Your cocktail sir,





2002-10-01 - 10:38 p.m.

Crappy Diaryland Server.

It ate my entry. It was about the temp that I have tomorrow. And my gluttenous feelings of power.

It really wasn't all that good. But it's gone now. Stupid Back button. And the cache? What up buddy? Were we snoozing when the can't connect to server came knocking? A little less down time with Stile Project thumbnails and more DOING YOUR JOB! And don't try to blame your coding. You make me sick.

So, yeah. I hate trying to recreate entries. But I get a temp tomorrow. Who Iím naming Edgar, regardless of race, creed, or sex. Itís better than boy. Unless I could pull off a southern accent and chew on some straw. Which wonít be happening. I get them for three days, although for one of those days I will be attending Journalcon, and thus will miss out on the wacky things that will go wrong in my absence. Iím looking forward to coming in on things that look worse than they really are, suds, and sexual misunderstandings. In the end though weíll pull together and win the day or something. The last temp I worked with was not under my direct control, she was a rather serious Lesbian that looked very much like my Uncleís sister (who isnít my Aunt, ah a riddle!) only she had a pair of twin torpedos that could sink a couple of battleships. And they were right at eye level when I would swing around. It became comical. After her stint with us, she went to another department that eventually hired her. Then, when the director of that department left to head up a startup company, she went with her (an offer I stupidly turned down) and is now doing really well. This is a totally different direction than the previous entry. Iím flustered now. Where was I going? Who knows really.

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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