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OPEN BAR: Tough on bars, tough on the causes of bars

Started by Cain, November 10, 2015, 12:36:46 AM

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Junkenstein

Quote from: Cain on December 15, 2015, 04:25:51 AM
Since I'll be working alone come January 6th, I'm spending a thrilling time on the "totally not self-defense weapons, just novelty items" section of Amazon.

I wonder if I can bill the company for a camping knife and tungsten steel tactical pen?  It is a work related expense...

You Sir!

Worried about carrying a knife in London?

Know that a pen will get lost stolen in minutes?

Still need the ability to BEAT A MOTHERFUCKER if required?


Then you need to step into times where weaponry was a little more subtle. Like this:



Simple, easily disposable and as effective as you'd like it to be.
Nine naked Men just walking down the road will cause a heap of trouble for all concerned.

Meunster

There's a durracell slogan joke in there somewhere
Poe's law ;)

The Good Reverend Roger

So, the Happy Families bubble burst today, and I am pleased to report that my employees are actually just as fucked up as everyone else.

Most of them are going on vacation next Monday, and they suddenly all decided they had to get "their side of the story" in with the new boss.  But the new boss doesn't care.  Half of them are cheating on their spouses with coworkers.  I don't care.  The other half are overly concerned about said cheating.  This also doesn't register as important.  I have seen where this goes, and it's a horrible snarl of twisted priorities, but I don't give a shit.

It's really this simple.  We fix the domes.  We get the brain-eating amoebas out of the water.  We clean up after semifunctional scientists and ancient docents.  We don't run tourists over.  It's not calculus.

I am not bitching, mind you.  I am actually quite relieved, as things seemed just a little too good to be true, and now it's way more human.
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.

The Good Reverend Roger

It also occurs to me that the last set of slanders I did, where people were inside or outside of the dome, was just more prophecy.
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.

Trivial

In a facebook group where we yammer on about religion, and this one guy is seriously obsessed in an unhealthy way about muslims.  Today he used the line "I keep an open mind I'm a scientist" about a biblical prophecy.

I was intrigued, what science?  I expected an engineer of some sort, for some reason people that claim science while spouting religion are always engineers.

He's the president of his own company.  Apparently he makes a vaping device.  Interesting.

Ph.D.  University of Calgary, Electrical Engineering.  Pow!

Science!


Sexy Octopus of the Next Noosphere Horde

There are more nipples in the world than people.

Pæs

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on December 18, 2015, 01:12:48 AM
So, the Happy Families bubble burst today, and I am pleased to report that my employees are actually just as fucked up as everyone else.

Most of them are going on vacation next Monday, and they suddenly all decided they had to get "their side of the story" in with the new boss.  But the new boss doesn't care.  Half of them are cheating on their spouses with coworkers.  I don't care.  The other half are overly concerned about said cheating.  This also doesn't register as important.  I have seen where this goes, and it's a horrible snarl of twisted priorities, but I don't give a shit.

It's really this simple.  We fix the domes.  We get the brain-eating amoebas out of the water.  We clean up after semifunctional scientists and ancient docents.  We don't run tourists over.  It's not calculus.

I am not bitching, mind you.  I am actually quite relieved, as things seemed just a little too good to be true, and now it's way more human.

Hank shuffled into the room. This was an office, once. Long ago, before the Roger times came. Hank remembered an office here some time last month. Now it was a labyrinth of manuals and schematics. Hank couldn't believe there was anywhere enough equipment to justify this much paper. Not in the complex. Not in the state.

He had been hesitant to come in, really. Davis had come in with a welcome and a gift basket earlier in the day and nobody had seen him since. He'd probably gone home. Must have gone home. But it didn't sit right. No, Hank hadn't wanted to come in but he felt it was morally imperative that the new boss know the score.

The room seemed empty. Gradually accepting that Roger wasn't in, Hank let his attention drift to the annotated schematics covering the floors and walls and found that he had trouble parsing them. He narrowed his eyes and moved nearer a document with renewed focus. To his surprise, the content was indecipherable. It was positively arcane and certainly nothing related to any of the equipment he'd ever seen. Paralysed by puzzlement as he was, Hank didn't see Roger emerge from a stack of books until he was upon him, pinning the puzzled engineer to the wall and disturbing the new wallpaper, sending robot pin-ups drifting to the floor.

