Wednesday, December 24, 2003

Well, I haven't really written anything in a while, but I say the Kompressor kept the place pretty neat. Excellent. It is Christmas eve-day, which means that tonight I actually go to church and not make snide comments the entire time, since it is a family event. I will probably be spending this Christmas much like I spend all my others, mudding. If anyone would like to join me, there will probably be free drinks or something along those lines to celebrate Christmas on Core 2653, and that is usually a pretty good time, although a somewhat pathetic way to celebrate Christmas. Get in touch with you inner miner and 'drill ore' with me to the tune of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer! Holiday jubilations and singing *heavenly choir bursts into song and Ebert shoots himself because he's stuck in traffic again* Oh yeah, just as a little side note, if I ever see anyone driving drunk, I sweat to god I am going to run you off the road and kick your ass. For those of you that don't know, I got hit by a car the other night, while driving through a green light. Luckily, I didn't have any windows in at the time, otherwise Jacqui probably would have been cut up pretty bad. As it was, no one was hurt. In a complete lack of judgement my dad and I decided not to call the cops, but I noticed a bit later that my inspection sticker was about three months overdue, which means that I probably would have gotten a ticket anyway. Oh well, the car is getting fixed at entirely his expense, and I might even get a new top out of it all. Excellent. Well, I'm off to play some Gamecube, which includes all of the original Zeldas! Woot! Those are some old school classics, very nice. Everybody have a nice Christmas, and if things go the way I think they will, I may actually be able to post pictures up here pretty soon, and then you all have to look at me, HAHAHAH!

Monday, December 15, 2003

K IS FOR KOMPRESSOR!!!!!!!!
The battle for Helm's Deep was nothing compared with the struggle that I am going through to get myself and my buddies LOTR tickets. I mean, come on guys, we know the king returns, what more do you need? This should be something special, that I have tickets to, not some schmoe down the street who doesn't even know that there are books out there, let alone the ones that the movies are based on. Ridiculous, almost makes me wish I was still a huge pirate. Yeah, nothing like making lots of fat cash off of some new release. Those were the good old days. Now I just sit here, broke, waiting for some food and a break in the clouds to allow a dash to some seedy burger joint surrounded with people who don't even know who they are anymore. Yeah, society blows. *swishes his long morbid hair back over his head* Yeah, fuck all yall. Seriously though, it seems that I may actually get my package, so I should be veiled in a thick shroud of delicious smoke in no time. Most excellent. And now to return to my humble couch and go back to sleep to prepare for the midnight run to catch the train. The guards never watch the last car, and there may even be a bit of food in there this time. We can't fail, the border is only a few miles away, I'm sure we'll be able to make it across this time, and see all the people that this horrible division has ripped away from us. Damn you Texas, and... uh, West Texas. Think they are so much better then us living in their own houses and driving cars and not waiting behind thirty other tired people to get a bit of bread so that you can drag your way through the day doing your mindless work. Next thing you know they will put up a big wall or something...

Sunday, December 14, 2003

So I will open today with a word of warning: If you are going to talk on the phone with a gorilla mask, remember to bring plenty of nerf darts. I would also like to announce my rivalry with the space bar, which will be racing against my hand to decide once and for all where spaces in sentences should go. Unfortunately, my hand keeps trying to type it's own thing, to which I say, nay! Not like the horse, like the guys with the powedered wigs saying no to some ridiculous vote that the arch-bishop of Cantbury is trying to push on the left wing majority of labor party reformists in the british parliament. It has been a good time here in San Antonio if you ignore the extreme slackerness and negligence for her friends that Kristen displayed just last night as Rob and I were turned into giant blocks of ice who had only just then fired guns in their whole lives. But that is alright, Rob got everyone back by cleverly trapping everyone inside wal mart until we didn't even want to buy a game with a big purple brain and, and.... and clay!! Yeah, we could have been molding clay right now, but no, Rob wouldn't let me steal the stuff out of the container, you know they want you to steal that stuff, that is why they let people into the store. It is because wal mart has joined in my glorious campaign of Communism in Texas, by encouraging plenty of poor, otherwise unable families to load the store full of thousands of their offspring so that it goes unnoticed when I cut a leaf off of some fake plant and pin it to my crotch. Excellent. The system works. This is electronics gentleman, it represents the big man himself, NOT ONE STEP BACKWARD!~>

