Monday, April 25, 2005
Things at the Agency have been a bit tense as of late. The rest of the facility has been off the hook and in and out of lock down for the better part of two weeks. Fortunately, J-Unit has been quiet but not without problems. It’s just a matter of time before we have a meltdown of our own. The key words being, “of our own.” J and H Units are self-contained and house the most acute and violent guests in the facility. When the shit goes down on other units, often they call for back up from those units who can spare an agent or two. J & H never go as it would put the guests at risk, as well as our fellow agents.
With the weather becoming nicer by the day, guests are spending more time out in the yard walking around, playing ball and exercising. Like normal people spring tends to put a little extra pep in their step. When inside frustrations are high and tempers run short. It’s times like these an agent gets a little “itchy” as we say in the business. It’s imperative we’re all on top of our game when things get hairy. If not, people get hurt or sometimes worse. So you watch their behaviors, their recreation time, their free time. You take notice the guests are spending a little more time in their pods, sneaking workouts when they can. The bouncing of the legs, the tapping of the fingers, the clenching of the fists. You notice that conversations tend to be a little more heated and shorter. That looks are a little more intense and harder. That relations are strained at best.
As an agent, you notice these things and even seasoned veterans get nervous. So what does this mean? It means a few less cheeseburgers, a few more minutes on the treadmill, a few more minutes on the heavy bag and a few more bench presses. When it all comes down to it, none of us like laying the smack down on the guests, (and this is the God’s honest truth) but in a situation where someone decides to make a bad choice, we’re not letting one another get hurt or worse, when we’re all just trying to pay the bills. At the beginning and end of the day, we’re all in it to keep people safe and better the world we all live in.
This post is dedicated to Detective Sgt. James Allen, PPD, may he rest in peace.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Tonight I took my evening meal in the close but comfortable quarters of the F1. I drove out to A&W and consumed my first wieners and diet root beer of the season. Oddly enough getting a root beer on tap does make a difference much like the difference from bottled and tap beer. Though my root beer was diet, the flavor seemed to have a little more sweetness and snap than Diet A&W in bottles and cans. Now you are all probably saying, "Yeah that's great dude...who gives a shit?" Well for those of us that can't drink regular soda for whatever reason, getting a decent diet alternative is a refreshing change.
I found it somewhat ironic that as I was eating some of the most nutritionally barren food I was also contemplating making changes in my life. I'm not talking by a Corvette cause my penis doesn't work anymore type changes, more like, "Hey, maybe I'll drink some water today and maybe not drink 45 gallons of diet soda." Things of that nature. I am even considering going back to being straight-edge. This may shock some of you, to others it may not be that much of a surprise. I just don't feel the need for certain things in my life any more and as I am a person who has a problem with moderation, it has to be an, "all or nothing" kind of change for me.
Today was warm for April. The temperature hovered near the 80 degree mark. I got scared that I don't have enough shorts to wear. Technically I do, but they are not comfortable enough to wear to work. Looks like I am going shopping tomorrow for shorts, shades and some other shit I ran out of.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
On my way in to a staff meeting, I stopped and picked up iced coffee for myself and the other agents. In case you were wondering about the chocolate-covered strawberry latte from Dunkin' Donuts...forget about it. It's just too much of a weird combination with the chocolate & the strawberry and the coffee. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing.
As I walked from my car to the store, I ran into an old acquaintance, a crooked cop who got busted for selling drugs. We exchanged pleasantries like always, and I shook my head as I walked into java heaven. Somethings never change.
I'm officially pulling my 6-disc, in-dash cd player out of my car. As soon as it gives back two of my cds. Their stuck in there and I'm not sure how to go about getting them out. Any hints?
That's about it. It's hot. I'm hot and more clothes need to be removed. Comment, drop me an email, call me.
Peace & Grease
Monday, April 18, 2005
The one I write for knows who I'm talking about. *hugz* JackassJimmy is still waiting for the people at the lottery to call him back because the private jet company needs payment by Friday.
In other news...
Days at the Agency have been seasoned somewhat with unrest. While I have not had to disarm or take anyone down recently, there is a feeling in the air which makes me uneasy. Maybe it's to much Phil Collins, I mean is there such a thing?
32 doesn't feel a whole lot older than 31. However the fact that there was not even the remote possibilities of naked ladies, twenty-something women or getting arrested were not in the cards for my birthday, kind of made me sad. In many ways I long to be back in that sleepy little Minnesotan town, where the beers were cheap, the drinks were cheaper and life moved at a much slower pace. Whoever set the pace for the East Coast should be killed. We're a society of caffeine and other substance-fueled zombies, concerned with deadlines, shift-changes and all things relating to Big Brother, the almighty dollar and Britney Spears.
Sometimes though when the low roar of people driving past my house at 5am to get to work wakes me, it saddens me and it makes it hard to get out of bed. We were not put on this Earth to live like this. Somewhere along the way, things got very, very fucked up.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Like the master procrastinator, I was all up in the post office circa 8:00 tonight to mail my taxes. Like most other last minute Tom, Dick and Harriets, I was somewhat frazzled on my way in but for the first time since God was a boy, they had the line on lockdown and that shit was organized! There lines were roped off, like in the bank and there was some postal dude walking around doing a pre-flight check, "Do you need confirmation of delivery, Stamps, help filling out your address?" For people who just can't keep it together, this dude was straight up helpful. It made me happy to see that it was not like Wrestlemania in the PO.
