The Gun Show
Hey peoples, what's good? I just had a new experience this weekend. I've gone 39 years without ever having held a loaded gun, let alone firing one. And now I'm one step away from being licensed to carry a concealed one. Let me tell you how this happened.
In the summer between my 10th and 11th grade years, my best friend Rodney, accidentally shot himself in the eye. Rodney was a smaller than average kid. Getting fucked with on G.P. just for being small. He was hella cool, and hella smart, but frankly he got sick of being pushed around. He had an Honda Elite scooter and some hard cats on the block decided he didn't deserve it. They let him know the next time he rode past on it, it was theirs. He copped a gun from another set of hard cats on the block. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing with it and he caught a bad one in the eye. I'm still not exactly sure it was an accident, but that's the story I got.
Since, and actually before, then, I had a real antipathy towards guns. Cowards tools, I thought, so I stayed clear of them.
A few years back I got the idea that it wouldn't be a bad idea to have one, because shit, you never know how certain things may play out. We got some bad men out there with some bad intentions, and it you're on the wrong side of their way of thinking, you might become a victim. I was reluctant because then I'd become what I've always hated, a conspiracy minded nutjob. I do happen to live in the town where Tim.o.thy Mc.Vei.gh and the Nic.hol.s Brothers conspired to take down the Fed.eral Building in OK City.
The more I thought about it, and talked to friends about it, the more natural the progression seemed to come. So I signed up for the 8 hour permit to Carry a Concealed Weapon class. I told the instructor that I was a novice and ended up getting a little private instruction away from the class. It was strange to pull that trigger for the first time. There was a lot of power and a slight feeling of dread. After a while, I got into the groove.
After taking the written test (25 out of 26!), the entire class engaged in intruder cappin' scenarios on the gun range. That shit was actually fun, especially the yelling before shooting to give the intruder a chance to run. "Get the fuck outta my house, scumbag!" Fantastic.
In short, it was a great way to release stress, even though I still doubt I'll actually carry a gun around. The sad part is after one class, they'd actually let me.
Peace! (hehehehe)
KZ
Labels: guns
Whoosah!
Ay, yo! How's everybody? I hope you had a good MLK Day. I did, because it included not taking my black ass to work. Of course, everyone else at my job had to work, but I opted out. I think Martin would've wanted it that way.
My attitude towards work isn't as bad as it has been, though. Because I have no pending interviews, no oars in the water, no prospects whatsoever, I don't have an anxious feeling at work anymore. I used to be irritated, like "when are they gonna call me so I can tell my boss 'fuck you'?". Now? Since I'm not waiting for anything, work is just fucking work. And as bad as it gets, it's just something you gotta do. I still think it's just for the time being, but really, who knows?
I take solace in the fact that it's not the actual work. Like most instances, the issue is less the work and more who you have to answer to. I have to answer to not only my boss (fuck that guy), but the community at large (fuck those people). The combination is horrible. If one or the other was worth a fuck, the job wouldn't be so bad. My boss's insistence on sending out 5 staff people to rescue a cat from a tree (not literally, but you get the idea) is frustrating. And the public's insistence on asking for staff in the buildings department to rescue their cat from a tree is frustrating. I can't tell them "no" because it would piss off my boss, and without proper back up from your supervisor you're done. If he made the call that we're not getting involved in shit that our department's not responsible for anymore, the job would work as it should. But he won't cuz he's a chickenshit and when I ask him to do it he wants to talk about his philosophy on governing. Fuck that guy. I hope he chokes on his own vomit in his sleep.
KZ
Labels: work sucks dick
Stay Classy, Zedediah!
I love complaining. I love complaining more than I love my mother's cooking, and that's saying something. I complain about everything in the midst of doing anything! "Damn, this pussy is kinda tight. And it's awfully wet. But it really could be tighter and wetter." I know, I suck. But 2009 was really something to complain about.
In general it was a fucked up year for me. Housing woes, job search woes, money problems, health scares, staff issues, boss issues, dumb ass constituents, and lousy luck overall. I've had trite, cliched moments happen to me, that I should have seen coming, but didn't. I've had one in a thousand type things happen hat would ONLY happen to me. For better or for worse here I am.
I'm not any more humbled, cuz really, fuck humility. And I'm not more determined to turn over a new leaf, cuz really, fuck leaves. I'm not going to do anything but the shit that has made me quasi-successful to this point and understand that there are, in fact, things that I can't change.
With that being said, I'd like to wish both of you readers a Happy New Year and hope that you party like a muthafucka to bury this lousy fucking year.
