"I'll judge you all and make damn sure that no one judges me."
"I'll judge you all and make damn sure that no one judges me."
I Start Fires! |
2002-06-27
Piggy's specs were nicked at: 10:45 p.m.
Given the whole "It's Unconstitutional to say a bad word like 'God'" shenaneganboob going on, today should technically be considered a "Free Entry" day. I could regurgitate what's already been said on 70% of the journals out there in Journal Land, play with my vomit, and reshape it into something that would make people laugh or grind their teeth at my stationary figure perched on the fence. But I grow weary of the topic already, so here's an inane "personal" entry, just for you. The sleep clinic got back to me about the nightmare thing. My upper airflow is messed up, so my body is basically not letting me fall alseep for fear of smothering. Stupid confused brain. So, uh, something gets done on the 12th when I go back. My father's sage advice is running through my head right now: "Never get any sort of sinus surgery. Ever." Whimper. Toronto's sanitation workers are on strike, so Le Garbahge is piling up around here already. Maybe it's all in honour of the Pope and the millions of tourists coming to visit in July. Won't that make the lovliest impression? Especially after the junk that'll be strewn around after the Gay Pride Parade this weekend? What if His Holiness steps in some ... leftover biohazardous waste? POPE: "Aaaaah!" [/Hank Hill] And! Remember the public pool I was so thrilled to discover near my house? Well, it's closed now, until the strike is over. Which might take until fall. Fuckery. In a way, I feel sorry for the sanitation workers. In another more accurate way, I think they can fuck off. "Job security?" No one has job security anymore. Get over it and step into the world 90% of us already live in -- a world where you can lose your job in two seconds. I'm slowly watching bits of my work get contracted off. It's like watching a sadistic doctor amputate me piece by piece in some misinformed attempt to save money or some shit, but I'm helpless. All I can do is wait for the end. The workers want to be guaranteed a "job for life" after working for six years. Uh, no? People want to save money. So they contract jobs. True, the performance doesn't match up usually, but the savings are immense. It sucks, but it's the wave of the future, unfortunately. Yeah, I harbour an immense hatred of unions. I got it from my father, who challenges unionized workers to take a commision sales job where if you don't sell, you don't eat. And if you get sick, kiss your ass goodbye. At least my work, in its last passionate thrasings, is going well. The Evil Managers from Above came down to mingle with the commoners last month, and asked us our concerns. I casually mentioned I'd been kicked out of work for fear of tuberculosis and was forbidden to come back until I could prove I wasn't contageous -- and it was a really thrilling adventure where I nearly starved to death, and wouldn't some benefits for the part timers be nice? They said they'd look into it, but I wasn't ready to hold my breath. Today, they got back to me and the Four Horsemen streaked across the sky in an orgy of the war and the famine and the hey hey hey my cattle. The company refuses to give benefits to the part timers, because then they'd have to give them to all part time employees across Ontario. God forbid. But, as compensation, they're giving us a raise. Now the part timers get paid as much as the full timers. And 11 bucks an hour for the job I do is sure better than a kick in the ass. I opened my mouth and something happened. Something that benefitted thousands of employees across Ontario. Jesus God, someone better strike me mute before I get any big ideas in my daft head.
Beast from Water | Beast from Air |