Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

February 27, 2014

The evolution of the workplace

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 10:06 am

I have to be careful what I say here, for obvious reasons, so you’ll have to work with me at reading between the lines, the lines that in my own self interest I cannot state outright.

In the past year at my current gig, and my current gig is Cisco kid and front man for all the big telecomms companies, and their clients, which is all the high street and industrial sites you can shake a stick it, so basically a broad and very representative cross section of the industry, so yes, in the past year at my current gig, I have seen changes.

These are not changes for the better, and even if you do not do my job, you literally cannot live without coming into contact with the sites I work at, so, you should be worried.

Edward Snowdon / NSA aside, the job at the fundamental level is the same, osiI work *at* layers 2 and 3 all day long, which of course means touching all the other layers too, to make sure what I have just done is working as expected, or has fixed the fault, etc etc etc, but 90% of the job is switches and routers.

It should not really be a surprise that this hasn’t changed appreciably in the past 12 months, because it (the internet and technology) hasn’t changed appreciably in the past 12 months.

What has changed is management and the economy, and those things affect everything else about my job.

Depending on the job and the client, there are now up to three separate entities that want to know when I arrive on site, when I start work, when I finish work, when I leave site, and to give me opening and closing ticket numbers for all these things…. a year ago there was one, our own NOC.

These things are “important” in the sense that it is this paper chase that ensures that everyone in the chain gets paid, and everyone in the chain knows what everyone else is doing.

If you are thinking we are getting to the point where 99 people in mission control in Houston give one monkey in a tinfoil suit the go ahead to undo three screws and open an access panel, you’re getting the right idea.

If you think every one of those 99 people has a better salary and a better job title than the monkey in the tinfoil suit, you’re getting the right idea.

Let me give you a small example of management and complexity.

Nowadays the essential tools are a smartphone and laptop.

The smartphone, it is used to make phone calls, it is used to send and receive emails, it is used to tether the laptop to allow transfer of files and remote sessions, and it is used to log into corporate systems like work diaries and updating job ticket info via VPN sessions….. it is also used as often as not as a camera, a gps, and a torch / magnifier.

Phone calls, they are fairly easy for phones to make, call quality can vary widely, and usually does as the network carrier tries to squeeze ever more blood out of the stone, but generally speaking you can make a call any time you like.

Emails are like sms, it’s a push service, doesn’t matter what reception is like now, sooner or later you’ll come in range of a strong enough signal and push will work.

Tethering is the next level of difficulty, maintaining a network connection to t’internet via the mobile company’s portal, but again, http is a resilient technology that harks back to the days of 9,600 baud, so mainly it works, eventually.

Then there is VPN, this is the hardest one of all, as it sits on top of all the other layers of what a mobile phone does, and has to do it without interruption for the VPN to work, think streaming video with no buffering or pausing.

Thanks to the changes in management and the 99 people in mission control waiting to give me the green light to do x, VPN is now the mission critical technology, and, you guessed it, by definition VPN is also the flakiest, and this is BEFORE the phone network itself starts suffering from congestion and other issues.

So this mission critical piece of kit was selected on the basis of it worked in the corporate HQ in London 400 metres and line of sight from three separate 4g base stations, why would it not work in rural here-be-dragonshire 300 miles away???? and it is cheap cheap cheap per month per handset, so what if the monthly data limits per handset are measly, so we have to turn off dropbox uploads via mobile data….

So the 99 people in mission control are having meetings and memos and stuff, trying to resolve their 99 separate issues and sets of requirements, which currently are not being met to five nines six sigma astroglide three bangs for your butt standards… go figure…

Along with this influx of new creative and management types in the food chain, the amount and quality of information I am given about each job, prior to arrival on site, falls from minimalist through woefully incomplete and incorrect into the territory known as sweet fuck all.

So I’ll sit outside the address I have been given, and ring the number I have been given, probably not of the remote engineer or project manager, probably just the generic NOC main switchboard number, and a job number,  and say, sweetly, “So, what the fuck am I supposed to be doing here today, apart from turning up?“

I’ll then go on-site and ask the bods there, who despite their total lack of technical knowledge, often know more than mission control, because mission control were told, but have lost the data… “no, it’s been playing up for 3 weeks, I keep telling them the same thing and they keep ignoring me“, is a common refrain that I hear.

Since mission control only ever contact me and speak to me (as opposed to talk to me, or listen to me) as an individual when there has been a fuck up and a post mortem is in the winds, it is painfully obvious that not only is my input as unwelcome as that of the aforementioned on site non technical bods, it basically doesn’t exist.

I am not in and of mission control, ergo I cannot possibly have anything useful to say.

*this* my friends is a truism I have seen repeated over and over and over again throughout my life and across every business sector and country.

I’m not saying the monkey in the tinfoil suit should be propelled from monkey status to the Oracle of Delphi at the right hand of God on the highest chair in mission control…. I’m as likely to be talking crap and missing the bigger picture as anyone in mission control.

