Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Oh Yoko
What is this all about? I gave my notice and the bastards don't even have the guts to call me back or even acknowledge that I gave them the boot. Bullshit. I went to Inglewood to instal a new sidepanel on a file cabinet...and then went to an Office depot and built two chairs and a right return for a desk. I'm ashamed to look in the mirror.
Labels:
work
box
thanks for the box of gifts. The van is actually deathly cold so I will be sleeping in that shirt you sent me. And I had to cover the van with a tarp to keep the rain out. This cold weather was exactly what I was trying to avoid. I have given my notice at the cotton field and hope to be leaving as soon as I buy my freedom. Maybe when Obama is inaugurated there will also be an emancipation proclamation for white slaves such as myself. One can hope our people will be free one day.
It's just one crisis after another here at George's. Just imagine feeble old grandpa, gasping and wheezing but STILL trying to start the fire and cook for five people and three giant dogs. There are mountains of paperwork teetering next to the fireplace. Ash is overflowing onto the carpet. Meanwhile the newest tenant is driving a car with no hood and a battery in place of the passenger seat, but instead of doing anything he is beating on a drum video game. It's totally out of control and though I try to keep his computers running they are beyond hope. And the printers are all falling apart. It's too much. That and the wheezing. He's lucky that he won't live long enough to have a stroke, though his blood pressure is high. And his blood sugar topped out at 334 the other day. 334! 210 is type 2. 334 is like a worlds record. But he insists on pie and twizzlers and soda. It's a household of the doomed.
I gotta go take the ash out of his fireplace now.
thanks again! love marco
It's just one crisis after another here at George's. Just imagine feeble old grandpa, gasping and wheezing but STILL trying to start the fire and cook for five people and three giant dogs. There are mountains of paperwork teetering next to the fireplace. Ash is overflowing onto the carpet. Meanwhile the newest tenant is driving a car with no hood and a battery in place of the passenger seat, but instead of doing anything he is beating on a drum video game. It's totally out of control and though I try to keep his computers running they are beyond hope. And the printers are all falling apart. It's too much. That and the wheezing. He's lucky that he won't live long enough to have a stroke, though his blood pressure is high. And his blood sugar topped out at 334 the other day. 334! 210 is type 2. 334 is like a worlds record. But he insists on pie and twizzlers and soda. It's a household of the doomed.
I gotta go take the ash out of his fireplace now.
thanks again! love marco
Labels:
travel
this sucks
I'm really suffering here in the van. It leaked pretty bad on my bed. Then I went to Inglewood to assemble a bookshelf right next to the projects. I was certain I'd be killed. Then I went back to Inglewood and passed the remains of a car and tell-tale bullet cones and police. Crenshaw and Manchester. The worst. Freezing. Wet.
So I gave my notice. Fuck this job. I should just stop going but I feel a week or two is still possible. But if I get gunned down because I'm trying to make $25 assembling a fucking shitty Chinese computer hutch then I'm going to punch god or the devil in the fucking face.
Then I see a nice mexican trailer for rent and I'm dying in the van and I've got to sell this other shitty van before it kills me.
This is all bullshit. The fuckers stealing peter to pay paul the car companies that built this shitty van are asking for money? Fuck them. They can't build a car worth a shit.
I'm pissed. In general. And I'm not healthy and I'm not playing the guitar. this fuck ass job. Awful. I can't wait to quit. Then I'm going south. I don't care.
How are you dealing?
So I gave my notice. Fuck this job. I should just stop going but I feel a week or two is still possible. But if I get gunned down because I'm trying to make $25 assembling a fucking shitty Chinese computer hutch then I'm going to punch god or the devil in the fucking face.
Then I see a nice mexican trailer for rent and I'm dying in the van and I've got to sell this other shitty van before it kills me.
This is all bullshit. The fuckers stealing peter to pay paul the car companies that built this shitty van are asking for money? Fuck them. They can't build a car worth a shit.
I'm pissed. In general. And I'm not healthy and I'm not playing the guitar. this fuck ass job. Awful. I can't wait to quit. Then I'm going south. I don't care.
How are you dealing?
