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| Klooch Man... |
 Posted: Sun Oct 26, 2008 9:11 pm |
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Guest
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"once i cash the last of these suits' checks, i promise to reveal (to
at least you, since you asked a while ago) what these lunatics have
been throwing cash at me to do."
I want to hazard a random guess that the Government Printing Office
has hired a person with good language skills to translate, for
example, the FDA's Composition of Foods manual into Punjabi, for
example. Although wilder possibilities clamour for attention.
Mi aerodeslizador esta lleno de anguilas. |
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| ^,,^... |
| Posted: Tue Oct 28, 2008 12:55 am |
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Guest
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sheesh, my brother. "little rattle stilt" – that is a tad harsh.
though, in a way, perhaps accurate. in a way. my work at present is
not to weave straw into gold, but rather to weave a few dried blades
of grass into great wads of straw.
well, since you asked with such ferocity, sure. simple statistics
make the chances of the suits ever reading this rather remote quantum
physics.
so here’s my current gig. my contract is to write the “autobiography”
of a guy i never met, a guy who died almost two years ago. a guy who,
to the best of my knowledge (and after much research), no one ever
truly met. even himself.
i flew to another state to interview this woman who served as his
secretary for more than a decade. took her to a very pricey (though
in the end tedious) local restaurant, and at the end of a bottle of
rather expensive wine all she had to say about the guy was “he was
polite.” two glasses of port later, all the more i could get from her
was “well, he was always well groomed.” and that was it. after 12
years of working with him. i had to all but carry this charming
senior up her porch to hand her over to her equally charming and very
senior husband.
the “suits” are, in this instance, the standard cluster-fook of the
standard big dc law firm. one of whom is the executer of this guy’s
will. and this guy, in his will, directed an undefined portion of his
rather massive estate to ‘finishing his autobiography’ an
autobiography he never actually started. the suits want a minumum of
200 pages of finished text. which will, of course, never be available
on amazon.com the suits need only one nicely bound copy to justify
their, ok - our, fees. i am certain no one will ever actually read
it. certainly not me.
for this i get us$60/hr -- plus expenses. i do know enough to have
turned the latter (the espenses part) into a rather big chunk of my
take home pay. for the deal we worked out includes my hotel room and
3 meals a day. and these suits vision of a modest hotel room and 3
modest restaurant meals a day works out to a per diem of many hundreds
of dollars. by living at the local big earl’s stopnflop and eating
mostly canned tuna fish wrapped in stale tortillas, i get to bank the
rather substantial difference.
to these us$300+ suits, of course, such an hourly and per diem are
absolute chump change. And they, of course, are charging staggering
fees to oversee this ‘project’ -- even more once i insisted that my
name never appear on the finished anywhere in or even near the
finished turd. they had absolutely no trouble with this, as (cha-
ching!) they quickly nominated one of their own to be “the editor”.
as such, i have no doubt that this turd will cost this guy’s estate
close to a million bucks. i also have no doubt that no one in his
food chain will notice, let alone care. for this guy took his rather
massive inheritance and turned it into something far, far larger.
that is what i myself refered to as a "'project simply that silly and
insane."
~~~
ok, now that i have exposed myself – at some (admittedly small) risk
to my current cash flow, there are 3 things i ask of you.
first, acknowledge that in this peculiar instance, the suits picked
the ideal person to weave nothing into wads of straw. you have
certainly endured enough of my prattle to know.
second, if the suits get wind of this and i am suddenly in the soup
line, i get to crash on your sofa through the long wet winter, drink
your beer, and basicly lay there in my underpants prattling to
myself.
and third, define for me precisely what is it that you want of me, my
brother? what it is that apparently irritates you so?
have i been to many of the best mecca's of climbing? i have. have i,
once 'there', ever done anything truly worthy of note? i have not.
this i have taken pains to make rather clear. no? review all of my
copious prattle in this small pond.
and the butt of my jokes has been, to date... who? the butt of
pretty much all of my jokes has been -- me. no? those few who were
not me were effectively anonymous. do take a moment to check this
out. i have, if for no other reason than you inspired me to do so. i
am certain of the answer.