I’m not even saying the monkey in the tinfoil suit *does* know anything they do not already know… “Well fucking DUH… did you cunts not think to go to the mobile carriers and say our first priority is stable VPN everywhere, whaddaya got? Did you cunts not think telling an engineer the scope of works prior to arrival on site was a useful idea? Do you cunts not think giving the engineer copies of the latest relevant procedure for each job as a matter of course would be preferable to the usual boilerplate disclaimer that the latest project documents could be found somewhere in the encorpera intranet wikidoc server?“

Of course they know all this shit, but it doesn’t matter which monkey in mission control you talk to, it’s never the one who made these choices, just the one who has to work with them… and so do you.

If you are a class A fucking idiot you will stick your head above the parapet and actually fucking RESPOND to one of the fucking memo’s sent out after mission control’s post mortem decides they Need Another Seven Astronauts, your job as a monkey in a tinfoil suit in orbit is to READ this shit, not comment on it.

If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail… if all you have are mangers in mission control, every problem looks like something that needs more micro-management….

If you are a class B fucking idiot, you will start writing..

09:00 arrived on site in car park
09:05 reported to agency A that I am on site
09:12 reported to agency B that I am on site
09:20 managed to enter site and get to work location
09:35 managed to get in touch with agency A and get go ahead
09:47 managed to get in touch with agency B and get go ahead
09:49 commence work
09:50 job done, problem resolved
yadda yadda yadda
10:42 finally leave site

That’s taking the piss outta mission control boy.

===============================================

So why these changes in my workplace?

Because of the economy, dummy, a company cannot grow, shrink, expand, contract, do business, not do business, take on new customers, respond to new partners and market changes, without taking on more managers.

And yes, you guessed it, a goodly proportion of these useless assholes looking to have check-boxes ass cunt and mouth filled so they can proceed with their ISO certification are fucking wimminz.

Bitch, all you do every day is type shit into engineer’s daily fucking diaries, is it really so much fucking trouble to make that information both complete and accurate, and longer than this paragraph?

So I have a fucking clue what I am supposed to be doing?

That way I can get off site quicker and chill, content with the knowledge that I removed those three fasteners and opened the access panel with as much skill and style and panache as any other monkey who ever donned a tinfoil suit, and get on with more important shit in my life, like scratching my balls….

February 26, 2014

Just a little bit..

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 4:39 pm

so, just as you cannot be “just a little bit” pregnant, nor can you be just a little bit of a thief, just a little bit disloyal, just a little bit disobedient, just a little bit dishonest.

Sure, there are degrees of all of each, a wimminz who is 6 months pregnant is more advanced than a wimminz who is 3 months pregnant, but she is not *more* pregnant, nor is the wimminz who is 3 months pregnant less pregnant, as in not pregnant.

It’s a conversation I have had over and over and over with wimminz, they will pull some shit, I will call them on it, and they will say something, and I will call them on that, and then they all say a variation of the same thing.

“Well, what am I supposed to say, what can I say that will make a difference?“

You could try the fucking truth bitch, as in the whole fucking truth and nothing but the whole fucking truth, none of this just a little bit of lies shit.

For variations of little that are as meaningful as the differences between being 3 and 6 months pregnant, compared to being not pregnant…. eg not a fucking lot.

Just a little bit corrupt, just a little bit of espionage, just a little bit of fraud, just a little bit of war in the Crimea.

Just for shits and giggles, I’m currently running a bet with someone, so I posted a genuine sounding personals ad in a Romanian website, not a dating website, just a general one, and the advert tells the truth about me.aupair_3d0078be1fb68344405fc4d253fcd7d0

His bet is I will get several answers from Romanian wimminz eager to get away to the “rich” west and have a new start.

My bet is I will get sweet fuck all, and the obvious scams are of course excluded from the definition of contact or answers or replies.

We have given it six weeks to run, so y’all may have to remind me nearer the date, as I suspect, getting no answers, I’m likely to completely forget about it.

My excuse is that if you buy me beer and then show me pikcherz like the one above saying things like, how bad can it be dude, even if you lose this is the booby prize, go on, have another beer… it weakens my resolve.

He thinks they will be clamouring to get out, not just because of the poverty, but all the shit going down next door in Ukraine.

My reasoning is under the terms of the bet, to even *see* my advert they have to have regular net access, so right away we are excluding all the dirt poor ones, and in any event, I know for a fact that the western employment agencies have been setting up camp in Romania for months, looking for cheap labour for jobs back here in the UK, which they can now work in, legally, so the visa bait is removed from the table as well as the economic one.

All that is left is a fresh start in a new and more prosperous country with a guy in his 50’s in decent shape but no illusions about the true nature of wimminz.

I’m betting on AWALT you see.

He is betting on hypergamy, I don’t believe it exists, if it does, I am for sure higher status and wealth and standard of living than your average Romanian buck, I know, I’ve met and worked with a few of them, being exploited by IBM at the time they were, guys whose whole weeks wages wouldn’t pay one night in a shared twin room in a motel here, brought here from Romania to fulfil an IBM UK contract, because they were cheaper than IBM UK staff, even including flights and motel costs.

So I know for a fact, if hypergamy exists, I am damn good bait.

