[143] Screed City

[143]

05/25/2022 Wednesday. Cushioned Stool. Room 316. Room Two Suites. Albany Airport, Albany, New York.

Racism met anti-racism at work today. I got the full scoop. They guy that had the Confederate flag had it as a sticker on the rear windshield of his probably Ford F 250 with or without truck nuts. He parked in the school parking lot. Somebody took a photo. Put it on Facebook. The faculty caught wind and notified the Super Intendant. She told the GC at the job site to tell the guy to not park in the parking lot. He moved his truck to the street in front of the school. By the entrance where I am working. He was told to either move his truck or take the sticker off. In protest he tore the sticker off. It wasn't enough. Unknown why that wasn't enough. I mean, aside from being actively racist on the job site. He was booted from the job site. Punished by having to go work at some other racist job site. But because it ended up on Facebook the media caught wind of it and they published some reporting about it. So then all the mucky-mucks had to have a meeting about professionalism and inclusion on the work site. Which led the Unions to get involved. Which, when they realized a four alarm shit storm was brewing they decided it was time to be proactive. Which came all the way down the pike to today.

I got to work at around 645a to make sure I could get into the job with the new badges and stuff. Sally was already parked outside. We said hello. She told me about going to Florida and stuff. I handed her the badge and said it was because the thing that happened. She hadn't heard about it. We went inside no problem. Nobody checking badges. We kind of just stood around talking on the apron. Eventually the guy they call Hitler showed up. He is the guy that manages the job site. Safety and stuff. Checks for your high vis. Or hard hats. Harnesses. That is why they call him Hitler. Because he is making sure the job site is safe. I mean, he has a personality like a wet brick, but he is no Nazi. He is just doing his job and he takes it seriously. I mean, these union boobs are children. Butwhatever. When he saw me he said "What are you doing here?" I thought he was having a jibe. I said:

"Who me? I don't know what I am doing here, but Sally here is nothing but trouble." He just stared at me. He said:

"Seriously. What are you doing here."

"Oh, we are here to install the electrics."

"Okay. There is a stop work order at noon, just so you know. The stage has to be cleared so we can bring chairs in." Sally was confused. She said:

"What does that mean?" I said:

"Lunch." The Hitler guy said:

"There will be lunch." Then he walked away.

We were both a little confused. I was mostly confused that the electric guys weren't around. I went outside and called the Big Boss. He said:

"Hey Joe, what's up?"

"Um, I am on site and the electric guys aren't around. Do I need to go ask someone about it?"

"No, they will be around. If they don't show up go to the offices and ask. I'll send an email."

"Okay, thanks."

I went back inside and told Sally I was going to back the van up. She said she would wait for me. I drove the van around and was about to back in when some truck burned by me and backed in like a vamp. I sat in the van watching. He yelled down "I just got six buckets. It'll only take sec!" I didn't care. It was a little rude that he cut in front of me, butwhatever, I was in no rush. He unloaded. Yelled down that he was sorry and thanks! I said no problem. I backed in. Sally directed me. We unloaded the van. The stage weights and the track and whatever else. I left the job box inside the van. We only needed thimbles and the laser and some copper sleeves. Maybe a marker. Some e-tape. I parked the van again.

The electricians finally showed up. It was a gnarly word salad of confusion as to what was happening. They didn't know we were coming. At first I thought they were just another trade making small talk. But when we figured out that we were working together things started to straighten out. I told them about the raceways. They already had met with the Big Boss last week, so they kind of knew what was up. I told them the spec of our work. What needed to happen before we could install the things. The slowly went to work figuring out what they needed to do. Shit! I forget to tell the Big Boss about this next thing. Tomorrow. Always tomorrow.

