Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

November 1, 2013

it’s not all that….

The reality is, my job, much as I like it, much as everything appears to be going well (as in the squeaky wheel gets the oil, and I have seen no oil cans heading my way) much as everything seems to be trickling along nicely, could end tomorrow.

It could end for a variety of reasons, from a management decision that wipes out 10% of the staff overnight, to a single line manager decision that for some (real or imagined) reason my face doesn’t fit.

Pretty much all you can do is enjoy it while you can, and certainly not worry about what it takes to be a better employee with more job security.

Now, if I talked about being a better boyfriend / husband with better relationship security, y’all would be chanting “Beta $, Alpha fucks”

But the fact is, it is true, I can no more make my self an attractive boyfriend to a wimminz who just ain’t interested, no matter what I have to offer, than I can make myself an attractive employee to a company that just ain’t interested, no matter what I have to offer.

The parallels are exact.

I don’t *want* my job to end, but the reality is I can no more influence that than I can the weather, all I *can* do, is do my job, the same as I did on my first day, no less, and no more.

The reality is that employers can and do bail on great employees as arbitrarily and unfairly as wives bail on great husbands and fathers, and there is *nothing* that you can do as a man to either influence that decision, or influence the relative value that you are assigned as a part of that decision making.

We had an *incident* at work recently, and you have to remember “work” is reseller > client > us > various departments in our place > me actually turning up on site.

The incident is I did everything I was told, to the letter, and fulfilled both the letter and the spirit of my contract, and yet, the job didn’t end up with a working widget, and nobody was happy, and so everyone started in on the blame game, and by the way I am talking global brands here… not mom and pop’s lemonade stand.

Since I was the only fucker who had actually been on site, naturally I was the only suspect in the murder case, and naturally I have not been included in the loop in all the hand wringing and blame game and no, you pay, we ain’t paying, horse-shit and horse-trading.

Bottom line?

Bottom line is two layers and seventeen levels away in the layer cake, the reseller was in possession of some data, and despite three explicit opportunities to provide this data, one of which was when I personally called their 3rd line support to ask if I was missing anything, it was never provided.

It was never provided because there were so many layers in their own organisation, nobody saw the whole picture, and nobody had any incentive to wonder what if anything was on the pieces of jigsaw that they could not see, eg the other 4,999 pieces that make up the whole.

Nor was the system itself designed in such a way as to fail gracefully, if it did not find the *thing* it wanted, all it would do is reboot, endlessly, no diagnostics, no error messages, no output, nothing.

By now it is obvious, it’s a software fault, it could be a crypto key or a TPM tie in or a licence file, it doesn’t matter, the bitch has been written to look for this shit as an integral part of the boot process, and if it doesn’t find it, reboot instantly and try again.

Which is great with 20/20 hindsight, but the people who provided this system and who resold our engineers as their own to the end user and who approved the purchase of parts that amounted to a complete new system, never though to tell the field engineer (me) this, even when he asked.

No, much easier to wait for it to go wrong and start playing the blame game.

Of course, when I point all this out, because, you know, that is the job of the field engineer, to join all the dots that everyone on higher salaries sat in their offices already has, and suddenly the blame game is reversed and all agree that actually yours truly didn’t fuck up, and the reseller will foot the bill in full, and my employer says to me you are quite right….

Yeah, and fair play to y’all for admitting it and not actually blaming me the instant the reseller tried to dump on me, but, the fact is if y’all could do *your* fucking jobs properly in the first place it would never have gotten this far.

Y’all should have been, hey reseller, our guy did, exactly and to the letter, what he was told to do and authorised to do by you, now fuck off and pay up. Any fuck up ain’t with us or our guy.

As the beta boyfriend / husband / father, it isn’t my fucking job to point out to you where you or your friends or advisers are wrong about me.

As a man with my self employed hat on, said reseller would be on my blacklist for life, not for fucking up and not telling the field engineer relevant data, but for trying to blame him as a first resort, rather than FIRST trying to identify what went wrong and where and how.


As a lowly employee, no doubt I’ll be doing another job for this reseller soon.

Interestingly, and notably, my fellow field engineers instantly knew that I was seriously pissed off with the whole thing, despite remaining outwardly utterly professional and calm, and as soon as they knew the facts they all sided with me 100%

Interestingly also, they all also equally apportioned the blame between our employer and the reseller, I heard more than once “redacted are known for always trying to blame everyone else.

Learn the lesson WOPR learned, many games are un-winnable, to play is to lose.

To try to be a good employee is to lose.

To try to be a good boyfriend / husband / father is to lose.

My company DO NOT WANT an uber mega kick-ass cool slick mother-fucker of a field engineer, if they did they woulda hired one, at 20x my current salary.

Same with bitches, you want a great man you’ll hire one, you are master of this house and of me.

*THEN* you can fucking complain when your employee doesn’t live up to spec, or your man doesn’t put food on the table or coal in the hearth, as per the original bill of goods.

Trying not to be a squeaky wheel is one thing, trying to be a teflon coated hub motor 100 kW drive wheel will get you sacked, part not suitable for role.

