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Messages - Cainad (dec.)

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46
Oh they could get rid of me if they really wanted to, I'm sure. But at this time I still have enough niche expertise that letting me go would be rather inconvenient for them. And I'm liked well enough on a personal level that being too cold-blooded would reflect badly on the person who pulled the trigger.

Still, I'll hit the "three years of experience" mark by the end of this winter. And that's if I don't fuck off before then.

47
Petty work shit is now affecting me, and perhaps I've just been exposed to too many TGRR Mind Lazors in my lifetime, but I have come to two conclusions in the past 24 hours:

1) They're all motherfuckers.
2) They're out to get me.

I was very ill from January until about this past August. During most of that time, my work performance got more shoddy than usual. I tried my level best to ensure that people knew exactly how much work they could get out of me, once I knew what the issue was. I believe that the time I spent being less useful annoyed enough people that the gears have now turned against me.

So now they have hired a fresh young recruit, probably two years younger than me, to replace me without actually replacing me. I was hired with the intention of being mostly a tech geek (GIS, specifically) with the option to do field grunt work when the schedule demanded it. This new guy is full-time GIS, and I have been "shifted" to do more field work. I can also tell that he knows he's here to replace me, and that he feels badly about it. He's not old, bitter, or treacherous enough yet to stick his thumb in my eye.

A majority of our clients are in the boroughs of NYC, and I live on the far eastern end of Long Island. For those unaware, Long Island is named such because it is very fucking long. Normally I would spend my time in the office on Long Island, which has not been a problem. A one-way trip into NYC for me is approximately 2 hours if I leave my house at about 4 AM. But I'm a good sport and willing to put in a little overtime. I get paid for drive time and reimbursed for mileage, after all, so it's not so bad as long as I can find time in the day to, yanno, sleep.

But now I've done all last week and been scheduled for all of this week to drive into Brooklyn for brain-draining oversight jobs. Instead of hiring a body from the city to do city jobs and keep me in my initial capacity, they've put me in a position where I am spending four hours a day on the road, minimum.

Considering the cost of paying me extra hours and mileage, I offered that they could buy me a cheap motel room close to the site. The response I got was a lot more, shall we say, crisp than I had anticipated. There was a lot more in that reply than just the reply. I have been scolded for my unsatisfactory performance.

It's time to put the spit-polish on that resume. Damn shame, really.

48
Techmology and Scientism / Re: Futurism up for discussion.
« on: October 03, 2016, 11:21:03 pm »
All absolute beliefs are stupid.

This sounds like a zenarchist's koan

Only if it's the kind of zen where you get to beat on fuckers with a stick.  Zazzen or some shit like that.

"The Stick of Compassion," as it is known.

Those Zen motherfuckers have a great sense of humor.

49
As long as they hid the skillet well enough your odds are over 30 %.


For 3rd degree burns.

Naw, but what DID happen is that I got a whole-leg cramp in my left leg that seems to have damaged muscle around my left knee and ankle.

You know that water chemistry problem I've been working on?  where it basically rains distilled water and there's no alkalinity?  well, I've been drinking that water this whole time and I seem to have washed out my electrolytes.  Took some mag and potassium, and the cramp evaporated.  But not the insanely sore muscles.  So now I'm stumping around like Igor.

Low-Sodium V8 is my preferred way to get potassium, once I'm sick of shoving bananas into my face. The only downside is, of course, that V8 tastes like a cold salt-marsh puree.

50
RPG Ghetto / Re: Unified Vidya Games thread
« on: September 28, 2016, 02:29:41 am »
Bethesda released their Creative Kills video for Dishonored 2 the other day as well.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KrBJom2VZis

Emily's Domino skill is so damn dirty.  When I saw the E3 gameplay demo, I have to say the potential of that power was pretty exciting to me.  Seems like there's almost no limit to the kind of status effects you can link onto people, push, stun grenades and kills with blades all seem to work just as well.

It appears they've also revamped non-lethal to make it a bit easier and more viable.  The talent trees will apparently have nonlethal options built into them.

I forget were I saw it, but somewhere I think it was stated that Emily has more crowd control abilities because she's royalty and such abilities are thematic for her. Which raises odd questions about why Corvo has the power to eat rats and also summon them to eat people.

51
RPG Ghetto / Re: Unified Vidya Games thread
« on: September 27, 2016, 08:07:40 pm »
Probably a DLC for Daud, if anything at all. Regardless, I am hyped for Dishonored 2. Not many games fill the same niche for me.

52
Beyond the wall / Re: Um, Cramulus??
« on: September 27, 2016, 04:08:03 am »
I had to reset my Uncyclopedia password. That was my primary Internet haunt before PeeDee.

It is, indeed, as dead as I expected it to be.

53
Anyway, hi there PD. I'm here because I'm miserable, cranky, and tired, and according to the newsfeed I'm in the perfect mood for PD.com.

Since getting my thyroid disease treated in August, my range of emotions has expended past "vague sense of dying" that defined the previous six months. I have added feeling sad, stupid, and lonely to the mix.

This too shall pass and all that, but fuck it. I feel like whuppin' on some motherfucker.