so that makes me, what? a troll? do you think i am trying to create
chaos among those last 7 or 8 serious people who read this newsgroup?
to my eye the trolls abandoned this ng long before i arrived.
am i a narcissist? do i want to be worshipped as a climbing god?
well, i'd perhaps have to produce some evidence that i've done
something godlike -- which i rather clearly haven't; that and i'd have
to define myself as a specific entity so my minions would know who to
worship. only i've done back flips to remain anonymous, no? who,
forever, after all my (too) many words, always plays the ass?
precisely my point. and as long as all computers continue to come
with a del key, it’s not like you or anyone actually has to read my
drivel.
in the here and now, in the specifics of recent posts, perhaps you
might consider this: how much does it cost to buy a r/t plane ticket
to new deli or bangkok - this from either coast of north america
(think la and nyc -- it's up to you to get to either). and once in
either destination, how much does it cost to get to the bronze age?
and once in the bronze age, how much does it cost to stay for a month,
or for many months. look up the per capita income of bronze age
nations. you're a smart and capable guy, look it up. when you do you
will recognize that one could flip burgers in a paper hat ('here') and
with that do what i done.
~~~
what else do you think inspires me? do you think i am cruising for a
prom date? if so, why is it that i have never so much as committed a
keystroke to contact one? ask around. i am, in fact, rather happily
relationshipped -- have been for years now. so no, that's not it
either.
that said, i repeat my central question: what is it, precisely, that
you want of me, my brother?
you're a wicked smart person, so do, please, deconstruct me. perhaps
i'll learn something. that would be great. you've taught me a few
good things to date -- more would be an even greater gift. so go
wild. if you really hurt my feelings, i can always run away back into
my precious anonymity.
sheesh, the rain and this dull town and ridiculous gig are making me
rather grim, aren’t they. great. and now i have just enough time to
go for a run, in the rain, before reporting to the suits.
outstanding. sheesh…
canis fidelus est,
rumpelstiltskin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quote: Mi aerodeslizador esta lleno de anguilas.
it has nothing to do with eels. or the moon. it has to do with an
excuse to simply loose myself in memories on an otherwhise dark and
rainy day. |
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| ^,,^... |
| Posted: Tue Oct 28, 2008 1:09 am |
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Guest
|
sheesh, my brother. "little rattle stilt" – that is a tad harsh.
though, in a way, perhaps accurate. in a way. my work at present is
not to weave straw into gold, but rather to weave a few dried blades
of grass into great wads of straw.
well, since you asked with such ferocity, sure. simple statistics
make the chances of the suits ever reading this rather remote quantum
physics.
so here’s my current gig. my contract is to write the “autobiography”
of a guy i never met, a guy who died almost two years ago. a guy who,
to the best of my knowledge (and after much research), no one ever
truly met. even himself.
i flew to another state to interview this woman who served as his
secretary for more than a decade. took her to a very pricey (though
in the end tedious) local restaurant, and at the end of a bottle of
rather expensive wine all she had to say about the guy was “he was
polite.” two glasses of port later, all the more i could get from her
was “well, he was always well groomed.” and that was it. after 12
years of working with him. i had to all but carry this charming
senior up her porch to hand her over to her equally charming and very
senior husband.
the “suits” are, in this instance, the standard cluster-fook of the
standard big dc law firm. one of whom is the executer of this guy’s
will. and this guy, in his will, directed an undefined portion of his
rather massive estate to ‘finishing his autobiography’ an
autobiography he never actually started. the suits want a minumum of
200 pages of finished text. which will, of course, never be available
on amazon.com the suits need only one nicely bound copy to justify
their, ok - our, ridiculous fees. i am certain no one will ever
actually read it. certainly not me.