"What is it, man? Is it the domes?"

Hank blinked and stammered, "I... I... no? What? No. The domes are..." He committed to pushing Roger from him indignantly and straightening his clothes but found this commitment didn't translate into anywhere near enough force to make the man budge. Roger's face advanced upon him and Hank became aware that the new boss was wearing a jeweller's monocle, giving an eerie, inquisitive edge to his stare.

"The domes are..? You were saying about the domes?"

Hank stared in terror. "No, I... well, that is. I thought you should know about what's going on between Laura and James and Karen." He had meant to be more tactful, but circumstances had not allowed for that. Roger released him and turned away dismissively, appearing to immediately lose interest. He took a couple of steps away before pausing and looking back "And you're certain there's nothing about the domes?" The new boss's glare was chilling. "You certainly wouldn't keep anything from me if it were about the domes?"

Hank shook his head desperately. Roger glared a moment longer then nodded his acceptance. "Very well. Back to work. There's no place like dome." His lips twitched a brief smile at the last sentence. Roger gestured to his desk, upon which a gift basket sat. "Help yourself to a little treat on your way out, for your excellent work."

Hank's blood ran cold. Not at the sight of the gift basket, but at the only other non-paper item atop the desk.

Holding down the corner of a diagram of the facility, functioning as a paperweight, were Davis's car keys.

Cain


Vanadium Gryllz

So yesterday I visited the University of Limerick where some dudes in a basement (They have a wind tunnel! (I didn't get to play with it.)) are prototyping fibre-reinforced plastic manhole covers.

The reason I was there is that I work for the company who manufactures the liquid resin component that is combined with the glass to eventually become a solid object. I work in the Technical Service department which basically means I try to solve customer's problems if and when they encounter them.

Upon landing in Shannon (home to the world's first Duty Free!) and being picked up by the local sales manager he warned me that the timescales of academia may not be quite as fast as I have become used to in the world of work. No matter, I thought - our resin only takes half an hour to cure and we've got all day...

We made one part exactly how they'd been making all the others. Unsurprisingly it displayed the same problem. Then it was time for lunch and a walk around campus for some reason.

By the time we had returned to the lab, finished discussing the new and (hopefully) improved reinforcement stack, re-discussed it with the owner of the company sponsoring the research, who had just arrived, and loaded it in the mould it was too late to make a second part.

Then I flew home.

I will find out today whether my improvements have improved things.
"I was fine until my skin came off.  I'm never going to South Attelboro again."

Faust

Awesome, Is that 3d printed resin, or a cast component?

Did you get to walk around the campus much? It's been a few years since I've gotten to visit UL but I loved walking around there.

To be honest getting that much done in a day in academia here is surprising enough.
Sleepless nights at the chateau

Vanadium Gryllz

It's cast thermoset resin - the liquid (polyester based) resin is initiated with a peroxide and injected into the mould cavity under pressure (hence the bolts).

The campus was nice - reminded me of Leeds and a lot of other universities built in the ~70s with those metal+glass buildings. The river that goes through campus was heavily flooded so it was fun going on the bridge and watching it rushing underneath.

It was more productive than my last trip to Ireland where I arrived at the customer to find out they'd got a mould made out of wood by one of their workers who said he knew what he was doing. He didn't.

"I was fine until my skin came off.  I'm never going to South Attelboro again."

LMNO

Quote from: Pæs on December 18, 2015, 08:31:56 AM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on December 18, 2015, 01:12:48 AM
So, the Happy Families bubble burst today, and I am pleased to report that my employees are actually just as fucked up as everyone else.

Most of them are going on vacation next Monday, and they suddenly all decided they had to get "their side of the story" in with the new boss.  But the new boss doesn't care.  Half of them are cheating on their spouses with coworkers.  I don't care.  The other half are overly concerned about said cheating.  This also doesn't register as important.  I have seen where this goes, and it's a horrible snarl of twisted priorities, but I don't give a shit.