Not just a little bit, either…

 

February 22, 2014

We are what we see

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 2:23 am

A very clever man and writer of science fiction, Vonnegut, said that people project their own beliefs upon the canvas, but, what he didn’t talk about, was how those beliefs got there in the first place.

I can take absolutely no credit for the fact that by the time I had hit my teens, I had seen and been immersed in more cultures than most people see in a lifetime.

This alone made things that were invisible to people who had not travelled, absolutely blatant to me.

Let’s take http://shtfschool.com/

The guys makes some very valid points, 99% of people don’t see him as dangerous, thanks to Hollywood and society.

Those who are seen by the rest of society as very dangerous, I see as merely very annoying, because the fact is it is only my reluctance to go against the mores of society, and bring shit down on my own head, that allows them the freedom to be what they are, which is basically asswipes.

There are also those who are not, per se, dangerous themselves, but who manage to manufacture all manner of trouble and strife, again, society protects them and allows them to be what they are.

The Bosnian tells a story about a building coming down around them and one guy getting trapped by the legs/feet, the Bosnian himself didn’t know what to do, another guy did, either GTFO and leave the trapped guy to die, or do what he did, step right in, hack his legs off, and drag him out.

With the greatest respect to Americans, they got this disease first, then it got exported to the rest of the west, and it is no surprise the yanks got it first, that’s where Hollyweird is.

The disease is thinking you have to be built like Dwayne Johnson to be dangerous, or covered in tats, or both, or infamous in some other way, like Ralph Moat here in the UK, or Dale Cregan.

To be sure, people like Moat and Cregan may well have a propensity for violence, but, being brutally honest here, they aren’t any fucking good at it… Harold Shipman on the other hand, now there was a dangerous fucker.

Charles Bronson (the prisoner, not the actor) is widely labelled as the most violent prisoner in Britain, really? He never killed anyone, never even put anyone in a wheelchair, but Peter Sutcliffe killed 13.

Of course, all these people got caught, which is how we know about them, and it must also be said that to be dangerous, a person does not have to physically attack you, they can quite easily see a small chain of events, watch it happen, and watch you drown, or burn, or bleed out, and do nothing, because while they may not ultimately be the *cause* of your demise, if they can watch it and do nothing to intervene, they are also quite capable of causing it.

In a different time and in a different place I had a conversation with a guy I used to hang with now and again, he used to do reps with the full Olympic set of weights, from memory 37.5 stone, or 525 lbs, so of course the assumption was he was the “bodyguard” and I was the “client” eg he was the one to tread lightly around, so there has been a couple of close calls, which invariably mean you ignored all the warnings to not be there, no matter what your reasons were or how “good” they were, there were plenty of hints if you didn’t mind looking like a chickenshit…

… so the conversation came around to shooting the shit, and I admitted (vino veritas… ) this one time this guy nearly drowned, and I was banging his wife, and I thought about just doing nothing, and then did something, and hauled him back on board, I was OK with banging her, I didn’t want to be stuck with her…. it was a mistake to be honest, because it soon swings to bullshit about if you did that to my wife, and then to recent events, and he said something about “you ever think about wasting me or letting me croak, you better thing twice..”

So, vino veritas, told him, “Oh, I already faced that dilemma.”

“Huh?” he says, “what do you mean?”

Told him, vino veritas again, “You alive ain’t ya.” and grinned.

That was the last time he ever spoke to me.. odd huh.. lol.. but the fact is that is what I had learned by the time I hit my teens, fuck Hollywood, piss someone off and they will get even by putting a knife in your kidneys, in a dark alley, while you are drunk… with no witnesses, that way even if you got crew, they don’t know who did it.

When I was a boy it was the Chinese, they would put bamboo shavings (if you ever get to see wild bamboo, grab it and try to slide you hand down it, it will hurt, thousand of tiny needles will break off in your skin) in your food, rip your stomach lining out, bleed to death internally, slow and very painful and messy, and no cure, so it was a great lesson, pour encourager les autres…

This is why I act chickenshit, I grew up knowing how easy it was for a dangerous person (nota bene, I make no distinction between males and females) fuck your shit up beyond repair, and of course it makes me all fucked up, because I can’t quite get rid of the constant amazement when I see self declared or publicly perceived hard men pull their shit, and not get wiped out…. but still, I figure better to be wrong this way, than the other way, eg being like them when / as / if the shit does hit the fan.

Like the Bosnian says, most people simply had no fucking idea how to behave, and when you encountered those few who did, they came from the most unlikely places / roles you’d expect to find such a person.

The chances are, if your date of birth is any time after 1960 and you have lived in the western world all your life, you have never actually been exposed to dangerous people, there was cancer and accidental death, apart from that you were golden and immortal.

So all you have seen, are false and misleading representations of what is dangerous… you’ve all seen the putin vs obama images… http://www.murderuk.com/serial_killers.html

Really, so that would make putin more dangerous to the average western citizen than obama?

Is it mere coinkydink that the messages, the programming, that has been shoved into every head in the western world, is so at odds with reality?

Is it pure coinkydink that everything those who fought in the last war about dangerous people and survival has been turned on its head today?