The HR bitch DOES NOT FUCKING GET IT, pathetic little circular mails about employee of the week and Fred has had such good feedback from acme corp and don’t y’all wanna compete with Fred and be even more alpha and uber than he is?





In my ideal world you won’t even have heard of me bitch, in fact in my ideal world the only people in the company who even know I exist would be three or four people in the service department who assign me work, and the fucking payroll computer.

We have quite a few ex military types, you can see the look on their faces, like being smacked across the face with a fresh wet halibut, when I say shit to them.

I’ll get emails circulars from them about company policy and procedures and looking good for clients, and email circulars from HR about who got prizes for the best fucking Halloween costume at work, so I’ll ask them when they were on patrol in Helmand Province, was it the Afghans or the Brass who formed the judging panel for the best Halloween outfit while on patrol?

Did they have a dress down Friday where everyone went out on patrol in denim and cheesecloth and the wimminz soldiers looked like they were clubbing?

Did they hire people from the job-centre in Watford and tell them to make their own way to Kandahar, DHL should be delivering your weapons and ammo on-site for a pre-midday and you got to look for a guy wearing an aqualung who answers to the name of Trevor and fix whatever it is he says needs fixing so you can get your paperwork signed and we all get paid?

Gotta be careful who you say this shit to though…. real careful… or you’ll be seen as the squeaky wheel.

Fuck all you can do to improve your lot, as an employee or as a beta boyfriend, but plenty you can do to fuck it up…. and 99% of that will come from trying to improve your lot, or your status. or what others think of you.


October 19, 2013

Diminishing returns

Shooting the shit with a co-employee while we cooled our heels on the clock, waiting for someone else in the supply chain to get their finger out so we could complete our jobs and GTFO.

Got around to overtime, and why I almost never do it, by the time overtime comes along, you already used your tax free allowance on your basic wage, so for example is the tax rate is 45% and you basic pay is $10 an hour and the company pays overtime at time and a half….

… a lot of guys start thinking 1.5 x 10 = 15 bucks and hour, but since the whole of that 15 bucks an hour is taxed at 45% you actually get 8.25 an hour to take home.

In other words each additional hour you work is a case of diminishing returns, the sweet hours were from when you started the day at 9 until mid morning, still on the tax free bit of your tax allowance (I know, it doesn’t actually work like that, but bear with me) where your hourly rate = your take home rate.

So this is why when I look at my monthly, it usually has around 3 to 8 hours of overtime, and the total extra money I am paid for those hours after tax is sweet fuck all.6a0120a9506f8e970b01347fe72626970c

But you have to remember, I am debt free, so I can do this and look at life this way.

Wimminz be the same, after the first fuck, which may have cost you a couple of drinks, everything else is diminishing returns.

And this is for s debt free guy, for the indebted guy it is much much worse, he can neither quit the job nor refuse the overtime.

Yesterday I got a call at 4:30, would I mind doing some overtime, a hotel site 50 miles away was hard down, now as I suspected the problem wasn’t fixable by me because it wasn’t the router, it was the line, and within 5 minutes of arriving I’m logged in and the IOS command show dsl interface atm0 tells you all about the line, signal which should be a high number is hovering around 6 dB, and attenuation which should be a low number is hovering around 50 dB, the kit is detecting the xdsl carrier and getting a lock, but that’s it, I tell the guy on the other end of the phone it is a line fault.

Of course, they don’t wanna know that, because it means escalating it and making an expensive and time consuming extra step in the escalation process to call a British Telecom line engineer out, so I spend 2 hours chilling and doing occasional other tests like swapping out the router for a new one and swapping out cables and shit…… and 2 hours later with all new cables and an all new router we are sat there with a carrier detect and 6 dB snr and 50 dB attenuation, and now they listen to me and book a line engineer.

Now money wise that is an hour to get there, two hours fucking around onsite, and an our back, half of which goes to the taxman, so, not worth it, but daddy didn’t raise no dumbass.

The job wasn’t too long to ruin my evening, but, it was long enough to qualify for expenses, so I was entitled to claim for supper, which I did, a nice sit down fish supper at a restaurant, and unlike my taxed overtime, every last red cent of that bill was picked up by the company, and since I had to eat anyway, in effect that got me tax free double time, now THAT is worth it.


I have occasional longer dalliances with wimminz, mini relationshits if you will, and I use the same logic, and make a point of acting like a 70’s wimminz pop star, “I know you say you love me, but what have you done for me lately bitch” in the sense I only take on that OPTIONAL overtime if it suits me and is to my direct advantage.

I make it very clear to the wimminz in question that as soon as we hit the point of diminishing returns then rain stops play and I sit at home with my feet up.

My employer, like wimminz, appreciates my attitude and appreciates me, when they ring up with an overtime job they know they have to sell it to me, start by giving me all the job details up front, not just do you want some overtime in 90210 zip…

And if I say yeah I’ll do it they thank me up front, and I say no problem, because if it was the slightest fucking problem, I wouldn’t be doing it, and we both know that.

