Category Archives: other stuff

Where’s the Birth Certificate, Joffrey

Mother Jones put together some attack ads. The fight for the Iron Throne attack ads.

this one is fucking blasphemy! Daenerys Targaryen/Arya Stark [whatever year it is in Westeros]

I made a prediction on twitter;

I stand by it, no matter what’s “in the books.” There is a reason the fairy tale book with the three ladies raining hell down on KL from three dragons is so prevalent. Either Arya or the Baratheon boy will be on the throne.


metal cats

photo via pretty little kat

photo via pretty little kat

Internet + Cats + [some quirk of humanity] = $$$, apparently. You can’t swing a figurative dead cat without figuratively hitting another cat picture or meme. You’ve got your cute cats, box cats, ceiling cats, Grumpy Cat™s, twitter feeds of, or dedicated to, cats, a billion cat videos and… Metal Cats?

If you had to guess what kind of pet the average heavy metal musician would own, chances are a big, tough dog would come to mind. But a new book, “Metal Cats,” features something quite opposite – men of the hardcore metal music world with their cute cats.

Yes, Metal Cats. Tattooed metal musicians posing with cats. This is a book;

Metal Cats combines two amazing subjects: the extreme personalities of the hardcore metal music scene and their adorable kitties.
Metal isn’t all dark and disturbing, violent and misanthropic. Metal Cats is proof that while the music may be brutal, the people in the scene are softies for their pets just like you and me…

Here’s Leto with a cat:

Photo: powerHouse Books

which one is the scary one again? – Photo: powerHouse Books

How can you get more awesome than Metal Cats? Like this, maybe?

A portion of the proceeds from this book and a series of benefit shows held along the West Coast will go towards one no-kill shelter in each of the four main cities visited.

Good deal. My two three cats approve. And, while photos of metal-heads with cats seems like a small niche market, I think there are more of us out there than you think. There are certainly a shitload of cats.


i see you, painting, all your pictures in gray, only to watch them fade
i see you making all your castles in clay, only to wash them away
all that is, and has ever been, all exist right now in this one moment, can’t we just, start again, here at the end. – [ partial “Reset” lyrics © Pinwheel ]

[tl;dr = alex is a dick, i miss my job, i’m pissed about it, anxiety blows, there’s a cool song at the end]

It has been about three months since I lost my job. At the time, now, and forever, I will continue to believe I lost that job unfairly. Three months is a just a blip, it’s also a long time, depending on state of mind at any given moment. At this given moment, my state of mind says it is both. My state of mind is a fickle asshole.

I worked at a WalMart property; D.C. 8866 Jewelry Repair & Assembly in Marlow, OK. I was one of 300 people, in only two facilities servicing the entirety of WalMart’s (& Sam’s Club) jewelry customer base. We repaired and re-sized rings, fixed other jewelry, etc.. I loved that job. I was fucking great at it too. Not humblebragging, I was fucking great at it. Eventually, my anxiety problems got the better of me, and despite loving the shit out of my job, I was just.. out of a job.

I blame Alex Castro. As I stated in the figure eight post, both floor managers, including my direct supervisor, stated I would be fine re; my attendance. Then, Alex arbitrarily changed the rules. Looking back at first, I thought Alex was a good guy, looking out for my best interests. He’d been a champion for me on previous occasions. At the long end of three months, looking back, I think Alex and Don (Asset Protection Mgr) were looking for a reason to let me go. Since I’d had attendance problems for a few years due to anxiety and blood pressure issues, I can’t totally blame them. I constantly pushed to the edge. But that’s what anxiety does to some. I’d always put myself in a position of go to work or lose your job. It forced me to proactively deal with my anxiety. So when my floor managers told me I’d be fine, I knew it. I knew the attendance policy like I know Stephen King’s “The Mist.” I’d read it backwards and forwards, many times, twisting out loopholes etc.. Thus, why Alex’s arbitrary changing of policy, without corporate say, shocked me.

It took me almost 6 years of different meds, therapists, doctors and a desire to rise above it, to get enough of a handle on my anxiety problems to keep my job. There were days where I thought it would be better just to veer into the first semi truck on the way to work, then I wouldn’t have to deal with the shaky, nauseous feeling I get every single day when I wake up. Of course, losing the job sent me back a ways re; anxiety issues. I know anxiety issues, and the constant struggle with them, can cause extreme frustration and can lead to one falling into a deep depression. I think I’ve managed to keep away from that, but I’m too depressed to care.

My job at D.C. 8866 was just another castle made of clay, now washed away. I would go back in a second, if Alex asked. Since that’s not likely, I have to start building another castle, painting another picture. They’ll certainly wash out/fade, but I have to keep trying.