Bosnia wasn’t that fucking long ago, and apart from outliers like the Bosnian guy, there is no reporting of what really went down on the ground, despite plenty of people being there, despite plenty of journalists, all we ever saw were alleged massed graves and that dangerous and evil Slobodan Bastard, but no actual reporting.

Of course “they” learnt that lesson in Korea / Vietnam, there were reporters who did report what actually went on, and that completely undermined support for the “war” in question, so that could never be allowed to happen again.

Pure coinkydink that modern history isn’t taught any more either, just propoganda, all the recent shit in the MSM about Ukraine, not a single mention of the historical east/west ethnic split, or the current and proposed gas and oil pipelines running east to west connecting russia to china and europe… no siree.. pure coinkydink..

I was at Bovington (the UK tank museum and base) recently, and off the record there are plenty of guys there who will freely admit the one thing they do not want to oppose, and they pity any poor fucker who does, is the Russki T90 tank…  and unlike the youtube armchair army, most of these guys have seen them in the flesh and some have seen inside and ridden them.

Pure coinkydink that almost everything you see and hear in the MSM is like the magicians’ “flourish” hand, the one he wants you to watch, so you don’t see the other one palming the budgie.

Or maybe I’m just a paranoid delusional type, and you are better off ignoring me, and being afraid of teh big bad wooluf

February 21, 2014

I *know* she is on-line…

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 7:48 pm

… so why doesn’t she message me? He said to me…

Dude, WTF, there is only one possible reason, she isn’t messaging / responding to you because she does not actively want to respond to you.

Yahbut, why not?? See this conversation / thread, there is *nothing* there to suggest that, quite the opposite… He said to me..screen-shot-2013-11-04-at-3-42-55-pm

Dude, again, there is only one possible reason, there are a whole load of things she doesn’t want to say, 99% of them because in all probability is it total bullshit and she knows it, and those things will just generate further unanswerable (by her) questions, so when you have eliminated all the bullshit and lies that she could tell you, what is left, some true things, and if she doesn’t tell you true things, there are only two reasons.

What are they? he asks me

Reason one is there is no upside for her that she can see, reason two is that there is no upside for her that she can see, but a definite downside for her that she can see.

So what should I do? he asks me

Stop fucking checking whatsapp and websites and shit and looking at her “last seen online” status, and (after archiving to the cloud) delete the fucking messages, and forget it.

And buddy

Forget it means finding something else to occupy your time and mind so you do not sit there and think about her or check her status and shit, ANYTHING is better than that, shit, EVERYTHING is better than that.

If the skank has a use for you at some point in the future, she will be in touch.

February 20, 2014

The shit of it is…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 5:18 pm

… nobody gets it, or wants to, which is much the same thing.

You meet a girl, you talk, you hang out for a bit, the option of a relationshit is on the cards, you offer “W” in exchange for “X” from her.

Yeah, it’s a contract, it always is, really…

She doesn’t take you up on the offer, time passes, invariably she shits in her own nest, and sits back down at the table.

Now, things are different, I’m no longer prepared to offer “W”, now my offer is “W-Y” and frankly, her offer of “X” no longer cuts it either, now I want “X+Z”

So the deal has shifted, by Y being taken off the table by me, and Z being added to the table by her, or there is no deal.

W2 < W and X2 > X, or there is no deal.

This is completely and utterly unacceptable to her, since there is no contrition, no acceptance that she fucked up and did wrong, not concept of the idea of consequences being attached to actions and choices previously made.

The bint in the previous bible for bitchez post, she has been back in touch, in the gospel according to her, somehow I am responsible for her computer not working, and I must divulge the seekrit key or password of whatever the fuck it is so that her computer magically works again.

I blocked her from that channel (whatsapp) of comms too, after telling her in no uncertain terms that 100% responsibility for her computer not working rests with her, not me, it’s not my problem, I don’t give a fuck, and if you persist in annoying me, I’ll use the wonderful harassment laws against you.

Could it get ugly? Well, it could for her, I have every sms and emails etc ever sent between us backed up to the cloud, she still has her property, and it’s not like I charged her for the “service” she did not allow me to complete.

———————————————————————–

20 Feb 13:44 – Skank Ho: I know I’ve pissed you off…i really do need my password. I have to find a new job, have no money to fix this and it came to you without a password. I have no idea what ans means as a hint. I know you hate me but please….
20 Feb 13:47 – Skank Ho: If i had known it would of pissed you off this much i wouldn’t of done it. I am sorry. I just knew i had to find another job and panicked this was never about you.
20 Feb 14:12 – AfOR: I told you never to contact me again.

I told you not to try to delete anything, you ignored me.

I told you that you had made the job ten times as difficult, you ignored me.

I told you it wasn’t done and would take two or three more hours, you ignored me.

I told you that if you take it now it won’t work. You ignored me.

Throughout you have treated me and my expertise with utter contempt.

I blocked your phone and SMS, and now this shit on here… You’re still ignoring me and treating me with contempt.