Sally and I started working on the first line set. By Sally and I, I mean, I started working on the first line set and Sally asked a bunch of useless questions that I would answer, that went in one ear and out the other. Then I would say "Do you understand?" And she would say "I will when you do it." Fucking Sally. She was in good spirits and brought me some banana bread. The shoes of the arbor needed replacing. I took the old ones off and started to put the new ones on. They did not fit. They were not the things that I asked for. I almost just put the shit back in the box and said "Welp, that does it for that." But the truss hanging from the second line set needed to come down before we could put the raceways on, so I tried again. I tried a few different things. Thought about stuff. Took some things apart. But I managed to Frankenstein two new shoes with all the hardware we had. I mean, it wasn't perfect and there were a couple of set screws that got left out of the mix, but the four inch arbor now has an eight inch shoe. I do believe that that will need to be replaced with the right hardware in the future, but what I had made was not unsafe and it worked out really well in the end. It allowed us to get the arbor up to the caution rail, formally the crash rail. But as I was making this happen I had to go up to the load bridge and pull all the cable down to the arbor from the head block. Which was nice. It meant I could connect it on the deck and it saved me a trip up the ship's ladder. I mean, we yanked the guy up a bit. I tied the op line to the bottom. Then we yanked it to the caution rail. Formally the crash rail. Fucking PC dipshits. See how far this Woke mind virus has gotten? I can't even call a crash rail a crash rail anymore. For shame!

I mean, I set the laser up. We marked the wire rope. I went around and cut the weights off of the bottom of the stuff so I could make the terminations. Then we connected the turnbuckles to the terminated eyes. By we, I mean me. Then we took the arbor out and untied it from the second line set.

Now this is where things got really very fun. I had Sally with me when I was doing this. I said "Hold the fuck onto this rope. Leave it locked. It is going to be extremely arbor heavy. Do you understand?" She didn't give me her normal "I'll understand when I see you do it," routine. So she at least understood part of it. That I was dead serious at least. I mean, this is when having someone else there that knew what the fuck was going on would have really been helpful, because things were fine when I released the truss. It took weight and nothing slid. I ran over to Sally to help her pull the arbor up to position. I grabbed the rope. Saying "Okay, now let that lever loose, and you and I are going to pull up, it is going to be very heavy, but we just need to get it up a few feet and I can go take the weight off. Okay?" She understood. Luckily one of the electricians was standing next to us, because when she pulled the lever back I just flew off the ground. Like half my body length. I managed to hook the top of my feet under the op rail. The only thing keeping the arbor from crashing twenty feet to the deck. Sally yelled "What should we do?!" I yelled "Lock the rail!" The electrician ran over and grabbed the rope as well. Then with three of us there. Me standing on top of the lock rail. I said "Okay, ready? Sally you are going to unlock that and we are going to pull this down. Okay?" The both said okay. She unlocked the lever. We pulled it down. I yelled "Lock it!" I said "Keep your fucking hands on that thing I am going to go take the weight off." I was up the ships ladder in mere seconds. I unloaded eight full weights from the arbor. I mean, no fucking wonder I nearly rode up to the loading bridge on a rope elevator. That's like what? 320 lbs? I weigh just under 200 lbs these days. And, I mean, I guess that goes to show that Sally was not, in fact, helping me pull that fucking rope. I mean, shit. It was lucky as fucking hell that the thing didn't come crashing down. I don't know why I didn't check the weight before I did this. I guess I was just going on memory. And by memory we had only put six full blocks of weight in the arbor. Which was a lot, but 240 lbs is a lot less than 320 lbs, right? I mean, it was kind of like Moby Dick all over again. A New England sleigh ride. But with rope and arbors and modern day pirates. Had my feet not caught, I don't know what I would have done. I may have just rode the thing up to the top and kind of slid back down like I had just climbed a rope in gym class. I mean, I had no actual fear at the moment. The arbor was moving very slowly. Had I let go it would have been tragic. Had I stayed holding on it would have been magical. Even legendary. The time I road a rope elevator to the load bridge. I mean, shit, these are the times that I was very glad I was not wearing gloves. Had I been wearing gloves. I mean, I probably would have ended up in the hospital with third degree burns. Because I was not going to let that thing go. I mean, like Scott says, I am not afraid of things because I have courage, I just don't have any sense TO be afraid of things. And he is right. I have known this a long time. I think I would be great in a foxhole. Or even as a ambulance driver. Sometimes this shit doesn't phase me. I mean, being lost on the Scenic Route while being late to work will send me into a panic that I will never recover from, but staying safe in a suddenly very dangerous scenario, not so much.

I mean, after that we were dead in the water. The electricians were working out the raceways. Me and Sally zip tied and trimmed all the stuff. Taped it down real good. I didn't have the hardware for the upstage traveler so that was moot. There really was nothing to do. I mean, we did have the placard stuff to do. Which, of course the placards they sent were the wrong size and the hardware was not black, but silver, oh I said that in reverse, it was not silver but black and the bolts were silver. I said fuck it. We cut the placards to size and installed the clips and I just spray painted them black. Tim Murphy style. I mean, my patience for this job is so slim that I could use it pick a lock. I could use it to sew buttons. I could use it to, I don't know, lance a boil. Pick my teeth. Give stiches. I mean, when I say my patience was slim, I mean that. I just did not care. I do not care. We are so close to the end on this job. After tomorrow though, we still have two more huge jobs to do. Hang the acoustic shells and hang the curtains. Like, ugh.

