"The Fish Returns"

Good to hear from everyone. Even a comment from "Slippery." Who is a real person by the way. He and I went to Rowdy High together. From whence time period? Back in the day! Circa the mystical 60's. Late 60's that is. As the world as we knew it was being demolished via Viet Nam, the feminist movement, and the civil rights struggles.

We made it, I guess. But we went through a lot of shit to get here. Which segues into my unemployment scenario. My boss evidently had it out for me. Seems we didn't see eye to eye on management styles. And because he outranked me, I was the one shown the door.

I've never worked with such a vindictive fuck. [ pardon my french, s'il vous plait ] And arrogant, pompous, belittling know-it-all. In 2006, it's hard to believe this guy, who violates most tenets of management, manages to hang on.

One of my stores at the airport was infested with rats. And my boss, the tightwad that he was, refused to seal the holes from whence they came. We had refrigeration issues out the ying-yang. We were supposed to serve beer at 38 degrees from the tap. But none of the stores in the airport in our company even came close. Maybe that's why the fucker didn't like me. Because I was always confused as to what standards we were to follow.

Anyway, thanks for the encouraging words. And it's always good to hear from pictru and rockhead. Roll Tide, er, Rock on, Luby's, eh?

Farewell and adieu, v.c.

P.S. Tonite's song=

P.S.S. I hate to tell Marty that my picture gizmo isn't working. Alas, no pictures until we can discover the root of the problem. Selah.

"How Not To Get A Job"

From AOL, my provider, eh?

Hello From Cyberspace"

The catfish's participation has been dormant as of late. It's a long story, and one I will share soon. Once again I am a free agent in the world of employment. Here we go again, eh?

Seems my boss didn't cotton to my way of thinking. And vice versa to be sure. At my new/old digs, the golden rule was in vogue. Whoever has the gold makes the rules, and yours truly has no gold to speak of, so I was doomed.

My lard-ass, er, pleasingly plump, boss was a son-of-a-gun. And I'm glad to leave the environment. Passive-aggressivism out the ying-yang is being polite to descibe the many shenanigans that took place while I was employed there.

Hell-Whole II. Is all I can say. However, I did like the freedom of managing my own schedule. But as in most food biz jobs, the hours are long, the staff is undependendable and don't give a shit, and the mental duress is not worth it.

Well, c'est la vie. The cat's out of the bag. [ pun intention left to the discretion of the reader ]

It's all good, v.c.

P.S. If you happen to be reading, hootster, I always remember your saying, "when I'm on my death bed, Shirley, I won't think I should have worked more hours on the job." Paraphrasing, but you get the jist. And my sentiments exactly.

P.S.S. Click on the link to fully appreciate what the food biz does to you!

"You're Such A Lovely Audience; We'd Love To Take You Home With Us; We'd Love To Take You Home!"

When the Sgt. Pepper hit the stores and my pal, Steve Woodford, loaned me his copy, I noticed a different lyric permeating [ for lack of a better word ] the songs. It is well-chronicled how the Fab 4 were and still are my favorite artists.
P.S. And whatever happened to Billy Shears?

P.S.S. A Day in the Life

"Election Results 2006"

 
 

One couple disconsolate at the results; the other couple elated. Which is which? You decide. 

"John Kerry As The Manchurian Candidate?"

 
 
 
 

The following article comes from "down under" via Belgium. Thanks to Shirley from sunny and blue Hawaii. 

IN John Frankenheimer's electrifying 1962 thriller The Manchurian Candidate, an American soldier is captured by communists during the Korean War, brainwashed and programmed to return to the US and, years later, to assassinate a presidential candidate.
There is compelling evidence now that John Kerry is a kind of Manchurian Candidate of Democratic politics.

It seems entirely possible that at some point in his career he was seized by a youthful Karl Rove, brainwashed and programmed to kill off, at crucial moments in American history, the Democratic Party's political prospects.

The clues were there all along, if we'd only looked closely enough. His curious combination of self-satisfied superiority and baffled indecisiveness was obviously too contradictory a mental characteristic to be natural. His ponderous oratorical style and studied condescension suggested something artificial had interfered with the firing of the synapses.

To read the entire article click here!

"And To Think This Guy Was Almost President"

 
 

Skerry thought, eh?