I want to digress slightly, something related.

My job, I’m a field engineer, I almost never see a fellow employee, my interaction with my bosses and HQ is via electronic means or phone call. Electronic means is usually an electronic diary, with brief job description.

Everything else is self discipline. Nobody is watching, nobody is checking, nobody will physically see.

It is up to me to get up in time, wash, shave, put on a shirt and tie, make sure I have the shit I need to do the job, and get my ass to site for the appointed time.

The only thing keeping me honest is me.

To the extent that the squeaky wheel gets all the oil, I get none, we are supposed to have 12 weekly face to face with line managers and all kinds of shit, I saw mine once back in March or April, which suits me fine…

I say they love me, they clearly don’t, but neither do they go “Oh fuck, what now?” when a message with my name in it pops up.

I’m easy and reliable and trustworthy and predictable.

Micromanage me and my ass is dust.

Sure, it’s not easy finding an employer my attitude and approach will fly with, but I figure neither is it easy to find an employee who can go months without any supervision of any kind and still turn up able to pass a surprise inspection.

It’s not easy finding a wimminz my attitude and approach will fly with, but I figure neither is it easy for them to find a man in a world of niggerz, so if you wanna play, you gotta pay.

My crib, at the moment, is a shit pit, so don’t get the idea that the self discipline I am talking about is some OCD trip, nor do I want to give you the impression I’m gung ho for all the corporate team building shit, I flatly fucking ignore everything that is not 100% related to my actual job, I unapologetically use spam filters for the internal corporate emails, everything automated and designed to make lacklustre employees do their job is sent straight to trash, this is against company policy and the corporate IT bod, who is not a friend of mine as we have locked horns a couple times over the pathetic corporate policy on password complexity and frequency of change, the OCD 30’s IT head telling me he knew all about my objections to the policy and touting his resume as part of the attempted put down, me saying yeah, the only factor you are missing here is people… duh… despite this, and them having full access to and control of my corporate laptop every time it goes on-line, not a fucking word is said, but then again neither is anything said about using my company laptop for personal use, because I don’t, ever, not even once.

Whenever one of the bods in the office has to call me on the company phone about a job, they are always greeted by a cheerful happy voice, because I am cheerful and happy, because I don’t give a flying fuck, I do my job, I enjoy my job, there are no inducements that they can offer or threaten with that will make me change, I’ll walk.

I’m the same with wimminz.

The self discipline doesn’t mean I am Captain Save-a-ho, I am chock fucking full of mother-fucking flaws and shortcomings, but I am here because I enjoy it and because it is fun, and the instant you try to change that bitch, I’m done here.

The law of diminishing returns does not apply to your cunt / ass / mouth, my self discipline ensures that it is either all gravy, or all history.


October 6, 2013

Selling your soul

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 11:59 am

This one comes up regularly in conversations, so time to put it here.

It doesn’t matter if it is on a fucking site, PoF, okcupid, fuckbook, a job interview, or real life.

You can give it any fucking trendy name you like, your account, your profile, your CV, your party hat on… it doesn’t make any odds, what you are doing is writing an advert…. this leads to options… Person A who is honest, and Person B who is dishonest.

  1. Advert is true
    1. Person A visits advert and likes it
      1. Game on
    2. Person A visits advert and doesn’t like it
      1. Game over, you aren’t compatible, no sale today
    3. Person B visits advert and likes it
      1. Game over, they are dishonest, you won’t like the price
    4. Person B visits advert and doesn’t like it
      1. Game over, you are honest, they don’t like the price
  2. Advert is false
    1. Person A visits advert and likes it
      1. Game over, your deception will be revealed
    2. Person A visits advert and doesn’t like it
      1. Game over, you aren’t compatible, no sale ever
    3. Person B visits advert and likes it
      1. Game on/over, you’ll make the sale, sure, but you’ll regret it, deeply.
    4. Person B visits advert and doesn’t like it
      1. Game over, you’re a liar, so are they, no foundation of trust, no sale

So, out of 8 possible outcomes;

  1. One (1.1.1) gets you the “sale”, ching ching. Je ne regret rien.
  2. One (2.3.1) gets you the “sale”, brick in an iPad carton.
  3. One (1.2.1) doesn’t get the sale, but doesn’t alienate the other person.
  4. Five are no sale, a waste of effort.

If you aren’t getting (1.1.1) in whatever endeavour you are doing, say getting laid on a fucking site, then that is TRUE market forces at work, your honestly marketed product is not desired, even if it is free (like Linux)

If you attempt to change the advert to get a sale then you’re (2.3.1) you changed yourself from an honest vendor to a dishonest vendor, and no honest buyer will ever want to know you again, what’s perhaps more pertinent is you can never make another honest sale, honest buyers who are looking for what you really are will be put off by your advert, which saying something else entirely about you, and there is no way to say hey, wait a minute, none of this is true, I was only trying to make a sale here…

Item 4 above, the other five are no sale, a waste of effort, well, it is no effort at all to set your stall out honestly, it is just being you, take it or leave it, but it is a lot of effort, and an ongoing effort, to maintain an illusion.