Thursday, December 11, 2003

Will the parade of shit ever stop? WILL IT! PLEASE GOD MAKE THE PARADE STOP, the ELEPHANTS are CRUSHING MY HEAD!!!! So, repeated talks with UPS are not advised, because they only serve to further infuriate anyone involved. Customer server representative number one was very nice, and helpful. In fact, he solved my problem. The address, was changeable. In fact, he was about to do so, when I had the brilliant idea, of getting the address in San Antonio, so that we could enjoy the hookah there. Of course, I wasn't going to end up with the same person when I called back, but hey, they should all be able to do the same thing right? Right. Customer service representative number two, was not so nice. She insisted that there was nothing I could do. And further illustrated the fact that I should be here, in order to sign for my package. What brilliant advice. Perhaps, you should be stapled to the wall. If I could be here, I wouldn't be calling, because your not that interesting to talk to. Perhaps, number two, was simply wrong. Customer service representative number three wouldn't let me speak with her manager. Instead, she simply intercepted my question and decided to explain to me how many packages they have to deliver each day, and that for some reason, it would more convenient for me, if I had to wait another 5 days for my package. Apparently, this person doesn't mind waiting, and doesn't mind not getting what they paid for. I believe, I was told, that it would arrive on the 12th. Now they have changed this to the 15th, and even more impossible date for me to meet. But that's okay, because it's easier for everyone involved, if they first attempt to deliver this package. Despite the fact that I know that no one will be here at all. But no, even though all the packages have bar codes on them, it's still much too hard, to simply divert the package, and save everyone a bit of time. Of course, first the idea of even changing the address was shot down. Which leads me to believe, that number one, was the biggest idiot of all three. I never did get to speak to the manager, but I was informed, that my package, might get to El Paso, by the 18th. Maybe. It could also take longer. At least their complete lack of useful information is evenly dispersed throughout their entire company. I still don't understand why I can't send this message now, because they know what truck it's on, they know where it's going, they just don't know how to hit a few keys so that this whole problem goes away. WHY!?!?! I DON"T UNDERSTAND WHY NO ONE CAN HELP ME.
God damnit! FUCKING UPS. I hate you all with the flaming passion of a billion robot's exhaust. Why oh why do you even bother calling yourselves a delivery company?! Alright, so here is the second part of this story, and why I decided to tell you that story in the first place. About two weeks ago, I decided to order myself a nice thirty inch hookah. Free shipping too, very nice deal all around. I ordered it so long ago based on the fact that I knew the UPS wouldn't get it here when they said they would and would instead feed me lots of bullshit. Why the rush? Well first of all, when I order something I want it right fucking then, and second of all, I am going home for Christmas in two days and it would have been nice to have a hookah to smoke with my friends in San Antonio. BUT NO! UPS thinks that that is a bad idea. Well they can go to hell. So a few days ago I notice that my tracking information still hasn't been updated from the very vague "billing information received" which means that they got the money for their service, but have no idea what is going on aside from that. So I call them and ask, what the hell is going on with my package, nice and polite, just trying to get some simple information. Little did I know that I would get to call these people at least five times, and learn a little tidbit of information every time I got one of their slack-jawed yokels on the phone. First they tell me it is supposed to be delivered that day. Awesome, I'm ecstatic and quickly inform everyone that we will be enjoying a nice relaxing smoke tonight. Then nine o'clock roles around, still no delivery. So I call the front desk. Nothing. UPS on the phone again, "well uh, it's scheduled for today, and the driver will keep going until he delivers everything, so just wait" You do realize that it's like nine thirty right? "yeah, it happens sometime." GOD DAMNIT CABOOSE! If you don't know, then just fucking tell me, don't go around being a little bitch. Fine, doesn't get here that day, that's cool. Maybe today? The next guy I get on the phone tells me that it should have gotten there, but they don't actually know if they even have the package yet. Don't know if you have it? How are you supposed to deliver it anywhere if you DON'T FUCKING KNOW THAT YOU HAVE IT!?! Fine, so where is it. "uh, we don't know, try calling the shipper" Alright, no answer. I'm still of the opinion that if it were my job to deliver thousands of packages every day, I would try and keep some sort of record on what's going on with them all. But hey, I'm not a global delivery company, just some guy that they like to ream repeatedly throughout the course of his entire life! Once again, call UPS, well, we can trace the package for you, and then maybe change the delivery address. Maybe? Don't they have some sort of training program in place, or do they just find some people with missing teeth and slap a headset on them? Fine, I'll call the seller again, damndable hippies probably smoke too much themselves, so they don't even know what UPS is. I finally get someone on the phone there, which is also odd, because most places have people available during the day, and not at three in the morning. Good to see someone is finally catering to the vampire and hooker crowd. "Uh, all our computers are shut down, so I can't really tell you anything." Great, just great. One last check at UPS reveals that my package has been rescheduled. It seems it magically turned up somewhere in a California sorting center. Great, I'm glad that you picked up a box and upheld your fucking job to deliver it. So now they have rescheduled it for December 15th. Well fan-frickin-tastic. Let me just set up a tent outside of my dorm and wait for those assholes to show up. On the 15th I will be on a train, going home, without my hookah, writing hatemail to UPS. So now I have no hookah, a bunch of tobacco, disappointed friends, no guarantee that I am actually going to get this thing anytime before January, and a big list of expletives reserved just in case someone in a brown uniform walks by.

