Caterwauling

Here I sit, blogging on a Friday night. Oh joy and rapture. I wasn’t lacking an invitation to go out, but it’s kinda difficult with no money. Whatsoever. Until payday on Tuesday, when I write out the rent check and whatever bills have gone neglected (i.e., home phone). Argh.

Got a response to the lone personal ad that’s still live. All these fricking sites charge you to open your mail, but at least I got to see its subject line. It’s from a couple. A COUPLE!!! Christ, I can’t even chew gum and drive, or smoke and walk, without running into a curb. Although I’ve always had fantasies about being a guest star (a la Samantha Jones), I can’t say I’m interested. 🙂 Oh well! Better luck next time. … Perhaps they liked my headline (as repeated above), and why wouldn’t they? 😉

Met a hottie in Starbucks tonight (as I paid with quarters for my cinnamon spice mocha). Perhaps I will go back for a different type of hot liquid to drink. … 😉 Only next time, I need to have cash so I don’t look so pathetic!

Blew the remainder of my bank account tonight. Bought a nifty, cheap little lamp at a local discount store. It’s square, black wrought-iron with a square blue shade inside of it. Cool as shit. I worked 12 hours today — damn it, I deserved it, and the cost equaled an hour of pay (not to insinuate that I am paid hourly, though).

Not to pitch a bitch about work, but Jackie Chan put me on a team to pull together a press conference on this coming Monday, and he put the brakes on my involvement today. I had written a great press release and spent the equivalent of three hours advising him on media relations (as he has no fucking clue about it). I thought this would be my chance to shine, but no luck. Unfortunately, he knows I’m swamped, so yanking me off the team, he felt, was the best decision for all of us. Chickenshit even made Shan break the news to me, and then he instructed her to give my shit to my predecessor, who is now his mistress, I believe. I’m slightly furious, but the fact is, I didn’t have adequate time to devote to it (even though, at Shan’s and my request, he did move it to Tuesday). I told IKEA Boy that I shouldn’t be this disillusioned, only four months into the job.

That’s when it occurred to me why my lucky number is three … at every job I’ve held, I’ve hit my breaking point at the four-month mark. For instance, at this time last year, I was happy as a lark at Two Strikes (actually, I was getting ready to go to South Carolina with Brat for what I had hoped would be a 14-Karat Fuckfest). The day after I returned to Pittsburgh, Incoherent Twit told me that Her Royal Pretentiousness was on a rampage and wanted to rip us both to shreds upon my arrival into work, four days from then. And she did. Big time. Again, I’d been at the job a mere four months.

Perhaps this is why I need to do a full-time consulting gig, and now I know to limit my stints to four months. Heh. I really thought I’d show Jackie, et. al., how dazzling, powerful, resourceful and influential I can be. And when Shan and I tag-teamed him with all of our ideas, concerns, needs and potential, he did his faggy eye flutter and ran screaming from the office 10 minutes later, not to be seen till the next day. Bastard.

Something I’ve learned, in my extensive non-profit experience, is that there are two forces that make an organization work: the program people and the operations people. The program people have the dreams and the desire and the heart, but they don’t know shit about logistics. Then the operations people (like me) buy into the dream long enough to figure out how to make these grand dreams come true. Program people don’t like details, planning or, god forbid, Plan Bs. Operations people want to kick program people in the ass, because we can’t reach their heads that are in the clouds. Jackie is a program person. HRP was a program person. IKEA Boy, Shan, F/OM and I play for the other team, and we are the people who will die trying to please program people if we don’t wise up and learn to chase our own dreams.

I’m not angry, and I’m not going to turn back into a person who hates going into work every day. But can Jackie even conceive of the potential he’s missing? I beat him over the head with advice and ideas, and I made it clear from the get-go that my best contribution to the project would be in an advisory capacity. Then he acted shocked when he found out that my time really WAS limited, and he seemed to reject the professional advisement I provided. My name is off the press release, off the project, off the list for future endeavors. Now dumb bitch Jennifer will be considered our press conference queen. What’s sad is that she is picking up where I left off, and I accomplished a lot, I think, in two days. And they’re PAYING her!!! I was going to go in tomorrow and VOLUNTEER my weekend to pull the conference together. Shit. Am I stupid?