Maintaining the illusion and making no sale is a monster waste of effort, but, it is better than maintaining the illusion and selling the brick in the iPad box, one is un-interested potential buyers, the other is someone you ripped off, even if they also paid you in counterfeit notes… y’all richly deserve each other.


Like I say, this doesn’t apply just to one small area of your life like getting laid.

Do *****NOT***** confuse this with those who are marketing the illusion, and who also say “fuck ya if ya don’t take me as I am, I ain’t changing for no-one” s these are just people who are more in love with their own delusions than with making an honest sale.


ALL your problems start from an initial assumption that you aren’t worth shit if you haven’t made a sale, you are a failure, a loser, a beta, a nobody, yadda yadda yadda.

As a potential employee there have been situations where potential employers could use me, but were not prepared to pay me what I thought my labour was worth, this doesn’t make me unemployable, they still have the vacancy and I still have my labour to sell.

I have some machine tools that I attempted to sell on fleabay, I put a fair minimum price on them, I didn’t make a sale, I still have them.

I *could* have made a sale, one guy came around and would have given me 50 cents on the dollar and I would have made a sale, but I chose not to, I actually ended up spending more money on the items to get them better than they were and kept them.

At 50c on the $ I would have considered myself exploited, I’d rather give them away or sell for scrap.

This, essentially, is why I am a single man.

My time and interest and effort and loyalty are indeed for sale, I just can’t get any interest in this market at the minimum prices that I am prepared to open negotiations and start haggling at.

I had one guy say to me, “there is this chick on a fucking site, I’d give it one and all that, but she is overweight and has a list of demands that the guy is at least six foot yadda yadda yadda…. how do I deal with that?”

It’s simple, you don’t. she falls into one or more of the (2.x.x) series of options above, no good can come of it, the best possible scenario is you use some forged currency to buy a brick in an iPad box, but the chances are you’ll be spending real money, so it’s even worse.

You know, this is what red pill / MGTOW is *really* all about, it is about not contaminating yourself by associating with liars, and not being a liar yourself, or to yourself, or about yourself.

And yes, this includes whatever you do for 40 hours a week to earn a crust.

You cunts need to learn the difference between COMPROMISE and NEGOTIATION.

Red pill doesn’t fucking compromise, the two are mutually exclusive.

I am open to negotiation, but not compromise, and that makes me “no sale” to 99.9% of the planet, including wimminz and niggerz and employers.

Sadly, even modern dictionaries have re-defined the word, so here it is, the essential difference, because both words are broadly similar and broadly involve two parties in discussion on a given subject.

In a NEGOTIATION there is no expectation of any kind that an agreement between the two parties will be found. Rather, the discussions centre around exploring the possibility that such an agreement can be made.

In a COMPROMISE either such an agreement has already been made, or both parties are working under the assumption that such an agreement is the end goal.

You can say “You have compromised yourself by taking that money from Luigi”

You cannot say “You have negotiated yourself by taking that money from Luigi”

I just spent 15 minutes on-line trying to find a link to a site that did not confabulate the two UTTERLY disparate and separate things into one, and failed… My print edition 1950’s Oxford dictionary had no problems whatsoever differentiating the two, though to be fair http://oxforddictionaries.com/ makes a fair attempt at it, and neither definition mentions the other one, which is as it should be.


The only form of compromise that is acceptable to a red pill man is the sort I made recently with the Noo Pee Cee build, I had to compromise between the spec I would like to build and the money I wanted to spend…. eg one I make with myself, because I can usually trust myself to play both sides of the argument fairly.

Any outside (of me) agency that has as its starting point that I must make some compromise, is kept outside the perimeter of my life, and that is NOT negotiable mother-fucker.

September 4, 2013

Dating is a job interview.

Bear with me…

Take a look at the picture, imagine it is not a mirror image of the same girl, but two views of the same girl, your view, and my view.

You see a beautiful young wimminz, I see a filthy lying whore.Image10101

What’s the difference?

I have some data about her that you do not.

e.g. your opinion is based upon nothing more than a LACK OF DATA.

This is the basis of AWALT, all wimminz are filthy lying whores, no exceptions.

Now let’s say this wimminz is actually known to you personally, but not known to me personally, so you have some known data about her, specifically, and I have none, specifically.

Make any difference?

No, because YOUR opinion is still based upon a lack of data, whereas mine is based upon the fact that I have only ever found scorpions that have stung, and scorpions that have not yet stung, I have never yet seen a peacenik scorpion that I will let sit on my cock.


So here you go, you are a wimminz and you meet me, your first and major fuck up is that you do not view that process as an interview for a job, a job with one vacancy.

