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I used to be creative. I used to be bright. I used to have a FUTURE.

Sorry, there is no future left.  My generation and the one before mine used it all up.  Sorry about that.

Hey y'all,

Still here.  Still a cook.  Still a drummer. Still married. Still queer.  Still not talking or writing very much.

Still happy.

Still here.  Still doing questionable shit for bad people.  Still married.  Still writing, under a different name, at a different place (solely due to lack of anyone being here).  Still full of rage.

Still happy, here at the end of all things.

Today at work

Me:  "Don't get pissed off at me, and I know you can take care of yourself, but I am required to ask you whether or not Scott following you around like a puppy dog is making you uncomfortable."

Fatima:  "It is not."

Me:  "You're sure."

Fatima:  "I have tentatively decided to not kill him."

Me:  "Wow.  You two are crushing hard."

Fatima:  "Crush?  Crush?  If you want me to show you a crush, come to the machine shop's press and I WILL SHOW YOU CRUSH!"

Me: "No, that will not be necessary.  On another subject, how is the project going?"

Fatima:  "Slow.  I need to do a live test."

Me:  "And just where would we do that without starting a war?  I mean, this thing is hard to miss."

Fatima:  *scowls* "details.  I need some explodey data."

Me:  "That's not even a word."

Fatima:  "It is the best word."

<Mickey Rooney voice>

You ever had someone you thought you were friends with for 21 years just flat-up ghost you?  I hate that.

</Mickey Rooney voice>

I should be used to it, given my earlier revelation that A friend is a close person who hasn't yet had sufficient incentive to turn on you, or at least show you the door.

And this isn't anything new for me,  and I realize that I'm not everyone's cup of tea.  I was picked last in every sport in junior high.  I was never invited.  I had to walk home from school, because nobody would give me a ride.

Then I got a little bit of Eris in my life.  I bought a 1976 Gran Fury (the one with the Windsor 360 V8/4 Barrel) for $500, got the Chilton's manual on it, and over the course of a summer, I had that bastard ready to race by fall.  Made some friends doing it, too.  Gearheads were hard to come by.  But even then, I was only ever an "honorary" member of the pack.  But at least I was connected.

That year I also got heavily into computers (1985 or so), and I again made some almost-friends, they would have been actual friends, but I thought they were a little obsessed and they thought I was a Gearhead (indistinguishable from a Jock in their eyes) that might suddenly turn on them and bounce them off their heads until their lunch money fell out.

The money shot of all of this is that by 1986, I had the Gearheads and the computer nerds hanging out, doing what is now called skill sharing

But that new, burgeoning group was full.  There was no place for me.  I mean, they'd all be pleasant, "how ya doing", etc, but once again, I was never invited.  Friendly but not friends.

Since then, I have been a soldier.  I was good at it.  I was looked on with favor by the senior noncommissioned officers for my ability to train newbies coming fresh out of basic.  But then something bad happened, and everyone for the rest of my time in the army looked at me like I was bad luck.  And then I was a civilian again, with a gimpy leg.

Fast forward 29 years.  I am at the top of my field.  I have finally hit the invisible PhD ceiling, and I'm okay with that.  I am still not invited, and I have come to realize that part of that is my fault.  Hell, maybe the majority of it is my fault.  I know that some of my odious personal habits rub people the wrong way, and that my taciturn behavior in person means that even Star Trek Nerds don't want to spend very much time with me at conventions.

Lastly, I am getting older, by which I mean I am eligible for AARP, so now I don't expect to be invited. 

Now, I'm not just trying to whine here, I'm actually sorta building up to something. 

And that something is this:  "If you ghosted me, I have no hard feelings.  It is what it is.  But I'm not where you left me, and I am reasonable sure I never will be again.  Go forth and enjoy your life over the next couple of overly-exciting decades, and forget you ever knew me.  We all have to make choices in this life, and you've made yours."

That's all I have to say about that.

Or Kill Me Leave Me Hangin'

Today at work:

Scott:  "So it turns out the slide needs another 100 or so foot-pounds to operate properly, but..."

Fatima:  *slaps Scott up the back of his head*  "Use proper units, nerd.  Are you a savage?"

