The Fucking Router and The Coffee Place.

Ok, so I’m gonna start off this post with an apology for my lack of posting. I know its been damn near two weeks since you’ve heard from me and I’m fucking sorry for that. Sadly, I’ve had fuck-all to write about, since I’ve had fuck-all to do. I’m also going to go ahead and let ya’ll know that it’s probably not going to change much anytime soon, but for a different reason. The router at the house is broken.

The fucking cable guy was supposed to come today to fix it, between 10 and 11, which was fine. I called up at work and told them I may be a little late, and was told that 11:30 was the latest I could be. Fine, dude should be here before that, right? Well I fucking sit there on the couch until 11:15 and the fucker still hasn’t shown up. Fuck it, I have to go and head for work. Well I get home after putting in my 7 hours and discover a hanger on the door from the cable guy, who apparently showed up at 11:45. Fucking A.

So I talk to Neo and Arec, who then inform me that the guys told them this was the last service date available before at least the 1st, and that the first day that any of us will be home that they can come out is the 9th. Well fuck me sideways. I know I know, losing internet may not be a huge thing to most, but it hit me hard. Mostly because I promised someone I’d get something done today and sent off to them (a story for a character of theirs). And on top of that, I was already pissed off since I’d had a shit shift in tips.

But, my savior came in the form of the local coffee shop and free wireless internet. Oh and not to mention the cute barista who told me I can stay here until she’s done cleaning around 11. So, not such a big loss after all, eh? Anyway, I may or may not have any more posts for ya’ll in the near future, depending on when I can find time to visit Jive and Java. Night bitches, I’m off to finish my story.

The News

I didn’t get the dispatcher job. I honestly really don’t have much else to say about it, mostly cause I can’t really think at the moment.

The Brain and The Superheroes

Well as I’m sure you are all aware at this point, my brain is one odd mother fucker. I start thinking on something and then bam, it gets stuck up there, rolling around and sucking up what little thinking power I have! I already told ya’ll all about the apocolypse shit, which had been doing the same thing. But recently? Its been all about the superpowers baby.

I dunno why, but superpowers and getting them have always been something that has fascinated me. I mean hell, why wouldn’t it? Just waking up one day and -bam- you could fly. Or turn invisable, or have super strength. Or whatever the hell your ideal power is. Actually, why don’t you go ahead and tell me, eh? I’ll tell you mine if you promise to tell me yours.

I trust that you will, so here goes. My ideal, and sadly I’ve thought this a lot, would have to be the ability to Teleport, instantly, as far as I want. Yes, like Jumper (shitty movie, cool idea). Hell, think about it, if you could teleport anywhere, anytime, what other power could beat that?  Now it would have to be a specific sort, of course. You’d want to be able to talk people/things with you when you go, or else it wouldn’t be much damn fun at all.

And hell, when you’re telling me what you would want, go ahead and tell me what you’d do with it too. Cause thats the other question there, would you be a Hero or a Villian? Me? Fucked if I know. I do know the temptation to steal just about anything in the world would be fucking huge. And don’t tell me it wouldn’t, cause you know you’d be thinking about popping into fort knox for some handy little gold bars.

The Job and The Father

Ok, so I’ve worked two more shifts since I last wrote and have to revise my previous comments on it just a little bit. I worked a rush shift yesterday, and finally did significantly better on tips. This was partial because I had more than one fucking run, and partially because my occasionally wonderful (but always loved) father decided to call into the store and place an order for delivery. To my house, on his credit card, with a 30 dollar tip. Al-fucking-right! Thank you pops! Dinner and food for 2 weeks.

Now today, on another morning shift, I learned the real meaning of the “Day driver shift”. See what that phrase really means is “Day Store’s-bitch shift.” See, the way the shift actually goes is do a bunch of random ass cleaning, cooking, filling and sweeping, with the occasionally delivery punctuated in there. Its not necessarily bad, cause I’m getting paid to do it, but it still kinda fucking sucks.

Oh and I may have fucked the store up bad, on complete accident. See, apparently corporate calls the store every week to do a test call and see if each store is upselling wings. Guess who got that call on their first ever time answering the phone? You got it, little ole me. And fuck no I didn’t upsell wings, it was my first time taking an order and no one had even -told- me to upsell wings. But I sure as fuck ain’t going to forget now.

Well that is it for tonight folks, check back tomorrow for random ass thoughts from TheDak man’s brain. Probably about superheroes. Or maybe fears, I dunno.

The First And Second Days.

Well, here I am, fresh off my second official day of work. And overall? I’d say I like it about as much as any other job I’ve ever had. The one complaint I have is a pretty basic one.

I applied and was hired as a Driver, mostly because its one of the few food service jobs I can stand. But in the 10 hours or so I’ve worked so far, I’ve had two freaking deliveries. Which blows. See one of the reason I like being a driver is because I get to take home cash at the end of every shift, which is totally preferable to waiting 2 weeks or so for a paycheck. I get a bit of cash for gas and food during the weeks, and my paycheck can go towards my bills, or whatever.

And I’m not gonna lie, I was really counting on getting some cash from the last two shifts, would have really helped on the whole “eating something other than Ramen” thing. Wanna know how much I took home total? From 10 hours of work?

7 dollars, exactly 3.50 both days. Not even enough for a freaking meal somewhere other than Taco Bell. So needless to say, I’ve got my damn fingers crossed, praying that I make some decent cash tomorrow night. Which I should, friday is always good for pizza.