  • You think you can go trawling around a bunch of other potential employers, and I am going to sit here with the patience of a saint, just in case one day you might want to take the job.
  • When I say take the job, I mean of course turn up 10 minutes before quiting time, do your nails, fuck around on your iphone, and then demand to know where your fucking holiday pay is.
  • As / when / if you get an interview, eg meet me, which will only happen if you treat making an early appointment and turning up on time, eg as someone keen to get the fucking job, hearing that you had 497 other jobs that you quit on the day you got them, you know, because the boss was a fucking asshole, doesn’t really endear me to the idea of taking a chance on you and hiring you.
  • One previous long term employer that you parted with on good terms is the thing to aim for.
  • Like any other job, turning up with your womb turds doesn’t make you a candidate for employee of the month, while there is the danger of maternity leave for the single wimminz, in your case it is guaran-fucking-teed that there are going to be constant days off and early quits because junior has some lego lodged in his ass, plus, there is the danger of future maternity leave too.
  • Turning up with an unknown and un-checkable history doesn’t do you any favours either, I’ve been trying to fill this vacancy for 30 fucking years, and I have heard every variation of every story at least fifty times, you are not a precious snowflake and I don’t buy your bullshit excuses.
  • Expecting to get instant holiday pay, company expense account, directors car parking spot, and company medical and a promotion to CEO within 4 weeks doesn’t fly either, the job being advertised is cock and bottle washer and sammich maker, with the potential for advancement through the ranks, by becoming an invaluable employee.
  • Expecting, at the end of the interview, to be able to sign a cast iron contract guaranteeing you everything, but asking nothing from you, with no possible sacking offences, that I can’t get out of, isn’t going to make me think you are the next Tesla and everything you touch will turn to gold.
  • Having previous jobs as bukkake and felching queen and general 2 dollar whore and miss gangbang 2009 is likely to adversely affect your employability in a role that ultimately reflects upon the company and myself, ditto skank ho tats and piercings.

But, it is not all bad news…

  • You *can* take the cards on the table, ex con looking for a fresh start, willing and eager for an opportunity to shovel shit, approach.
  • The above approach doesn’t mean I see you as less, see the pictures above, you merely confirmed that data that I knew was there anyway, but, the reason you get the look in is you chose to not to try to bullshit me.
  • This approach better not end the instant the interview does and I offer you a period of trial employment, as many wimminz have found, the instant the no bullshit approach ends, so does the fucking job.
  • Being an overweight 5 isn’t a drawback either, I’ll get over firing your fat ass a lot quicker than if you were a sex bomb 10.
  • If you need extra, come to me BEFORE you go moonlighting.
  • If you call in sick to go moonlighting, don’t even bother coming in for your back pay… I already used it for your leaving party.
  • There are plenty of get rich quick con schemes out there, but this is a REAL job, with prospects measured in decades, it’s a steady living.
  • The more work YOU put in and the more loyalty you show the company, the better your long term prospects.
  • You can do a hostile takeover, but 3 seconds after your ass hits the MD’s chair the company ceases trading, the guy you just sacked took the customer base with him, 100% of them, forever.

You get the idea lay-dees….

AT this point in time the company has “progressed” to the point where merely getting an interview entails you blowing the MD (me) on the directors couch.

It may not be NASA, but a skanky ho like you ain’t even getting the URL of the fucking contact page from them, and no fucking way are you going to the moon, but at least this little wrong side of the tracks porn company has good capitalisation and a long term future ahead of it, which will put a roof over your head.

I find THIS singularly appropriate to post again.


June 26, 2013

Back in the day

When my dad was not much more than a boy, he had an apprenticeship at a local engineering place, of course, back in those days an apprenticeship was something you (or your parents) paid your employer for, and you got no wages the first two years…bda5_2

After a time, he got good enough to do his own work, and at that time there were a lot of Bedford lorries around, and of course a lot of them were ex war department stuff.

One of the jobs that needed doing with some regularity was setting up the back axle and diff, and as it turned out Dad was good at this, so good he got the time to do each one down to under an hour.

Of course, what happened then was every time one of these jobs came in, he got it, and he only managed to get off that mandatory assignment by progressively slowing down each job, until someone else was faster.

I have been posting more lately because basically the last two weeks I have been paid to sit on my ass at home waiting for a call, a couple of days ago I was bored enough to talk to a couple of the other guys, “You busy?”

Turns out they are both working their ass off, one on his 45th different site in a specific chain, interestingly if you draw a line from his home to the site he was at yesterday it is 200 road miles long, and around the middle of it, is where I sit typing this..

So why was he sent to do the job and not me, well, the answer is two fold;

  1. If this week the company has 3 x 40 engineer hours available in my area, and 60 engineer hours work, it makes no odds to them how that is split up, it is no cheaper to give each engineer 20 hours work, than to have one working full time, one working half time, and me sat at home.
  2. He was the Bedford back axle man for this particular job, having already done 44 of the bastards.

He is, in his own words, pissed off with the employment as a whole, I, in my own words, am as happy as a pig in shit, so far in June I have had a total of 13 jobs, and usually that is an allocated 2 hour time slot for each job, plus travelling time to or from site.

Next month should be busier for me, a lot busier, there are a few major projects coming down the line, but it still isn’t WORK, so I will be a happy bunny.

Work for me was when it was 34 degrees Celsius outside in the shade, and then you went down into an engine room all day with operating machinery and did hard physical and technical labour with the sweat oozing out of every pore. That was work.