Wednesday, December 10, 2003

Why is it that no one ever knows what's going on, anywhere at anytime! On top of that they have to lie about it in order to make me feel all happy that things are working out, and then make it blatantly obvious that they were lieing! I despise those men in their brown trucks and their brown uniforms. They were so much brown to symbolize what a piece of shit they really are. Slow as shit, dumb as shit, and hey, even full of shit. Alright, so maybe I'm being a little harsh on our old friend UPS. Maybe I'm being a little harsh? Oh no, they have had far too many opportunities to make things up to me but they never ever have. I continue to be disappointed by their performance every single time they are even remotely involved in a delivery situation. Alright, relax, it's alright. Here is the story. My hatred of UPS goes back quite a ways, to the lofty days when anything but the mail seemed lightning fast and way too expensive. Around 6th grade I decided to take some sizeable gains out of the market and purchase a shiny new computer to call my very own. My first major purchase. A wonderful occasion for a young nerd right? You would think so, but even the purest, sleekest, most beautiful of machines can be spoiled by bad shipping. I endure for about a week of sitting at some other computer and compulsively checking the tracking information on their website, shouting out with joy every time the wonderful packages jumped closer and closer. Finally their got here! But of it was only the monitor and the speakers. So now I had half of a computer, just sitting on my desk laughing at me. Laughing and sharing secrets with the speakers that I just couldn't hear without the sound card that came in the other half that wasn't here yet! No big deal, the case is supposed to be delivered on Monday. The weekend, terrible terrible weekend. You think the postal service is lazy? At least they deliver on Saturday. Nothing happened, nothing at all, my case sat a mere 200 miles away, easily drivable in one day, but destined to stay just out of reach for the time being. Monday, the big day, no one is home to sign for it. They take it back. Tuesday, no one is home, they take it back. Finally on Wednesday someone was home all day, but no delivery?!?!? FINE, so the I call them and politely speak very calmly through clenched teeth and ask them to just leave the package in their warehouse, and I will go and pick it up. So another anticipation filled school day rolls by, and I rush outside and make my mom haul ass on over to the airport to pick this thing up. Oh, you wanted us to keep it here right? Well, someone put it on the truck anyway. Oh, wonderful *nervous twitch* just wonderful. Perhaps *fish clenching* you would like to tell me just who *twitch* is the brilliant soul that must now be removed from this earth? Alright, no time for disembowling, we need to get home in time to try and sign for the damn thing before the deliver fails again. But no, no package, just a little slip, saying they will try yet again tomorrow, and look, we just missed them by 15 minutes. Fiddle-dee-dee that will require a tetanus shot is what I'm thinking as I punch the car and cut myself. So the next day, I have decided to ditch school. Fuck it, I want this thing and I'm sure as hell not going to get anything done behind a desk unless it has my shiny new box sitting underneath it, happily purring away because we are together at last. The guy gets here, and everything is nice and smooth. I even smile at the delivery driver, despite the flashes of him laughing and driving away the all those days before. What brings all of this reminiscing on? Oh, I'll get to that, don't you worry.

