PimpDifferent

Kobe Bryant's case got dismissed today. Like we didn't see that coming. I wonder how much it cost him. It's like going back to the old adage that the only color the Justice System™ recognizes isn't black or white. It's Green. Well, unless a black criminal causes damage to a white victim. But we won't get into that.

In World News:

Russians rebels have taken a school and a bunch of kids hostage. Let's make sure we don't let Russia's special forces try to liberate these hostages; we all remember what happened last time they tried to do that. They killed more people than the terrorist would have.

Hurricanes are fucking up Florida. I guess it's karma for counting wrong 4 years. ago. You can't count incrementally? Here, have 1, 2, 3, 4 hurricanes, you old fucks.

The Republicans are having their party this week too. I don't think I've heard the term "September 11th" so many fucking times. than I did today in highlights of speeches. If I had a blowjob for everytime the world 'terrorist' was mentioned, I'd be sore right now. But the theme was "9/11!" Let's milk it for all it's worth right? These Nascar dads in swing states suck this shit down with feedings tubes.

Work was garbage today. Got into a verbal altercation with my boss. Then he comes over to appease things by kissing my ass. Fuck that, we had a fight, whatever. Let it go. I did. Apparently you can't.

I'm glad we have a 3 day weekend coming up...it's about damn time. We should have them every 28 days.

Atleast I got paid today. Could've been worse.

I love when our LAN/WAN guy talks to our sales/marketing person. The conversations goes something like this.

"Yeah, our Point to Point provider's WAN systems went down, so I rerouted our CISCOs to utlize BGP and our Point to Point connects now with our colocation's servers in downtown. The migration of the data was encrypted and everything is ok."

"Umm...right."

When I got my first job that required selling anything, I had to read through a rigorous training manual and attend on the site training. No, i wasn't selling nuclear secrets to Iran. We all know that it doesn't require much training.

No, instead, i was selling clothing to yuppies.

I knew what buckrum was. I knew what triple stitching versus double stitching was, and where it appeared on clothing. I knew that our stretch dress shirts contained 98% cotton and 2% lycra. I knew how jean washes were achieved. I even knew that the Gap's "reverse" fit was designed for chunky girls in mind. I knew what wovens were, i knew what knits were. I knew that the Gap waxed the back of every belt so the staining would not mess up your pants. (If you've ever bought a 2 dollar belt, you know that the 'blackness' will leak into your khakis, providing a nice black belt around the waistline.

Anyhow, my point is, I knew what I was selling. When a girl asked how much her jeans would shrink, I already knew.

Since I've been employed in the 'technology' field, I've noticed one trend.

Sales departments don't know SHIT about what they are selling.

I had to get trained to sell white tshirts. How come these people can't get trained in the technology they are selling?

Exhibit A:

When I worked at Earthlink, before they outsourced all their jobs to India, we used to get calls about users not connecting "fast enough." They would connect, and of course, never get 56666 bps throughput. After explaining that dialup was a "best effort" connection, they would proceed to tell me how their saleperson had promised them the Sun and the Moon, but obviously, their 49999 bps connection wasn't enough. Apparently, the Salesperson forgot to mention certain things that might inhibit their connection.

Exhibit B:

When I was employed at InternetConnect, our salespeople barely knew how to get to work on time. Once again, the Salesperson would know NOTHING about DSL technology, and would leave the customer excited that they were getting free blowjobs with every connection. Of course, when they hit the stark reality that DSL sucks for a lot of people due to line conditions, tech support is who got yelled at. Salesperson sells the line, moves on. Tech support has to retain and support the line until the customer decides to cease doing business with us.

I could go on about TelePathetic, but it'd be the same argument.

So, here at Mail2Spam, our salesperson asks me ridiculous questions every single day. The best was "What's the difference between POP and IMAP?"

That's like a car salesman asking a mechanic, "Hey, what's the difference between power windows and non power windows?"

