Hump Day and Survival of the Dumbest
Dear Blog,
Wednesday sure earned the nickname "Hump Day" for me today. It was easily the hardest day of this week so far; it seemed I was up to my knees in boxes for 4 straight hours. Only proper for Hump Day, the day after which you can look back at last weekend and know that now the next such rest period is closer than the last one is.
Got up around 1:00 yesterday, wrote in my sports blog but forgot to get to the politics blog (don't worry - I've got a hell of a good idea for an entry for tomorrow for that one to make up for it), and ate lunch and watched a couple of episodes of Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law On Demand, which is the greatest thing, like, ever! (On Demand, not Harvey Birdman, although he's great, too)
Made and then ate pizza, watched Scrubs, then checked out another show On Demand which I had seen once but I never gave it enough of a chance to get into it called Numbers, which airs on CBS I'm not sure when. But now that I know we have it On Demand, I'll be able to catch the new episodes when it's convenient for me. Damn, that read just like a commercial.
Anyway, work was a bit of a chore last night, as noted above. I should have known when I started the night sorting a paper load and having to deal with the leftovers from the guy in front of me, who was sorting a truck with two folks in it that it was going to be a bad night. Most of you have no idea what I just said, so I'll fill you in:
Paper load is the bane of a sorter's existence. What it is, is Office Depot is always shipping loads and loads of printer paper through our warehouse. These fucking loads come in all the time, and when they do, it's practically a whole truckload of this shit, one box after another. Now, paper load isn't bad for unloaders or loaders, because the boxes are all the same size and weight, and so they're easy to stack or to unstack. But for the sorter the boxes are miserable, because they're a) heavy as hell (and a healthy dose of them are guaranteed to be going on a belt above your head), b)easy to unstack, so they come at you by the boatloads, and c) horribly labeled, so you have to look at each box individually and read the ship to address, usually in small print (as opposed to having a human readable, which allows you to tell by three large, bold numbers which shelf the package belonged on), before you tried to lift the beheamoth over your head while ignoring the other ones spilling off the belt and onto the backs of your legs. Yes, sir, paper sort sucks.
Ok, when we sort there is usually a bar that runs the width of the belt, keeping one sorter's flow to himself (or herself, implied from now on). But sometimes, when for some reason the sorter cannot be expected to be able to handle the load by himself, he will run what is called a half-bar, which means the bar only extends about 1/2 way down the belt, knocking the packasges closer to the sorter but allowing the packages he doesn't get to to pass by, rather than getting piled up and ending up around his feet. In this case, Bobby (the kid in front of me) had two folks unloading his truck, which is certainly cause for a half-bar. Since I did not have two guys in my truck, I was at full bar, so all of Bobby's excess packages were coming my way and making the already horrific chore that is paper load even more difficult. Now, go back and reread paragraph 4, I'll wait for you.
*whistles, checks watch*
Ah, you're back. Anyway, I think I handled the adversity pretty well and the guy behind me in line, Fred (who is an older guy - older than us, I mean, not like white hair and a cane old - and has apparently been doing this a while because he is really, REALLY good at it) helped me considerably when things started to get out of hand a few times, and I was able to get through it. That was, of course, the worst part of the night. It was all uphill from there, but not far uphill.
Honestly, though, I've had worse days. But after a relatively easy Monday and Tuesday, this Hump Day was a little tougher to get over.
I'm convinced that America has a big problem. There is an infestation going on in this country and you know what I'm talking about.
No, not Mexicans. But if you answered Mexicans, then you sir (or ma'am) are part of the problem.
It's Dumb people. They are now completely unchecked and they are breeding like rabbits on eccstacy.
You see, those of you familiar with Darwin know all about the concept of Survival of the Fittest, which states that evolution occurs when a particular strand of gene causes the best genes to flood the genepool, because those animals which have the most beneficial qualities to it's survival will be the ones which survive long enough to multiply fruitfully.