Sometimes playing with main engines, some times playing with gen sets, some times playing with pumps, some times playing with human waste (shit piss and tampons) in clogged holding tanks.

Nowadays I’m paid to drive around and effectively play text based video games (there ain’t a lot of difference between “you are in a cave, there is an angry dwarf…” and cisco config stuff… ) for an hour or two, or move some routers / switches and patch cables, now and again I will swap a mainboard, psu or hard disk.

When I finish a job I’m not smeared from head to toe with an amalgam of lube oil, diesel, grinding disk compound, welding rod spatter, lithium grease and human shit.

Yesterday, cos guys are like that, I sent a text to a mate of mine trapped in a job he wants out of, but there are no real alternative jobs in the county and anyway his house won’t sell, the text said worked two hours last tuesday, and had an attachment of the pint of beer I was sitting drinking outside a pub.beer5… lrfh

He sent me a text back… “Bastard”

This is the same guy who was telling me a few weeks ago that my job would never do him, it just didn’t pay enough money, after I had explained it paid ENOUGH money in exchange for bugger all work and zero personal responsibility….

So after the beer I meet some old skank, take her back to mine, dump two loads of cum into her and then she is off, back to her latest boyfriend… it’s an open relationshit… apparently…

I crawl into bed and sleep the sleep of the innocent, wake up this mo’nin, hullo clouds, hullo sky, hullo coffee, it’s a hard fucking life, but someone has to do it… lrfh.

Back in the day, when I was working in ambient 40+, smeared in shit and grease, I was trying to achieve something, I was trying to be the best and what I did, I was trying to earn respect, I was trying to earn money, I was trying to “make” something of myself.

No young boy actually wanted a Lamborghini countach, you wanted a lambo to impress and pull GIRLS… that was the fucking truth… sure, it was dressed up as one-upmanship over other guys, but again, that was just to get the girls…

I spent a lot of my life either directly or indirectly trying to get a woman, or keep a woman, cos, again, it was just one of those things you did, everyone knew that… course, I never really called it that, I called it trying to earn money, trying to be ace at my trade, trying to make something of myself.

My now departed dad, well, NOW I realise there where a whole lot of things he didn’t tell me, why should he, I would either work it out for myself, or I wouldn’t, and there was no other way to that knowledge than working it out for myself.

With 20/20 hindsight, he dropped a LOT of hints, and said a lot of things that just sounded like off the cuff remarks to a blue pill me, funny as fuck.

Even funnier now, now I get the joke, and I was the joke.

Same sort of off the wall shit I am saying to my mate who I sent the beer pic to, which he don’t really get, yet, one day he will.

My mate, like the guy on his 45th install, ain’t happy in his job, which is crazy, because they both have great fucking jobs that they could do in their sleep, but unfortunately they give a shit, and are trying to get ahead, and MAKE SOMETHING OF THEMSELVES.

Thing is, you can’t make something out of yourself when a big part of what you call yourself isn’t you, but just a load of shit you’ve picked up along the way.

When I was 20 I read a quote, it said; “Death is not the end of life, character is the end of life.

Like a lot of the off the wall stuff my dad used to say to me, it made me laugh and I thought it funny enough to remember and quote again, but, I didn’t fucking GET it.

Character is, of course, me + all that shit that goes to make up “trying to make something of myself”

Take away all that shit that goes to make up “trying to make something of myself” and what is left is ME, and suddenly life is no longer over.

You know, I don’t even regret the 50 years of my life that have gone by, before I started to really get all this shit, because the fact is that much time and experience pretty much HAD to go by, before I could get this shit…. you can’t make a 40 year old VSOP Cognac in less than 40 years.

Take at look at this sad cunt http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2347887/Money-doesnt-buy-happiness-says-Bernie-Ecclestone.html

The guy is worth 3 billion Pounds, and says ‘I am not sure what happiness is’

Well Bernie, I am worth about 3 thousand Pounds, and I dunno what love is, but I am happy.

But then look what Bernie did with his life, worked like a cunt trying to “make something of himself”, got married (and divorced) three fucking times, had two daughters who are loyal to their mum, not to him… see a pattern here..?

Of COURSE the cunt is miserable…

He should have quit when he was 50, in 1980 when he was only worth a few hundred million, and retired to a tropical island and spent the rest of his days wandering around bollock naked trying to perfect coconut wine.

As my quote above specified, Bernie died fucking decades ago, so did everyone else you can shake a stick at.

My employer doesn’t get it, all they can think of is fucking “career advancement” CCNA > CCDA > CCNP CCIP CCDP CCVP, cos you will earn lot’s more munnay.

Dude, I am in my fucking fifties, I already have all the qualifications I want, if I was CCn/i/d/vP I’d be expected to work my fucking ass off, pressure, responsibility, yadda yadda yadda, what the fuck.

Back in the day, when you retired from a company after many years of service, they gave you a fucking gold watch, which was symbolic of the fucking company giving YOU back YOUR time, to do with as you wish (remember, public timekeeping was used so workers could get to work on time).. well thanks for fucking nothing.

