8/28/04 - Saturday morning. I dare not call myself a web programmer, but really, I am already done in with the updates to this very site, humble or arrogant as I can be or as the web pages can be, I find it to be a time-consuming endeavor [was that not a run-on sentence? Mrs. Johnson (seventh grade english instructor), forgive me for I have sinned] and while it is challenging and fun, I had to reintroduce myself to my family. 

Yesterday, I reintroduced myself to the public transportation system in Southern California. I have always enjoyed public transportation, as early as age 11, I was taking the bus somewhere (was a safer time too, little kids didn't disappear, unless you lived in Sun Valley, but that is another matter altogether - I understand that Mission Hills is now where this happens. I wonder if there is a connection? Hell, I am not a detective nor a web-programmer as some of you would say) and I would always take a trip when I just decided to leave the house on the weekends. I have traveled on airplanes, trains, automobiles and my favorite is the light-rail train. Los Angeles' system is really forming into a classy system - the light-rail to the Eastside and later to Santa Monica will be awesome additions to the network and will really make one that allows one to go places without a car.

I left home around 4:58 (give or take a few seconds) and I did the pedestrian thing for a block and a half. The mode of transport arrived Seven minutes later (Please, bear with me, all times are approximate) and I arrived at the Metro station at 5:14. The Blue Line (Light Rail Train) arrived at 5:22 and in turn, I transferred to the Red Line at 5:43 and arrived at Union Station at approximately 5:55. I was picked up within ten minutes and I arrived at work by 6:17. I commence my shift at 6:30. 

Oh how I love public transportation. For me it is clearly a choice, but for others, they have no choice. I drive in to work at 4:30 and arrive by 4:55. Yes, it is my choice, but nothing is wrong with that. I love my job. When I drive in, the freeway is empty. I was surprised by the amount of people using the public transportation system at five in the morning. 

I left work at 3:00, but I didn't get home until 4:46. What happened? Lots of people on the system in the afternoon and the freaking mode of transport stops at every freaking stop. Why? Why must these people use this mode while I am on it? Who are these people. Besides, don't they know who I am? Because of me, these people have the transportation system that they have! Was it not I that fought with my tax dollars to get the money for these new buses and trains? Did I not involve myself with the Gold Line project? I wrote numerous letters on behalf of the Gold Line and I feel that my efforts alone drove the Gold Line into South Pasadena and I beat back that community group: no crossings at grade. I doubt I have the acronym correct, but who cares? They lost! I won. 

I am . . . he, the one that fought for the public transportation system we now have.

"Three dollars."

"Excuse me? What was that?" I refocused my attention yesterday and realized that the bus driver was asking me for the fare for the all-day pass.

"The all-day pass is three dollars."

"Oh. Sure. I have it here somewhere. By the way, do you know who I am?"

Three dollars poorer and and great deal humbled, I rode the bus. The operator was not impressed. She must be one of the newer operators hired under the latest union-negotiated wage plan. Ingrate. 

All in all, the entire day was full of sights that I hadn't seen in this great city of Los Angeles. Yes, New York, you have the Yankees. We have us. We are the culture which you so claim to have as being only yours. No, our donation to popular culture is not a right-turn on red. It is the car culture and the belief that you can shoot a gun on New Year's Eve/New Year's Day and get away with it. In New York, cops get away with murder. In Los Angeles, Actors get away with murder. O.J., William Shatner's acting, you know what I mean. 

On my way home, I noticed that there are MANY beautiful girls that ride the light rail and the bus system. Stupid me, I have been fond of stating that "Have you noticed that you rarely see a beautiful girl at a bus stop?". Most of my friends (all two of them) and my co-workers agreed with this. Boy, are we wrong. Now that this secret is out in the open, here's the plan: (Single men or married, doesn't matter really): Just drive around, check them out, stalk them a bit and then . . . ummm. Drive around, check them out, and ummm . . . drive around and ummm. Trust me, they are in abundance and are beautiful. Had I known about this situation, I would have . . . driven around a lot more than I did when I was younger. I would have . . . Damn, I gotta go, my wife is calling me.

8/27/04 - People have actually begun to read this web site. I have chills because some are even repeat adventurers, I pity the fool that chooses not to return. 

The day was rather uneventful, all except for the fact that Smeagle is so insecure or full of itself, I don't know which - probably both, that if I utter anything, it believes that what I utter is about it. While I am the topic of conversation all day for that thing (I have been told by no less than eight other people), harbor no illusions: my life does not revolve around your short, fat, broken-english, pedophiliac life-style. Face it: Smeagle is an Olympian . . .

I also have news for you Smeagle: while you fell flat on your face with A.G., In my endeavors, I was successful. Nothing can take that away, you know it and I know it. You are a loser, you worthless, over-weight, foul-stinking excuse for a human being. Simply put: you stink. I imagine that this is the reason for the appeal that you have with Trans-nothing and MDO (Mentally Disturbed One). I can't say anything to hurt you, you do it yourself by keeping the company of those two. Nothing I can say or do will ever best the Olympians. You stole again from your workplace, your supervisor was on assignment and you left 15 minutes early - you stole again. I will tape your early exits and late entrances and I will have irrefutable proof of your slovenly lifestyle. Look at your desk, you stink, you are messy, and you are a failure at all that you do. Prove me wrong, display your improvement-needed Performance Evaluation to the world. I dare you, prove me wrong. You will at least, prove to the world that you hold something that is written in correct English.

My ulcer is making me do this.

