Chinese Curse: “May You Live In Interesting Times.”

Greetings and Salutations!
“Driving that train, high on cocaine, Casey Jones, you better watch your speed…”
Let me tell ya…
This here train ain’t slowing down anytime soon.
Not leastways for the next (Le GULP!) 18+/- YEARS!
That being said, it’s all good to a point.

Of course that doesn’t stop ‘things’ from happening.
This A.M. it was Sapper waking me up after going down for an early morning siesta. The Doonie had me up at 0300 for a nappie change and a “feed me Da!” call. He went back down about 45 minutes later, and once I get woke up like that, it’s hard to re-crash.

So needless to say at 0900, he wakes me up and tells me that “The window on the Hyundai is on the ground!!!”

What.
The.
Fuck.

Shit.
I checked the security camera (which is pointed at that side of the car) and it was blank as far as any obvious movement. More than likely the heat and a small flaw or chip in the window. At least it happened when it was parked and NOT when Muldoon was in the car, as that’s HIS Seat. The tint kept it in one easily cleaned up piece.

I checked with Safelite and the Insurance company and said Oh fuck NO! The $1k deductible pretty much meant I’d be on the hook for the $481 that Safelite wanted, so yeah… The local Junkyard wanted $200 for just the glass, and I’d have to go and remove it myself, so the next stop was Ye Olde eBay, where lo and behold!

$84 w/free shipping.
SOLD AMERICAN!!!!
The only drawback is that the part won’t be here until the 9th.
However, to save $400 that I don’t have?
Duh!
I mean I got plenty of experience working on windows on the Boat, so this shouldn’t be too much trouble (in theory… pray for me LOL!)

SO otherwise, Muldoon is doing well. Growing like a little weed. Case in point. Here’s a picture of the day he came here, the day after the “Incident”:

He’s still a drooly lil goober, what with his toofuses coming in and all… Now at the time, I thought he was a pretty big boy.

Man… I didn’t know for shit…
Here he is, taken yesterday during his ‘tummy training time’:

WAY more alert, happier and having a ball.
I’ve been around a LOT of babies in my time, but Doonie is possibly the happiest and most grinningest kid ever. As you can also see, he’s gotten WAAAY bigger too! 28 inches long, and 26 pounds!!! He’s wearing 18-24 month old clothing…

And he’ll be six months old on the 8th of June.

God help me
At this rate, he’s going to make me look like “Medium Country”

So yep.
Been a bit too busy to be outraged at the Latest Thing. In fact I’m sort of blind as to what’s been going on, outside of the normal retardation that the world is currently operating in. It’s gotten to the point of me no longer giving a Flying Fuck at a Rolling Donut so to speak. I got bigger issues to worry about amiright?

The market is still doing it’s thing that I can tell. My own playing games has me in the hole by about $6 on a $200 investment from about 6 months ago. The one that is doing well, and actually the best out of all my picks was USA Rare Earth Inc. (USAR). I bought 2 shares ‘in’ at $47 and it’s now at $62+/-. It’s the only one that’s been on an upward tick so to speak.

I mean I figured that by now I’d have gone completely busted. I’m like the WORST stonk-player in the market.

OK
Bit of an update.
Some motherfucker tried to STEAL MY RIDE!
I just came back in from going to move the car into it’s storage space to keep it off the road until I can get the glass replaced. I opened the drivers side door, and looked in, and thought “Why is there a big black plastic ‘thing’ on the passengers seat?”

Then I noticed the steering column all torn open and up.

OH MAN! Am I heated.

I called the fuzz, so Officer Jimmy is supposed to be coming by. Probably worthless, but I’ll probably need a police report to get the insurance to kick in. $1000 deductible.

Dammit.

I have a sneaking suspicion that the perp on this one was/is that skinny Nog that dumped the car in my yard a few weeks ago. Supposedly he got busted but my experience with the Just-Us system is that the fucker probably got freed by some “Cut ’em Loose Bruce” judge… considering how small the window is, as well as the fact that NONE of the security cams caught ANYTHING on them, which means the guy snaked between the seats to get into the driver’s position.

Where he then fucked up the column.
Not sure if it’s something I can fix or not
I haven’t touched anything, nor have I even tried to start it yet. I’m really mad.
Any bets this was a ‘revenge theft’?
Sort of glad however that I didn’t catch the guy
Y’all can use your imagination as to how I’d deal with him.
In MINECRAFT mind you, I’d probably get his vitals. Where he lives, his parents names, wife/GF names. Then do the Islamic Thing and cut his left fucking hand off with a Kukri that was gifted to me by my Gurkhas I worked with in Basra… then cauterize it with a blowtorch, drop him at the ER, and let him know that IF he talks, his whole bloodline gets erased.

In MINECRAFT mind you.
Now I have to wait for the Cops. So let me close with a funny story while I wait for Jimmy.

Be Me. No Longer-in-the-Sandbox Iraq Contractor. Got me a new stateside gig working as a Supervisor in a Call Center in Tampa, Florida. Florida, while not quite as hot as Iraq (and at least no one was trying to actively kill me) in the Call Center, it got a tad warm in the Spring/Summer Months.