It's pretty much ridiculous but what can be done? This place reminds me of the cartoon image of a dam leaking through 1000 different places. I run up, plug one leak with a finger, then plug another with my other finger. Then 4 more leaks spring up. Of course, when u ask for help, our other employees are doing their own plugging up of leaks.

All while the CEO of the company is on some yaucht off the coast of France.

I wish I was a rich Saudi.

:-\

How is this shit MY fault.

8/1/2002 - Contract is signed with Critical Path which brings on several domains, including Faithmail.com. This contract is very non specific and sets us as "Level 2 Support" for all domains.

4/1/2003 - Contract is expanded. Our previous Sales Manager gives 'verbal' agreements on what domains are getting 1st level suport, and what domains are not. Sales Manager does not notify the previous support representative.

12/9/2003 - I get hired.

7/24/2004 - Our Sales Manager gets fired.

7/26/2004 - New Sales Manager gets hired.

8/25/2004 - We get an angry email from Faithmail saying that we are not supporting their users. We have a backlog of over 2000 emails dating back to November 2003 that have not been looked at.

8/25/2004 - Sales Manager asks me how long it will take to 'look at these emails.'

"I can look at them in 2 days...matter of answering them is a different story."

9/1/2004 - Get yelled at for not having responded to 2200+ emails.

Reasons to date me:
- I am a man.

This means the following:
- I have a penis (dimensions upon request)
- I have two testicles (dimensions upon request)
- I complain
- I have a poor morning disposition (references upon request)
- I emit occasionally offensive odors
- I will embarrass you more than you embarrass me (extrapolated from historical data)
- I eat meat (see note above re: offensive odors)
- I drink
- I drink more than you (assuming you weigh less than 175 pounds)
- I drink to get drunk (see note above re: poor morning disposition)
- I drink to make you fun
- I curse (if you don't like it, fuck you)
- I am fun (ask anybody, except your friend ***** - she's a bitch anyway)
- I employ logic to solve a problem
- Predicting my disposition is as simple as knowing the winning percentage of the LA Dodgers
- I hate your ex-boyfriends
- I like fire, with or without the joints
- I do stupid shit like testing the absorbancy of spinach gnocchi at a dinner party whenever the conversation bores me
- I recognize that when someone utters the phrase "This is so fun/great/exciting/etc" they are internally miserable
- I lie, but only to avoid offending you ("Those jeans look great on you")
- I watch porn (frequency is inversely proportional to our sexual frequency)
- I am presumptuous (see note above re: our sexual frequency)
- I watch sports
- I listen to music that makes me feel good
- I say your friend is getting fat when I know damn well she weighs less than you do
- I hate PDA
- I think you have at least 2 hot friends
- I am messy
- I think your friends suck
- I am confident, mainly as a result of general indifference
- I smell like one of the following: cologne, soap, deoderant, your cigarette
- I am smart enough to know when to end a pointless argument
- I love me, with or without you

What I'm looking for:
- A woman

This means the following:
- You have a vagina (details on plumage to be sent with picture)
- You have two breasts (dimensions to be sent with picture)
- You bitch
- You have a poor disposition (every 28th day or whenever you feel like blaming your own problems on me)
- You emit occasionally offensive noises (like that laugh you fake over the phone when responding to a joke you know isn't funny)
- You are easily embarrassed (thanks to a genuine concern for what strangers think of you)
- You eat chicken and sushi
- You drink apple martinis
- You drink fewer apple martinis than I do (assuming you weigh less than 175 pounds)
- You drink to forget abusive ex-boyfriends
- You drink to make me bearable to be around
- You curse (and I like it)
- You're fun, whenever you're not around your girlfriends (that ****** turns you into such a bitch)
- Your arguments lack cohesive thought processes and logic (your solutions are most often supported by all the empirical evidence contained in the sentence "just because.")
- Predicting your disposition requires an intimate knowledge of string theory
- You somehow cannot deduce that all of your ex-boyfriends are still trying to fuck you
- You like to smoke socially, but only so as not to feel excluded
- You do stupid shit like use my toothbrush to fish your mascara out of the toilet, or open a toxic can of paint with a knife taken from the same drawer that the screwdriver is in
- You lack the ability to recognize that when you say "This is so fun/great/exciting/etc" that you are forcing it
- You like it when I lie
- You hate porn, but only because you know it can replace you, if only temporarily
- You are presumptuous ("Where are we going for dinner?")
- You watch reality TV
- You listen to music that makes you cry
- You say you're getting fat while wolfing down your 3rd slice of pizza
- You like PDA because you're starved for attention
- You hate knowing I think your friends are hot, and tell me embarrassing stories about them behind their backs in an effort to make them seem less desirable, when in actuality, you're making them seem more attainable
- You are somehow messier than I am, but it's always my fault
- You think your friends suck more than I think they do, but you'll never admit it
- You have self-esteem issues, mainly as a result of nothing I can control
- You always smell like your shampoo
- You hate it when I am smart enough to realize when pursuing an argument is futile (see note above re: logic)
- You love being with someone
- Deep down inside, you know all of this is true

As I entered the piss covered floor that is the Men's restroom on the 9th floor, (You'd expect that 40 year old real estate agents who make over 70k a year would learn how to piss INSIDE the bowl) I came up with the perfect analogy of this job.

It started out as a 3 hour tour.

The cruise started out nice, until we got hit by a barge. With our boat sinking, we held on to driftwood and survived. The captain, who had just come on board, pushed survivors to get the driftwood. Instead of sinking with the ship, he went out like a sucka...

3 years later, we're still floating around in the middle of the pacific with nothing to show for it. A few team members have been eaten by sharks (also known as quitting in order to join companies where they have direct deposit on pay checks that do not bounce for non-sufficient funds). We have a captain that isn't going down WITH the ship, and more concerned with his survival. The direction we're headed is not dependant on us. We just follow the trade winds (also known as the Market Trends) and our captain is asking us to keep on paddling; not knowing that regardless of the effort we give, it doesn't matter because the trade winds are stronger than our paddling asses. Better yet, to keep us paddling, the captain keeps reffering to the Rescue Boat (adding more employees) that is on it's way. After 3 years, there is no Rescue Boat and i'm begnning to think we're being used as shark bait.

So here we are, floating in the middle of no where. One survivor sits on his piece of plywood and dredges the Internet for all sorts of free shit on Craiglist and does 20 minute checks on CNN.com to make sure the world is intact and Bush hasn't invaded another country. One survivor spends the day smoking, thinking of ways to quit. Another reads a book. The other talks to his fiancee incessently in baby talk. Another one keeps on calling sick because he has a baby. But, the survivors somehow have enough food and water, just like the survivors of GIlligan's Island. But unlike the island, I don't have the luxury to be drinking coconut juice (we rely on our own piss) and I don't have 2 hot girls living in the hut next to me. Instead, we have a captain that has no idea of the significance of the North Star, we have deckhands that could give a shit about anything but their own survival, and the owners of the boat are in on land, not even realizing their boat has gone down and the survivors are somewhere in the ocean waiting to be rescued. If I only had a fishing rod (personal assistant).

I diverge....

Our water cooler broke on Monday. The technician came in yesterday to fix it. These are his words:

"So yeah, the UV thing on that thing is messed up. I turned it off completely and you should turn it back on on Friday...it should be working by then. If not, turn it off and give it the weekend to fix itself. It should work on Monday. Can anybody sign this work order?"

I responded with, "Sounds like Windows. U sure Microsoft doesn't make our water cooler?"

Anyhow, it's Wednesday and my body is ready to fall out. I suffered from allergies all day yesterday and after giving my body a plethora of allergy medication, I think i'm ok.

I need to go fishing again. This El Nino phenomena has broke open the fishing in Southern California. This type of fishing happens once a decade...I'm taking advantage so when 2 years down the line there are SHITTY conditions down in San Diego, i can hold the memories of Fall, 2004.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled program....

So, earlier in the week, an Oakland fan received a chair in the face while enjoying her outing at the Oakland Coliseum. A Texas reliever threw a folding chair, WWF styli, towards fans. Her significant other DUCKED (manly move there) and it hit her smack in the face and broke her nose.

A few things:

1. I don't know where you were raised, but where I was raised, if someone in front of you DUCKS, guess what my natural reaction is? Yeah, I DUCK too and i ask ?uestions later. It's that ghetto gene that has been tweaked thanks to living in Los Angeles. This also goes for running too. If somebody breaks out into a sprint, especially during a disturbance, I'm running too and asking ?uestions later.

2. Ducking? That's not a very manly move there homeboy. That's like, throwing your jacket down over a puddle, then pulling it out while your girlfriend is stepping on it.

I wanna know what that guy said to provoke that many grown men to come after you. Baseball players are used to getting beer thrown at them, and having their mother mentioned in heckles all throughout time, but a line was definately crossed.

Then again, let's look at reputation.

OAKLAND, Calif. (AP) -- Texas right fielder Carl Everett was hit in the back of the head with a cell phone thrown by a fan in the Rangers' 12-2 loss to the Oakland Athletics on Saturday.

OAKLAND, Calif. (AP) -- A brawl broke out between the Portland Trailblazers and the Golden State Warriors which then spilled over into the stands, with teams pushing each other as coaches and officials tried to restore order.

One Portland player, who could not immediately be identified, started up the stairs into the stands, and a couple others, including Wallace, were trying to grab the fan.

You get the point. This is the same town were Minnesota center fielder Tori Hunter claims that by the end of the night, he's accumulated more than a dollar's worth of change in centerfield. I'm sure the change fairy didn't drop those pennies from heaven. I think they came from the 4 dollar nose bleed seats adjacent to center field.

So, in conclusion:

1. Ducking from a chair being thrown at you knowing your girlfriend/wife/pet rock is sititng next to you is pretty shameful.

2. Oakland fans need to stop being so ignorant. One thing is rooting for your team. The other is trying to choke an opposing pitcher, and trying to kill the centerfielder by throwing coinage at him.

Shit, throw money my way, I need it more than he does.

and I still have my wits upon me.

It's been a laid back week. The preparation for the Dodger tumbling out of playoff spots seems more inevitable everyday. I'm used to it now tho, so it doesn't really matter. Atleast I'll see them one more time before the cleats come off and the equipment goes into storage for 4 months. It's been a long excruitiating run, but once again, I've learned that it only matters what happens in the end.

My breath of fresh air this week was Rose and I chit chatting for a few on Monday night. I think I told her that for once in a long time, I'm truly happy. This entire meeting with WEndy and Daisy again has brought back memories of how things I used to be...and how I can be.

Sometimes it scares me to think that the reason i'm happy is the fact that I've conceded to life's tremendous force it bares on my back. Am I happy because I've finally collapsed and the pain of the pressures in life have been so constant that my body has finally sent it's counter reactive force; comfortabally numb?

But yet, I keep moving forward. There has been no stop in my progress. I've learned that stopping and standing still will definately make no progress. Even if progress is slow, I have to keep moving. "Let's just hope you're moving in the right direction."

Been doing a lot more fishing lately. I have to take advantage of the once every 4 year phenomena i touched on a few months ago. All type of fishing can be done right now. It's just a matter of going out and throwing a line. Even my kayak has seen some action the past few weeks.

Many groups fall into this curve. Pearl Jam, Dave Matthews Band, Beck...Feel free to name some more!

This is the shit I think about when i'm staring blankly in my screen and have Microsoft Paint in my taskbar.

I walked out of work today at 4:35 pm. I walked south towards Wilshire Bl, and took a position on the southest corner of Westwood Bl and Wilshire Bl.

I stare southbound down Wilshire... I see 4 CHP motorcycles rolling by.

Ordinary people could give a fuck.

My brain, in 0.2 seconds thinks:

"Not their jurisdiction, what are they doing on city streets where it's LAPD jurisdiction?"

2 of them keep heading eastbound on Wilshire. One stops on Glendon, blocks off traffic. One stops at Westwood, and blocks of traffic. "Hmm...must be a motorcade of someone special going by."

A kid was standing next to me.

"The stop lights must not be working."

And of course, in my head, i'm thinking:

"Stop lights not working? this is CHP, not LAPD."

2 seconds later, there is zero traffic going eastbound on Wilshire. 2 minutes later, a caravan of 30 or so SUVs (tinted windows, Secret Service hanging out the side) are moving down Wilshire at about 60 miles an hour. Then a caravan of 20 Lincoln Town Cars are moving at the same speed. Followed by 2 ambulances, and 30 or more SUVs follow that.

"Must have been John Kerry or George W. Bush."

The black kid, no more than 16 years old responds:

"I wish it was Bush. I woulda flipped that motherfucker off."

We both boarded the bus towards the subway station. He was headed towards Silverlake, a 'town' i know so well. He explained how after he moved in, it suddenly got safer.

I explained what gentrification meant.

He seemed to grasp what i was saying. That's why i'm here for. To let people in on what's going on their lives. People being beheaded in Iraq is not what is pertinent in their life. What's happening now and what 's going on in front of their eyes is.

"A few months ago, it wasn't real safe to go outside in the streets."

"Well, that's because a certain class of people hadn't moved in yet. When a certain clss of peope move in, suddenly, the neighborhood is worthy of having law enforcement actually patrol the areas."

Had red hair, freckles. Reminded me of Malcolm. I have seen him a few times around where I work where i catch the bus. There's something about that kid. He's the same kid i gave Che's Motorcyle Diaries to. Hopefully he'll read it.

Hopefully we'll change things.

Left to right, starting from top row.

1. Mesh hats, aka, "Trucker's Hat"
2. Faded Jeans
3. Von Dutch gear
4. Grown adults wearing children's backpacks
5. Ugg Boots
6. Flip flops, cargo shorts.
7. Pink clothing.
8. Big hoop earrings.
9. Big lens glasses.
10. "Ironic" tshirts.
11. Men wearing grimy tshirts under blazers.
12. Hip hop wear.
13. Mesh gym bags
14. Throwback jerseys
15. Rastafarian wear.
16. Dog tags
17. Punk Gear
18. Ipod
19. Super Mini skirts
20. Nextel phones.
21. Shell necklaces
22. Chinese laundry slippers.
23. Lower back tatoos
24. Black Chuck Taylors

Click on the thumbnail, print it out at work, and during lunch, you can play WESTWOOD BINGO with your friends.

I have so much material, I can write a book.

On a lighter note...

I met a girl the other day while getting my hair cut. She even pronounced my name the way I like girls to pronounce my name. She likes good music, she was wearing bright red lipstick (and didn't look like a whore doing so), had an excellent style of dress, actually had a haircut that went with her personality, radiated independence and individuality, was interested in my tattoo (or the portion i let her see), cared about her body enuff to work out frequently, and understood the references I made that usually go over most girls' heads... Updates to come.

I've been going the gym lately in an effort to regain the decent body I had during college. I've finally acknowledged that I'm not gonna see results overnight. I just have to be disciplined and realize that the more I put it off, the harder it will be in the future. It took me 2 months to put on 10 pounds. I'm not gonna lose 10 pounds in 2 weeks. It's easy to say "i wont' work out today." But, today becomes 'this week.' 'This week' becomes 'this month.' And soon, the excuses become easier and easier. My personal health is the single most important aspect in my life.

No more excuses.

And I can't stop thinking about her.

Still workin the kinks out, yo.

Play with it, email me with the bugs.

Comments?

I have a friend who's a baggage handler at SFO. Aside from also being a DJ at KPOO San Francisco (Public Access Radio, for all you peeps that don't be knowing), he spends the majority of his time sifting through bags and making sure they are directed in a correct manner.

U know what the #1 tip he gave me, as far as baggage goes?

"Never, ever, ever put a 'FRAGILE' or 'TREAT WITH CARE' sticker or sign on your baggage."

Why?

Apparently, it's the ones they treat like shit, and use as psuedo soccer balls for their personal games inside the terminals.

On the other hand, the bags that do not carry any special labels get treated gently and with courtesy.

The moral of the story?

Don't fucking leave me URGENT voicemails at work.

Why? Because those are the LAST ones I check during the day. There is a queue of voicemails lined up since Friday afternoon that I have to deal with, and those are getting answered first.

Why? Because, these people were not being individual fuckheads who think the world revovles around them, and that their voicemail takes precedent over everybody else's voicemail.

Leave me an urgent message if the building is about to collapse...or if a family member is in the hospital (in critical condition). Don't leave me an urgent voicemail letting me know that you lost your password to your email account. That's not urgent. Fuck, I don't even consider that 1/2 way important. But yet, this person did and managed to send it as an urgent response.

So, as a tip, if you ever call a customer service center and are forced to leave a message:

1. Do not mark it as "urgent." What you consider "urgent" and what the person checking those voicemails considers "urgent" may be polar opposites.

2. Do not use profanity or yell. Depending on my mood, that voicemail will either get DELETED, or will get placed in the back of the queue.

3. Please be as informative as possible and explain your problem thoroughly. Nothing is worse than hearing

"yeah, name's Jeb...i have problems with my stuff."

I've also gotten the voicemails where the old lady is talking for 32 minutes about her problems with her email, but yet never tells me what the email account is, what company she is working for, nor a number where she can be reached at. Help me help you, fucktard.

4. I have this thing called "Caller ID" on my fone. Calling incessantly from the same number pisses me off. In fact, calling from the same number after we've reached the conclusion that the problem is not ours, makes me wanna redirect the call to some porn chat line.

Those are a few tips from me to you. So whenever you call a Customer Service place, I understand that you might have frustration, but realize that you're not the only person that's frustrated in this world. Have a little common courtesy to step back and realize that this world does not revolve around you, and that you are a little insignificant speck that only affects a miniscule amount of people around you, and probably not in a major way.

I've come to that realization and i'm 25. When will you?

FUCK YOU ALL! You are a disgrace.

The Dodgers pulled another game outta their ass last night.

You'd think that pulling game after game outta their ass would weaken their colon, but the Dodgers seem to have an indestructable porn star asshole. They keep pulling games outta their ass over and over and enjoy it, hence the porn star reference.

Milton Bradley is a character. After making an error in the 8th inning, and having a Dodger fan express his displeasure by tossing a plastic beer bottle in his face, unnamed sources say that Milton grabbed the bottle and walked over to the fan and threw it at his feet and said:

"Don't you know all this trash washes out to sea? It pollutes the beaches, not to mention it kills sand crabs and penguins. Stupid ass."

So, Milton Bradley gets an A in Environmental Sciences. Don't fuck with a person from the LBC. Then the umpire kicked him outta the game.

I was in good form last night. I had mad people talking to me and the stadium erupted in the 9th inning when the Dodgers scored 5 against Colorado's Little League bullpen. My mother and 3 of her bridge playing friends could do a better job at holding games than these Colorado fuckheads. But hey, if they're gonna gift wrap games and hand them to us, we might as well take them.

Meanwhile, in the Mighty OC (Orange County for all you non LA peeps), the Angels beat somebody, and the A's lost to somebody, which means that they are now tied for 1st place. Is the Gay Area (read: Bay Area) just collapsing as a whole? You have the Gayants and the Gay's (read: Giants and the A's) blowing games in September like a young stud at a bathhouse. Even the 49ers can't get any play, considering they lost last Sunday 30something to ZERO. ZERO? You have 9 different ways of scoring in football, all worth more than 1 point and you manage to score ZERO fucking points? Hopefully, the Yay Area Assness doesn't seep down to Southern California.

We already have dickhead fans leaving in the 8th inning. That's pretty gay already.