for this i get us$60/hr -- plus expenses. i do know enough to have
turned the latter (the expenses part) into a rather big chunk of my
take home pay. for the deal we worked out includes my hotel room and
3 meals a day. and these suits vision of a modest hotel room and 3
modest restaurant meals a day works out to a per diem of many hundreds
of dollars. by living at the local big earl’s stopnflop and eating
mostly canned tuna fish wrapped in stale tortillas, i get to bank the
rather substantial difference.
to these us$300+/hr suits, of course, such an hourly and per diem are
absolute chump change. and they, of course, are charging staggering
fees to oversee this ‘project’ -- even more once i insisted that my
name never appear on the finished anywhere in or even near the
finished turd. they had absolutely no trouble with this, as (cha-
ching!) they quickly nominated one of their own to be “the editor”.
as such, i have no doubt that this turd will cost this guy’s estate
close to a million bucks. i also have no doubt that no one in his
food chain will notice, let alone care. for this guy took his rather
massive inheritance and turned it into something far, far larger.
that is what i myself refered to as a 'project' simply that silly and
insane.
ok, now that i have exposed myself – at some (admittedly small) risk
to my current cash flow, there are 3 things i ask of you.
first, acknowledge that in this peculiar instance, the suits picked
the ideal person to weave nothing into wads of straw. you have
certainly endured enough of my prattle to know.
second, if the suits get wind of this and i am suddenly in the soup
line, i get to crash on your sofa through the long wet winter, drink
your beer, and basicly lay there in my underpants prattling to
myself.
and third, define for me precisely what is it that you want of me, my
brother? what it is that apparently irritates you so?
have i been to many of the best mecca's of climbing? i have. have i,
once 'there', ever done anything truly worthy of note? i have not.
this i have taken pains to make rather clear. no? review all of my
copious prattle in this small pond.
and the butt of my jokes has been, to date... who? the butt of
pretty much all of my jokes has been -- me. no? those few who were
not me were effectively anonymous. do take a moment to check this
out. i have, if for no other reason than you inspired me to do so. i
am certain of the answer.
so that makes me, what? a troll? do you think i am trying to create
chaos among those last 7 or 8 serious people who read this newsgroup?
to my eye the trolls abandoned this ng long before i arrived.
am i a narcissist? do i want to be worshipped as a climbing god?
well, i'd perhaps have to produce some evidence that i've done
something godlike -- which i rather clearly haven't; that and i'd have
to define myself as a specific entity so my minions would know who to
worship. only i've done back flips to remain anonymous, no? who,
forever, after all my (too) many words, always plays the ass in my
posts? precisely my point. and as long as all computers continue to
come with a del key, it’s not like you or anyone actually has to read
my drivel.
in the here and now, in the specifics of recent posts, perhaps you
might consider this: how much does it cost to buy a r/t plane ticket
to new deli or bangkok - this from either coast of north america
(think la and nyc -- it's up to you to get to either). and once in
either destination, how much does it cost to get to the bronze age?
and once in the bronze age, how much does it cost to stay for a month,
or for many months. look up the per capita income of bronze age
nations. you're a smart and capable guy, look it up. when you do you
will recognize that one could flip burgers in a paper hat ('here') and
with that do what i done.
what else do you think inspires me? do you think i am cruising for a
prom date? if so, why is it that i have never so much as committed a
keystroke to contact one? ask around. i am, in fact, rather happily
relationshipped -- have been for years now. so no, that's not it
either.
that said, i repeat my central question: what is it, precisely, that
you want of me, my brother? you're a wicked smart person, so do,
please, deconstruct me. perhaps i'll learn something. that would be
great. you've taught me a few good things to date -- more would be an
even greater gift. so go wild. if you really hurt my feelings, i can
always run away back into my precious anonymity.
sheesh, the rain and this dull town and ridiculous gig are making me
rather grim, aren’t they. great. and now i have just enough time to
go for a run, in the rain, before reporting to the suits.
outstanding. sheesh…
canis fidelus est,
rumpelstiltskin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quote: Mi aerodeslizador esta lleno de anguilas.
It has nothing to do with eels. Or the moon, for that matter. It has
to do with a small excuse to loose myself in memories on an otherwise
dark and rainy day. |
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