Peace,
KZ
P.S. I didn't get that fucking Raleigh job, either.
Labels: New Year's
Sucker Time
Hey everybody! What's good? There's nothing going on with me. I got a rejection letter from Baltimore, I'm waiting on what Raleigh has to say, so in the meantime I am where I am. Satan's Anus is horrible still, but at least I don't have to LIVE and work here. One out of two ain't bad.
The interview I had in Raleigh right before Thanksgiving was interesting. Interesting in the fact that the guy I interviewed with reminds me of my current boss (bad) , and one of the people who would possibly be under me tried to compliment me by calling me "articulate". He better hope I don't get the gig. I'm watching his ass already.
Otherwise I'm just trying to cope with Sucker Time and not get suckered too badly by fake deals, mall related scams, thievery, debauchery, and/or general chicanery. We really do spend too much fucking money on worthless shit during this time of year. I genuinely can't remember what I got for Christmas last year, though I'm sure I was pleased with it at the time. That means I likely didn't need it. I'm not 6, it's ok to pass on my gift, I'll survive. I have yet to talk to another person in my family that feels that same. So I'm out here at Sucker Time trying to do my best, just like everyone else.
Peace,
KZ
Labels: interview, X-mas
Slaying of murder witness in Detroit leaves trail of fear | detnews.com | The Detroit News
Slaying of murder witness in Detroit leaves trail of fear | detnews.com | The Detroit NewsA word of advice: If you're not going to raise your kids, please drown them in a fucking bathtub before they kill mine.
KZ
Village Idiot
So, I'm moving right? Second weekend in a row. First my stuff from Satan's Anus, then her stuff from the D. This weekend was the stuff from the D. All's well. Our team, after initially flaking out, comes together and the move is swift. Even though we lost the keys for about 40 minutes in the D, the move was still a rousing success. Now to get the stuff from point A to point B. I got the personnel and I got the will. No biggie, right?
Remember having sex as a virgin?
When I tried to get this truck through that hole, it got stuck. The only road to get in and out of the village was clogged by the town's new black guy and his fucking moving truck. For an hour and a half.
The pint sized cop came up to me and said "I guess that was a dumb mistake, hunh?" "Excuse me?" "I guess that was a dumb mistake, hunh?" I turned my back to him, because saying "Fuck you Fidget!" would be impolitic. I guess it would be a dumb mistake if a) The height of the truck was written somewhere, anywhere in or on the truck so I could make a comparison, or b) I'd gotten stuck last week when I drove through this same fucking tunnel in a gotdamn moving truck!
So after paying the tow truck driver to wench me out, and getting the citation from the Fidget (fucking midget) for "ignoring a traffic control device", and filling up the gotdamn gigantic gas tank with diesel and the cost of renting the fucking truck, it would have been cheaper to hire movers and have me and TAD sipping Pina Coladas in our new digs waiting for our furniture to come.
I was a gotdamn newsstory, a one day oddity in the village. And a story to tell my kids.
Peace,
KZ
Labels: moving
Doubt
Doubt is a powerful thing. I doubt myself all the time, usually in matters that aren't important, but they still take up a lot of my time. For instance, when I'm in a meeting, I quite often start to daydream. My mind drifts and I think of everything except the reason we've been assembled. When I'm shaken from my daze, usually by someone asking what I think about the subject matter, I give some vague answer. The thing is, because I'm disengaged I think that I'll have a wrong or misinformed answer. I doubt myself, but most of the time I enter the meeting with a pre-determined set of actions and alternatives because the meeting is not necessary. Rarely do I respond with the pre-determined actions, I always give the vague, bullshit answer. Why? Because I think that the people who have spent a lot of time discussing and hashing out things have a better handle on them than I do. 99.9% of the time, I'm wrong about that. I could have come into the meeting with the solution. I let doubt take over because really that's my comfort zone.
I'm asked to speak at a dizzying number of places in Satan's Anus and I reluctantly accept. I used to hem and haw my way through the speech, hoping to reach the end and mercifully sit down or leave. The one thing I never counted on until recently is the doubt in the majority of the audience. Give me a mike and some notes, and all of a sudden I become the expert. You might have a different opinion or a different set of facts, but I got the mike bitch! Subverting my self-doubt and replacing it with arrogance and an embrace of the inherent power of standing before a crowd and imposing your own knowledge has been a revelation.
I leave my doubt for my personal life. I've abandoned it as a profession. It took me long enough, but I'm there.
Peace,
KZ
Labels: work
