HA! who would have thought that f uelcel l R&D would be so sweet?



Thats all I have to say. That my job is really cool and I'm happy with it and everything else. I wish I didn't have to move out of this neighborhood/ctiy, but easycome, easygo.


Also, I have some stuff that I want to give away (what with moving, etc)

1) tuba case. Its a tuba case, tuba not included. Very large. Use it to store tubas, or other brickabrack. Smells funny, sprayed lysol to rectify. Picked up one night coming home drunk.
2) large engineering drawings. Really big, 3+ ft @ 100 pages. Detailing the sprinkler system in the Elicott dorm complex at UB. Picked up one night coming home drunk.
3) oldy school stereo. An oldy school, vintage even, stereo w/ tape deck. Nice condition. Ebay purchase, possibly while drunk.

I had a dream last night instead of having a cat named Jack, my parents had a bulldog and a chimpanzee named Chester.


And oh, the fun we had.

Flight attendants are important. They have to deal with people, which is euphanism to say they have to deal with retarded assholes. (This is ironic because retarded people pretty much can not be assholes.)


But most of what they do is distract you from the reality that you are stuck in a little aluminum tube with a lot of people who either breathe through their mouth too loud, or have sweaty hands, or don't realize how many people they are sharing their personal space with.

They distract you by handing out bags of pretzels, or animal crackers, etc. And its not about the pretzels, you can tell this because they only give you (3) pretzels. Its about waiting for the pretzels, then opening the bag, then using the little napkin to wipe of the pretzel dust. Then waiting for the garbage bag to come through.
Eating (3) pretzels only makes you a little thirsty, so you get a little can of pop. Sometimes, if you are a big enough roller, you get the entire can of HOT WET AMERICAN SODA POP.

Another tactic is the Warm Towel. You hand out a Warm Towel with a warm towel Tong.
I don't get that shit. I don't think I want a warm towel, even if it is lemon scented or something.
What I could really go for, actually right now, is a warm Q-tip.
Sometimes there is an itch only that Q-tip can scratch.
And the best would be if they made a little contest with it. They can weigh the Q-tip before and after.
"Congratulations Mr. City2000, you are all man at 35 grams! You may chose from the prize list: small liquor bottles or another Q-tip."

____________________________



My last day at the juice factory was Friday. It was really nice.
I was hoping to burn bridges, maybe be a dick about it but everyone was a gent about it.

Tomorrow I start working as a Fu el Ce ll T est En Gineer and I'm a little par anoid that google will lead people to estrip among other places.
Finally a halfway decent job, with halfway decent bank.

The job is in the Rochester area, so I'll be moving out there in a month or so.

- I read this article (wish I could find it to link to) about kids' attention spans. The article was mostly about entertainment, especially TV shows. It was saying that what with all the internets nowadays, with the youtubes and google videos people are and will be getting used to shorter and shorter entertainment.
The article also speculated that TV ratings will dip because people won't even have the attention span to watch a 30 minute show.
I sat back and tried to cluck my tongue at the fickle and fly-brained Youth of Today when it occurred to me that that shit applies to me too. I mean with firefox I have like 10 tabs open and to spend 2 minutes on a page is probably above average.
To disprove this theory, I tried to think of the longest time I had recently devoted my undivided attention to something. I thought for like 10 seconds then gave up, and reloaded digg.com.

-Did anyone see those wind generators down on the lake in Lackawanna? Across from that Mittal place, by the CN warehouse.
This writer encourages those motherfuckers to fly their renewable freak flags high.

-The other day I looking through a calendar and trying to remember what I was doing a year ago this week.
I kept on going back until my memory finally got fuzzy around 1999. Then I can only remember seasons, like what I was doing in Spring 97 (the art of stealing from liquor cabinets) or Spring 95 (masturbation, masturbation, masturbation).
How far back can you remember before things start to blur?


[usersound is from a basement boombox tape I found. Its a me and some dudes playing 7 Seconds' 'young til I die' circa 98 or so. ]

You know how people, people who need people, are the luckiest people?

I think people, people who fart in crowded public spaces deserve an express escalator to hell.
Wherein for every honest soul they've befouled with their swamp gas, a thousand demons shall pass wind while they are entombed in a veal cage.

And those that may cry "I can't help it" shall be smoted from upon the heavens, and they become anethma, and they banished to desert island colonies of farters, and they spend the rest of their days wallowing in stink.

This is the Gospel of Kook