Jennifer is going to get the glory, and that’s what burns my muffins. But least I don’t have to fuck Jackie to keep my job, though. 🙂 Something tells me that I might just perhaps be getting the better end of the deal.

Just a few minutes on a lunch break I shouldn’t be taking. … 🙂 Mmmmm …. Popeye’s cajun nuggets. …

1. How many TVs do you have in your home?

Two. Tiff’s is in the living room; mine in my bedroom. I never even used to sleep in my old bedroom, when I lived alone. Now, with the TV in there and the computer, there’s no reason to leave. 😉

2. On average, how much TV do you watch in a week?

Entirely too much. Depends on when I’m home, ’cause I flip it on when I enter my Batcave, and I turn it off when I leave.

3. Do you feel that television is bad for young children?

Depends on what level of fuck-ups their parents are. When TV is used as a babysitter, it’s bad for them because kids can only be exposed to so much trash before their brains turn to mush. (Adults, too, I suppose.) And I’d hate to envision a world where children are watching the violence on the news without a parent there to explain to them what is happening in the world.

4. What TV shows do you absolutely HAVE to watch, and if you miss them, you’re heartbroken?

In no particular order, “ER,” “Will and Grace,” “Friends,” “Real World,” “West Wing” and “Trading Spaces.” And of course “Sex and the City” and “Six Feet Under,” when it’s their seasons to run.

5. If you had the power to create your own television network, what would your line-up look like?

All Jon Bon Jovi, all the time. And some breaking news. And “Trading Spaces.” And “Brat Pack” movies. 🙂

A supposed witness gave false information in the most recent incident of the beltway sniper case. Thanks, asshole. A shooting happens in my county, and some FOB moron tampers with the case, just so he can get some presstime. What is this world coming to?

My conspiracy-theory radar is up again. Was he planted on the scene, to give a false account, so that Sniperoo could get away in a different vehicle than described? Or was he thinking that he would be safe in describing a cream-colored van with the left taillight out, because other witnesses had given similar accounts in previous cases? Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ.

The cops are telling us to discount what that non-witness said, which leaves us with the following description of Sniperoo:

1. Shoots people (we’ve confirmed he uses bullets, not bows-and-arrows)

2. Uses a vehicle (as it’s difficult to shoot people from the Metro)

3. Male (no one has disputed this yet, although what kind of man would do this?)

4. Likes to drive (have gun, will travel).

Well, that makes me feel safer than ever! Christ. Now to go off to work. Dare I say that my gas tank is gettin’ kinda low?

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2. cat crap

3. d.c. sniper wedge theory

4. made to straddle a board against my pussy

Lawd, I guess I post some really weird shit, to attract all this attention. 🙂 At any rate, Madonnarama is on Saturday night!!!!!

Here’s a fact sheet about the gunman/gunmen.

Wolf Blintzer did a special tonight on the beltway sniper shootings, and he did a piece on how the media is aiding and impeding the case. His survey of the day has viewers voting which letter grade (A-F) that they would give to the media for their coverage. Overwhelmingly, the watchdogs got a big fat F on their report cards.

I could go into what I wrote two posts ago, why I am embarrassed for my media counterparts. But I also have fledgling hope that they truly are evaluating some of the leads they are given, and maybe they truly are using their judgment about what not to report so as not to damage the investigation. I’ve been wrong before, though. The interviewees made a good point that it takes two to tango … that is, someone has to leak explosive information in order for it to be reported. Journalists snatch any little bone, though, and treat it like a steak dinner … but like investigators, journalists also know that some of those bones are, in fact, made out of clouds and papier-maiche.

Gawd, I’ve gotten deep. I need drugs. Badly. Here’s to hoping I finish my SEVEN (how the hell did that happen?) articles and somehow manage to whip together a press release and press CONFERENCE by Monday. This is seriously affecting my weekend plans to get fucked up … while I will most certainly deserve any juicy little pill that I swallow or herb that I smoke, can I afford to be spaced out on Monday? And do I actually have to be at this debacle that I am supposed to organize? Fuck me running.

Over at Amish Tech Support, Laurence suggested that the next target should be Geraldo. Sorry, Larry, I’ve got my hopes on it being Martha Stewart, in town for a doily-making convention. But it would be such a shame to hear passersby cheering on the sniper, wouldn’t it? Were that the case, I wouldn’t turn Sniperoo in … I’d build a memorial in his-or-their honor and display it proudly at the Mall.

