, like any other day in Tucson.

But the rest of you should look.  There's no paradox if YOU look.  It's probably really cool.  Shiny, perhaps.  Like maybe the shiny gold on the helmet visor of a suit of battle armor, as you look into the bag and maybe Alex looks back.  And though you can't see through the visor, you can feel the GRIN.  The happy, happy GRIN.

It's like the wardrobe that leads to Narnia.  Only it's a gym bag that leads to the Tucson that lives in my head.  But there's no friendly lion.  No.  It's more like a javalina on amphetamines, and he is NOT full of pleasant homilies and good advice.  No, he wants to BITE AND BITE AND BITE.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I used to shit on GRRM because fuck, how many years between books?

Then I wrote LOBB and now LDW.  And I am suddenly feeling a lot more tolerant.   

That's something weird about the entertainment industry dynamic, isn't it? Being entertainingly creative isn't really all that easy, but if it's something you happen to be good at, you sort of become a possession of the public, because you have something they WANT. To CONSUME.

CREATE, CREATIVE MONKEY! CREATE! HOW DARE YOU NOT CREATE ON MY SCHEDULE AND UP TO MY STANDARDS? I WANT IT!

[Luna]

So...  Notification has finally arrived.  I am still gainfully employed, through the end of July.  During the next 60 days, it is my job to attempt to transfer the payroll of 62 locations to Dallas.  They're apparently planning to do this in three waves.  Rather than using our homebrewed, actually reasonably functional (for a cobbled-together excuse for a timeclock system) automated system (which, when people, particularly managers, actually do their goddamn jobs on schedule, doesn't give me ulcers), they're apparently changing all of our stores to THEIR system.  Said system is, apparently, the manger sits down at the end of the week with his employees and asks, "okay, what did you do this week?"

I figure the managers are going to be bailing at a truly amazing rate.

When their payroll department realizes that the employee report sent over two weeks ago, while valid at the time, now has very little relationship to reality, I figure somebody is going out a window.  (The auto repair industry has what I consider a stunning amount of turnover.  Guys come, work for a month or two, and move on.  And we're not even going to get into the volume of child support orders I handle on a weekly basis.  Not just 'how many orders a week,' but "what, ANOTHER order for this guy?  Doesn't he know how to keep his damn pants zipped?"

Anyway...  I get the joy of transferring confidential records from here to Dallas, in some obscure order decided by somebody who knows shit about doing payrolls.  Then they let me go, right before my scheduled vacation.

My big plan involves calling my old temp agency, telling them when I'm available for interviews and to begin work, and see what happens.

I should be stressed.  I should be freaking out.  I'm not, and I have no idea why.

[Trivial]

Cain, which plot reveal did you mean? Now I'd take all the twee going just to hurry this shit to some kind of closure.

Golden Company/Young Griff.  It's fairytale as fuck.  And, as far as I can see, makes no sense.

It ties to the scene in the House of the Undying, but I was annoyed about that, should have shown up earlier in the series.

[Richter]

So...  Notification has finally arrived.  I am still gainfully employed, through the end of July.  During the next 60 days, it is my job to attempt to transfer the payroll of 62 locations to Dallas.  They're apparently planning to do this in three waves.  Rather than using our homebrewed, actually reasonably functional (for a cobbled-together excuse for a timeclock system) automated system (which, when people, particularly managers, actually do their goddamn jobs on schedule, doesn't give me ulcers), they're apparently changing all of our stores to THEIR system.  Said system is, apparently, the manger sits down at the end of the week with his employees and asks, "okay, what did you do this week?"

I figure the managers are going to be bailing at a truly amazing rate.

When their payroll department realizes that the employee report sent over two weeks ago, while valid at the time, now has very little relationship to reality, I figure somebody is going out a window.  (The auto repair industry has what I consider a stunning amount of turnover.  Guys come, work for a month or two, and move on.  And we're not even going to get into the volume of child support orders I handle on a weekly basis.  Not just 'how many orders a week,' but "what, ANOTHER order for this guy?  Doesn't he know how to keep his damn pants zipped?"

Anyway...  I get the joy of transferring confidential records from here to Dallas, in some obscure order decided by somebody who knows shit about doing payrolls.  Then they let me go, right before my scheduled vacation.

My big plan involves calling my old temp agency, telling them when I'm available for interviews and to begin work, and see what happens.

I should be stressed.  I should be freaking out.  I'm not, and I have no idea why.

"After a few hurricanes you know when to panic, and when to relax and find a drink." - Ars Richterra, chapter 4

[Suu]

So...  Notification has finally arrived.  I am still gainfully employed, through the end of July.  During the next 60 days, it is my job to attempt to transfer the payroll of 62 locations to Dallas.  They're apparently planning to do this in three waves.  Rather than using our homebrewed, actually reasonably functional (for a cobbled-together excuse for a timeclock system) automated system (which, when people, particularly managers, actually do their goddamn jobs on schedule, doesn't give me ulcers), they're apparently changing all of our stores to THEIR system.  Said system is, apparently, the manger sits down at the end of the week with his employees and asks, "okay, what did you do this week?"

I figure the managers are going to be bailing at a truly amazing rate.

When their payroll department realizes that the employee report sent over two weeks ago, while valid at the time, now has very little relationship to reality, I figure somebody is going out a window.  (The auto repair industry has what I consider a stunning amount of turnover.  Guys come, work for a month or two, and move on.  And we're not even going to get into the volume of child support orders I handle on a weekly basis.  Not just 'how many orders a week,' but "what, ANOTHER order for this guy?  Doesn't he know how to keep his damn pants zipped?"

Anyway...  I get the joy of transferring confidential records from here to Dallas, in some obscure order decided by somebody who knows shit about doing payrolls.  Then they let me go, right before my scheduled vacation.

My big plan involves calling my old temp agency, telling them when I'm available for interviews and to begin work, and see what happens.

I should be stressed.  I should be freaking out.  I'm not, and I have no idea why.

"After a few hurricanes you know when to panic, and when to relax and find a drink." - Ars Richterra, chapter 4

This.
You just leveled up. Really. Once you accept the proper level of shit that happens to you on a regular basis, it's no longer stressful or worrisome, it's another notch on the goddamn bedpost.

I had the same breakthrough last month trying to understand how the Department of Defense works. The truth is that they don't. It took me a lot of tears until I got to the laughs though, but once you're on the other side, EVERYTHING IS FUCKING HILARIOUS.