Bed. Made. Lie
20 Feb 14:13 – Skank Ho: I wouldn’t be contacting you if it wasn’t for you putting a password on and refusing to tell me what it is.
20 Feb 14:18 – AfOR: You still don’t fucking listen.

You insisted I interrupted the setup… You insisted.

It did not fucking complete

It need s to be reinstalled from scratch, but you know everything and ignore everything I say so you already know that

I’m amazed it is even asking for a pwd and not bsod on u

Not my fucking problem
20 Feb 14:19 – Skank Ho: In that case someone’s going to take it out of my hands, i really needed to get into it and because of you i cant.
20 Feb 14:23 – AfOR: No. Because of YOU

Because you don’t fucking listen

You still aren’t fucking listening

You interrupted the setup, it didn’t fucking finish, you wouldn’t fucking wait, I’m amazed it is asking for a pwd and not showing a bsod, I don’t know the password, I didn’t put one in, that’s what happens when you don’t listen and demand it back instantly
20 Feb 14:24 – AfOR: Now
20 Feb 14:24 – AfOR: I told you never to contact me again
20 Feb 14:24 – AfOR: In your job you know the consequences, police / harassment
20 Feb 14:25 – AfOR: Your call

———————————————————————–

The “contract” in this case was yeah I’ll sort your fucking laptop, drop it off some time and I’ll do it when I can, not treating you as a paying customer because you ain’t, but because of old times sake because we used to fuck, so you can have a freebie, it’s no big deal.

And because I’d forgotten why she was a fucking ex FWB and why we don’t fuck any more, the bitch can’t leave anything alone, and when you call her on her childish behaviour, toys out of the pram, then two days later she’s come crawling around apologising.

But there is being a stuck up little cunt when I am at least getting to empty my balls regular in you, and playing the same game when I’m not, and you’re getting a freebie for old times’ sake… which is why I saw red when she insisted pwincess needed her computer back NOW, if not sooner, and told her to take it and fuck off and never contact me again.

—————————————-

So here she is, fucked up what could have been and was a very useful male contact, sounds like she’s fucked up her life generally too, dunno the details, don’t want to know, don’t care….

 

….but…

 

… what’s shining through, and the reason I expose all this naked flesh of myself, is the total and complete lack and absence of anything even remotely related to “Oh Shit….. this is going to hurt….”

This is the flipside of the burning diver and rasputin the cunt from yesterday…

“Makes them schitz” he would tell me, “They KNOW you’re talking shit, but they still act like they believe you, and they don’t really get angry at you, because they know you’re talking shit, but they still act like they believe you…“

But this time it is

The KNOW they are talking shit, but they still act like you believe them, and they do get angry at you, because they know they are talking shit, but still act like you believe them…

Of course the emotional involvement that rasputin the cunt was talking about, in this instance, comes from them, not the audience.

W2 < W and X2 > X, or there is no deal.

The skank in question will willingly draw her last breath, in the gutter, rather than accept that…

Bible for Bitchez

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 10:33 am

…so I looked at her, thinking, and here are my options..

1/ I could say things, but really, what’s the point, it isn’t going to change anything or bring me any advantage.

2/ I could tell her a pack of lies, but what’s the point, it is as likely to backfire on me as it is to offer me any temporary advantage.

3/ I could just not say anything, which is a least effort path.

… and she looked at me, frowned, turned and walked away.

For values of “advantage” that equate to access to and use of her cunt to dump my cum in.

It is also worth interjecting at this point the old truism that you are either talking, or thinking, you do not do both at the same time, so option 3 was just a continuation of the thinking state, and that is never a bad thing.

The Bible for Bitchez is that in 2014 once a man’s eves have been opened, he can never un-see that which he has seen.

As I said back in 2011 – https://wimminz.wordpress.com/2011-04/internet-dating-flakes-vampires-and-parking-spaces/ (it is really easy to just read the most recent stuff on a blog, and ignore all the original material that pre-dates your coming across it)

This is the truth, your cunt has no intrinsic value, it might have had some when your cock count was zero, but now the only question of import is are you going to give me (temporary) access to and use of it? Y/N?

Starbucks only let you sit at the table as long as you spend money, and men who have seen the light in 2014 are the same as starbucks, but the coin is access to and use of your cunt.

The paradigm has flipped, the cunt is no longer a thing of intrinsic worth, it is just a purse, and the only coin it has is access to it and use of it, and that coin is worthless unless it is being traded to the proprietor for ongoing access to one of the tables in the cafe.

I try and avoid current and personal stuff as much as I can, I try to wrote about stuff in such a way that if the subject of my writings reads this, they do not know that I am writing about them as an individual, but, I am quite happy for a thousand people to read it, and all think OMG he is talking about people just like me…

So… https://wimminz.wordpress.com/2014/02/17/oooh-afor-can-yoy-fix-my-laptop-for-me-pleeeeze/ well not a million miles away from that story, there was a similar one, been a spate of people asking me to sort their laptops lately, roughly equally split between this old laptop is playing up, and this new laptop has windows 8 which sucks, can you put 7 on it.

So as always I say to the bitch, sure, I can do this, but given you are already having major problems with it, just pull the plug and power it down, don’t you touch it, and don’t let anyone else touch it, before you give it to me, as that will make my job harder.

