You want to hear a rant? A real rant? Well here it is. I currently work at a job which of course is to support the government. I myself have never been employed by the government nor was a member of the military so I have no expectations of how the military run a base. In my finite, infinitesimal brain I would conclude it would be a rather well run entity and I could actually work within its constraints. Of course I also believe that Smurfs were all being drained dry financially by Smurfette who was practicing prostitution on a large scale, being she is the only female in their population. There is only one other anomaly and that is Papa Smurf who is the illegitimate father of all Smurfs even though no Smurf has genitals. Gargamel created Smurfette to destroy the Smurfs but it just started a facet of their economy. I can picture Smurfs having sex and grimacing with a Smurf sex face screaming â€œOH MY SMURF, OH MY SMURF!â€ The Smurf conundrum is as logical as the government and the military.
I truly hate my job, you see, and it is predicated upon the fact that I was promised a number of things and quit my old job thinking I was stepping into a better situation when I really stepped into the equivalent of a 2 ton cow pie. I am now wallowing in shit and I am staying afloat by treading crap, but am fading fast. You must understand that EVERYONE here is in a pissing contest and everything on this base leads to a single point of failure. One person goes down and so does a service. Hell, even when an outage occurs, which is as often as dogs lick themselves, no one really seems to care. I have seen the network go down and all the server team go home since it is 3:30. â€œFUCK EM ALL!!!â€ is their battle cry. I suffer from shear futility every day. I have never worked at any place that has so many outages all the time. We were told last week we had to all wear the same pair of underwear at the same time. We tried to explain that this was impossible but we were given a speech on Civil War soldiers who went without toilet paper and we could go sharing one pair of underwear.
This week alone we have quadrupled our work to answer one telephone call. We have to log each call into TWO different databases, cross referencing each and send out an e-mail to the persons it has already been assigned to in 2 database programs to let them know they have a ticket–which has already been assigned to them twice. I am sure I am forgetting another piece of the puzzle here since everyone seems immensely retarded and can access and comprehend nothing. So, needless to say, I am not the only person protesting this idiocy.
We also have reached a point where, to deploy a pc, it takes twice as long to fill out paperwork than it does to copy over a personâ€™s profile, desktop, signature, software and set up their printers and Outlook. We need to deploy thousands of PCs. You see the debacle here. I am so mired in paperwork, I hear the cries of millions of trees whose voices have suddenly been silenced, well that is from Star Wars but it does apply to this situation, as well as the hundreds of paper cuts I have suffered. I look like Reagan from the Exorcist after being possessed by Legion. As a matter of fact, I believe this base is run by Legion. Only something of insidious evil could conceive of the silliness that ensues here and punish all who enter its guarded gates every day.
For awhile I was being stopped at the front gate and then being pulled over to have myself and my car checked. I guess wearing my â€œNuke em all and let God sort em outâ€ tee shirt did not help. I actually placed smiley face stickers on the underside of my car just to irritate the guards checking the underside of my car with mirrors and looking under women’s dresses they pull over. The worst of it was the cavity search. I was led to a garage with a car lift, laid on it naked with cheeks spread apart and raised up. High intensity lights shining up my anus. At that point I confessed to killing Abraham Lincoln, John Lennon and Lynard Skynard. I admitted to being the man behind the grassy knoll, well actually a baby behind the grassy knoll. Someone was lifting me up and holding me so I could get a good shot. The only positive portion of this ordeal was that I got a free lube job which will last for another 20,000 miles or until I am dead. I never have to worry about constipation ever again.
I absolutely LOATHE where I work. I am surrounded by death and decay on a daily basis which is much like many of my past relationships. Everything on this base was built pre WWII and every week or so we find Japanese still hidden in warehouses who do not know the war is over. It is horrible to believe they have denied themselves fast food and television all these years. I wish there were a way to make me feel somewhat at ease here, but I work in a trailer inside a 70+ year-old warehouse on a base that the water is not potable and my boss gets upset and outright angry if you refer to a tomato as a tomatoe. FUCK! Will someone save me? I will be forever in your debt. You need a butler? A gardener? A male prostitute? Man whoring is looking pretty good right now. Any ideas?