I predict an early winter....

Well, at least in my neck of the woods. I have no empirical evidence; no hard numbers: just my instinct. I know that I've mentioned the unique weather/climate pattern that I live in.

In fact, I've prolly rambled on about it too much on this blog.

Despite the nasty heatwave:



Yes, that's 1:00 AM thank you....

I heard the geese a couple of nights ago. Now, if you don't live on a migratory pattern, that may not mean much to you, but if you do, you can judge the seasons by when the birds start flying.....

So, yeah....we're gonna get fucking hammered. Well, I hope we wont....

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Has anyone been watching preseason football? I've seen a bit here and there, and am surprised to find my Raiders 4-0. I hate that Dallas beat the '49ers.

Well, truth be told, I hate just about everything Dallas, as far as football in concerned.

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So, yeah...not much else. Although I did run across an antique electronic device.

I've taken some pictures of it, and I'll post em....provided I can make all of it work out.

Buenos con queso,

T.

Well, lets see where this goes....

The party was fun, and I ate waaaay too much. I was so full that I came home and took a nap.

I love being an adult and getting to schedule my own naps. Some days, it's all that gets me through. Of course, not having to take a nap makes the entire nap thing more acceptable.

Anyhoo...on to the photos, I hope.

Isn't she a doll:



Here's another shot of the little princess:



Instead of making a traditional cake, my sister made cupcakes:



And another:



Of course eating the cake is where the fun is:



Heh:



Oh, and have I mentioned lately how much I love the fact that my sister works at Starbucks? Do you know how long it's been since I've had to buy coffee? Here's the latest installment (and doesnt include the 2 lbs we already had):



Well, it looks like the damn site is going to cooperate. Don't blame me for not posting, blame Blogger. This time it's not my fault, I swear.

Time for a large steaming mug of wake up, so have fun you crazy kids.

T.

Blogger has been pissing me off lately....

I've tried three (3) times to post some photos recently. Everytime, blogger has puked on it.

I'm going to try again in the morning....or more accurately, when I wake up. If Blogger does another nosedive, I'm going to host them over at ibucket, so expect some monster images.....

T.

I've written you a little Haiku

Lines flashing on hold.

Stupidity rules the roost

Must be Saturday.

I don't know if I've told you all this or not, but Saturday is usually the burning bag of dog shit day at work. It never fails. The call count goes through the roof, and sadly, the smarts drop through the floor.

For instance, I had to tell 2 people that today was Saturday. I mean, I'm pretty relaxed about schedules, rules, and the like, but for fuck's sake, how do you not know what fucking day it is?

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In other news, tomorrow/today is Ava's 1st birthday. What a rush. I can remember the day she was born very clearly. It sounds cliched to say, but it seems like yesterday. Time really does fly, doesn't it?

Happily I have the day off, and Pops and I will be attending the party. It should be a hoot, and I'll try and get some photos to pop on here.

Well, being as tired as I am, that's all I'm giving you tonight. Look for me tomorrow (Sunday).

Buenos con queso,

T.

Drunk by noon....

That was my goal for yesterday, and I was up to the task. I can't remember the last time I had a Thursday off, and strangely enough, both Pops and I had paychecks to cash.

I got paid on Wednesday, and his SS check got here on the same day. I can't remember the last time that happened either.

I guess I should mention that the Pinon Plaza (my preferred casino hangout for those of you that dont know) was recently sold to a new company. As with any takeover there have been some changes. One of their big things is a conversion to ticket in/ticket out machines.

If you don't live in Nevada, this prolly means nothing to you, so let me elaborate. Usually when you hit the cash/credit button, the air is filled with a metallic clanking sound as your machine spits out a seemingly endless stream of what ever coin your machine uses. The ticket ones, however, print, well tickets.

There is a bar code, and a dollar amount on the ticket. You take the ticket to the change counter, and viola, they hand you your money. Soon to come are the atm-like devices that you just plug your ticket into, and it spits out your cash.

You may wonder why I'm telling you all this, and you're right to wonder. The problem with the conversion is that some of the machines (read the ones that pops and I always play) are not compatible with the new ticket technology. Imagine our chagrin when we arrived yesterday to find that our entire bank of machines (6 total) had been removed.

Not happy barely begins to describe my state of mind at this discovery. We cashed our checks, wondering what we were going to do. Happily, I found a bank of nickle machines with our prefered game (triple trouble keno if you must know) and we started playing.

Pops hit several 4 spots, and I hit a 5 ($40.00) and all the playing was puncuated by the timely arrival of the cocktail waitress. You have to love an industry that tries to get you drunk. Of course, there's an ultierior motive: drunk people tend to have lower inhibitions, and are thus more likely to spend more money than they planned.

Not so us. We walked out winners, and that's all good.

It's been a while since I've posted any photos, but I have a few in the camera that I'm getting ready to show you.

Buenos con queso,

T.

The Crissy Procedure...

The first time I heard that phrase, it was used in humorous fashion by Tammy.

I'm sure you remember Tammy. I've told you a lot about her. Well, Tammy had a friend named Chrissy. She was a wonderful person, full of life, full of love. I only met her a few times, but I liked her immensely.

She had a condition though. I don't know what it was called, but it involved the level of iron in her blood. Apparently, her blood didn't regulate itself correctly, and the iron would accumulate to deadly levels if not taken care of.