Back in the day, I had CHARACTER, now, I have ME.

October 13, 2012

When the crazy makes sense

I give you http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/photos/

If that doesn’t float your boat, here is a complete, unedited, copied and pasted quote from Zerohedge

I have a friend who is a department manager at Walmart.  He and the other two department managers for that department have no employees. 80% of the employees are cashiers.  I point you to JCPenney and their decision to go to RFID chips, and reassigned all of their cashiers.  

In five years Walmart will not be the biggest private employer in the U.S., but they will be doing just fine.  I’ll let you figure out why.

The guy is right, this is what the world has come to, a store department with three managers and zero employees, and it takes me straight back to documentaries made in 1976 about computerisation and the word processor wiping out the thing known as the typing pool….  buggy whip manufacturers indeed.

You also have to remember that all three “managers” are in fact in reality no more than the most menial of clerks with no discretion or authority, just a job title, Orlando style.

You can go to my local supermarket and there is an analogy to the proper turner in the shop replaced by one guy manning six CNC tools, there is one chick manning 8 self service tills, every time a customer tries to scan both bags of sugar before putting the first one into the weighed tray, or when central programming gets the weight of an item wrong so when you do scan and put it in the bag in the weighed tray it throws up an error.

If you stick with standardised and bar-coded items, coffee, milk, sugar, washing up liquid, it works well, hell it beats the fucking tills with queues of obese wimminz, plus it has the advantage that if the system fucks with you or falls over, just walk away and leave that shit there, that’s the bit the programmers always forget, a human can walk away from a robot mid-sentence… of course the bit the human’s always forget is that machines and computers can be programmed to be sociopathic towards you.

Take the example of petrol pumps, the law states that when they say they have dispensed a gallon of fuel, they can not under read by more than a fixed amount.

Say for example that the law says a pump cannot under dispense by more than 1.5%

Say for example (I’ll use metric cos it is easier) the tanker delivers 10,000 litres of fuel to the filling station, that means that the pumps are allowed to dispense a displayed volume of 10,150 litres, given that it is child’s play to make a pump that meters accurately to 0.1% this means they can deliberately set every pump in the land to under dispense by 1.4%, on every fill up, for every vehicle.

This is a simple example of a simple mechanical machine that has been set up to steal 1.4% of your billed amount, every single transaction.

Back in the day you could use a CB “burner”, which might make the pump money display freeze, or scream through to 99.99

Your domestic electric and gas meters are the same deal BTW

By the time you get to advanced electronic self service POS, and more importantly the supermarket full of products designed to be compatible with same, you get screwed left right and centre, by design, by the programmed to screw you sociopathic machine.

Suddenly things like apples and oranges and cucumbers get sold by quantity, not weight, and it is only when you get back home that you realise that back when you used to buy by weight from that same supermarket a bucks worth of apples used to full the fruit bowl on the dining table, and now you are buying individually the 8 apples it takes to fill the bowl are now a buck and a quarter, or local currency equivalent.

Suddenly, you’re buying the barcode, and getting for free the product attached to the barcode, and next thing you know you are being eased into the so called “multiple micro-transaction” model, which isn’t so micro… a minimum of 10% of shoppers at my local mart have already been programed to;

  1. Pay for their groceries with the plastic at 14:04 hrs
  2. Pay for their smokes with the plastic on the way out to the car at 14:10 hrs
  3. Pay for their fuel for the car with the plastic (pumps set 1.4% under) at 14:19 hrs

Three transactions in 15 minutes at the same store in the same visit on the same plastic, and of course you are getting nickel and dimed at every step, and that is BEFORE you get talked into any of the options such as “cash back” at the till and so on.

Of course, as the IQ required by the customers drops, so does the IQ required by the staff.

IN shades of the Stainless Steel Rat, it is an ill wind that blows no good… I found myself wanting some 15″ diameter analogue wall clocks, the store had some on offer, seriously cheap, but the advantage is you go on with a good AA battery and a nearly flat AA battery which you palm, cos a nearly flat AA battery makes a clock mechanism / second hand jerk, but not advance, and you buy one “good” clock for 5.99 and get two “broken” ones for free after showing the department “manager” (see above) the broken stock… three clocks at 2.00 a pop.

It would be illegal to swap bar-codes on items, or to not swipe items, you could do both these things and get away with it, with some finesse, but they are both illegal and it just isn’t worth it, especially not for some product that costs 3.99…

But it is not illegal to game the system, by doing things the programmers never expected you to do, it is not illegal to take the 1 Kg bag of sugar and place it FIRMLY in the weight tray / bag after scanning, say 2 Kg firmly for a second or two… it is not illegal to wear a relatively large rare earth magnet in a wrist strap… it is not illegal to not know the difference between one variety of apple and another, and constantly ask the assistant for help… nor is it illegal to, as I saw on my last visit, wear a bracelet with a pendant with a bar-code enamelled onto it, which they only spotted when the security guard noticed that the “Error, call assistant” only came up when the customer tried to scan stuff with her left hand, the arm with the pendant.