After a while the electricians had the first raceway out and were connecting it to itself. The thing was 42 feet long and was basically an accordion. They bit more off than they could chew, as the bridesmaids say. I tried to help them out. And was kind of able to. But after that kind of ended in a disaster I decided to get directly involved with their process. They didn't mind. I wasn't taking work away from them. I was, in fact, making their lives easier. So that was nice. We worked together. The raceway got built. Then there was the drilling of holes for the hangers. I mean, this sucked. A floating truss. 1/4 inch steel webbing. We marked it and drilled pilot holes. Then we had to bore them out to 5/16 inch. I mean, in the end it took kind of a while, but we learned some things along the way. And when the thing was ready to be hung they called their other worker buddy’s to come help. Which, I mean, fuck, it was hilarious. There was 12 of them. Twelve guys on a 42 foot raceway that weighed maybe 150 lbs. I mean, normally we have four guys doing this with everyone holding a pocketful of hardware. Instead it was like that old adage of "Many hands make light work." Or "Stiff as a board, light as a feather." Or something. I mean, I have never installed one of these things with such ease. And in the end, it was nice. Everyone ditched afterward and there was nothing to really do. I went up and put the electric in weight. From the load bridge. Had Sally test it. It was good. Then I went back down and remembered we needed to get the first line set up. So I found some rope so I could pull the four inch stage weights up to the loading bridge. I mean, usually there is a nice rope hanging in the van, or, if Scott is there, there is about four ropes to use, but not this time. The only rope I could find was op line for a travelling track. I mean, I showed Sally how to tie the stage weights to the rope so they wouldn't fall out when I was hauling them up. This just confused her. But in the end, she was able to do something that wasn't entirely unsafe. Although, when I was pulling the things up the weight was making me very nervous. I was kind of convinced that the rope would break. So I only pulled up enough weight to put the arbor at pipe weight. Which was six AND A HALF bricks. Which, fuck, I forgot to get another half-brick. I mean, spoiler alert, I had to go back to the shop after work.

So, I mean, after that, we were truly dead in the water. They had started loading in chairs and tables and sandwiches and a screen and some sound equipment. I mean, this lunch time anti-racist get together was going to be a tasty affair. There were cookies and pastas. Chips. Drinks. The mucky muck started to stroll in. Not wearing hard hats. Clean clothes. Suits even. Me and Sally sat on top of the other raceways putting hardware together. Bolt, washer, lock washer, nut. Bolt, washer, lock washer, nut. Eventually they took the lids off of the sandwiches. I mean, they had set up ten tables in the area where there would be seating when the job was done. The audience seating. I mean, I forgot to mention all the dust and shit that had accumulated since the last time we were here. And I don't really have much to say about it, but it was a lot. And it was one of those dumb things that because we were working on the stage and around the area that the thing was going to be, suddenly it was our fault. Like we had made huge mess and just never cleaned it up. But fuck you. The electricians don't make dust, the riggers, meaning us, we don't make dust. I mean, maybe when we drop anchor, but we use vacuums you ignorant assholes. Look around. What do you see? You don't know what is causing dust and what is not causing dust? And you are the ones in charge? The disconnect sometimes. It is astounding. Either way, luckily nobody accosted me about it. Because I would have told them to get fucked. Yeah, this job site is a dusty fucking hazard. Somebody needs to do something about it. And it sure the shit aint me. I am not causing the dust. Maybe, just maybe buy some sweeping compound, you goons. That would be a start. And have you ever heard of a site steward? They are pretty fucking common. It is a pretty fucking simple job that almost every job site has. They go around and make things like dangerous dust-ball bullshit kind of go away. I mean, maybe don't worry about your bottom line for one god damn second and actually understand what happens at these work places when you are not there. Pulling in like some fucking Kernal during the invasion of Ho Chi Min and wondering how the fuck shit got this fucked up. I mean, really, it really twerks my Cyrus.