It's really this simple.  We fix the domes.  We get the brain-eating amoebas out of the water.  We clean up after semifunctional scientists and ancient docents.  We don't run tourists over.  It's not calculus.

I am not bitching, mind you.  I am actually quite relieved, as things seemed just a little too good to be true, and now it's way more human.

Hank shuffled into the room. This was an office, once. Long ago, before the Roger times came. Hank remembered an office here some time last month. Now it was a labyrinth of manuals and schematics. Hank couldn't believe there was anywhere enough equipment to justify this much paper. Not in the complex. Not in the state.

He had been hesitant to come in, really. Davis had come in with a welcome and a gift basket earlier in the day and nobody had seen him since. He'd probably gone home. Must have gone home. But it didn't sit right. No, Hank hadn't wanted to come in but he felt it was morally imperative that the new boss know the score.

The room seemed empty. Gradually accepting that Roger wasn't in, Hank let his attention drift to the annotated schematics covering the floors and walls and found that he had trouble parsing them. He narrowed his eyes and moved nearer a document with renewed focus. To his surprise, the content was indecipherable. It was positively arcane and certainly nothing related to any of the equipment he'd ever seen. Paralysed by puzzlement as he was, Hank didn't see Roger emerge from a stack of books until he was upon him, pinning the puzzled engineer to the wall and disturbing the new wallpaper, sending robot pin-ups drifting to the floor.

"What is it, man? Is it the domes?"

Hank blinked and stammered, "I... I... no? What? No. The domes are..." He committed to pushing Roger from him indignantly and straightening his clothes but found this commitment didn't translate into anywhere near enough force to make the man budge. Roger's face advanced upon him and Hank became aware that the new boss was wearing a jeweller's monocle, giving an eerie, inquisitive edge to his stare.

"The domes are..? You were saying about the domes?"

Hank stared in terror. "No, I... well, that is. I thought you should know about what's going on between Laura and James and Karen." He had meant to be more tactful, but circumstances had not allowed for that. Roger released him and turned away dismissively, appearing to immediately lose interest. He took a couple of steps away before pausing and looking back "And you're certain there's nothing about the domes?" The new boss's glare was chilling. "You certainly wouldn't keep anything from me if it were about the domes?"

Hank shook his head desperately. Roger glared a moment longer then nodded his acceptance. "Very well. Back to work. There's no place like dome." His lips twitched a brief smile at the last sentence. Roger gestured to his desk, upon which a gift basket sat. "Help yourself to a little treat on your way out, for your excellent work."

Hank's blood ran cold. Not at the sight of the gift basket, but at the only other non-paper item atop the desk.

Holding down the corner of a diagram of the facility, functioning as a paperweight, were Davis's car keys.

:potd:

trippinprincezz13

Quote from: Pæs on December 18, 2015, 08:31:56 AM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on December 18, 2015, 01:12:48 AM
So, the Happy Families bubble burst today, and I am pleased to report that my employees are actually just as fucked up as everyone else.

Most of them are going on vacation next Monday, and they suddenly all decided they had to get "their side of the story" in with the new boss.  But the new boss doesn't care.  Half of them are cheating on their spouses with coworkers.  I don't care.  The other half are overly concerned about said cheating.  This also doesn't register as important.  I have seen where this goes, and it's a horrible snarl of twisted priorities, but I don't give a shit.

It's really this simple.  We fix the domes.  We get the brain-eating amoebas out of the water.  We clean up after semifunctional scientists and ancient docents.  We don't run tourists over.  It's not calculus.

I am not bitching, mind you.  I am actually quite relieved, as things seemed just a little too good to be true, and now it's way more human.

Hank shuffled into the room. This was an office, once. Long ago, before the Roger times came. Hank remembered an office here some time last month. Now it was a labyrinth of manuals and schematics. Hank couldn't believe there was anywhere enough equipment to justify this much paper. Not in the complex. Not in the state.