The building was one of those GIANT assed repurposed malls that failed in the late 80’s. They built it up into call centers, but from what I could gather, they never updated the Air Conditioning. Now, add a staff of about 3,000 people packed asshole to elbow, and by the time spring was winding down, it was usually about 80-85 degrees inside, even with the AC running full bore. Hot and occasionally ‘whiffy’… some people never seems to maintain good hygiene I swear… Anywhoo…. Thankfully the dress code was pretty lenient and as long as your shirt wasn’t offensive, and the shorts weren’t too torn up, you could get away with it.

I mean it’s Fucking Florida right?

As a “Boss” I had to wear a polo and ‘nice shorts’ and usually went with my faithful cargoes. MY Boss, the Regional Manager was a retired Lt Col. (25 years) and I was a retired CPL, (10 years medical) and both of us were Airborne, so we got along like gangsta AF. Life was looking pretty sweet. Good job, GREAT Godlike Boss, home w/the fam nightly, good team, having fun…

…he said as the bottom fell out.

We came in one Monday in April to find out the WHOLE COMPANY had been ‘consolidated’ and ‘bought out’ and ‘new rules’ were inbound, to include allllllllll sorts of stupid shit to include a dress code. Now, understanding this, we realized we were well and truly fucked. Our HR bitch, and yes, she was a bitch, was a Bitches Bitch. A politically correct sub-70 IQd barely literate dolt who knew she was stupid, but reveled in her power. No violation of policy or peccadillo was too small to overlook. She kept a list of how many she fired and would show it off proudly for her ‘contribution to insuring smooth running of the business by removing unmotivated individuals.’ during Staff Meetings.

Think: Big, Fat, Ugly, Tattooed Jabba-the-Hutt looking DEI Nog beee-atcha. With a side order of vindictiveness and stupidity.

It was hate-at-first sight for the both of us, what with me being a Whytte Cisnormative Hetro-Male Warmonger/Oppressor who “din’ give her enuff respect”.

Yeah… OK. Fuck Her Just Because.

So, Summer inbound and we (menfolk) NOW have to wear Polos with undershirt (WTF???) and long pants. (no jeans, again WTF!?!) Wimmen had to wear blouses, long pants (no jeans) or a skirt. My Boss was highly sympathetic, but he too, was a victim of this insanity. For three weeks we made our case to corporate who told us “tough noogies”. No shorts/t-shirts anymore… goodbye comfort, welcome to Hellscape, population: Us… We lost a LOT of good staff who quit rather than put up with this shit, and Jabba was gleeful in separating them.

Now mind you, I was an E-4 in the Army. A dog robber… a dope dealer… the Battalion thief… think Radar O’reilly from MASH when he was mailing the jeep home or wheeling/dealing toilet paper.

Not ACTUAL ‘dope’ but Essential Items and whatnot…

Ferengi Rules of Acquisition and all that (yeah I’m a geek)… I was the guy who found ‘loopholes’ The Colonel, after the third fruitless meeting with HIS Boss (who was just as frustrated as he was) he told me to start using my Dark Side Jedi Arts to overcome this stupid dress code shit.

Took me a few days, and I had to put a bit of cash in, but I went to MY team, and got ALL the males to go online and buy a Kilt.

Got the girls (who wanted to) to get a micro-kilt… I had to subsidize some of it as some of my folks were barely making a living, but what the hell right? I mean if you’re going to go full retard, then go all the way.

Yep. Kilts.

Now mind you, this was LONG before current day ‘stuff’… up til them, the only time you’d usually see a kilt was on St. Paddys Day, never mind a dress or whatnot on a guy. Now I had a ‘formal Black Watch kilt’ with Regimental Sporran from the actual Black Watch Regiment, who I worked with extensively in Basra Iraq…LOOOOONG horsehair sporran, silver chains, the whole nine yards of gorgeousness.

When I told The Colonel my plan, he was gleeful, and told me HE had a kilt in ACU (the gray Army camo) that he had had made in Iraq and wore to events over there. We coordinated it for when the Big Wigs were coming in on a walking tour.

On “K-Day”, my whole Team, to include my Boss, we were ALL decked like it was a Glasgow Bar on a National Holiday. Jabba predictably lost her collective shit…. it was great. In the Army, it’s called a “Complete loss of Military Bearing” For her it was “Screaming like a fucking loon that ‘You can’t dooooooo Dat!!!! Dat’s aginst the ruuuuuuuuuules!!!!”

The Big Bosses were not amused by her to say the least.

Sweet Sweet Revenge was Ours.

The HEAD of ALL HR hustled Jabba out of the room, not sure what was said but I don’t think she ever spoke a solitary word to me again, except when the company folded. I jumped ship when they were looking for ‘volunteers’ to bail… I got 3 months severance, insurance and never had to see Jabba again. And yeah, we got to go back to ‘relaxed dress code’ i.e. t-shirts/shorts after what was called “The Kilt Incident”… It actually helped that the “Brass” took the tour in three-piece suits and were positively melting as they wandered around…

Me?
I kept wearing mine as I dig me some Kiltage, and had a few Utilikilts over and above… what can I say?

Win-Win in my book….
So yeah… hope you enjoyed!
Me? I’m still waiting on the cops.
To the point they called and said “Sorry we’re running late!”
Dammit
Why can’t life be boring for once?
Being a mortar magnet gets old after a while…
More Later
Big Country