I’ll show you a jpeg of what is nice. If this is a repeat, then good. It is an image I’ll remember until I croak because I just know perfection when I see it. Eat your heart out for at least I regularly get within striking distance, pal. Tell you what, I will heavily distort the photo that you may glimpse Thule. Trust me, it is all natural. (She is 32.) Enjoy.
I have a new addition to my collection of novel business names. It drove away too fast to get a photo. Now if I could only find where I filed all the rest of them. This sign on the back of a landscaping truck: “Lawn Order”. Beautiful! I’m going to make some serious changes over at the doggie wig place after a spitting match early this afternoon. I had a broad (no, I don’t call all women that term) who cannot file her own email suggest that I don’t know what I’m doing. She is disorganized. That problem is just one symptom of her general ineptitude at anything except “marketing”.
Basically, she can read her email but won’t file it. She leaves it in the main box. I suggested that people clear their own mail out and she blew up. (Guess what, we now know the source of all the rumors that other people aren’t worth what they are being paid, for every one knows I’m worth every penny and she should not have tried that angle. Too late for her, she lost everyone’s respect on that one.)
She has the attitude other people here are going to stop what they are doing and help her. She confuses teamwork with you helping her out. (When you are 25+ and still need this kind of help, you are really in trouble.) I suspect she has been that way all her life and cannot imagine anything different. My work load goes up when she arrives. Beginning next day, I will keep a score sheet of how often I am interrupted. It averages around five times per hour up to eight minutes per instance. Ouch.
Since I know such people will never change, I’ll rearrange the work around them. That is, all correspondence which concerns me will go to a passworded box and so on. It is common knowledge such people want to blur the lines of responsibility. I don’t know (or like) AOL but I will create new mailboxes that will leave her with her own piles of unsorted mail. They will, of course, devote all they’ve got to screwing up the new system as well, but they always lose a little in the process.
The cell just rang, it is a callout for tomorrow. Good, easy money. So I’m going shopping. See you later. Ah, something unusual did happen. The electric went off for ten minutes this morning. I had to leave so I went about the place turning off everything I could remember had been on. I forgot the power to the security camera and was startled when it kicked back on. The picture on the monitor was a mirror image (180 degrees flipped left to right) of the outside scene. Strange or what?
Later. Phooey on Blogger dot com and their related (and needlessly confusing) Blogspot naming convention that reads too much like an email address in the first place. I went through every combination of correctness and could not get their page to display the video I uploaded. I pre-tested every stage and still the damn thing would not work. Maybe could be I have jes’ too much trouble reading them directions, don’t ya think?
Musically, I can report a great feat with “Silver Threads”. It still wasn’t right so I finally took it apart track for track as best I could. Lo, what do I find? There is an error that I cannot duplicate. What I can do is layer the lead break a second time on top of that error and what an incredible sound. I stayed awake past midnight and customized a complete bass line to the now three and a half-minute version. Definitely a crowd-pleaser. (The error is actually fairly common. 1970’s bassists seem to like to hit a fretted riff after a walkup and an open riff after a walkdown. It is the same riff but now imagine what happens if one of his strings was slightly out of tune. Aha!)
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