I mean, eventually we all started standing in line. Getting sandies. Cookies. Chips. I got two halves of a roast beefer. A thing of tortellini and other things. Some different chips. I mean, two kinds. Puffed cheese and onion and sour cream. A peanut butter cookie. A blue Gatorade. Sally found us a nice seat "In the shade." Which was under the balcony. The shade was from the very bright fluorescent lights. I was starving. On these jobs I have a very good routine. I never eat breakfast, so I am starving by the time lunch comes around. And then I allow myself to eat a full lunch. Which I don't usually do. Then I either don't eat dinner, or I eat a bean burrito after I write. I mean, probably about a 1,000 calorie day. Which, combined with all the physical work, I do end up taking off the lbs and feel pretty good in my body. I mean, I did kind of get too much stuff this time. But there was just so much good stuff to get! Like a barbeque. I wanted to try everything. I mean, the sandwiches were not so hot. And the chips were not good ones. The Gatorade seemed excessive. But the tortellini was surprisingly delicious and the peanut butter cookie was top notch. Hats off!

I mean, we all filed in. The entire job site. There were probably 75-100 of us. Almost entirely White. Almost entirely male. I mean, aside from one guy that was, how do you say, I mean, to be gentle here because this is sensitive race stuff, I guess, I mean, I don't know who is who, but there was one guy that if someone asked you "Is that person Black?" you would say "Yes." And another guy that looked like that if someone asked you "Is that person Black?" you would say "Um, I don't know. Is this a trick question?" I mean, of the say, 86 people there, there were 81 White dudes, three females, on of which was Black, and two Black dudes. I mean, I really hope that is not offensive, because I am not trying to make a point about anything. All I am saying is that we were a very specifically and very deliberate group of White dudes. I mean, at one point Sally, who was behind me when the thing started, when we were all looking at the guy talking on the microphone. She leaned over my shoulder and whispered into my ear "Aside from the girl from Turner, I am the only other woman in this place." I cocked my head back and whispered "Yeah, it is a problem." It wasn't true though. There was a third female. The Super Intendant was out of Sally's line of vision. She was a woman. She was also Black. She was also the only person in the entire room of people that was wearing a mask. Myself included.

The thing started with the guy saying that we were going to watch a video. Then there would be some talking. I don't know who the guy was. He didn't introduce himself. Then the woman from Turner spoke up. She said "I don't need to use the microphone because I have a loud voice. I just want you guys to know that there is no tolerance for this kind of thing on the work site. We are professionals here." I mean, she said a few more things, but that was the gist of it. It was kind of very powerful. I mean, I had no connection to this happening, but I suddenly felt like shit was serious now. The way that Sally understood about the rope running away. Whether or not I understood was irrelevant. I just needed to stay alert.

They played the video. It was something else. It had drawings. Like cartoons. But the cartoons were racist things. Like the truck with a Confederate flag on the back windshield. A Ford F250. Without truck nuts. And graffiti of a heart. And pictures of men laughing at women. And then pictures of people being upset. Like holding their head in their hands and people saying to them "Are you alright?" And then the FIVE D's of inclusion. De-escalate, De-fuse, Distract, Discourage, and Deny? I can't remember the last one. It wasn't deny. What is the opposite of deny? Divulge? I think it was divulge. Like you were supposed to tell on people. I mean, I looked around. Most people were actually watching this thing. Like in earnest. There were a few White-Supremists that thought it was a joke. Specifically these two to my right. But in the end they gave up on their protest and joined everyone else. Somebody must have given them a look that I didn't see. I mean, when the thing was over they gave a couple more speeches. Saying there was Zero Tolerance of racism on the job site. Zero Tolerance. I mean, for the first time in my life I agreed with a Zero Tolerance policy. I mean, they even went far enough to say "Look, you can do whatever the hell you want to do at home, you just can't bring it to the work site." Meaning, "We all know you are bunch of racist assholes, just please, we are begging you, don't do it at work! It makes us look really bad." And the most troubling and most unfortunate thing that happened, the Super Intendant, who, I mentioned was the only Black woman there, who was the only one wearing a mask, she came up to the microphone and said "I would just like to thank you for all the work you are doing for us here." I mean, fucking hell. I don't know how she didn't pull that mask down and start screaming at this KKK rally, but she held it together. I mean, she has more courage than me. I mean, see before about me and courage, but still, I don't know if this was a good thing or an absolutely, terrible, state of the world thing, but my heart broke for her. The fucking politics of it all. Being a woman in the work place, combined with being a Black woman in the work place, combined with having to work with an unabashed racist and mysogynistic work place. I mean, how the fuck do you do that? But she did it. And then the thing was over.