I’ve been a fan of Dawn Olsen’s blog for the past few weeks, because she’s got some intelligent things to say about the beltway sniper. She also attracts a lot of commentary from ex-military types, and of course I leave comments because I am not a troll (i.e., I’d love it if more of my faithful readers would contribute their thoughts to my rants!!!).

At any rate, I posted a comment on one of her entries, and I just wanted to share my rant here:

The new info about it being an olive-skinned man is kind of unnerving. What if it’s someone pissed off about the bombings in the middle east and is trying to make his own sort of warped justice? Probably half of the population here in NoVA fits that description. I know the cops have license plate digits, at least a portion of them. I just wish they would TELL us what combination of numbers to look for. We all have cell phones … I’m ready to put the tip line number on my speed dial. Empower the residents, damn it!!! And I’d be pretty damn happy to see military planes flying overhead, scoping out this fuckwit. In this case, I should hope that military intervention would be approved to assist the cops.

Bleah. Back to work. 🙂

Shan, IKEA Boy and I all have what I believe to be a certain level of common sense that actually surpasses the highest level of intelligence. When we hear about things going on in the news, like the beltway sniper debacle, we are quick to figure out what should have been done during the investigation and how it should proceed, because we have an uncanny way of seeing facts differently than the way they were presented to us.

I am embarrassed at the behavior of many of the journalists. The networks are in mad competition to rush info across the airwaves, even if it’s incorrect, just so they can claim that THEY were “First On the Scene” — which they probably weren’t. I watch press conferences led by Chief Moose in Montgomery County, Md., where they antagonize him with the same questions asked 30 different ways, and I shudder. Of course you’re supposed to ask multiple questions, to either get him to release more info than he planned or to maybe get a usable soundbite from him (he’s not the most eloquent speaker I’ve ever heard, that’s for damn sure — I mean, he tells the media to cooperate “wit” him and then the next day tells them to cooperate “wif” him. Who’s with me on requiring public figures to attend a speech class?).

Of course, it must be said that’s he’s waaaaaaaayyyyy more coherent than some of the witnesses, who you can tell are FOB (fresh off the boat). I think Cheech and Chong are down here, showing up at all of the terror-stricken areas, providing interviews as supposed eyewitnesses. Fire up another doobie, Paco. Oh, the agony. It’s like listening to Bling-Bling the Crack Expert (MPEG available at Bumfights.com).

At any rate, I know the media are frustrated. I would be, too, were I out there with them. But perhaps I have lost my journalistic edge, but I do understand that there are some facts to which the public is not — and should not — be privy. If releasing certain nuggets of information will mean that the sniper stays 10 steps ahead of us and more blood will be shed, I am completely cool with not knowing/releasing that info. That’s the problem with most journalists (and I say that as a magazine writer myself) … they treat all the info as fair game and report it accordingly, even if that serves to ensure that the three million residents in the metro D.C. area remain sitting ducks for that much longer.

It’s for competition and ratings, I understand that, but that’s why IKEA Boy and I went into print journalism as opposed to broadcast … we have the luxury of waiting for facts to be verified before we can run them. That can bite us in the ass sometimes, as far as the turnaround time, but after people snap off their boob tubes, they pick up a paper … to get the “full” story. And that is why the age-old question, “Will the print media become extinct?” can be answered in one little phrase … HELL no!

IKEA Boy noted that Sniper Boy has yet to strike on a Tuesday or a weekend. Hmm. That means that the odds of someone being targeted today are pretty high. Shit. He made another good point, that every time the sniper gets away, that means that at least one more person will have to die with the token single, fatal shot to the head.

THIS JUST IN

I’m watching CNN’s Headline News, and they are reporting that the sniper (the main one, I think, but there I go with my theories) is olive-skinned, like he’s possibly of a different nationality. That’s an interesting twist … and here’s to hoping that Mohammed (psycho stalker/caller) isn’t the sniper, ’cause I’d be dead! But seriously, the theory of terrorism has been kicked around for two weeks, and while I didn’t buy into it (terrorism to me would mean activities of the 9/11/01 magnitude), it may make sense. And who’s not to say that once someone is caught, the gunshots will cease? Perhaps it is a small terrorist cell.

