The Steampunk World
You might not have noticed it, but I've added some pictures a few posts back to my tale of my visit to Oxford. I'm a terrible, terrible photographer, though, so excuse the quality.
This weekend, Cabuto was all about having a Brownies con la mota party. Piloto said he would cook dinner. E-D was even going to eat them, and she doesn't smoke. All they needed was a place to have it, since the last time they made Brownies con la mota at home, Cabuto's aunt ate some. ¡Sorpresa, Tia!
Well, I knew it was bad news when they said they'd come over at 10pm Friday night. That translates to 1AM Mexican time! Sure enough, by 10, Tejas hadn't shown up to pick them up, Piloto was asleep, and Guadalupe and Singular were heading to bed. I went to go get E-D and Cabuto, and while I was there, Piloto jumped out of bed to show me that he had rigged his guitar effects pedal to run his tattoo gun. I wonder if he can tattoo reverb now.
[aside: Piloto tattooed in Mexico City for four years. He just bought a gun here. I'm waiting to see his work on Tejas before I let him stick me with that thing. I'm almost hoping he's bad- having a friend who will tattoo at cost can be very dangerous to the whiteness of one's skin.]
Well, we finally made it back to my place by 11. The brownies took an hour to cook, and then another hour to take effect. Lupe and Singular were long gone. They were mighty tasty, I love the taste of la mota, and they were quite powerful as well. We ended up staying up until five or so, jibber-jabberin' like monkeys, higher than a giraffe's ass.
Coming back into work on Monday, we were all pleased (sarcasm here) to discover that an act of double-idiocy had allowed a horrible, racist email to be sent to the entire company. First the HR lady sent out a list of job postings to everyone. Standard practice, right? So then some racist motherraper made up a fake resume full of ethnic stereotypes, you can guess the content, it wasn't very imaginative. They sent it to a field manager, who didn't even look at it, but rather replied to the job posting with the resume- and of course, since the email was sent to everyone, the reply was sent to everyone. So now this nasty piece of hate-literature gets sent to every employee. The IT dept finally, FINALLY, set the email system so that replies to a group email will go by default to the sender, not to the whole group. I've bitched about that here before. Jeez. Does it take a federal hate crime just to keep my mailbox from being filled with "Who took my lunch from the seventh floor fridge" emails about crap that has nothing to do with me? Of course, the plan isn't foolproof. Never underestimate the ingenuity of fools, you know.
This weekend, Cabuto was all about having a Brownies con la mota party. Piloto said he would cook dinner. E-D was even going to eat them, and she doesn't smoke. All they needed was a place to have it, since the last time they made Brownies con la mota at home, Cabuto's aunt ate some. ¡Sorpresa, Tia!
Well, I knew it was bad news when they said they'd come over at 10pm Friday night. That translates to 1AM Mexican time! Sure enough, by 10, Tejas hadn't shown up to pick them up, Piloto was asleep, and Guadalupe and Singular were heading to bed. I went to go get E-D and Cabuto, and while I was there, Piloto jumped out of bed to show me that he had rigged his guitar effects pedal to run his tattoo gun. I wonder if he can tattoo reverb now.
[aside: Piloto tattooed in Mexico City for four years. He just bought a gun here. I'm waiting to see his work on Tejas before I let him stick me with that thing. I'm almost hoping he's bad- having a friend who will tattoo at cost can be very dangerous to the whiteness of one's skin.]
Well, we finally made it back to my place by 11. The brownies took an hour to cook, and then another hour to take effect. Lupe and Singular were long gone. They were mighty tasty, I love the taste of la mota, and they were quite powerful as well. We ended up staying up until five or so, jibber-jabberin' like monkeys, higher than a giraffe's ass.
Coming back into work on Monday, we were all pleased (sarcasm here) to discover that an act of double-idiocy had allowed a horrible, racist email to be sent to the entire company. First the HR lady sent out a list of job postings to everyone. Standard practice, right? So then some racist motherraper made up a fake resume full of ethnic stereotypes, you can guess the content, it wasn't very imaginative. They sent it to a field manager, who didn't even look at it, but rather replied to the job posting with the resume- and of course, since the email was sent to everyone, the reply was sent to everyone. So now this nasty piece of hate-literature gets sent to every employee. The IT dept finally, FINALLY, set the email system so that replies to a group email will go by default to the sender, not to the whole group. I've bitched about that here before. Jeez. Does it take a federal hate crime just to keep my mailbox from being filled with "Who took my lunch from the seventh floor fridge" emails about crap that has nothing to do with me? Of course, the plan isn't foolproof. Never underestimate the ingenuity of fools, you know.
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