Monday, December 08, 2003

Yet another sleepless night. This one wasn't so bad though. Now all I have to do is make it through the next hour. Have you ever noticed that the best sleep is to be had on top of a pillow made of 15-30% of your grade? I have a wide selection of finals available for you to try out, right here in the store! Guaranteed not to leave imprints like your hand or watch. No more embarrassing red marks! And even better, drool has been shown to select the right answer on scantrons one out of five times! In other news, if anyone ever invites you to try out a MUD/MUSH/anything text based, run away, for these people are trying to steal your soul. People think quitting smoking is hard? HA! At the mere mention of mudding I scurried to find my copy of zMUD, and crawl back into the sweetness that is Core 2653, and the best damn three hours I ever spent down in an ASCII mine typing 'drill ore' over and over again in the hopes of one day striking it rich. I am now fully at the mercy of the telnet beast. Beautiful. If anyone wants to check it out, I'm Robochris, and I'll be happy to have some company in the mines, or down a pint with you after the shift is over. Anyway, I actually do have some finals today, so I'm on my way.

Thursday, December 04, 2003

I don't care what people say ramen is excellent. I could probably eat it everyday if I had to, for one simple reason: convenience. There is nothing like just pouring some water into a cup and having a hot meal. Not like the arduous task of putting on clothes and actually leaving the building to walk through the blistering cold just so you can get a slice of pizza. No, ramen is my friend because it accepts me for the lazy bastard that I am. It is my only comfort currently as I lament the happenings of the day. Having once again had the brilliant idea of staying up all night to do an assignment, I needed nap after economics. Of course, due to this late night creative session, I never woke up again and missed the very class that I had been doing work for. Irony is cruel and funny (depending on who it happens to). But ramen won't show me a good time and then leave me helpless lieing on the bed, comfortable and asleep. No, ramen will fill me and burn my mouth. This is the great balance, and it must be maintained.
My vast kingdom of stuff consisting mostly of piles of other stuff for a glass of orange juice. Hell, forget the glass, it's time to drink straight out of the carton. Ah, sweet nectar of the gods. A sliver of freezing cold orangy flavor creeps down my throat and satisfies the great dragon within. Oh, you've never heard of dragons that are satiated and even made tame by a good hearty gulp of orange juice? WELL WHOSE MAD WORLD ARE YOU LIVING IN!!!! Oh some said I was mad to trek all the way to the fridge an the slight hope that the dragon was one of the statistically insignificant number that fear citric acid. I pressed on through the great forest old macaroni and old gaming mags. And there it was, my savior, the coolmaster 3.5. Not the mightiest of strongholds, but Vitamin C adds an inhuman strength to whatever it touches! Finally the dragon would quit terrorizing the pants that reside in the local villages, but alas, DAMN YOU! A setting too cold has encased my only hope within a thick layer of carbonite. Where is an exiled princess disguised as a bounty hunter when you need her?

Monday, December 01, 2003

I must say, simply because I just finished it, that The Simpsons Season Three is gold. For the next few years there will be season after season of excellent Simpsons episodes coming out on DVD, and we will eventually get to my personal favorite, Homer vs. The Eighteenth Amendment. Classic. Mad props go out to the lady who made it all possible, without whose wonderful money none of this would have ever happened, I would like to present the Second Annual Montgomery Burns Award for Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence to...... Sabrina. Give her a big hand everybody, and lets hope she doesn't fall off the balcony like that guy last year.

This is my friend Tim. Notice that Tim likes to ride his bike at high speeds. This isn't always good for Tim because he tends to lose his balance and fall off his bike almost every day. That's bad for Tim. Let's see what Tim is up to on his bike today.


Oh no, it seems that Tim's watch is getting all sticky on his arm, nobody likes that. I hope that he will be okay, it would be terrible if he fell again!



TIM! Whatever will happen to you when you reach the cold, cruel ground! We'll be right back...

Right now!

And now for the thrilling conclusion of..... Tim's Trip to the Ground!



It seems things will turn out just fine. Go get 'em Tim.

There you have. Let this be a lesson to everyone. First of all, Shladiez make everything better, and second of all, the ground never wins. So remember kids, if anyone ever asks you if you would like to be covered in gravel and concrete and flattened so that everyone can walk their dirty dirty shows all over you, say yes, because it is an excellent place to be when skirt season starts.