Of course the cunt never listens, they never do, they all think that their laptop / phone / PC is the only device on the planet full of hardcore porn selfies, explicit messages and donkey porn, and they think I have nothing better to do with my life than to trawl through all that shit looking for something to fap to, or to blackmail them with, really, if that’s your attitude to me, take your fucking device elsewhere.

So I’m handed the device and sure as fuck she’s spent hours trying to delete everything, which is fucking pointless because any data recovery app worth it’s salt would recover everything they have deleted, but it does mean I have very little choice but to…

1/ image the hard disk as is, just in case the later stages fail and worst case scenario is I just write the image back and hand it back in the exact state I got it.

2/ do a bare metal install, which also means finding all the correct hardware drivers, which can be a funky experience, for example the basic win7 install media doesn’t know anything about usb3, so an install will always fail towards the end of the install process, when it can’t find drivers for the hardware in desktop mode.

Then me being me there is all the windows updates to do, and a basic suite of apps, and especially if the thing is low powered, like an atom or basic celeron, this can takes HOURS, even though it is click click click go away and wait, click click click go away and wait.

So fucking hours later the fucking thing is installing winders updates, and she demands her machine back right now, I tell her because she ignored what I told her before, and tried to delete stuff, it ain’t done yet.

She don’t care, she has problems and she wants her laptop NOW

I tell her she ain’t fucking listening, it ain’t done yet, if I give it to her right this second it is going to be a fucking paperweight.

She don’t care, she has problems and she  wants the fucker NOW

Fine, fuck ya, unplug it and hand it to her, and by the way, fuck you, do not ask me for anything else ever again.

So I hear through the grapevine, she gets home and plugs in her laptop, and its bluescreen hell, and since it was never finished in the first place, not the sort of bluescreen you can fix from the recovery console, there are to restore points or last known good configurations or anything, there is shit still missing… a full reinstall from scratch is the only cure.

Now, where this gets funny is this, the skank has been on twice the money I am on, and has continually ignored every single last fucking thing I have tried to tell her about her useless job, what she calls work as opposed to real work, what she should be saving and living off every week, how she should be behaving and comporting herself, given that she is in fact getting paid at least 5 times what she is worth, even for a state tit mcjob, and of course ALL of this has fallen on stony ground.

So the punch line is this, pwincess has finally managed to fuck up some how, I don’t know the details and don’t care, but she has managed to fuck up somehow, and in the 24 hours from handing me the laptop to demanding it back instantly, she also went from being a dumb skank on a fat salary, to somehow losing her job.

Suddenly, she needs a job, you know, to pay the rent / car hire purchase / feed the kids / go out partying, and of course she needs / wants / must have / pwincess will NOT be denied, a functioning computer to achieve all that with.

So she came over to mine and demanded her laptop back INSTANTLY, or EVEN FUCKING SOONER, you horrible creepy luser man you, and takes it home to cwyyy and cwwy and updat her fuckbook status to UNEMPLOYED and to try and find a new job…. pops it open and

gr_msft_bsod_lg

February 19, 2014

The burning diver and the cunt, a true story.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , — wimminz @ 9:25 pm

I was at one end of the Mediterranean, sitting by the harbour with a friend having a beer and a smoke, and the water bomber planes started coming in to pick up harbour water to drop off at the bush fires up in the hills, a thing of beauty, and about half way into the water pickup the pilot goosed the big Pratt and Whitney radials ready to lift off again with a full load, glorious sound.

The guy I was with was a right cunt, when the US 6th fleet pulled in for Gulf War 1, they’d say stuff to him like, you ain’t local, and you sure aren’t American, where you from, and he’d say oh I’m off the carrier that just pulled in, and they yanks were all WTF, you ain’t on the Nimitz, and he’d be all nooo dude, I’m off the IRAQUI carrier that just pulled in, actually it was a French carrier, and he had never been within 100 yards of it, but you get the idea the kind of guy he was, he was a cunt, but fucking hilarious.

So, there are a few other people there I knew vaguely, and the cunt gives me a wink, that no-one else sees, gestures at the water bomber with his glass, and says “I hope no-one is out there this time…”

So of course, the heads of everyone else at the table turn to the cunt, “What do you mean?”

The cunts just looks at them, all surprised like, “You mean you didn’t hear about it?”

“Hear about what”

“Oh, right, well, up in the mountains where the brush fires are burning, they found this body yesterday, well, it happens, people get caught in brushfires..” people around the table nodding…”.. so when they go to actually retrieve the body, they find it is covered in all this burnt sticky stuff, like tar or rubber, but nobody is sure what it is…”

Puzzled and interested faces all around

“… so they eventually get the body back to the morgue, and they work out that this burnt stuff is a burnt wetsuit.. see, it seems the guy was minding his own business, snorkelling in the harbour, and one of the water bombers comes down, scoops him up, and drops him on the fire…”

Shocked and speechless faces all around, mouths open

“… thing, is, they are actually having problems establishing the cause of death, was he killed by the plane hitting him when being picked up, or did he drown in the tank in the plane on the way to the fire, or was it being dropped on the fire, or was he still alive when he burnt… they’re still doing tests…”

As if on cue, another water bomber swoops in

Maybe it was the wink, maybe it’s because I knew the cunt, maybe it is because I have a brain and know the water bomber has a very strong and narrow grille on the inlet tract, I know the story is fucking impossible, but, it is a good story.

