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Friday, Aug. 02, 2002 / 6:50 p.m. ~The Hypocrisy of the USA, Breakfast, at Work, and Gettin' Some at 45!~ I guess I needed to remind myself why I no longer watch television news. I had to sit and listen to Bob Schiefer tell me about Iraq's 'weapons of mass destruction' to remember that I am so disgusted by the spin the US government puts on all the 'news' it leaks to the press. Or not leaks, the news to which the government allows the press access. Or basically the bullshit that is fed to the American television viewing public, like some sort of pablum. 'Weapons of mass destruction'. Brilliant phrase. I know I've said it before. I'll still say it again, and probably again. Brilliant. Especially in the way it neglects our own nuclear, etc. arsenal. Do you really think WE don't have our own 'weapons of mass destruction'? Puhleeze. Puhfuckingleeze. We have so much of it we can't figure out where to put it all. Send it into space. Store it underground. Test it every so often, send radiation into the aquifers out West. Who cares about those people out West anyway? It's just a bunch of Natives (should've killed 'em ALL back when we had the chance!) and Mexicans (damned immgrants, coming up and stealing our jobs!). Let 'em get cancer, it's those 'weapons of mass destruction' that Saddam has that we care about. Fucker better let us in and look at 'em all, count 'em if we want to! It's our fucking right! We're the UnitedFuckingStatesofAmerikkka after all! Oh, sorry, it's a rant. Based on fact? Damn skippy. I see through the bullshit. Now they're saying that Atta met with somebody in Iraq, or was it Prague?, doesn't matter, because if they can hint (quite overtly at that) to at least a handful of Americans that the dreaded Al Qaeda network has some folks based in Iraq, then by all means, they'll say, bomb the fuck out of them damned Iraqis! They all wear towels on their heads too, right? What do we care? Jesus. But there was good news too! I'm terrible at details, so forgive me, but some Judge ruled that the government is REQUIRED to release the names of the detainees being 'questioned', um, held, um, 'detained' since the 9/11 roundup. Hurrah! Finally. Someone in the government is actually WATCHING the government, wants to be sure they're held accountable for all the crap they're doing right now. Acting on every sneaking suspicion like it's okay to violate the rights of everybody in this fucking country as long as it ultimately makes up for the loss we experienced last September. Well, guess the fuck what? We can't make up for it. It's over. What we can do is improve our foreign policy, improve our relations with other countries, not go around attacking everyone in the Oil Rich Middle East to suit our needs, under the guise of justice. Oy, it makes me so mad. Mad enough to say 'fuck' over and over again. Had to get up and leave the room. I wanted to just turn over to the BBC America news, but I don't think it's on yet, and besides, I listened to NPR's "All Things Considered" at work, so I got some in depth news right there. Must've been George Sr. 'Weapons of mass destruction'. Brilliant. OUR nukes and chemical weapons don't destruct masses, just a few at a time. Is that what we're saying? Damn, what else? Lulu accessed the site's payroll records at work yesterday. She and I did it once before, just going into Windows Explorer, looking on the Network's shared server.... going into the HR Manager's files (and why the hell they're not on her PC's 'C' drive is a mystery to me), and seeing the bonuses, etc. Back then, a few months ago, we very honestly let the IT manager know immediately and she added back in the password protection. But the IT manager is a fucking space cadet of the highest order and they fucked it all up again, allowed anyone with a brain and some time on her hands to access the payroll again. Oh no, I'm ascribing brains to Lulu! Regardless, Lulu told me, sort of, "_____, guess what? We have access to the Payroll again. That's not right.", etc. Well, why the hell were you looking? So we all looked. The 6:00 crew. End of day. La dee da. The Manager (M)'s sister Kukla, who works in our department, makes around $3/hr more than everyone else. Lulu makes the least. She started after the rest of us. That's fair. I'm in the upper middle. But to see what Kukla makes, wow, we were floored. I kept saying, "You see? This is why you're not supposed to discuss salary. You're not supposed to do this kind of thng. WE're not supposed to do this kind of thing. Wait a minute, HOW MUCH does she make?!". Lulu said she dreamed about it last night. Mainly that she'd get in some kind of trouble. So, unrelated, we had a breakfast this morning. At work. In our department. The Manager (M) cooking us scrambled eggs on a huge griddle plugged in at the large cubicle we use for such buffets. And there were yogurts, peaches and bananas, french toast sticks and maple pecan syrup, blueberry muffins, huge danishes, homemade grits, burned hash browns (thanks, Veronica), overcooked link sausages (and to you, Laverne - how do you mess up pre-cooked sausage links?), orange juice I brought, raisin bread, 3 different kinds of fruit spreads (that I brought), and an egg sausage corn casserole (that I made last night - Lulu tried it and said, "It wasn't bad, I added some salt"). Whatever. That's my patented 'cholesterol casserole' she badmouthed. Fuck her. I took the rest home at lunch. I enjoyed letting the Manager (M) stand over that griddle cooking my eggs. It was sweet. Like being in her kitchen, which I was once, at some cookware party she held. Outside work...she is awfully nice, sort of maternal and fun, very loving and kind. Good food. Aside from the burned stuff. We ate and were wasted by 10:00 this morning. Veronica had a burst of energy and cleaned all our surfaces. Got all the glue off the long counter, and it looks damned good now. But that was work. Now is home. Now is Friday. Now is wrap me up in my cocoon and think about all I'd like to accomplish, but probaby won't. Now is air conditioning when it's in the 90s outside. Now is leftover casserole, and thanks to everyone for not liking it, more for me! Leftover fruit and danishes, muffins. Food. Mmmmm..... Now is digital cable TV, a computer with a decent modem and 128 MB RAM. And fluffy cats that follow me from room to room. Could it be better? Yes. I'm in my 'I really would like a man, at least temporarily' mode. It will go away. I must be close to ovulating. Speaking of men, and sex and stuff, I was thinking about my mom today, I can't remember what sparked it, but I was remembering the period when she was having sex, like regularly, while I was maybe 10 years old and didn't know what sex was. It was unsettling, to me anyway, hearing her in her bedroom during the day before she went to her night job. And it was unsettling when her lover almost knocked our front door down that time he wanted her so bad, but she was through with him. But the next lover, the Indian with the turban, the one who had that long braid under that turban, and I know this because I peeked into her room one day to see her asleep in bed with him, naked, the two of them, and his turban was off and there was the braid, right, I liked him. What I was thinking, my point, was, she was older then than I am now. Yeah. She had me when she was 35. So when we were living away from my Pop, after their separation, and she was getting it regularly, I was 10 or 9, don't know, my brother must've been around 13 or 14, and my sister 15 or 16, but my mom was...... 45! Isn't that cool? She was beautiful, and she always looked so young. She had lovers. At 45. I was thinking about it and I got a little bit encouraged. That's all. I know I'm never having sex again, and I'll never fall in love again, well, with anyone who might actually love me too (forget Moby!), but hey, in case I'm totally wrong, well, it's been done, in my own gene pool! Whoo hoo. There's probably more to write. I didn't write all day today, not until now, so it's stored up, but I'm tired of typing, so this is it for now. If I think of anything else crucial, important, entertaining, controversial, or angsty, I'll be sure to add it later. Cost of the War in Iraq
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