Blues Keep Calling

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Well, the blues have returned, and the bitterness about being released from my employment has risen to the top once again. I attribute this to tonight being the holiday party. I was not planning on going but then again I was not planning on being fired on November 4.

I also did not anticipate L’Orange Merde being re-elected but people are stupid and they seemed to have voted en masse for L’Orange Merde. Or maybe not. Democrats are not one to dispute election results or to cry foul like the godforsaken pieces of shit that stormed the capitol on January 6, 2021.

Earlier in my bitterness, I mentioned to Daisy that she shouldn’t go to the party. People get drunk and behave badly and then the washer women in the mailroom gossip about them for the rest of the year.

Today I texted her that if she goes that she should have a good time but to be careful. She replied a while later saying that she was going since she hardly ever gets a chance to go out and enjoy herself, she’s usually holed up with her kid.

She also told me she was in the middle of training in some new task, with a woman who was a bit helpful when the shit was being moved closer to the fan. Her advice to contact Leticia James as well as OSHA was a good idea.

A few days after that I was on Lunked In and her name was floated by as a potential contact. I was fine with the suggestion until I saw her Lunked In page which was quite celebratory regarding the return of L’Orange Merde so the MAGA woman was unceremoniously blocked.

Just another seemingly intelligent person who supports the piece of shit under the shoe which keeps reappearing no matter how many times one would try to scrape it off on a curb. So the job has been on my mind a lot today and it’s not a place where I care to spend any time.

Even walking around Hoboken en route to the supermarket this afternoon, I spied a coat rack and thought about taking a photograph of it and sending it to Shahabudeen Khan telling him the large jar of Vaseline was out of the frame.

I thought it was funny and it went nowhere since I did not take the photo. I mentioned it to Bill, to let him in on the joke in my head and he replied with ‘Why am I even thinking about these people’. The private joke did not land when it went public.

I did re-edit my initial email to the Department of Labor. It’s still in the draft stage. It was written before my dismissal and so it was all in what was then, present tense. Here it is over a month later and quite a few words needed to be adapted. It fed the flames of my sour furnace.

For a lark, I fed the email to Gemini AI and asked for a positive version, a harrowing version, and a humorous version.

I can’t be objective.

walking while rambling

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Walking around Hoboken on yet another gray dismal rainy morning…true we need the water but my mental health is paying the price.

Good old Mike called me up at 8:00 this morning when I’m still in bed and I can’t take the call because Bill is still in bed so that was unnerving.

Be will more than likely be bothered by that Mike not Bill well maybe Bill is bothered by it I’ll never know until he explodes in a few days.

A cast of rogue bastards:

Murvin Oralis an IT guy that I worked with last year when I was suffering from a Great Depression and he thought it would be funny if he made a joke about me killing myself

It wasn’t that funny a joke and I confronted him about it.
When I went to the holiday party last year he was quite apologetic but the deed had been done and his bald head showed that there was nothing underneath that skin

Rhianna Dias the fluid thing quite stupid and quite pretty and petty daughter of Raoul Dias so she seems to be untouchable and could never do anything wrong even though she’s quite the idiot

Barbara Mohan the CEO’s assistant I always liked her though Raoul warned me not to trust her but I found her to be more trustworthy than Raoul sometimes

And Joselita Semana the queen of the Hop, a fat closet case who is so deep in the closet that he got married and had a kid so that nobody would think he was sucking cock but there is sucking cock and booth stores and bath houses in the metropolitan area.
I do not know this for a fact but I have seen the pear-shaped type before

Brian Calamaras professional twat and an alumnus of my high school. This asshole is an idiot that walks around like he has a load of shit in his pants and can’t find a comb, dumb as fuck. Somehow this chinless wonder got a woman to marry it.

Don’t know what else to say right now. I am about to walk over Grand Street at 11th Street.
It’s damp but it’s quite warm I’m just appropriately dressed yet still sweating like a horse.
Empty Chick-fil-A garbage is on the sidewalk because you know Chick-fil-A consumers are not necessarily the best or the brightest and don’t know how to dispose of things properly except other people’s rights.

So it’s off to the supermarket for me just to pick up a few items and just to get out of the apartment. Bill is in his gray area and with the two of us in gray areas and gets quite bleak and doesn’t serve anyone any good if we’re both wallowing.

This is the first time in a while that I took notes while walking down the street reciting things into my phone we’ll see how that goes perhaps I can send it to Gemini if they feel like cooperating today and perhaps Gemini could take these words and put them into some sort of readable shape