8/26/04 - I am glad that you are doing well Little One - it had been much too long since we spoke and I hope we continue to do it much more often.

Junior, how was vacation? Have you returned yet?

Speaking of vacation, I traveled to the north today and it amazes me how I am able to report to work at 6:30 A.M. while people who live close to that distant local can not make it on time. I traveled over 89.6 miles (give or take a tenth of a mile due to the odometer not being calibrated) to be there on time. Others live less than five miles and they arrive late. Typical. 

Wonder why you never are promoted? Late for work means you are late for the promotion. Ha! There is justice after all. Let me see? Falsify maintenance sheets, stay home during the day (while on the clock), plan and connive and what does this get you? A bitch session. Free of charge. Now what? Be angry about not being promoted for a position that you believe you were the heir for? Guess what? While you remain angry, bitch about life, fight with the boss, do nothing and this gets you . . . what? A glowing grade for the next promotion? Ha, again! Live in darkness and yell at the rain. Well, look at it this way: without elements such as yourselves, we wouldn't have anything to laugh at. 

I returned to my usual patrol area and I receive word from Big Puff that Spoiled Meat (All Gone - as in nothing left, as in used, as in no longer desirable - not that it ever was) [Yes, this is in code for if I were to speak in clear, plain language, the entities that are being discussed here might get mad] was at my business place yesterday. Big Puff tells me that All Gone is looking to file lawsuits against those  that are trying to fire this person (used very loosely here) and that I should not worry for I was not on the hit list. 

Hit list? Let's discuss this one, shall we? Thief. Steals. Abuses position for personal gain, lies, cheats and threatens all in the name of said personal gain. Wow, now this individual wonders why they are enduring the ridicule of everyone else. The only "friends" that Spoiled Meat has are the other malcontents in my business place. Let see, who could that be? One is Smeagle. Another is Trans-nothing. Yet another is No Diet. You know, we have another winner here! We have another member of the Olympian Clique! Intone music for the Olympic fanfare, please . . .

8/24/04 - I thought the movie was good, but clearly, the star was the horse. If I had a vote, thank goodness I don't, Hidalgo would be my nominee for best actor, or at least, best supporting actor. 

Today was a rough day. The agony continues. Stop the music. I know, none is playing, but I still love issuing orders. Along those lines, this is my blog, I will decide what to waste my time on. Speaking of wasting time, my misery at work is magnified when I must deal with individuals that never show up on time, do nothing and go home early. Civil Service protection is scary - welfare recipients lose their benefits after two years and these sewer-dwellers steal from our local government and complain about their lot in life and never lose their employment. "If you don't like your employment, shut up and get a real job, your job skills are in demand at McDonald's." I love my job, I really do.

Sorry, McDonald's, I know you hire kids that are hungry and starving to make a living and at least, are human beings. My co-workers (work is a relative unknown to these bottom-feeders) could not cut it in the real world because they don't pay you for being lazy, stupid, and late.

Language. Is it too much to ask that if you intend to work and communicate with me, that you, at least, speak the language?

My first shot will be at Smeagle, aka bobble head, aka Post Mortem. This carbon-based life form is short, fat, dumb, a thief, a whiner (the only job skill that I doubt can be surpassed by anyone - even this blog), sweats like a pig and smells like one. It is part of an eclectic grouping that I refer to as the Olympians - it, the mentally disturbed one, and trans-nothing. This is a clique that is one that no one desires invitation too. No Special Olympic reference insults hurled here [those kids are jewels that really try at something]: these Olympians mentioned previously only try to add weight on their self-driven, see-food diets. I will admit that they do stimulate the local economy by frequenting the local eateries. 

I remember the time I played the Olympic fanfare for them while they were out on the street and everyone saw them and died of laughter - Kodak, eat your heart out because it was live! Oh, to have had a camera with their stupid reactions on film for POSTERITIES sake.

Yes, my ulcer made me do this - but God made them. I dare someone to tell me that he doesn't have a sense of humor . . . I dare you. 

If you believe this, I have beach-front property on Kronos to sell you, real cheap too.

8/23/04 - Dreem: I am not responsible for the ambient noise level - the neighbors were having a party, a very loud party.

I have discovered, much to my dismay, that  ulcers are painful. I didn't have a word for the agony (other than agony - intone the violins, please) until I discovered the truth. Such is life. No more jalapenos?

Little one: How is the web site? Your opinion means a great deal to me.

Junior: How is Hawaii during a typhoon/hurricane watch? National Lampoons Vacation, Part V?

Since I am a working stiff, I report in today, might as well take notes. Sitcoms have nothing on my worksite.

8/22/04 - Why create this web site? This is actually my second web site, but my first was a business site run by QuickBooks Site Solutions (no link offered because they don't offer this service at this time). I want to write and write and having to wait for other people to make decisions on my material is frustrating. One day, in August, I said "enough is enough" and today, we see this web site today.

I spend a great deal of time online and this site represents all of that time spent online! I have no desire to live online, but while I am here, the fruit of this endeavor will find relief here.

At Sportsline.com, I am in first place with my team Blockhead Bombers with 58.0 points and I have been fighting it out with The Mick 7 with 57.5 points. Yes, the league is called Yankees Fans OutWest. We are Yankee fans. Why waste our time being fans of anything else (star trek is different)?

Attention to details. I can not compete with the big web sites and besides, they are fighting out for the top headline stuff anyway. This web site will cover everything else simply because the universe is big and has room for us all. 

Roger's Blog

Home