Hashimoto's or Grave's?

Welcome to the "My immune system is so fucking badass it's eating my thyroid alive" club.

Grave's. My mom had Hashimoto's, so it figures. My 4-hour iodine uptake rate was 89%, which I understand to be in the "really fucking high, how are you alive" range.

55
Anyway, hi there PD. I'm here because I'm miserable, cranky, and tired, and according to the newsfeed I'm in the perfect mood for PD.com.

Since getting my thyroid disease treated in August, my range of emotions has expended past "vague sense of dying" that defined the previous six months. I have added feeling sad, stupid, and lonely to the mix.

This too shall pass and all that, but fuck it. I feel like whuppin' on some motherfucker.

56
I was confused by Freeky saying that sandwiches aren't all that filling or calorie-rich, but then I remembered not everyone lives in lower NY state. "Sandwiches" in NY are what most places in the world refer to as "what the fuck how is a human supposed to eat this much."

It's like you people don't know how to distend your jaws like snakes, or something.

57
I've never seen the appeal of a happy ending: I love massages, and it doesn't take much to put me into a deep relaxation coma. It's in that state of bliss that I have zero sexual interest in anything.

I know, right?

58
Totally arguable, yes. I'm finding that I don't feel particularly violated or done wrong by, more like I didn't communicate clearly in an awkward situation. And I think anyone in my situation would be well within their rights to consider it sexual assault.

I don't feel all that weird, and that itself is what feels weird. Like, I think I should feel more weird about it but I don't. The sheer clinical precision of it did feel weird though.

At least I'm not currently in a relationship. Then I would feel really bad about it.

59
Hello, gang.
I'm getting married. In three days.  :eek:

Mazel Tov!

60
I could have posted this in Open Bar, but it falls into a level of sordid and inane human experience that I think warrants being cordoned off in its own thread. Not everyone wants to see the icky bits of some jackasses' life story. But this is PD, and some of you freaks revel in that shit, so here we are.

Allow me to frame the scene: there is a massage parlor in a town I used to live in, and I visited it on occasion. I have made regular exercise a part of my life and it seemed like a fair idea to get my stringy muscles tenderized every month or so, if only so that when the aliens from space come to eat us I will be all the more tender and delicious. I'm considerate like that.

Now, this particular massage parlor is staffed, as far as I can tell, entirely by ladies of Asian descent. The sign out front has one of those diagrams of feet with inexplicable pictures of organs on the sole. The more worldly among you will have already deduced what I am getting at here, based on the thread title and the scene I have just described. For those in the back, I will briefly explain: these businesses, usually dubbed "Chinese massage parlors," are somewhat notorious for providing services that can only loosely be described as "massage."

"Jack shacks" would be the more gauche way to describe it.

But I will HAVE YOU KNOW, dear readers, that I am a gentleman of the highest order and that my intentions were pure as the driven snow. My fucking neck hurts sometimes and I like having it kneaded like a French bread every so often, alright? I visited this establishment a half-dozen times while I lived in the area, and I found the services provided to be of good quality, and none of that funny business, in case I haven't made that perfectly clear. Masseurs and masseuses are trained professionals and associating them with jobs that fall outside their scope of work is unseemly and poor behavior. Also, this place was cheap, like really cheap. Very attractive to my wage-earning wallet. I paid for an hour or half-hour of massage as my time allowed, tipped generously (because really, no way the employees are bringing home enough based on that hourly rate), and said "thank you" in Chinese because I am polite and it seemed to amuse the nice ladies.

Fast forward, about three months later. I live very far away from this place now, but it just so happened that it was on my way back from a job site on this particular day. How fortuitous, I thought, because I had tweaked my upper back the night before, and was generally sore from a recent return to regular exercise after a hiatus. Additionally, I was running on about 3 hours of sleep and had woken up at an ungodly hour to drive for 2 hours to the job site. Laying still in a quiet, dark room while my muscles were plucked, stretched, and rubbed down with hot stones seemed like a heavenly idea.

First I lay on my stomach, and my back was worked on as it had been several time before. No surprises, and the hot rocks were especially welcome this time. Seriously, you should try it if you haven't before.

Then I flipped on to my back. Each masseuse seems to approach this phase a little differently, so I was ready for whatever. Or so I thought.

I should have clued in the moment my chest and stomach were caressed, rather than rubbed down. I am a bit ticklish and was focused on keeping my cool, however. Let the professional work, I say. Then work began on my thighs.

It happened so fast, I barely understood what was going on. That of course is not really true: I knew immediately what was going on, but it was quite sudden and my senses overloaded. My life up to this point had not prepared me for this situation. I couldn't think straight, and since I had been more or less holding still the whole time it seemed only natural to continue holding still.

And then it was over, just about as fast as it started. Faster than I would have thought possible, if I'm completely honest. So quickly that I thought, absurdly in my mental haze, that there didn't seem to be much point. Then the massage was completed as normal, I paid the tip, and said "thank you" in Chinese as always, and left.

All I can really think of, some time later, is that I really wish that time had been spent on my pectorals. They're still damn sore.

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