Catapultam habeo. Nisi pecuniam omnem mihi dabis, ad caput tuum saxum immane mittam.
Lord, I was tired last night. Between actual patrols I ended up just walking endlessly around the second level (makes a loop) just to stay awake.
I couldn't read, didn't feel like talking, wouldn't sleep.
And, of course, the heat was up too high. Twenty-one centigrade. Pfft.
The Romanian reminded me of why we love him by asking about FNG's condition (I guess all he knew was that he'd been in an accident, but not the details), which I informed him included broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken back, and brain damage. I also told him that he'd probably never be back to the site.
The Romanian rocked back on his heels for a few seconds and said "Fuck man, I'd line all the Jews up and burn them in the furnaces - render them down into soap... but it's different with this guy because I know him."
I guess that was kind of a compliment. If you really squint.
When he goes off like that, I remind him that I'm the German, and if he doesn't stop telling me how to adminster the Reich then Romania with all of its thieving bitching Bulgarian-wannabes is going to be next. That's usually good for a laugh out of him.
The night passed without incident, except the site's being probed again. Ah well, at least it gives me something to do.
In the morning, after I changed out of my costume on the third floor I caught the elevator down with some woman and Evil Property Manager.
Once again, he exhibited extreme discomfort in my presence, and began polishing the nameplate for the company on the wall during the trip down, much to the bewildered amusement of the woman sharing the car. What a twit.
Someday I'm going to catch him alone and I'll make an extremely loud barking yelp and see how he reacts. I mean, why not?
I'm getting pretty tired of this site, I have to admit. The monotonous sameness of it is pretty wearing. I wouldn't mind shifting to someplace with a little more to do, like Canada Place where I worked on Easter. Or even someplace like Gastown. I don't know, I'm keeping my ears open.
A typical flash of US-on-Iraq "liberation". I read something the other day that shifted a word in my head into a place where it won't leave. Does anybody else think that using the word insurgent would be too out of place to describe the US blowing the hell out of Iraq?
Found by Fictional Correspondant, here's a quick flashing showing you how to spot fascism.
Sorry, I'm just in a kind of "How come nobody's complaining about things anymore?" mood today. Specifically, I was thinking about all of the aftereffects in the US that came from the Vietnam debacle.
The trouble with some kinds of warfare is that they destroy all moral decency in susceptible types. Warfare of these kinds will dump the destroyed survivors back into an innocent population that is incapable of even imagining what such returned soldiers might do.
And with that sort of in mind, one more flash. :P
I couldn't read, didn't feel like talking, wouldn't sleep.
And, of course, the heat was up too high. Twenty-one centigrade. Pfft.
The Romanian reminded me of why we love him by asking about FNG's condition (I guess all he knew was that he'd been in an accident, but not the details), which I informed him included broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken back, and brain damage. I also told him that he'd probably never be back to the site.
The Romanian rocked back on his heels for a few seconds and said "Fuck man, I'd line all the Jews up and burn them in the furnaces - render them down into soap... but it's different with this guy because I know him."
I guess that was kind of a compliment. If you really squint.
When he goes off like that, I remind him that I'm the German, and if he doesn't stop telling me how to adminster the Reich then Romania with all of its thieving bitching Bulgarian-wannabes is going to be next. That's usually good for a laugh out of him.
The night passed without incident, except the site's being probed again. Ah well, at least it gives me something to do.
In the morning, after I changed out of my costume on the third floor I caught the elevator down with some woman and Evil Property Manager.
Once again, he exhibited extreme discomfort in my presence, and began polishing the nameplate for the company on the wall during the trip down, much to the bewildered amusement of the woman sharing the car. What a twit.
Someday I'm going to catch him alone and I'll make an extremely loud barking yelp and see how he reacts. I mean, why not?
I'm getting pretty tired of this site, I have to admit. The monotonous sameness of it is pretty wearing. I wouldn't mind shifting to someplace with a little more to do, like Canada Place where I worked on Easter. Or even someplace like Gastown. I don't know, I'm keeping my ears open.
A typical flash of US-on-Iraq "liberation". I read something the other day that shifted a word in my head into a place where it won't leave. Does anybody else think that using the word insurgent would be too out of place to describe the US blowing the hell out of Iraq?
Found by Fictional Correspondant, here's a quick flashing showing you how to spot fascism.
Sorry, I'm just in a kind of "How come nobody's complaining about things anymore?" mood today. Specifically, I was thinking about all of the aftereffects in the US that came from the Vietnam debacle.
The trouble with some kinds of warfare is that they destroy all moral decency in susceptible types. Warfare of these kinds will dump the destroyed survivors back into an innocent population that is incapable of even imagining what such returned soldiers might do.
And with that sort of in mind, one more flash. :P
posted by Rimmy at 11:38
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home