Just recently, she was trying a new drug. An experimental one. I don't have all the details, but the upshot is this:

On July 10th of this year, Tammy received news that Chrissy was in the hospital, and not doing very well. Of course she called to talk to her. They've known each other forever.

Well, while Tammy was on hold ( a very lengthy one) Chrissy passed away.

I was in tears as Tammy related this tale of woe to me on Sunday last. In fact I'm tearing up now as I type this.

Please join with me in praying for, and wishing good thoughts for Tammy, Chrissy's mother, and all those whose lives she touched.

I didn't know her as well as some, but I'll miss her forever.

T.

Pete's Liver Store.

Gah...I hate working Saturdays, and today was no exception. We had someone call in sick, so we were a person short most of the day, and tho it wasn't a typical busy as fuck Saturday, we could really have used the 3rd person.

I was doing some thinking today, inspired mostly by some of the rude and stupid people that I have to deal with on a daily basis, and I finally decided to codify a few things.

There are things that happen with alarming frequency, and I've decided to bitch about them here.

Because I can.

They are in no particular order, just how they came to me as I was jotting them down.

I call them:

The Rules

1. When calling to request a phone/fax number, have a piece of paper and a working writing implement of some kind handy. Don't ask me for a number, then ask me to hold on while you get a pen. Get a fucking pen first!!

2 If you are calling a business you know to be closed to leave a message for them to get during business hours, or to have an on call doctor/nurse call you back, know your own FUCKING phone number. And don't use the excuse "heh...I never call myself." Yeah, I don't call my house much either, but I know my fucking number.

3. Do not talk over the person trying to take the message. I know what you are trying to tell me is important, and I promise, if you just let me get some basic information out of the way, I'll take down anything you have to say, trivial as it may be.

4

LISTEN

to me. If I ask for your name, do not, I repeat, do not tell me the patients name. I'll get to that, but whoever I get a hold of for you is going to want to know who to ask for.

5. When you are asked for a contact number, it is NOT necessary for you to tell me if it is your home number, your mobile number, or your brother's best friend's cousin's pager number. I don't give a fuck. Just give me the bloody number.

6 If you have AAA and find yourself in a situation where you need assistance, whether it be for a tow, a jumpstart, or a tire change call AAA. That's why you pay them 49 bucks a year.

7 When I tell you that I don't know anything about a company's policies, practices, or rental properties, please do not take that as an invitation to go ahead and ask a question about same. I really don't know.

8. Don't be rude. I honestly don't care how upset you are at the company or it's employees. I don't work for them, and your yelling at me only decreases what little sympathy I may have for you, and makes it less likely that I'll go the extra mile to try and get your issue resolved.

9. When you ask who's on call for an office and I tell you do not, at that point, ask me if I can get ahold of soandso. I can't. I have to get the person on call. That's what on call fucking means. Deal with it.

10. Make a choice, why don't you. If you call and get me, and I say "well the office is closed, I can fax a message over for them, or you can call back during business hours" don't say "ok" as your response. Give me something to work with.

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Ok....That's all I have from today, but I'm sure that there will be more. I'm going to show my notes to the other operators and see if they have anything to add.

In other news, I talked to Tammy today, and I got some very sad news. I'm still trying to process it so it will be a bit before I post about it. Besides, it deserves a post all it's own.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, the title of this post is directly related to Rule # 4. We dispatched a tow today, and the driver called back to say that he did not know where 'Pete's Liver Store' was. We called to get clarification of the location, and discovered it to be in front of 'Pete's Liquor Store.'

Now, I don't know if it was the roadside service company, the driver, or my operator that got that wrong, but it all amounts to the same.

Anyhoozle, hope you all had a good Sunday.

T.

Sigh....

Well, the Pinon was the winner today. I was hoping to have a great drunken exposition for you all, but sadly, no.

I managed to get a few beers, and had a bit of fun, but neither Pops nor I could hit a single ticket today.

No love, no love at all.

Pops did make an apple cobbler tho. I haven't had any yet, but it smells divine. We bought some vanilla ice cream to go with it, and I'm happy to say that as a guy, I'm totally secure with the fact that tonight's dinner (which will be eaten at a very late hour) will be cobbler ala mode.

Yes, that's right. I'm having cobbler for dinner. You have a problem with that, you can take it up with my agent.

He's in Cabo right now, trying to get me a good price on a summer home, so it may be a bit tough to reach him. If you find him, please ask him to return my Rolex. He said he needed it to impress the locals, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he's using it to get laid.

Anyhoozle, I just thought I'd update, even if it's not the drunken diatribe I was hoping to roll out for you.

Buenos con queso,

T.

Sometimes I hate being me....

Now, don't read anything dark or mysterious into that. I'm not having a crisis of self or anything. I'm not eating a bowl of valium for breakfast, or running my car in a garage.

I'm just sick of being reliable, efficent, and a good worker.

In case you're wondering where this is going, I'll go ahead and clue you in. Today is supposed to be my day off. However, the boss mentioned in a previous post wanted to get an earlier start on the day so she called me.

Last night.

While I was at work and had to take the call.

She asked me to work a short shift for her. 8:00 am to 12:30. Now, it's all ot (as is any day one of us gets called in) but it's also pretty fucking early for me, considering I got home at 11 fucking 30 last night.

It's also payday, and I plan on getting a bit sloppy later, so look for a drunken rant.

FUCK!!!!!

Time to get ready for work

T.