Whatever it is, we need to give up on the Michaels Craft Store Theory … like, OMIGOD, there was a craft store in the same complex where Monday’s shooting occurred. I think it’s smart to make a mental note of that, but really, the store was not exactly close to the Home Depot in question. And maybe we need to start looking for OTHER vehicles, and this is where Moosehead needs to be releasing a tad bit more info.

Look, I am ashamed of some of the reporters’ behavior, no question about that. But the boys in blue aren’t making quick enough progress in catching this fuckhead, so it may take the public to crack the case. Thus, we NEED those digits on the license plates that some witnesses supposedly caught. We NEED to know things that we can be looking for, because we’re all out crawling along the highways anyway. Might as well utilize citizens … because we’re all watching our asses anyway.

Not only has Sniper Fuck not hit on a Tuesday or a weekend, but consider this — he hasn’t shot a motorist. There must be 60,000 white vans on the highways on any given day. They are beside us, behind us, in front of us, and coming from the opposite direction. If this asshole has no problem shooting people from behind the wheel, what makes us think that we are safe as we sit in Northern Virginia’s famous traffic jams? All the sniper would have to do is be in the far-right or far-left lane so that he could shoot someone and jump onto the shoulder to get the fuck away, if necessary. People drive like fucking freaks down here, and to see someone driving erratically, well, would be no real cause for alarm. I think that’s the next targeted group. And if so, I will not be leaving my house, oh, EVER!!!

That’s my theory, and I’m stickin’ to it!!!

I don’t want to say that it’s a GOOD thing that the most recent sniper victim was an FBI special agent, but I don’t want to imply that it’s a bad thing, either.

FBI agents have a shitty lot in life, because their own are always getting offed. But the positive side of that is that when they get pissed, things happen. This case is going to get cracked, probably sooner rather than later, because now we’ve got the Feds on the warpath. Hell, even the Pentagon may become involved.

I’m more convinced than ever that our sniper is really a merry band of snipers. There are too many police composites out, consisting of: White Chevrolet Astro-type minivan with a ladder rack on its roof; Ford Econovan with a ladder rack on its roof; white box-type truck. Etcetera etcetera. Perhaps all three are truly correct composites, but a little bit of switching is going on amongst the perpetrators. Perhaps a white- or cream-colored van is planted in the same area as a box truck, so that when the box truck gets away, the van is stopped, searched and released — hence, we think, oh well. Better luck next time. Blah.

I have SO FRIGGIN’ MUCH WORK TO DO, yet I’m meeting IKEA Boy and one of his buddies for dinner. I’m gonna be here till goddamn Doomsday, pulling my articles together. Don’t expect any masterpieces this month, kids. Expect miracles. ‘Cause I sure am!

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3. peter drucker blogs

When the hell did I write about Peter Drucker? I know his work and love it dearly, but I don’t blog about him. Sheesh.

Less than three hours ago, a woman was shot and killed at Seven Corners, not too far from here. Too close for comfort, in fact.

I’ve been glued to the TV and phone since IKEA Boy called to make sure I was tucked in snugly at home while this was happening. I was grateful for the call and quickly alerted Wobin, Chris and Leslie about it. Particularly Wobin and my grandfather are going nuts over this. If nothing else good has come of our beltway sniper, it made some old friends, including Doug and Kristin, wander out of the woodwork to send along a hello call or message. It’s amazing how tragedy gives us that little wake-up call, that it could very well be us, or our loved ones, who become next on the so-very-random hit list.

And this time, it happened in a covered parking garage. Shit. That’s the one place where we were fooling ourselves into believing that we could be safe. Now, where can we go to hide? Nowhere. Absolutely fucking nowhere. We’re all sitting ducks.

I’m smoking like a fucking chimney (I was “clean” for two months, but it was really the damn X trips that made me crave cigarettes again, even though I haven’t rolled in weeks!). My nerves are just kaput over this sniper business, though. Not to mention, at least two other shootings have occurred but were deemed unrelated or just plain inconclusive. That ain’t right. Does that mean that someone else is out there, conducting their own side spree? And all this business about searching for a white or cream-colored Chevy Astro van … is it just a decoy while the “real” killer slides away, unnoticed, while all of us who saw the composites are looking for this van, which looked suspiciously like the one parked outside my office a few days ago? When will this madness end? And will the people I care about (including myself!) live to tell this story to our children?