As I process this more, I may post more self-indulgent whining. For now, though, I’m just molding clay.

tweet of the day – 03.26.14

I welcome our computer nerd overlords :)

 if you’re so inclined, you can follow me on twitter. — [ see all totds ]

just a fun tweet

as i tweeted in response, #teamdexterslaboratory #freejohnnygalecki

figure eight

“Beginning at the end, of the beginning, of the end, Twisting and turning between one and ten, The puzzle never ends, make your demons your friends, It’s the beginning of a road that leads right back to the Beginning of the end..”
[Memento – Figure Eight]
[ tl;dr = 2013 sucked, the beginning of 2014 sucked a little less, getting better now, more posts forthcoming, there’s a cool song at the end of this post ]

From around July 2012 to February 2014 my life has been mostly a living hell. I say that relatively, considering there are oodles more people on this earth that have it orders-of-magnitude worse. But, still, it has been pretty bad from my vantage point.

That July, on a Thursday, one day before a scheduled vacation, I had what the ER doc called a precursor to a heart attack, or more likely to a stroke. My vision blurred, then doubled. My heart started racing. When I went to the med room at work, my heart rate was near 160bpm and my blood pressure was so high the machine couldn’t read it. I went to the ER, where I was fed glycerin and baby aspirin, x-rayed, and hooked to a heart monitor and admitted for an overnight stay. Since I was in the hospital, I had to call in the next day. That’s where all the bullshit started.

Since this happened at work, where I spent 8 hours a day, being at work was fucking terrifying. I was afraid that at any moment, my eyes would say, “fuck it,” and my heart would jam on the gas pedal. This led to many call-ins. For being a walmart entity, they were fairly generous at first (although, when I spent the night in the hospital, my wife stayed with me and her employer, also walmart, didn’t knock her for missing that Friday while mine did, and I was in the fucking hospital). For almost 18 months I came as close as could to getting fired (without going over) because of recurring and worsening panic attacks.

In December 2013 I was once again on the edge of out-of-workville, although the illness was different this time. Hemorrhoids. Making it kinda hard to be of any use in a job where I sat for 7 hours a day. One day I needed to leave, and asked two floor managers if I would be okay leaving, ie; would it put me into termination territory, or did I have some room to work with. They both told me, in no uncertain terms, that because I was leaving for a pre-existing illness it would be combined with previous days and not count on its own. In other words, “you’re fine, go on home and i hope you feel better.” So, I went home, slathered my ass in preparation h.

I go in the next day, it is December 23rd, our last workday until December 26th. It was christmas. I get called into the HR manager’s office. His name is Alejandro (Alex) Castro. Alex tells me that because of [some bullshit HR-speak] that leaving early the previous day, despite what the floor managers told me, put me in termination territory. Unless I could get in to see my doctor, and have him sign off on a leave of absence to cover the days I’d missed, I’d be fired. I had to have the paperwork in by December 26th. I had to make an appointment with my Doctor, on christmas eve.

Since no one save for old rich people get to see the doctor on christmas eve, I was fucked. So, basically, I had a nice christmas with the family, then lost my job.

brownieOh, and the day after christmas, our oldest dog, Brownie (that’s him, over there), died. It was a fucking awful all-day event. He’d been arthritic, but in good spirits the few days prior, then that day he just couldn’t move, and could barely breathe. He finally passed about 11pm on the 26th. Then, January sucked because I started the new year with no fucking job, and in shit health.

In late January, early February, I was at the lowest point I’d been in 20+ years. I thought it was the end of my life, and slowly I’d just die. After a long talk with the wife, and a healthy inner dialogue (which probably looked clown shit crazy from the outside) I realized; I’ve been here before. Came out of it better than before, too. I am lucky enough to be married to a wonderful, beautiful, understanding wife, and to have two amazing kids doing great on their own.

I am working on getting healthier, have my anxiety issues mostly under control (as long as I don’t have to leave the house. Or see or talk to people), and money worries are temporarily non-existent. I have some ideas, some things I’m going to try. Hopefully one or more work. If not, I will keep trying.

Since I don’t have a job (other than attending to every whim of Queen Wife), I will (probably) be blogging more. I’ve said that a dozen times and never followed through. Mainly because I was dying and having the joy and pleasure ripped out of me by Alex Castro. But, since he’s no longer the boss of me, fuck him. Also, because he’s no longer the boss of me, I feel a twinge of joy.

It isn’t the end. It is the beginning. Of the end. Of the beginning.