It was so good I remembered it, and many years later I was at the other end of the Mediterranean, sitting by a harbour with a friend and having a smoke and a beer, and a water bomber swoops in to combat some fires up in the hills.

So I grin quietly to myself, turn to my friend and the others at the table, and channel the cunt, and tell the story.

So imagine my surprise when two days later there is an item on the national TV evening news, I don’t speaka da lingo much beyond ordering beers and smokes and please and thanks, so this guy translates for me, and tells me about this poor frogman who was swept up by the water bombers and then dropped on the fires, and no-one is sure yet exactly what killed him…

This is a story I love to tell, so I always think I have already told it two or three times, and then I check, did a quick word search on this blog, and no, because I know I love the story and love to tell it, I assume I have told it far more often than I have, and so I end up telling it not very often at all.

===========================

“Jamais vu” in other words, now, many years further on, I cannot honestly recall if the first story telling got on the telly or not, I know it did get as far as a local radio station, and I know how, “the lash” was sitting at the next table, so he aired the story on his show the next morning, fucking Californians, steal anything, bastards..lol… god I really am dating myself..

So, what actually reminded me of the cunt, and therefore the story, was this.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2562338/Chinese-woman-duped-victims-thousands-claiming-superhuman-male-police-officer-make-INVISIBLE.html

You see, the cunt, as well as saying the most “oh shit” that-has-got-to-start-a-fight things, that somehow not only never started a fight, but got him free beers, was one of those people who would go anywhere, another country even, literally at a moment’s notice, with what he had in his pockets, which was usually fuck all, and his wits alone, and come back three months later with tales to tell, and healthy, and happy….

He always maintained, and kept telling me, though I never really got it, that anyone was capable of believing any old outlandish and obviously totally bullshit tale you cared to concoct, provided you left a space, a vacuum, a hole, in the tale, into which they could put their own emotions.

“Makes them schitz” he would tell me, “They KNOW you’re talking shit, but they still act like they believe you, and they don’t really get angry at you, because they know you’re talking shit, but they still act like they believe you…”

At the time I thought he was just a crazy cunt, and I kind of forgot him for years, but I did discuss him once with a very very very Zen like character of advanced years, because I was trying to explain that I sort of always envied the cunt his total and utter lack of discretion, if I could turn it on and off at will like, and the Zen type starts giggling, and tells me I am a very fortunate man indeed, not many people alive today have met Rasputin.

Perhaps that is what I detest most about all the wimminz and niggerz and the effect they have on the world, they have almost eradicated that thing once known as character.

February 17, 2014

oooh, afor, can you fix my laptop for me pleeeeze

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 7:15 pm

So I do, and she says how much, and I say that will be a hundred quid….

Oh……

so she gets all cute and wanders into the bedroom and drops her kacks and kneels on the edge of the bed, so a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do…

so she smiles at me and flutters her eyes, and with a shit eating grin, says, how much now afor?

I tell her

hundred and ten quid.

what, you think I am paying YOU for a fuck???

trouble is, too many will think I am joking.

As divorce leaves more and more women unable to afford a home of their own

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 8:05 am

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2560828/As-divorce-leaves-women-unable-afford-home-The-lovelorn-mid-lifers-forced-live-strangers.html

February 16, 2014

Anything else you wanna fucking complain about.

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 1:05 pm

I have talked before here about the neighbours upstairs…

https://wimminz.wordpress.com/2013/11/25/people-fucking/

Well the lying skank and the new boy who she wasn’t cheating on the first guy with, who moved in within a week of the first guy getting carried off in handcuffs by da po-lice, have moved out.

About a week ago someone else moved in, no idea who, until this morning.

So I get up and chill, about 10 am I decide I should really get my shit together, do housework, do paperwork, do laundry, so I hit the icon on the desktop for silverjuke, and hit the power switch on the stereo amp instead of relying on the TV speakers.

All the volumes are set, I never touch them, loud enough to hear the music and just about drown out the traffic on the main road outside, and the trains on the track just the other side of that, but not so loud as to be annoying, or so loud I can’t have a conversation on the mobile phone in the same room as the speakers.fm_am_stereo_receiver_sa_200_661131

Sure, you’re bound to hear *something* outside / next door, but the volume slider on silverjuke is set around 10% and the volume knob on the Technics SA200L driving the Technics 5B-X1 speakers is set at around 2.5 (out of 10) and this is a 30+30 WRMS stereo amp… I state all this to make it clear I am not talking reggae specials with a 400 watt per channel mosfet driving Orange 18″ reflex bins and full range horns, which I used to run back in the day when I was married and all that shit.

So, the cunt upstairs knocks the door, I think she knocked it before, I’m not sure because I was having a shower and then in the workshop, and I think I heard something but my policy is my front door, I answer it if I feel like it, and I probably won’t feel like it unless I am expecting you to call.

