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.