Day 2 at work was boring. We spent 8 hours going over eight pages of material. I can sum it all up in one sentence. Don't steal, cheat or look at female employees asses otherwise you will be fired. Also, it was revealed my trainer has no college education. She has trouble passing classes on Phoenix Online. I know that college shouldn't matter, actually fuck that. A four year degree from a fairly reputable institution should mean something. Couple the trainer with the significant number of recent high school graduates in my group and it appears that I may be overqualified.

If the job doesn't require any collegiate work, which obviously it doesn’t, then why am I here. Furthermore the company doesn't seem to care about post high school education. So, I am four years behind everyone else working at the company. Hell maybe they do know more than I, but based on reading most of the training manual, there doesn't seem to be a lot to it. You call someone, inform them their account is delinquent, listen to a bullshit excuse, and restate in polite persuasive fashion that they still need to pay on the account. A trained parrot could handle this job with ease. Before anyone states that collections is much more intensive then that, or success requires more then just a firm speaking voice, you are stupid and wrong. Everyone I have met in the department thus far, ranging from floor employees to management, is inarticulate and slow witted. Basically I am surrounded by a sea of morons, who all make significantly more money then I ever will. The real kicker is that my degree and more importantly innate intelligence/superiority mean virtually nothing. As I stated earlier I am at least several years behind everyone working here because they opted out of college and instead decided to get knocked up. (my trainer’s story)

I am not bitter, not at all. Fucking teachers, parents and professors claiming an education was important. I was so much happier not being employed and largely ignorant to my lot in the working world. Two days in equates to forty-eight hours of misery. Forget what I said about being apathetic, because not applying oneself is so much more fulfilling.

Shoot me, or at least recommend a better job. Seriously I will work for minimum wage if the occupation requires a degree. It may be worthless but fuck being four years behind everyone else because they were too stupid, stoned, or impregnated to pursue an education.

By the way the above post doesn't apply to my friends. Problem is you are probably not my friend. (Josh, Travis, Chris, associated girlfriends/boyfriends are excluded from today's discussion)

go to hell

Ok, maybe I exaggerated a wee bit about my relative position in life. Though, it really doesn't matter. Juxtaposing ones self worth against the accomplishment of others is fool hardy. I need to judge life against my own expectations. I am not a total failure. But, I am not a resounding success either. The more I think about it my greatest fear is failing. Whether it concerns work, friends, family, leisure or love I am so afraid of rejection that any opportunity for success or happiness is precluded. In other words I have chosen to do nothing at all with my life rather then chance any sort of failure. Obviously, as usual, my logic is skewed. Greatness affords itself to only those willing to face utter despair. Enough with this nonsensical doublespeak, I am starting to make myself think.

I am very fortunate to have people who do care about me. Whether or not it is deserved I can't say but I do greatly appreciate it.

Oh by the way I did start the new job. I am not going to comment about it, because I want to maintain a positive attitude. Though, today amongst the other trainees was the first time I ever actually felt old. Half the damn room just graduated high school. Now I know college is a stupid idea. Could have become a collections agent straight out of diapers it seems.

oh well it could be worse. At least I am not cursed with lycanthrope and subsequently forced to live a life in sin practicing the furry fetish.


go to hell

No post today. I am busy contemplating the empty void that is my life.


450 kids were in my high school graduating class. Currently I am the 449th most succesful. One guy died.


go to hell

Birthday's suck, or mine does. Turning 23 is of no real importance, hell the next big event associated with my birthday is when I get a car insurance break at age 25. But it is still customary to feel somewhat happy on the anniversary of ones birth. I didn't even get a damn cake. The parents did take me to Red Lobster, and I did get a pair of cheap leather shoes from Payless Shoe Store.

Today is very depressing.

Thank God I won't have to deal with this shit of a day for another year.


It's my birthday and I will cry if I want to.

I am officially on strike from my family. On Thursday the parents decided to blame me for my little brother’s problems. At first they only insinuated that I was the reason he acted like Satan's bastard child. However, five minutes into the conversation blatant accusations were being tossed my direction. Damian, i.e. the eater of worlds, is a problem child. There is no doubt about it. But, placing fault on my feet is akin to blaming Poland for World War Two.

I am just a stupid bastard who puts up with the dark one's behavior since I am too weak to do anything about it. Long ago father threatened physical harm if I disciplined Beelzebub. Due to my absolute fear of being pummeled I have not laid a finger on my brother, even when a caning was due. Somehow I am the problem now. Stupid bastards.


Yet, all is not lost in the land of Bob. In order to prevent further contamination of Shaitan, I have pledged to stay completely away from him. Also, to be certain my dastardly ways do not filter to him through my parents; I will no longer interact with the mommy and daddy as well.


By the way I turn 23 tomorrow, another year closer to massive heart failure.


Go to hell

Damn Blogger was offline for 24 hours. It is 6:45 am and I haven't went to bed yet. God I need to get a life.

Help me please

go to hell

Less then a week from now I begin work. Being one of the gainfully employed lemmings makes me feel very sad. My comfortable, albeit tedious existence will forever be marred by joining the workforce. I am still hoping that the company discovers one of the embellishments/bold-faced lies on my resume and promptly rescinds their job offer.

I really don't want to work. I was born to be a layer not a doer.

By the way my dad's website is coming along nicely, even if it looks little childish. I almost did a good job; perhaps shareware ain't so bad after all.

Too lazy to come up with a worthwhile post instead I will share an uplifting piece of poetry.

Suicide

Desolate inside
Empty solution
Answers denied
Darkness

I will give a cookie to whoever finds the hidden message.

go to hell

Saw a film with dad, and the little brother. I had a pretty good time. All those Hulk-Haters should finally shut up, since it set a new June opening weekend record. No reason to debate whether it remained faithful to canon, because it didn't. But neither did X-Men, Spiderman or any other superhero film. Yet, even though Ang Lee took creative license with the character, the story still worked and was quite entertaining. And, all the shits who took issue with the CGI should get a clue. Considering he is a 15 foot tall, half ton, behemoth the Hulk looked pretty damn good.


Anyway I am off to bed, well going to eat a BLT pizza first then bed.


go to hell

Creating a website with very little HTML knowledge can be very problematic. I am using a program that is making the process less painful, at least technically. Drag and paste is all that is required. However, I have very little control aesthetics over the page. Being at the mercy of third party shareware is not a good thing. I could go buy a how to book on HTML. Then again why put in all that effort. Painless mediocrity is always the best way to go.


I find it rather easy to portray a businessman. Being bland, rather cruel and incompetent comes naturally to me.
John Cleese (1939 - )