Me:  "Whoa, Fatima.  We have to talk about this.  You can't be hitting other employees."

Fatima:  *glares*

Scott:  "Um, I'm not complaining."

*Scott's eyes flick over to Fatima with The Look*

Oh, my.  Scott seems to have the world's worst case of Autassassinophilia.  This should be interesting going forward.

Today at work:

Me:  "We hired a new engineer, Fatima.  He starts today, I need you to show him the ropes."

Fatima:  "Which ropes?  The ones in the..."

Me:  "No, the figurative ropes.  It's worth mentioning that he is a fetus.  I kept wanting to ask him if his parents signed the permission slip for the interview."

Fatima:  "Perhaps it is not that he is so young, but that you are old and feeble."

Me:  "I'll have you know I beat Samuel Beckett in a fight."

Fatima: *squints*  "Was it a fair fight?"

Me:  "Yes, I had a baseball bat and he had emphysema.  Anyway, here he comes."

Fatima:  "Good lord, he is an INFANT."

Me:  "He's a year younger than you."

Fatima:  "I was never young."

Scott:  "Hey, what's up?"

Me:  "Hey, Scott, this is Fatima.  She's going to be your mentor."

Scott:  "Hello, Fatima."

Fatima:  *scowls*

Me:  "Well, you seem to be getting along fine, I'm just gonna go to that meeting I just realized I needed to hold."

Scott:  "Um...What?"

Fatima:  "We're going to do great things."

Word salad means you really aren't trying, or that you have no ideas.

Just saying.

I am posting in this thread.

I just got over influenza A and boy are my guts tired.

I have apparently been told I'm blocked from the PD(dot)Com facebook page, which I had never heard of am not interested in.

That will show me!

Do they think that's like a coup?

I have no idea what they think.  Maybe they just have a low buzzing noise in their heads.

I have apparently been told I'm blocked from the PD(dot)Com facebook page, which I had never heard of am not interested in.

That will show me!

I get all the experience of being annoyed by American libs on Facebook without being American or on Facebook, it really is quite something.

Oh, no.  I think you'll find me FAR more annoying in real life.  Like 50 times+ more annoying.  I am a veritable typhoon of annoyance, especially to right wingers and leftists, but really to everyone, even other liberals.  I'm like Jesus, only it's Jesus that tells dad jokes all day instead of parables, both before and after I get us thrown in jail.  In Southern Arizona.  In August.

Now, there are some who have met me - and when I'm in someone else's city, I'm on my best behavior - who say at the time that everything's fine, but later say that it wasn't, and they didn't even wind up in jail.  This makes me wonder why Eastern police are so nice.  Like those charming lads on the NYPD.  Think Chelsea cops with extra amphetamine.

So ignore the castanet noise.  That's just me shaking my liberal ass while I work on the Shiny New War Crime.

Boom shaka laka.

Maybe. If we ever have a chance to meet up I'll let you know how many multiples of Mythos you rate.



Scribbly Update: I'm gonna be scarce for the foreseeable. I've taken some heavy hits over the past couple weeks and they just keep coming.

See you when the storm has passed.

Well, we're here if you wanna vent.

I get all the experience of being annoyed by American libs on Facebook without being American or on Facebook, it really is quite something.

Oh, no.  I think you'll find me FAR more annoying in real life.  Like 50 times+ more annoying.  I am a veritable typhoon of annoyance, especially to right wingers and leftists, but really to everyone, even other liberals.  I'm like Jesus, only it's Jesus that tells dad jokes all day instead of parables, both before and after I get us thrown in jail.  In Southern Arizona.  In August.

Now, there are some who have met me - and when I'm in someone else's city, I'm on my best behavior - who say at the time that everything's fine, but later say that it wasn't, and they didn't even wind up in jail.  This makes me wonder why Eastern police are so nice.  Like those charming lads on the NYPD.  Think Chelsea cops with extra amphetamine.

So ignore the castanet noise.  That's just me shaking my liberal ass while I work on the Shiny New War Crime.

Boom shaka laka.

This was my idea

It's still dumb, so don't feel ripped off.

Dude, nobody gives a fuck about your cause.