August 2004 Archives

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know that I should be more careful, I know. But goddamnit why should I have to be??

Another one bites the dust.

Last night I played volleyball. I used to play every Thursday night until May, when I decided that the level of play was too low for me. I'm not an Olympic player by any stretch, but it was no longer fun. However, Sylvie, my old boss, emailed me suggesting that I play last night because ex-coworkers were going to play as well. I agreed. I wanted to see what these guys were capable of.

There was little that had changed except for a few new faces. Among the new faces was a team of gay men. I have to say, up until last night, I had never played with or against an obviously gay athlete. I never thought about it; athletes just play the game. Females athletes play just like male athletes. In a sense, there is not gender, just the game. But these guys...It astonishes me how someone so flimsy, prissy and girly could play so well. It's not that they became "athletes" on the court and reverted to their queen/fag demeanour (what's the difference between a queen and a fag?) off the court. They played like extremely girly women. It's like they are proof that girliness and athleticism can mix. As long as you are not female, anyway.

Taken recently. I include this because she looks great, but I look like a bum. I have had my moments, though. :)

Rose + JonasParker ↔ One year together!

I found out something interesting about a coworker of mine. He and his girlfriend run this amateur porn site. I am told that this is relatively common knowledge around the office, or at least among the developers. It's always those who you don't really suspect, you know?

"Adam" is a typical developer geek. He likes Lord of the Rings and RPGs ("I'll have to check that last detail). Has has children, and, like almost everyone I know that makes under a certain amount of money in the company, is estranged from them (I suppose that deserves its own post on CO, but I doubt it'll happen). But he seems to have met the perfect girl for him who shares his passion for fucking and the outdoors. I recognize some of the venues in which they like to fuck and/or flash. I wonder if he is the person who developed the actual website, or if he just worked on the back end. I'll have to use that joke when I talk to him.

Here is an excerpt of the letter that was delivered to me regarding me being a sexist asshole:

• Inappropriate comments: It had come to my attention in the first 6 weeks there were inappropriate comments being made to the female employees. I discussed this with you January 13 and said this was inappropriate behavior and must stop. This has continued throughout the past months and has been reported to me.

Here are some examples of what I said:

• "That's a nice dress. Looks good on you."
• "Did you get your hair done over the weekend? It's really cool."
• "Hey, where did you get those pants? I was looking for something for my girlfriend and I think that they would look great on her."

I am having. SUCH. A great, great day.

This morning before work as I was putting the finishing touches on Rose's business cards, I decided to put in a CD and listen to some music. The screen came up that says "What do you want to do with this CD?" and the options were 1) Play CD with this software; 2) Play CD with that software; 3) Explore this CD; 4) Do something else; 5) Cancel. I picked Cancel.

Imagine my joy when the computer decided to start playing the CD with no software! It picked a random spot in the CD, blared the music for about 0.4 seconds, and then died!

I am a pig. A sexist horndog. Watch out, because if you are female, I am looking to fuck you five ways from Friday.

I especially want to do it on your desk.

You see, I was, in my opinion told that I was a perverted lech by my boss. She gave me a Formal Warning in writing. The salient points of the warning were "Communication needs to be Crisp and professional", "Respect and Inappropriate comments", "Initiative and organizational skills", and "Attendance, Tardiness".

If the authorities want you, then you are theirs. And yes, I will play the race card but that's for another post. The government has the power to pick out vulnerable members of society and screw them. Yesterday, my brother got five years in prison for a bullshit charge of "intent to traffic drugs". Here's what I know and/or believe:

My brother was sentenced for a bullshit crime about an hour ago, and my parents' line is tied up. Why can't they have fucking voice mail? Because they are 70 years old, that's why.

More later, I guess.

UPDATE 1:20 pm: I was finally able to speak with my mom. Dada went to the courthouse and he says that the defense lawyer did a good job, but the judge came back with arguments of his own. At that point Dad couldn’t deal with it anymore and he left. The prosecutor gets a chance to say something now and then sentencing will occur.

There is no doubt that he will be sentenced. This is the same judge that TOLD the jury that my brother was guilty as he was charging them. It’s going to happen no matter what my brother’s lawyer does or says.

Entry of the day goes to V. for her expose on the ironing habits of those who said they didn't care about ironing, although I am against referring to herself as "the V."

Have you noticed that peaches aren't as fuzzy as they were 15-20 years ago? Have people been working on peaches to make them less fuzzy and more appealing? Does anyone have any data on this?

A conversation, one minute ago:

JP: What do you call 'more than one uterus'? Do you say, 'one uterus, two uteri'?
Steve: No, I don't say uteri! It's uteruses.
Chantal: You don't say uteruses.
Steve: Sure! It's like universes.

Apparently, it's either, but I only found out later.

I have added drop-down menus for the categories and the monthly archives because they were getting way too long. Stay tuned for other little enhancements as well as a fairly major enhancement to the entire Cheeseorgy network of blogs. (Cheeseorgy network of blogs? Where do I come up with this stuff??)

Just to clarify something: When my hand smelled less than fresh the other day, it wasn't due to any prurient or perverted acts. My hand smelled like dirt, sweat and cream cheese. No, not THAT kind of cream, or cheese. The previous night I played a messy game of Ultimate Frisbee, I neglected to wash up due to laziness, and on my way to work I had a bagel with cream cheese. I cleaned up at work.

Looks as though it might be time for a personality change.

I've been thinking that maybe I have to be more sensitive and such. I have maintained that someone that doesn't like the way I express myself, look or whatever, can kindly go to hell. I don't care what people think of me. The ones I care about get the truth from me, because if I don't give them that truth, then I am derelict in my duties as a friend. And what good am I then?

"My hand stinks."

I have to remember to write about my Ottawa experiences from 1993-1999. For those years my luck was pure shit, but they ended up being good stories that I like to tell every so often.

"See ya later, sluts", January 1993
"Shepherds of Good Hope Part 1", August 1995
"Another Roadside Attraction Hip Tour", same weekend
"Morning sun scorch", Summer 1998
"Shepherds of Good Hope Part 2", Summer 1998
"Cum-Guzzling Whore", July 1999

I'll try to get started on this as soon as possible.

Three minutes ago:

JP: "Hi Brigitte, is Dick in?"
Brigitte: "No, he'll be in later on."
JP: "Oh, well I'll try Dick a little later."

I think that Dick is a fucking stupid and outdated name." A better response for Dick's assistant Brigitte would have been, "No, he's still fumbling about." And I am usually better about saying funny things whenever the name Dick pops up.