Everyone went back to work. They told us that we could takes sandwiches home if we wanted. There were plenty left. There were shirts by the door if anyone wanted them. I got one. It says "Turner" on the front. And Diversity, Equity & Inclusion [All In Together] on the back. Not, All in this together, just All in together. Whatever the hell that means. I mean, the thing was something else. I put my trash in the trash can. Put my hard hat back on. Went back to the stage to do more work.

Sadly that meeting did not end the racism on site. A little while later something happened that I didn't recognize at the time as racist but has since then stayed with me. Sally and the main electrician guy were talking about something, something that turns out in retrospect was that absolutely, I don't even have the words, school shooting in Texas, which I am sure you know the details, so I won't describe it again, I can't even read the newspapers right now, it is Sandy Hook all over again. But Sally said "You know, I learned the other day there are 30 shooting deaths in Chicago every single day. 30! Can you imagine?" At the time I just thought she was talking about, I don't know, how crime is bad sometimes. But Nooooo! She was spewing exactly the racist Right's talking points that her personal media was telling her to spew. That gun crime isn't that bad because all the Black people in Chicago kill each other like a war zone every single day. And they have gun laws there! You see that? It has nothing to do with what we are doing. Those liberal dipshits won't even talk about that because of their woke mind virus. Black on Black crime is the real issue. And the immigrants at the border. And, I don't know, Trans!

I mean, I know this is a slippery area, where politics is supposedly a thing. But hear me out, this is not politics because allow me to move forward with this thinking, that you think is just people expressing their frustration with the world. The both sides bullshit argument.

We spent the rest of the day drilling holes in the truss webbing. Getting ready to hang the raceways. Sally needed to be done by 3p because she had a tooth the needed to be pulled: "My entire life I have never had a cavity, and then blam! I have this bad tooth needs to come out." I said goodbye to the electricians. We would hang the raceways first thing tomorrow. I grabbed my personals. Having put two sandwich halves in my Hannaford's shopping bag. Wrapped in napkins. Ham and cheese. I would eat them coming back from the shop. I needed to go get the hanging hardware for the rear traveler. That I couldn't find when I went to the shop yesterday. That the Big Boss was convinced was somewhere in the shop. That Debbie ended up finding. I mean, I took all of my stuff and followed Sally out the door. I was about to say goodbye but she went into the Honey Pot. I mean, I should have just yelled at her through the door, she would have heard me. But that seemed rude. I waited. And waited. And waited. Fucking Sally was taking a shit. The very end of the day, and she was hanging out in the Honey Pot letting a good long one ride the rails. I mean, I felt like a boob just standing there, but what could I do now? I had to wait. Eventually she came out and I said "Okay, Sally, see you in the morning." Then she said "Alright, Joe-John, John-Joe, I need to get my stuff."

I mean, I drove to the shop. Up the interstate. It was long, and annoying, and boring. I got to the shop. Went inside. Debbie was there. In the offices. She handed me some laminated badges she made. Very proud of herself. I said thanks. Started to tell her about the new details about the incident at the job site. About how it happened. About what exactly happened. And then I said, not really thinking, but I said it because I Debbie strikes me as a reasonable human being. I said:

"Yeah, this is just how it is now, with these guys. It isn't good." I may or may not have said MAGA idiots. I mean, I did, but I really didn't think she swung that way. And she said:

"I have a question though. My husband, he was just wondering if it was a union thing or a race thing. I mean, I lean that way and I don't feel like I think about this stuff like you are saying."

"Oh, no, it was very much a race thing."

"But how? I mean aside from the flag thing, I just don't get it." I had no response. "I mean, I understand there was slavery, and my husband is an ex-union guy, but there were White slaves too."

At that point I politely stepped back from the conversation. This was the biggest red flag, bullshit trap that the Right just love to spring on you. I mean, is it not true that White people have been enslaved in the history of human kind? If that is true, doesn't that mean that we have all been oppressed? And therefore, the Black people in America should have no grievance to stand on, in fact, doesn't that mean the we are all just a product of the past and therefore racism is dead? And did we not elect a Black man for president? QED.