He had been hesitant to come in, really. Davis had come in with a welcome and a gift basket earlier in the day and nobody had seen him since. He'd probably gone home. Must have gone home. But it didn't sit right. No, Hank hadn't wanted to come in but he felt it was morally imperative that the new boss know the score.

The room seemed empty. Gradually accepting that Roger wasn't in, Hank let his attention drift to the annotated schematics covering the floors and walls and found that he had trouble parsing them. He narrowed his eyes and moved nearer a document with renewed focus. To his surprise, the content was indecipherable. It was positively arcane and certainly nothing related to any of the equipment he'd ever seen. Paralysed by puzzlement as he was, Hank didn't see Roger emerge from a stack of books until he was upon him, pinning the puzzled engineer to the wall and disturbing the new wallpaper, sending robot pin-ups drifting to the floor.

"What is it, man? Is it the domes?"

Hank blinked and stammered, "I... I... no? What? No. The domes are..." He committed to pushing Roger from him indignantly and straightening his clothes but found this commitment didn't translate into anywhere near enough force to make the man budge. Roger's face advanced upon him and Hank became aware that the new boss was wearing a jeweller's monocle, giving an eerie, inquisitive edge to his stare.

"The domes are..? You were saying about the domes?"

Hank stared in terror. "No, I... well, that is. I thought you should know about what's going on between Laura and James and Karen." He had meant to be more tactful, but circumstances had not allowed for that. Roger released him and turned away dismissively, appearing to immediately lose interest. He took a couple of steps away before pausing and looking back "And you're certain there's nothing about the domes?" The new boss's glare was chilling. "You certainly wouldn't keep anything from me if it were about the domes?"

Hank shook his head desperately. Roger glared a moment longer then nodded his acceptance. "Very well. Back to work. There's no place like dome." His lips twitched a brief smile at the last sentence. Roger gestured to his desk, upon which a gift basket sat. "Help yourself to a little treat on your way out, for your excellent work."

Hank's blood ran cold. Not at the sight of the gift basket, but at the only other non-paper item atop the desk.

Holding down the corner of a diagram of the facility, functioning as a paperweight, were Davis's car keys.

:lulz: :mittens:
There's no sun shine coming through her ass, if you are sure of your penis.

Paranoia is a disease unto itself, and may I add, the person standing next to you, may not be who they appear to be, so take precaution.

If there is no order in your sexual life it may be difficult to stay with a whole skin.

Eater of Clowns

Quote from: Pippa Twiddleton on December 22, 2012, 01:06:36 AM
EoC, you are the bane of my existence.

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on March 07, 2014, 01:18:23 AM
EoC doesn't make creepy.

EoC makes creepy worse.

Quote
the afflicted persons get hold of and consume carrots even in socially quite unacceptable situations.

The Wizard Joseph

Quote from: Junkenstein on December 17, 2015, 08:04:28 PM
Quote from: Cain on December 15, 2015, 04:25:51 AM
Since I'll be working alone come January 6th, I'm spending a thrilling time on the "totally not self-defense weapons, just novelty items" section of Amazon.

I wonder if I can bill the company for a camping knife and tungsten steel tactical pen?  It is a work related expense...

You Sir!

Worried about carrying a knife in London?

Know that a pen will get lost stolen in minutes?

Still need the ability to BEAT A MOTHERFUCKER if required?


Then you need to step into times where weaponry was a little more subtle. Like this:



Simple, easily disposable and as effective as you'd like it to be.

Yes, this. My recommendation is a quality silk sock and wet it if possible. Not only is it classy, but effective flailing is all about tensile strength! This actually comes up in one of my unwritten Wizard tales.

I really wish the act of writing came more easily to me. For those interested I'm going to try to get more of "The Assault on Christmas" out this weekend.
You can't get out backward.  You have to go forward to go back.. better press on! - Willie Wonka, PBUH

Life can be seen as a game with no reset button, no extra lives, and if the power goes out there is no restarting.  If that's all you see life as you are not long for this world, and never will get it.

