(no subject)
i know you're all just dying to be down with the latest happenings in my job situation, so i'll totally tell you right now!!
i wish i could explain to you all what i do when i go into a building, how i have to make things work in reality according to two dimensional drawings and descriptions made of words. i have to determine every single small detail of my work when given only lines and words, and afew pieces of metal. Perhaps i have no life, or maybe i sound like a complete fool in saying this, but there are days when i feel like i've created a piece of art. a peace of art with function and purpose, simple of device and ornament, free of flare or trend, simply and truthfully serving it's purpose. you all will probably think i'm a complete faggot for actually finding meaning in all of this, but it's been my livelyhood for the past five years and will continue to be indefinetely..
Anyhow, the story is thus: Noell Cerabella is a cunt and i don't want to work for him anymore. He doesn't know me, doesn't care to because he thinks he has me all figured out.... "you're throwing away your future." It's a folly that he's the head of BR/SM and Hahnel Bros. Sheet Metal depts. The fucker has never installed a duct in his life. Him and his Rick Flare look alike nature boy hair can lick my big hairy testicles, and if he actually speaks to me ever again i will snap on him like hulk hogan when he gets so pissed that he just takes all the punches and just shakes his head and says nooooooooo. essentially, i mean to say that first BR/SM told me my transfer had gone through without a hitch. Then there was no work for me or gabe, and now they have work for me only.
well gentlemen it's not going to happen. I'm living in portland and it's there i shall work....
Needless to say there are certain things i will miss about BR/SM...
The old guy, arthur, who doesn't give a fuck and always says 'boy, aint i drunk!'
the deaf guy, shane, who used to call me ian but now thinks my name is ivan
my recent helper, Matt, who after heard me singing 'sweet caroline' all day last friday, took to singing 'sweet ianbob' the rest of the day
The VP big dan... everyone to him is either a homo or a momo
field supervisor Steve 'what's a bag of weed is the shit aint green' williams, who for some reason always wants to put his arm around you in the morning.
Tanner the mexican womanizer, who laid the nickname 'ianbob' onto me
Andy Nedeau the married man (who just propisitioned kirsten for sex the other night)
and oh there are so much more... a guy whos wife is a baby stealer, the 'werewolf of etna', guys that don't shower, guys with rotten teeth (cupcake teeth as tanner would call them), a guy that kills a deer and fucks it once a year, coke dealers, methadone addicts, pill junkies, and the list goes on and on and on... afew of them, a very very select few i actually have grown fond of over the past few years...
but with a new location comes a new company and a new crew, and i'm sure in a couple months i will have stories about all of them as well.
but this post is growing as tired as i am
i wish i could explain to you all what i do when i go into a building, how i have to make things work in reality according to two dimensional drawings and descriptions made of words. i have to determine every single small detail of my work when given only lines and words, and afew pieces of metal. Perhaps i have no life, or maybe i sound like a complete fool in saying this, but there are days when i feel like i've created a piece of art. a peace of art with function and purpose, simple of device and ornament, free of flare or trend, simply and truthfully serving it's purpose. you all will probably think i'm a complete faggot for actually finding meaning in all of this, but it's been my livelyhood for the past five years and will continue to be indefinetely..
Anyhow, the story is thus: Noell Cerabella is a cunt and i don't want to work for him anymore. He doesn't know me, doesn't care to because he thinks he has me all figured out.... "you're throwing away your future." It's a folly that he's the head of BR/SM and Hahnel Bros. Sheet Metal depts. The fucker has never installed a duct in his life. Him and his Rick Flare look alike nature boy hair can lick my big hairy testicles, and if he actually speaks to me ever again i will snap on him like hulk hogan when he gets so pissed that he just takes all the punches and just shakes his head and says nooooooooo. essentially, i mean to say that first BR/SM told me my transfer had gone through without a hitch. Then there was no work for me or gabe, and now they have work for me only.
well gentlemen it's not going to happen. I'm living in portland and it's there i shall work....
Needless to say there are certain things i will miss about BR/SM...
The old guy, arthur, who doesn't give a fuck and always says 'boy, aint i drunk!'
the deaf guy, shane, who used to call me ian but now thinks my name is ivan
my recent helper, Matt, who after heard me singing 'sweet caroline' all day last friday, took to singing 'sweet ianbob' the rest of the day
The VP big dan... everyone to him is either a homo or a momo
field supervisor Steve 'what's a bag of weed is the shit aint green' williams, who for some reason always wants to put his arm around you in the morning.
Tanner the mexican womanizer, who laid the nickname 'ianbob' onto me
Andy Nedeau the married man (who just propisitioned kirsten for sex the other night)
and oh there are so much more... a guy whos wife is a baby stealer, the 'werewolf of etna', guys that don't shower, guys with rotten teeth (cupcake teeth as tanner would call them), a guy that kills a deer and fucks it once a year, coke dealers, methadone addicts, pill junkies, and the list goes on and on and on... afew of them, a very very select few i actually have grown fond of over the past few years...
but with a new location comes a new company and a new crew, and i'm sure in a couple months i will have stories about all of them as well.
but this post is growing as tired as i am