But when you take survival out of the equation, the best genes cease to necessarily be the genes which flood the genepool. In the human species, in this country, those of us who are multiplying the earliest and most often are not the best and the brightest, but rather the Dumb, and the Dumber. In olden days, these people would wander off into the woods and get eaten by a bear, but in modern times, nothing keeps them from popping out little morons nonstop from age 13 to 53, and longer in men's cases. Now they're taking over this country, and it's everywhere you see; People drinking Budweiser, people watching Larry the Cable Guy and yelling, "Git-R-Done!", people listening to Kid Rock, people laughing at that guy on the Dodge ads who keeps yelling about his "Hemi"... It's a goddam catastrophe. And you can't even teach them about Darwin, because the Dumb in this country don't even "believe in" Darwin.
It's not to say they don't have dumb people everywhere, but they can't take over other places because in the third world they tend to get eaten by bears or sharks or bitten by snakes. Even in this country, the dumb can sometimes find themselves in positions where they can be killed or almost killed by carnivorous wildlife - see Seigfreid and Roy. In the rest of the developed world, like Europe, the dumb people are only breeding at the same rate as everyone else - right around the replacement rate.
But in this country the dumb just breed and breed, and the smart people have made the world nice and safe so there aren't nearly enough stupid, dangerous things dumb people can do to knock themselves out of the gene pool early (although kudos to Ben Roethlisberger for figuring out a way - too bad it didn't work out for you this time, Ben; try little harder, next time!). Even the clowns who smoke their way into lung cancer aren't usually snuffed out until they're in their 50s or so - well past prime breeding age.
So what do we do? Pick up and abandon - flee to Canada or Europe? Dear Lord, no! First of all, there is no way I am allowing these goobers to manipulate me into leaving my homeland - which I love very much, by the way; for reasons most of you who would call me unpatriotic are far too dense to understand - and second of all, if we leave these guys to their own devices here in America, then we are giving them The Bomb.
On that note, I take leave of you this morning. I hope all of you check out the kick-ass essay I'm going to write tomorrow in the Return of Dascent, and whatever I have cooked up for tomorrow in the sports blog.
Oh, and please leave comments at the end of my entries. I'm not saying do it everytime, just enough so that I get a good idea of who is reading this. You can all post now - I know that when I started the sports blog a couple months ago you couldn't until just recently, but you can now. There is a word verification to avoid spam, but that's it.
Later...
Wednesday sure earned the nickname "Hump Day" for me today. It was easily the hardest day of this week so far; it seemed I was up to my knees in boxes for 4 straight hours. Only proper for Hump Day, the day after which you can look back at last weekend and know that now the next such rest period is closer than the last one is.
Got up around 1:00 yesterday, wrote in my sports blog but forgot to get to the politics blog (don't worry - I've got a hell of a good idea for an entry for tomorrow for that one to make up for it), and ate lunch and watched a couple of episodes of Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law On Demand, which is the greatest thing, like, ever! (On Demand, not Harvey Birdman, although he's great, too)
Made and then ate pizza, watched Scrubs, then checked out another show On Demand which I had seen once but I never gave it enough of a chance to get into it called Numbers, which airs on CBS I'm not sure when. But now that I know we have it On Demand, I'll be able to catch the new episodes when it's convenient for me. Damn, that read just like a commercial.
Anyway, work was a bit of a chore last night, as noted above. I should have known when I started the night sorting a paper load and having to deal with the leftovers from the guy in front of me, who was sorting a truck with two folks in it that it was going to be a bad night. Most of you have no idea what I just said, so I'll fill you in:
Paper load is the bane of a sorter's existence. What it is, is Office Depot is always shipping loads and loads of printer paper through our warehouse. These fucking loads come in all the time, and when they do, it's practically a whole truckload of this shit, one box after another. Now, paper load isn't bad for unloaders or loaders, because the boxes are all the same size and weight, and so they're easy to stack or to unstack. But for the sorter the boxes are miserable, because they're a) heavy as hell (and a healthy dose of them are guaranteed to be going on a belt above your head), b)easy to unstack, so they come at you by the boatloads, and c) horribly labeled, so you have to look at each box individually and read the ship to address, usually in small print (as opposed to having a human readable, which allows you to tell by three large, bold numbers which shelf the package belonged on), before you tried to lift the beheamoth over your head while ignoring the other ones spilling off the belt and onto the backs of your legs. Yes, sir, paper sort sucks.