I couldn't believe my ears. She was pulling the same shit Jayboo pulls. The "How is that racism?" card. The as long as nobody is yelling the N-word on the street corner, the Junior Mint, the best way to not be racist is to not be racist, the Black people have it better now than at any time in the last hundreds years, so how can I be racist tropes that are the bedrock of Right wing bullshit. I mean, it made me sad. It reminded me of my stand-up routine from when the Orange Douche was president. When he kept saying "We have nearly full Black employment. More Blacks are working now than ever." And my routine went like this:

"When I hear the Orange Douche talk about how there is nearly one hundred percent Black employment, that in the history of America Blacks have never been this employed. I mean, no offense, I am not Black, but if I was Black and I heard that, I would be nervous as fuck. The last time there was full Black employment it was illegal to not have a job if you had black skin. In fact if you decided to quit your job in those days they would hunt you down and lynch you, as a warning to the other Black people."

I mean, I don't know if that is an offensive joke. It probably is. I know that me, a White dude, should not be telling it. But I mean, this idea that because at one point in the history of human kind White people were enslaved and therefore the entire history of America is just a, "Well, we had it bad too at one point, pull yourself up by your boot-straps like everyone else because racism can't actually be proven if you adjust for all the racism. I mean, if you just ignore all the numbers and everything you see and hear and what happens in your own head, then we are all on equal footing, right? I mean, Obama, right?"

Yeah, Obama made so many fucking people furious that we ended up with the most racist motherfucker since, I don't know, Reagan? Obama was a milquetoast Republican. Still is! I mean, I got the two boxes of hardware from the shop. Debbie still wanted to talk about the job site. She would not take any of my descriptions at face value. She really, really wanted me to say that some dude was just standing there yelling the N-word. That would have been the only way she would believe me. I mean, as I was walking out the door the only words, and they were very literal, but I didn't say them, but the only words going through my mind were:

"Yeah, come to the job site and see it for yourself. Because it is fucked up."

Butwhatever. Just like Jayboo she would see people just going about their business, not saying the N-word and everything would be just fine because their politics match up. I mean, "I lean that way, and I don't do those things." How is that an argument? I agree with 90% of the policies these people espouse, but I don't want to hang Mike Pence, therefore, Antifa! I am sorry. This is actual politics and it is not right. The Left wants to give you health care and make sure the poor single moms can feed their babies while the Right is trying to overthrow the government and force women to have babies and jail them if they don't and make Gays illegal, and force all of America to forget that we have a history, but that is okay because, tax cuts for the ultra-rich? Mexicans?

I mean, maybe Jayboo and Debbie are not there yet. They do seem on the fence about things. And I don't fucking care. It used to be these things were whatever. The Right wanted to do something stupid that was antithetical to reality, but it didn't matter. Government is bullshit anyway. It is all just a Ponzi scheme for the people in power. But when I hear that this absolute bullshit has filtered its way down into our normal discourse. I mean, I went from having a hilarious time at the anti-racist race rally that was absolutely insane to instead of finding someone that could see how absurd shit had gotten, to them then, instead, defending the positions of the racists! Am I wrong? Am I missing something? Have I really gone too far to the Left that when I hang out on a racist job site all day that the Status Quo is now a "Boys will be boys." Or as Debbie said "An Old Boys Club." I mean, she said those fucking words "An Old Boys Club." Meaning, in her mind, these were not people of her ilk. That the Unions had just become some far right extremist group. Something she could just wipe her hands of because, I don't know, there are other unions in Albany that are okay? Not understanding that the entire thing is endemic. That no matter how many examples I gave, about people getting in fights or Harold quitting because of racism, just because nobody was burning a fucking cross on the football field at Albany High School, racism doesn't exist!

I mean, fuck. She blew my mind. We are fucked. If after all of this. After weeks in the papers. That she reads. After multiple meetings and freak-outs from the top down. Culminating with a fucking anti-racist barbeque on the fucking job site with 86 employees getting paid free money just to watch an anti-racist cartoon, and she still doesn't believe this shit is real? I mean, We Are Fucked. The heads are so far up the ostrich's ass that we won't see daylight until we poke our head out on Bikini Atol. And then, when we are blinking sand from our eyes, the military will explode a fucking atom bomb! Nothing to see here, folks.

Whatever. The job will be done tomorrow and I won't have to think about this shit for another couple weeks. Fuck, it's late. I got work tomorrow.