Oh and sorry for being flaky with the updates, I’ll try to be better.

The New Job and The Manager

Well people, the suspense is over, you can release those breaths you held in for my benefit. I officially have myself a job! I’m going to be doing something i am already oh so familiar with, delivering pizzas. For round table pizza, specifically.

To be honest, I was a little bit worried when I went in. I walked up, manager was on the phone and asked me to wait a second, and at the time I was pretty sure she recognized me. Well I’m sitting there, twiddling my thumbs while I wait and 4 more people walk in, all asking about interviews. And all 4 get told theres no interviews today…. well fuck. So I walk on up, wait til she’s off the phone and ask her about it. And get told. “No no no, I asked you back today specifically so I could give you an interview.”

Well fuck yes, now I’m excited. Cause that answers sounds almost to me as good as already having the damn job. Go through the interview, and most of the questions were just a formality to make sure I wasn’t insane. 10 minutes later and the job was mine, I start thursday at 3. Hell fucking yes.

But the story doesn’t end there, boys and girls, oh no. See after I already had the job, she mentioned how she was always trying to get the round table pizza name out and around in Fallon. She mentioned they tried doorhangers, which seem to work pretty well so I casually mentioned lawnbombs, which she fucking loved. (For those you who don’t know, lawnbombs are flyers rolled tight with a rubber band around them, which are thrown in peoples lawns. Easy, huh?) So we talked a bit more about ways to better her business, maybe 20 minutes or so.

So now I’m here go-t0 idea guy, and I don’t even start until thursday. I can hardly even believe that yesterday I was feeling down cause I didn’t even have a job yet.

The End and The Mess

Since I haven’t had much to talk about on here lately, figured I might as well go ahead and let ya’ll in on whats been floating around my head as of this last week or so. For some reason,  my brain has been fixating on the apocalypse and super powers. Not necessarily at the same time, mind you, but they’ve both grabbed a hold and refused to let go. I think I’m going to focus on the end of the world for today, and leave super powers be for the moment.

The Apocalypse has managed to get me working on two very different short stories about the End of the World as we know it (And before you ask, no, you can’t read them, probably not even when they’re completely finished. Ok maybe, but only if you ask nicely). I’m still not sure whats got my brain chugging along on such fare, but I’m far from the only one. I’d say most of humanity has, or had at one time, a fascination on how this shit we call life is going to come to a screeching halt.

I mean think about it, how many movies, games and books are there out there about this same thing? Hell, as soon as man started creating nuclear bombs and other equally scary shit, the genre took the hell off. And all the different ways people have written about; Asteroids, Earthquakes, Global Warming, Plagues, Bombs, Bio-warfare, Aliens, Fucking solar flares (if you believe some of the 2012 crackpots), and we can’t forget cell phones or the fucking wind, courtesy of Good old Mr.’s King and Shamalamalaman or however the fuck you say it (Cell and The Happening, respectively. Catch the former, miss the latter if you hope to have any further use out of your brain).

So what is it about the end of the world thats got us so fucking fascinated? What is it that makes us want to stand on the edge of oblivion (or at least pretend to) and look out at the ending of everything our works have wrought?

No seriously, any of ya’ll have an idea? Cause I really don’t have a fucking clue.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a big ole abyss to stare into and see if any idea’s on the stories shake loose.

Good night, and thank you for visiting The Dakster’s brain.

P.S. In case you were wondering, 2012 is a crock of shit. Penn and Teller told me so.

The Interview and The Other Interview

Whelp, went in, waited 5 minutes, introduced myself to the manager, told her of my pizza experiance and got told to come back next monday. Hey, at least its not a “We’ll call you.” Right?

The Interview and The ‘Please don’t give me another fucking we’ll call you.”

So I’ve finally got another interview, over at round table pizza. They happen to be the only pizza place in fallon that is hiring drivers for any hours. I’ve actually got a good feeling about this, cause the manager who told me to come in for an interview with the GM said that my two years delivering should make a big difference. Who thought that would ever be the case, eh?

So off I’m going, just praying this doesn’t turn out like the others with a promise of a phone call that never fucking comes. Cross your fingers and wish me luck ya’ll, might just fucking need it.

The Small Town and The People

After living here for almost 2 weeks, I’ve come to decide that I really -can’t- decide how I feel about living in small towns compared to a largish city. They both have their perks, obviously. I do miss the convince of having everything I could want, right there at my fingertips, less than 30 minutes away. I don’t really miss having that 30 minute drive turn into a 2 hour hell due to traffic. There’s still a bit of traffic here, since its where several major highways intersect, but its not anywhere near as bad as H-town. Oh and I’m discovering the other problem of having only a few plays of business, where places like pizza hut and pappa johns were -always- hiring in H-town, got a big ole nadda here.

I’d say, so far, the biggest difference is the people. Sure there are nice people in Houston, and you meet a lot of them. But you meet a lot of the assholes too. I haven’t meet a single person here who wasn’t completely fucking kind to me, and who (if i was looking for it) wouldn’t do everything in their power to help me out. I don’t even get glared out for letting slip the occasionally Texas ‘ma’am’ like I did in new york.

So fuck it. I still can’t decide, right now H-town and Fallon are tied up in the overall statistics.