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These were supposed to be the pictures I would post, me in the van next to a gorgeous beach. Running water. Power. Cooking beans on a stove. instead of this, a picture of me with a damn oxygen sensor of a crappy dodge van, even as Chrysler GOES OUT OF BUSINESS. what a joke! What a disaster!
I fucked it all up. Everything is fucked.
These were supposed to be the pictures I would post, me in the van next to a gorgeous beach. Running water. Power. Cooking beans on a stove. instead of this, a picture of me with a damn oxygen sensor of a crappy dodge van, even as Chrysler GOES OUT OF BUSINESS. what a joke! What a disaster!
I fucked it all up. Everything is fucked.
Labels:
van
freezing and ranting
I just wanted to play guitar and be a bum. Working has fucked everything up!
P.S. That's Genesis "Supper's Ready" playing in the background. Maybe the only good thing left in this world is old Genesis.
Labels:
van
Countdown: 16
Gave my notice today. These bitches don't even deserve two weeks. I'm not sure why I care about keeping in good standing with them. They suck shit. Send my ass to Inglewood. Jesus! Worked in a fucking ghetto. Building a bookshelf in a closet that was maybe 10 X 6. Next door I heard someone argue, "I gave you a five and five ones. I done gave you that shit!"
It was a bitch. And then I fuck up and put the damn backing on backwards, so the "faux cherry finish" was facing the wall instead
of the front. That cost me ten minutes pulling nails out of cardboard. What a shit job. What a complete waste. I'd rather do this job for free. The pay is an insult. I got my paycheck stub today and just threw it into the fire. I don't even want to know what they think this is worth to them. It won't remotely come close to what it is worth to me. But to send my ass to Inglewood was an insult. Especially when people say, "You're going to mexico? You better be careful."
Oh yeah? No shit. Careful? Oh, I must be a fucking asshole. I MUST LOOK LIKE A COMPLETE ASSHOLE! You think Inglewood, Crenshaw and Manchester, south central los Angeles is some fucking care-free carnival? huh? You think it's safe on Crenshaw and Manchester, for a white boy, in his fucing broken down mini-van? You think that's safe? I'd rather go to beirut! I'd rather run naked down the street in Mumbai. This is Los Angeles, the ghetto, it's one of the most dangerous places on earth. To open up a business you have to go to the projects and ask permission from the gangs...and pay protection. That sound safe to you?
So save your advice about being safe because unless you live in South central then you have absolutely no idea how dangerous it was for me to go build that bookshelf today. Not a clue. That $15 wouldn't even buy me a .38 special to defend myself.
But don't worry, I go back tomorrow and will probably be gunned down for my tool box and mini-van keys. Shit, you ever been in a post office that looked like it had been bombarded? Well, I went to one today and I was scared shitless.
Let me say that going to mexico, knowing that executions happen daily, is not safe. But I KNOW that going to Inglewood isn't safe either. Plain and simple. But going to mexico is at least taking control of my destiny. Going to Inglewood is just being a bitch for my company. they send me to the worst place on earth to build furniture because they don't give a fuck.
So I gave my notice. "I'm moving to the east coast. When do you want me to drop my tools off."
Plain and simple. no excuses. No bitching. Just get out while I can. So I've got about 16 days of work left. give or take. The bike assembly didn't work out at all. I saw my numbers and I was spending too much time. Below average. Bullshit. What do they care?
It's about 40 degrees here. I'm freezing every night. The big storm hit last night when it was too dark to see the rain pouring inside the van and onto my bed. The only way to know where it leaks is when it rains. So this morning was a nice adventure running around in huge cold puddles outside in my poncho trying to get a tarp that would cover the windows.
I saw that La Paz is about 70 degrees right now. So I really fucked up by delaying my departure so I could take this craptastic job. Now I'm stuck here and I might as well drag it out and try to make some money until I get robbed or killed by some thug from Compton. But sure, I'll be careful in Mexico. Cause I'm such an asshole that I don't know how to take care of myself. I'M A BIG FUCKIGN ASSHOLE THAT NEEDS YOUR ADVICE ON SAFETY! OBVIOUSLY! WHAT AN ASSHOLE I AM!
days without Mcdonalds: 10
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