. : Black Hearts Inc. : .
. : About me : .
Name::New York City's Watchdog
From::New York City, New York, United States
View my complete profile
. : Fresh Meat : .
Frances, your password was successfully reset
. : Old Bones : .
. : Daily Reads : .
. : Links : .
. : Awards and Accolades : .
. : Blog Roll : .
. : Credits : .
. : Visitors : .
Thursday, March 26, 2015Frances, your password was successfully reset
Wednesday, June 05, 2013Dave Konig's invitation is awaiting your response
Wednesday, May 29, 2013Invitation to connect on LinkedIn
Tuesday, February 27, 2007The Final Ooogle, The Final FOAD... The Day The Dog Died
It has been a long and arduous road here since November of 2005. Coming off the high that was Hurricane Katrina and Hurricane Rita into the crashing reality that my life had gotten away from me in more ways than one... this place gave me something to help my focus. So it has been here that I sat... going through this old dog's bones... plucking off the meat and sucking out the marrow.
This may come as a huge shock to some of you, but if the truth must be told I am long overdue. There just comes a time when one has to grow, and move on or become a stagnate puddle of disease. I'm sure so many of you have felt the same way at some time or another... as virtual slaves to the blog. I need to break these chains. There is only one way I know how, and this is it.
I love you all... more than I ever thought would ever be possible had you told me about it back in 2005. This is harder than you think, but I hope you will all understand. I hope you will all know me well enough to be happy for me, as I would be happy for you if you were granted this freedom.
As a parting gift my beloved little droogies... I will be leaving you all this final Ooogle...
... which is also the last and final FOAD... to Blogger.
Take your Beta. Shine it up. Turn this whore sideways... and... well... you know what you can do with it.
Be good to one another... remember me fondly... see you when I see you*.
Mr. CFP... let the firing of the EMP Strike against Blogspot commence.
*Which will be when YOU read the shirt CAREFULLY... or just click it... bitches.
Monday, February 26, 2007Today Is All About 1993...
I am sure that for most people today will be about a myriad of things. Perhaps it is snowing where you are now, and today will be shoveling and salting and cursing the Groundhog for lying. Perhaps you will spend the day talking about last night's Academy Awards, and the upsets and surprises that it encompassed. Perhaps today, for you, is about today and the start of a new week.
For me, while it will include a few of those things, today is also about February 26, 1993... the day the WTC first got bombed. It has been 14 years since that day when I sat watching the news coverage. I was still in college, and working on a writing assignment that day... with no writers block in sight may I add. People leaving the building with blackened faces from the smoke and soot and streaming into the streets was all over the television.
One of the visuals I remember clearly from that day was the fleet of ambulances and fire trucks beneath the pedestrian passage over West Street. I remember thinking that doing that may be a good thing in my spare time just in case there was another attack. Eight and a half years later it would be that same pedestrian passgeway that I can credit with saving my life... and left me wondering why I ever wanted to do this to begin with. Funny how things change over time.
Six people were murdered that cold day in February. Six people, who most of the world will forget, were the first true victims of Al Queda on American soil. Six people... who in my mind for as long as it is mine... will never be forgotten.
Labels: Never Forget
Sunday, February 25, 2007Smorgashboard Sunday 16
Welcome to another edition of Smorgashboard Sunday... where I offer up the tastiest morsels from the week in my blogosphere. Let the linking begin...
So that has been the past week in my blogosphere. I also want to take a quick second to say thanks to everyone who wished DJ well and to assure me that I don't suck. He's alive and well... and quite literally it is as small as can be. Part of my panic is undoubtedly because of Pudding's description of it... because she was an EMT too and I would think that she actually would know what it was... but I guess those years of true heavy bleeders (the kind you need a hose to wash out the back of the ambulance with) has worn off... or its different because this is actually your own... I don't know.
As for sucking... well I think it may have been my subconscious taking root. Tomorrow's Ooogle Monday will be postponed for something that has happened every year since 1994... and a day I don't easily forget.
Saturday, February 24, 2007Puppy Monster Down
Yeah... it was bound to happen. He "fell and cracked his head open" was how Pudding described it to me last night. Of course... this happens on the day when I am down two of my Communications Specialists on the evening tour... which in effect left me to deal with 63 units by myself while taking incoming emergency calls. Anyone see a problem with this? Yeah... I do. At least my emergency call receiver stuck it out with me even though I yelled at her for doing a Mr. Freeze earlier in the day.
The problem is that it is because of instances like this that I utterly hate and despise my job. What should have happened is that I should have left work and taken my son to the hospital. What did happen is I had to stay at work until a good 6 hours after the accident and a good 3 and a half hours after my shift end time. I did ask Pudding if she wanted an ambulance to which she said no... some bullshit about the cost which I quickly reminded her that since it is one of my companies we won't be getting a bill (not that that would matter because I do have health insurance).
So she took him. Two staples in the nogin. I'll see it later today... not that today matters... because it was yesterday that counted. Hell... she got home with him before I even left work.
Then people wonder why I have little to no sympathy when they get stuck on a late job.
Then I wonder why people can't seem to love me.
I really don't wonder anymore... I know why.
Its because... yeah... I suck.