RFID / NFC / NFC+bump etc is the appropriate technology to move us from where we are, to a real multiple micro transaction scenario where we can REALLY get nickel and dimed.

Which is great, until “Fred” comes along, Fred is as crazy as batshit, Fred was so convinced that all the RF pollution was fucking up his brain waves that he went out and bought a pocket size jammer from Asia, now he says he is much better, while being bathed in his own RF pollution…. I saw Fred this morning, buying his smokes (yeah, go figure) and the usual passer by looking at their phone quizzically and shouting HELLO!!!! ARE YOU THERE? at it, seems Fred decided to buy a new pair of trainers / sneakers, apparently he had a hell of a time, because the room temperature IQ staff were unable to just wave the RFID tagged product at the POS unit, and had to type in a 16 digit number by hand, which took about three attempts.

Fred didn’t make the connection, beyond “All this fuckin’ technology man….

January 2, 2012

The Death of Apprenticeship.

Now and again in my old “day job“, which is to say my TRADE, which is to say TIME SERVED APPRENTICESHIP, I used to come across situations where I ran up against the fact that I was clearly one of the very last people to get anything even remotely resembling a PROPER old fashioned apprenticeship.

I didn’t have a PROPER old fashioned apprenticeship, my father did, his parents had to pay his “employer” to allow him to go to work every week for the first 4 years, because until then he was a drain on the company, and after 4 years he was good enough to earn them money, and boy let me tell you in his day if you laughed at your master for making a trivial mistake, your master would punch you in the mouth, and unless you wanted your apprenticeship to end then and there, you took it…

My own apprenticeship was not quite that tough, I didn’t actually have to pay for permission to go to work, though I did get paid sweet fuck all, and did have to take whatever was dished out.

Turns out, in later life, I realise that I had some other apprenticeships too, even though I didn’t realise them at the time…

Turns out growing up a boy in a traditional family was one hell of an apprenticeship in how to be a father and a parent.

Turns out growing up generally was an apprenticeship for being a Man, for being a Husband, for being a breadwinner, a lover, a protector, a provider, and another cog in the machinery that is civilization.

Turns out, many of those “skills” are as in demand nowadays as buggy whip making.

Turns out, that whole process of learning shit did not so much teach me about the shit in each particular subject, but more generally it taught me HOW TO LEARN.

Turns out, I learned, late maybe, but well… AWALT, fuck yeah.

Turns out, as I look around, the REASON that AWALT, the reason that “the youth of today“, the reason that “bankers today“, the reason that “industrialists today” etc etc etc are all useless fucking cunts, is that none of them had much in the way of these various apprenticeships while growing up.

Whatever innate talent I had for engineering, plus whatever exposure I had to training, it was like the christian parable of the seed that fell on fertile soil vs the seed that fell on stony ground.

A modern kid raised in a single skank ho mummy household is the “stony ground” in the parable, the stony ground specifically being that kid just not getting all those other apprenticeships as it grows up, not getting the “Kid growing up with mummy and daddy“, not getting the “mummy home maker, daddy world shaper“, not getting the “this is your home, where you are always safe and secure from the world” etc etc

It’s like learning languages, you cannot learn latin or greek or french or spanish or german, without also learning more about english.

Just as there are no longer any engineering apprenticeships available, no matter how talented or enthusiastic you may be, there are also essentially no more father / husband / man / mother / wife / woman / citizen / etc apprenticeships.

There is the feral skank ho slut and the feral skank cock on legs, we have reduced society to the level of rutting animals, and all those who possess the ability and experience to train a new generation of apprentices have been told, in no uncertain terms, like myself, to fuck off.

And we as men have listened.

My (male) kids only possible light on the horizon for anything even approaching an apprenticeship in being a human being is to join the fucking Army, and if that isn’t as fucked up as anything can get you don’t know your history.

The thing that should absolutely literally scare every western adult citizen out there into literally shitting themselves with fear is this simple fact;

I am in my 50’s, and I am the absolute last of those who can take on apprentices, whether it be studying engineering or IT or being a parent or being a son or daughter in a secure and loving family, and when I say I am the absolute last to be honest I am borderline…. really you should be looking at someone 55 or older…

But since this is my blog I will talk about me and my perspective, I am in my early 50’s, and I am the last ones who can take on apprentices simply because nobody younger has the experience / knowledge / ability.

But, why the fuck should I?

What is in it for me?

Nothing any feminazi skank ho can offer me will tempt me.

In another 15 years, maybe only 10 years, I will be too old to take on apprentices, in any of the above fields, and then it is game over….. all those skills are lost, and will have to be re-discovered, which is anything but trivial, quite the opposite actually, and then where the fuck will society be, where single psycho skank ho mummy raising feral kids who are the very definition of “stony ground” are the fucking norm, when that is all there is….

Who will keep the lights burning? Who will keep the bytes churning? Who will keep the potable water flowing?

It won’t be my problem…  maybe those whose problem it is can throw another skank ho on the pyre to keep themselves warm.

%d bloggers like this: