6/7/06
Lately I've been having a lot of deja vu. Even worse, when I came home from picking up my disgusting dinner all of a sudden I thought "Something was supposed to happen" and it didn't leaving me with an eerie feeling of having missed out on something good.

I sincerely hope that every transportation industry professional are condemned by the god of the Christian dispensationalists. Not only is it inconsiderate to have airplane pilots, truck drivers, train engineers simply and unexpectedly vanish from their post but it engenders the following question.

Does this mean that in the "rapture" that there are some who will go painlessly while others will attend the final judgement under more painful circumstances? Maybe these victims will have the Wal-Mart rapture of dying in a flaming crash or highway pile-up or crushed between two pieces of steel. They won't be around for the "tribulations" but they sure got the shit end of the stick being "called home". Perhaps the so-callled god will enact a moratorium on death and injury so the pearly gates aren't crammed with unwitting gate crashers while those with VIP passes are being rushed through to their final reward.

Plus why would the god of Christian dispensationalists be so hasty to teleport the elect straight to heaven but take his time with what this god considers to be the filth of the earth? Even the most patient of prepubescent players of Sim City waste no time in unleashing a torrent of disasters. Of course everyone says god is unknowable but that assertation stems from the fact that most religious people realize they'll have to top whatever powers and miracles that their god can perform and have run out of ideas.

Greek letters aren't large. I was hoping they'd be much bigger.

After getting lost a few times, I eventually made it to the Colorado Department of Labor. They were pretty cool and since I am not in a managerial or supervisory position and don't make an exorbitant amount of dough that there's no reason why my employer shouldn't be paying me or my fellow employees full overtime pay for work completed after a forty hour work week.

Now I have to think of a way to bring up the subject about being paid full overtime rather than bullshit after hours pay. I'll be happy to do half my job for reduced overtime pay on my time but I'll only do my full job after a forty hour work week if I get my full overtime pay.

Here's the tricky part. The office is located in Colorado, the president of the company lives in Colorado, everyone works in the state of Colorado which is why the company can not lend to Colorado residents. Yet the contact mailing address has been changing every few months from New Mexico to Oklahoma to god knows where.

The rep I spoke with at the Department of Labor says that the company isn't supposed to retaliate but if they do then it goes to court. That made me nervous because I remember the bullshit my mother went through with one of her former employers.

When I got home, I called the FTC but when the rep picked up there I hung up.

I'm looking for the mp3s of Green Day - Basket Case, Cheap Trick - Surrender, Jethro Tull - Aqualung, Beck - Loser.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

One of Pat Robertson's planes crashed over the weekend. Sadly he was left behind.

This happened a few weeks ago and I never got around to posting it here at heptapod.org. Someone submitted their bank statement for review because they were either on benefits or they were requesting more than $300. I wish I could remember the name of the fucking bank because this makes me never want to have them hold onto my money.

"Overdraft priviledge".

A fucking bank, an institution that has investors and people actually think to borrow money from them for houses and cars and they can't fucking spell "privilege".

Everyone likes Jaybird more than me because he's personable.

Message 256831 on *TO MEGATHERION (#213):
Date:    Tue Jun 6 10:29:51 2006 PDT
From:    Jaybird (#105276)
To:      *TO MEGATHERION (#213)

OH I HAD A DREAM!
And Kylie was in it!!!

It was this weird Moo/High School amalgam. If you wanted to moo, you had to show up to the high school building. Different rooms were where everyone hung out and they wrote stuff on the chalkboards and... well, there was a lot of dream logic going on.
But, anyway, it was moo/high school.
Rumors were flying about and some of them had to do with Kylie. She was dating an underclassman! But we didn't know who. So we were all running around asking "what's going on with Kylie? Who's the bf?" and no one knew and Kylie wasn't talking.
Anyway, we got a letter from Mickey and he was talking about his life and his boyfriend this and his boyfriend that and his boyfriend everything and oh did I mention that I have a BOYFRIEND and everyone in the room was rolling their eyes and saying "dude, we get it" and then someone came in the room and said "do we know who Kylie's dating?" and I said "We've eliminated Mickey."

And, for the rest of the dream, we never found out who was dating Kylie.
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Numbers have colors. Eight is always black, three is yellow, four is blue, seven is green, six is red and one is white.

Mentioning the latter is problematic since some hypersensitive folks might read some racist significance into the last correspondence.

I don't know if this is synaesthesia but if words can have a flavor and flavors have tactile sensations then numbers can have colors.