Ok, when we sort there is usually a bar that runs the width of the belt, keeping one sorter's flow to himself (or herself, implied from now on). But sometimes, when for some reason the sorter cannot be expected to be able to handle the load by himself, he will run what is called a half-bar, which means the bar only extends about 1/2 way down the belt, knocking the packasges closer to the sorter but allowing the packages he doesn't get to to pass by, rather than getting piled up and ending up around his feet. In this case, Bobby (the kid in front of me) had two folks unloading his truck, which is certainly cause for a half-bar. Since I did not have two guys in my truck, I was at full bar, so all of Bobby's excess packages were coming my way and making the already horrific chore that is paper load even more difficult. Now, go back and reread paragraph 4, I'll wait for you.
*whistles, checks watch*
Ah, you're back. Anyway, I think I handled the adversity pretty well and the guy behind me in line, Fred (who is an older guy - older than us, I mean, not like white hair and a cane old - and has apparently been doing this a while because he is really, REALLY good at it) helped me considerably when things started to get out of hand a few times, and I was able to get through it. That was, of course, the worst part of the night. It was all uphill from there, but not far uphill.
Honestly, though, I've had worse days. But after a relatively easy Monday and Tuesday, this Hump Day was a little tougher to get over.
I'm convinced that America has a big problem. There is an infestation going on in this country and you know what I'm talking about.
No, not Mexicans. But if you answered Mexicans, then you sir (or ma'am) are part of the problem.
It's Dumb people. They are now completely unchecked and they are breeding like rabbits on eccstacy.
You see, those of you familiar with Darwin know all about the concept of Survival of the Fittest, which states that evolution occurs when a particular strand of gene causes the best genes to flood the genepool, because those animals which have the most beneficial qualities to it's survival will be the ones which survive long enough to multiply fruitfully.
But when you take survival out of the equation, the best genes cease to necessarily be the genes which flood the genepool. In the human species, in this country, those of us who are multiplying the earliest and most often are not the best and the brightest, but rather the Dumb, and the Dumber. In olden days, these people would wander off into the woods and get eaten by a bear, but in modern times, nothing keeps them from popping out little morons nonstop from age 13 to 53, and longer in men's cases. Now they're taking over this country, and it's everywhere you see; People drinking Budweiser, people watching Larry the Cable Guy and yelling, "Git-R-Done!", people listening to Kid Rock, people laughing at that guy on the Dodge ads who keeps yelling about his "Hemi"... It's a goddam catastrophe. And you can't even teach them about Darwin, because the Dumb in this country don't even "believe in" Darwin.
It's not to say they don't have dumb people everywhere, but they can't take over other places because in the third world they tend to get eaten by bears or sharks or bitten by snakes. Even in this country, the dumb can sometimes find themselves in positions where they can be killed or almost killed by carnivorous wildlife - see Seigfreid and Roy. In the rest of the developed world, like Europe, the dumb people are only breeding at the same rate as everyone else - right around the replacement rate.
But in this country the dumb just breed and breed, and the smart people have made the world nice and safe so there aren't nearly enough stupid, dangerous things dumb people can do to knock themselves out of the gene pool early (although kudos to Ben Roethlisberger for figuring out a way - too bad it didn't work out for you this time, Ben; try little harder, next time!). Even the clowns who smoke their way into lung cancer aren't usually snuffed out until they're in their 50s or so - well past prime breeding age.
So what do we do? Pick up and abandon - flee to Canada or Europe? Dear Lord, no! First of all, there is no way I am allowing these goobers to manipulate me into leaving my homeland - which I love very much, by the way; for reasons most of you who would call me unpatriotic are far too dense to understand - and second of all, if we leave these guys to their own devices here in America, then we are giving them The Bomb.
On that note, I take leave of you this morning. I hope all of you check out the kick-ass essay I'm going to write tomorrow in the Return of Dascent, and whatever I have cooked up for tomorrow in the sports blog.
Oh, and please leave comments at the end of my entries. I'm not saying do it everytime, just enough so that I get a good idea of who is reading this. You can all post now - I know that when I started the sports blog a couple months ago you couldn't until just recently, but you can now. There is a word verification to avoid spam, but that's it.
Later...
posted by k - L - g | 5:10 AM
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