So I answer the door and there she is, slim, late 30’s, European, not good looking, and says hi I am whatever her fucking name is from upstairs.

I say OK, hi.

She says can I turn my music down, as she is trying to work… I’m like, WTF, it’s not loud, well she says she can hear it and it is disturbing her and stopping her working, so can I turn it down.

I say no, it’s not loud.

She says she is being reasonable here, and trying to work with me to achieve a solution, and by the way, she doesn’t like smelling my smoke either.

I don’t believe for a second she can actually smell my tobacco smoke, it is a racing certainty that what she can smell, if anything, is the joss.

I tell her, you rented a fucking flat on a main road, next to a railway line, in a student area of town, and the fucking flat is a converted house, so the sound insulation ain’t what it should be, and I ain’t turning my fucking music down, and if she doesn’t like all of that she should have rented somewhere else.

So you ain’t going to be reasonable and turn it down, she says, I tell her no, and start to close the door in her face, this “conversation” is going nowhere, so she has the hump and turns away saying she won’t say good day, because she doesn’t wish me well.

Aye, fuck you too.

It’s just as well the roles aren’t reversed, as the stopcocks for her water supply, and gas supply, and the breaker for her electric supply are all in the cupboard in MY FUCKING FLAT, and I have access to them, and she don’t, cos you know what the bitch would do.

As it is I am sat here at 13:00, the music has been on for three hours and to be honest I’d probably have turned it off by now, but fuck it, it’s staying on till 15:30 when I go out.

We’ll see about “being fucking reasonable” when what she really means is trying to tell me how to live my life in my flat that I fucking pay for.

If the boot was on the other foot, even if the music was fucking LOUD, I wouldn’t have the fucking nerve to ask some other fucker to turn it down in the middle of the fucking day, especially as this is the first time she bothered to introduce herself, been there a fucking week and never has the courtesy to knock the door and say hi I am your new neighbour, first time she does is to fucking complain.

You know, if you don’t want neighbours, go live in the sticks with no neighbours, if you have neighbours, they are gonna roll up some nights at 3am, they are gonna have the odd party, they are gonna smoke or drink or do other things you don’t do, and that’s fucking life, deal with it.

It was plainly bloody obvious from this bitch’s face that she is used to getting her own fucking way, and it did NOT go down well when she got told where to get off, still, suits me, whereas before I might have had a bit of consideration and not played Skyrim at 2am, or turned the volume down after 10 pm if I was watching a film, now I don’t give a fuck.

Without exception, when I have “issues” like these with neighbours, it is one of two things.

1/ some entitlement bitch wimminz like her upstairs now.

2/ some niggerz who has been shamed and sent around by his owner subsequent to #1 above because I didn’t listen to the bitch and do as she commanded.

I’ve been in this place two years now, rent is paid in full automatically by standing order on the due date, and utility bills are paid in full by e-banking within 24 hours of getting them, bitch upstairs is the 4th tenant in the time I have been here, and in any event the laws governing tenants rights and such things as nuisance, enjoyment of your own home, and music etc are fairly strong here in the UK…. no loud music after 22:30 hours, but apart from that you can do pretty much anything you want to enjoy the peace of your own home, and that most certainly does not extend to telling other fuckers how to live.

As far as landlords are concerned I am an ideal tenant, bills always paid in full on the nail, and no slack periods between tenants, it’s money for old rope.

Now, I’m not saying that I am the easiest person on the planet to actually co-habit with, but even there most people don’t have an issue, but neighbours are a separate thing, and I make a fucking good neighbour, if you stick to minding your own fucking business and not mine.

I think once in my life in the UK I knocked on a neighbours door and asked them to keep it down, and that was at 2 am when the party was still in full flow, and it wasn’t the music so much as all the shouting and banging, yeah man, I’ll see what I can do, I was told, I went back in to my place and 10 seconds later I see a police car pull up, and think uh oh, someone else has complained, this could get interesting, and just after both po-lice exit the car a small wooden chair comes flying through an upstairs window and lands on the bonnet of the police car, which ended that party, and goes some way to illustrate that I was not being unreasonable, nor was I being unreasonable the next day when I told them to clean the glass from their window off the pavement, kids and dogs used that daily…. next door was a pair of fags, and they used to fight regular as clockwork every friday night, so I knew which way the party in question was going, and had no wish to see da po-lice turn up.

And it is at times like that, that I am sorely tempted to break my own rules and actually wish I could just bring myself to pick up the phone and get an ex skank in particular to come around for an evening of fucking, because the ex skank in question was a fairly good fuck, but an incredibly noisy and vocal one, and I’d quite like to treat her upstairs to the experience of that rising through the floorboards.

Or maybe get some Indians in and start brewing up industrial quantities of curry.

Nah, not going to do any of them, what actually burns my piss is sitting here knowing that the real fucking problem is none of these cunts have been forced to deal with enough men to reel their fucking necks in and mind their own business instead of everyone else’s.

If I wanted your nagging, bitch, I’d fucking marry you.

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