I stepped into line, waited 2 minutes and then to the counter. But before I could do that...two frat-cap wearing mother-fuckers had the nerve to talk about, "Dude must be gay, his letters wreak of cologne..." I was gonna let it slide but why, always engage when you can humiliate or educate. "What if I am gay?" I said as I turned around. Bro-dudes 1&2 instantly shit their pants as I stared them down. They were taller than me (not anything to brag about) and in all probability, would have taken me had a donnybrook ensued. "Uh...uh...that's cool dude" the bigger of the two stammered. Fucking gutless, not so much as a fuck you back from two guys who had a decade's worth of youth and stamina on me. I should have slapped them both across the face on principle.
I stepped to the counter, posted my taxes and a package for the dazed and bedazzling one, (that did not reek of cologne you fuckin' dummies) and was on my way. On my way back to my car, which I expertly parallel parked, (that never happens) a freakishly big man stepped in my way. "Hey man, you got ten bucks? I need some stamps." He didn't look homeless, drunk/strung out or anything like that. He was pushing Andre the Giant status though. I was all, "how many stamps do you need?" "Two" he said. I pulled out a book of stamps from the pocket of my hoodie, "Here you go man, you can keep the rest." He was pissed. I sized up the amount of damage a shot to the baby-makers and an elbow to the nose would do...I was in trouble. "Come on man...I want to buy stamps and have like 8 bucks left over for beer." I was pissed and all of a sudden foolishly courageous, "you're a fucking idiot" I said as I side-stepped the man-mountain and walked away.
He must have been stunned by my response, because he didn't give chase.
I got home and decided to see how long it would take for me to walk to work. So I did. Twenty minutes total and that's walking at not to strenuous of a pace. Fuck you $5.00 a gallon George! This patriot is walking to work and you can eat my ass!
I walked into my house to find Red Sox Nation in need of a few runs to defeat the Evil Empire yet again. Jason Varitek isn't captain for nothing. Although to the genius fan who took a swing at Gary Sheffield, besides him being one of the biggest and angriest Yankees, having millions of dollars to sue your ass, why would you try to punch him in the face? I hate the Yankees, but GS is a professional.
That's all I got.
Peace out yo!
That having been said, it's good to be back. The occassional trip to the other side of the universe is good but you have to make sure you take time to pack. I was a bit hasty, this was bad.
In other news...
The sun has decided to come around again. It's been nice looking out on cloudless blue skies, even though its never been above 45.
Picked up some new cds the other day: Bad Religion's Empire Strikes First, Hum's Electra2000 & Less than Jake's: Borders and Boundaries. I have to say I am happy with all of them. All were solid choices and I have been rocking out since purchasing them.
I also received a very nice package via the post. I opened the envelope and cds, paradise vacations, fulfilled wishes & dreams that filled the air spilled onto the table. It was a good day to be a Jackass.
I'll be around more. To the people who read me for the first time before I checked out for awhile, mea culpa. It will never happen again.
No apologies, no promises, no regrets...
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Friday, April 08, 2005
Went down and visited with the parental units last night. They took me out for dinner in celebration of my 2nd, thirtieth birthday. We had a good time. It's always somewhat bizarre to get tanked with mom & dad but it never gets out of hand. Ok, that's not true, it gets out of hand if it's a holiday and we're home. In that case my dad throws caution to the wind.
and thus I learned where I get my tolerance and reckless abandon when drinking...
in case anyone was wondering, "What do I have to do" by Stabbing Westward, gets my vote for, "best desperate, broken-hearted, alterna-metal jam of the 90's".
It's friday and I have a huge weekend planned.
Later on tonight is drinking with co-workers and JackassJoe and JackassJen (brother & his girlfriend)
Tomorrow, I am partying my ass off at 5-2-9. It's an, "Alice in Wonderland" party and I have heard from a reliable source, I will be able to party my ass off with diet soda and mushrooms....it doesn't get much better than that.
Well maybe if there were free boxes of $50 bills and hot scots-irish chicks, but a guy cant be greedy.
I got my hair cut today. I look like a fucking marine. *sigh* I need a normal sized head.
Time for bed. There should be periodic updates through the weekend depending on how fucked up I am.
I'm not making any promises.
I'm Jackass Jimmy and I endorse this post, beeyotches!
Monday, April 04, 2005
I managed to ignore it for most of the day. Some people at work had a cake and we took a short break from our secret agent duties to remind each other we're still human. It was weird celebrating my birth, when all I wanted to do was forget.
Don't get me wrong, I don't have a death wish or anything, I just kinda wanted to go to work and have Monday be Monday and not my Monday, my birthday. However I made it through the day with no lasting scars. This is a good thing.
I received cards and well-wishes from all those important to me. my brother even called which shocked the shit out of me. Apparently we are going out for drinks tomorrow night.
not one goddamned friend of mine from college called, email, txt msgd, snail mailed or so much as waved at me today. Thus my post work birthday ritual of a meal, and then shopping at Target.
Snow Patrol, Rise Against and Atticus /Dragging Lake v3.
I was informed I need to get out more. That I should go out and meet women my own age. I was told I would soon be going to a local martini bar and that I should dry clean a suit if need be. I don't have a stock portfolio. I don't even have a retirement plan. I don't drink martini's, in fact I think I am addicted to diet orange slice. I find most women in their 30's depressing, though there are exceptions. I know I am no prize but still. I'd rather die laughing with a tattooed, PBR-swilling twenty-something than curl up on a couch and watch 5 minutes of Sex in the City.
If I was a flavor of ice cream right now, I'd be bitter-bitter boy.
Perhaps it's the pulled-pork I ate talking. We all know how swine likes to jump into our souls and take over.
another year over and one foot further in the grave.
R.I.P. PJP II
Less Than Jake Rocks.