"Ayn Rand never swung a hammer in her life and had serious dominance issues" - The Fountainhead

"World domination is such an ugly phrase. I prefer to call it world optimisation."
- Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality :lulz:

"You program the controller to do the thing, only it doesn't do the thing.  It does something else entirely, or nothing at all.  It's like voting."
- Billy, Aug 21st, 2019

"It's not even chaos anymore. It's BANAL."
- Doktor Hamish Howl

President Television

Quote from: Pæs on December 18, 2015, 08:31:56 AM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on December 18, 2015, 01:12:48 AM
So, the Happy Families bubble burst today, and I am pleased to report that my employees are actually just as fucked up as everyone else.

Most of them are going on vacation next Monday, and they suddenly all decided they had to get "their side of the story" in with the new boss.  But the new boss doesn't care.  Half of them are cheating on their spouses with coworkers.  I don't care.  The other half are overly concerned about said cheating.  This also doesn't register as important.  I have seen where this goes, and it's a horrible snarl of twisted priorities, but I don't give a shit.

It's really this simple.  We fix the domes.  We get the brain-eating amoebas out of the water.  We clean up after semifunctional scientists and ancient docents.  We don't run tourists over.  It's not calculus.

I am not bitching, mind you.  I am actually quite relieved, as things seemed just a little too good to be true, and now it's way more human.

Hank shuffled into the room. This was an office, once. Long ago, before the Roger times came. Hank remembered an office here some time last month. Now it was a labyrinth of manuals and schematics. Hank couldn't believe there was anywhere enough equipment to justify this much paper. Not in the complex. Not in the state.

He had been hesitant to come in, really. Davis had come in with a welcome and a gift basket earlier in the day and nobody had seen him since. He'd probably gone home. Must have gone home. But it didn't sit right. No, Hank hadn't wanted to come in but he felt it was morally imperative that the new boss know the score.

The room seemed empty. Gradually accepting that Roger wasn't in, Hank let his attention drift to the annotated schematics covering the floors and walls and found that he had trouble parsing them. He narrowed his eyes and moved nearer a document with renewed focus. To his surprise, the content was indecipherable. It was positively arcane and certainly nothing related to any of the equipment he'd ever seen. Paralysed by puzzlement as he was, Hank didn't see Roger emerge from a stack of books until he was upon him, pinning the puzzled engineer to the wall and disturbing the new wallpaper, sending robot pin-ups drifting to the floor.

"What is it, man? Is it the domes?"

Hank blinked and stammered, "I... I... no? What? No. The domes are..." He committed to pushing Roger from him indignantly and straightening his clothes but found this commitment didn't translate into anywhere near enough force to make the man budge. Roger's face advanced upon him and Hank became aware that the new boss was wearing a jeweller's monocle, giving an eerie, inquisitive edge to his stare.

"The domes are..? You were saying about the domes?"

Hank stared in terror. "No, I... well, that is. I thought you should know about what's going on between Laura and James and Karen." He had meant to be more tactful, but circumstances had not allowed for that. Roger released him and turned away dismissively, appearing to immediately lose interest. He took a couple of steps away before pausing and looking back "And you're certain there's nothing about the domes?" The new boss's glare was chilling. "You certainly wouldn't keep anything from me if it were about the domes?"

Hank shook his head desperately. Roger glared a moment longer then nodded his acceptance. "Very well. Back to work. There's no place like dome." His lips twitched a brief smile at the last sentence. Roger gestured to his desk, upon which a gift basket sat. "Help yourself to a little treat on your way out, for your excellent work."

Hank's blood ran cold. Not at the sight of the gift basket, but at the only other non-paper item atop the desk.

Holding down the corner of a diagram of the facility, functioning as a paperweight, were Davis's car keys.

SLOW DOWN... IN THE DOME ZONE...
My shit list: Stephen Harper, anarchists that complain about taxes instead of institutionalized torture, those people walking, anyone who lets a single aspect of themselves define their entire personality, salesmen that don't smoke pipes, Fredericton New Brunswick, bigots, philosophy majors, my nemesis, pirates that don't do anything, criminals without class, sociopaths, narcissists, furries, juggalos, foes.