[Excerpts of  email exchange between me and my brother.  He's a tech co-ordinator for a school out in Denver.

He cc'd his fiance', hence the "warning".]

first 
day today and i couldn't even make it to my office before the 
shit-storm 
started.  i warn these bitchez every year about prioritizing.  short
freakin 
memories.
seriously though, it sounds like fun, but i just got a BUNCHA shit 
dropped on my plate.  i'm not sure how i can make it work, maybe once 
we get moved into our new place at the end of this month...
mmmmm...  shit...
for the good of the bitchez, i'm taking myself out of this sad equation 
for 
the night.  i think i'm gonna slug down a half-pint and ride my bike 
home.  you've been warned. ;)

No worries...other than you're starting to sound like Herbert Kornfeld.  
Which is kinda' cool.  Runnin' with the Accounts Receivable posse', yo.  
Bitchez better have my money.

Yeah, I bet they dropped some shit in your lap, just like those kids in 
Ohio who shat on the homeless then tagged them with stun guns.  
Tech is an afterthought, not a forethought, and in a beauracracy, 
everyone rises to their level of incompetence.  You're stuck at the 
bottom floor.  Always will, no hope for you, unless you get a lobotomy.
Really though, it always strikes me as those who demonstrate 
capability end up getting the shaft.  If you're a useless fucker, 
nobody 
bothers you. Why?  Because you're a useless fucker.  Still get a 
paycheck.
HA.  I'm arguing for mediocrity and marginalization.  Go me.  We should 
all be useless fuckers, and live in a tribe of grass skirts and straw 
huts, 
living off the fat of the land, getting nothing done, eating the food 
that 
trained monkies bring us.  Trained helper monkies.  Who wipe our 
asses and beat our meat, and roll us over so the sun doesn't bake our 
skins as we sit sipping the mai tai they bring us.  And eventually our 
society would be dominated by apes as they dawn to the realization 
that the workers control the means of production, relegating us to the 
caste of second class citizens, until one day a man stands up in 
competence, and says, "hey, I understand gunpowder.  Sorry TimTim, 
its back to slavery for your hairy ass."
You could be that man.
Hope you had a good bike ride. 

"getcher hands of my crank, you damned dirty ape..."

[end excerpt]