Purple Monkeys

I don't care.
Title not as random as you might expect. Look in the technology-pseudo-science type section of your favourite news aggregate program and see what you find. It tracks you and then your phone makes cooing noises to comfort you. That's exactly what I need. Cooing noises from my phone.

Because yesterday was a total bloodbath. Totally and utterly out of control were the splashes of blood - what do they call it on CSI shows? Something wound splatters? I speak metaphorically you see.

Okay. Let's run some numbers - 150 of 1643 - that's 9.1% - That's across Canada. If you want to become more granular (granulation - the first step to clotting or something - I honestly can't care too much about the molecular or biological do-dads what control body processes today - then it's actually 150/189. Pity the 39 who didn't make it. Pity them. God, it's hard to not have empathy.

The West didn't do all that well. Quebec did quite well. Us? That's when the blood starts flowing. We were deemed satisfactory in two applications, one old, one new, both genomic in nature which basically leaves a bunch of us out in the cold.

The way up is paved in blue light
However, if all the people who didn't make the cut actually do what they say they'd do - that is, retire, then it leaves lots of room for little old me to grow and move up the ladder. They'd have no choice. There'd be lots of empty space and offices around. Speaking of which, I don't think I've ever seen the building that deserted yesterday - all the senior folk out drowning their sorrows.

I guess - one thing - we're all in the same basket again which is good in the sense that it makes it more difficult to cull the weak since basically we've all been shown to be weak. IF I'm going over a cliff against my will, I want company. The bad thing is, as JK said, "they'll be back with a vengeance".

Looks like we were given erroneous information. In short, ignore the above. It's worse than it seems.

So true. Well. I shall ignore all this today and go water my plants. Wash and put away my dishes, rest my eyes and do my physio exercises. That will help settle the mind even more (done Andy already) and then go convince thingy to do the right thing which is to get the level of chirpiness up an high again.

Manipulate me at your own peril.
After all, what else can we do? Not a hell of a lot. It's not so much that we're rejected, or that another is selected (which really comes to the same thing) - it's more that the fates have decreed that we are not worthy - that hurts. What have we ever done to the fates - stupid bitches, sitting around sorting strings and cutting them randomly. How would they like it if we went after then with sharpened awls?

Not owls, but awls. Much more effective.

Some resolutions to get me through to next week:

  • Candide
  • Glass Jars
  • No Drama Queens
  • No Strata Grumbles
  • No Venting
  • No Legends
  • No Engagements
  • No Pesticides or Herbicides
  • Lots of other Toxins
  • One Roller - 13" in lime
It'll take time, but all this will be rolled away into the pit of forgetting and I'll not set myself up for more disappointing - or rather, I'll forget and set myself up again - but maybe next time, it'll come through. 

Gamma Rays - that's where it's at. It's got to be there.