Here's one of those times when I'm going to step away from talking about working in a prison (sort of, anyway) and go off on a tear about something else.
Just to rant a little and get something off of my chest. Don't mind me.
I'm talking about "Experts". I'm sure you all know one. At least one. Maybe more.
They are the people who, no matter what the subject matter is, they have been there done that and have the t-shirt hanging in their closet. They are obviously immortal beings because if you had kept track of their lengthy exploits they would have had to have been alive for centuries at least. And they look so well preserved, don't they?
Not only have they done everything, they also have at least one of every single thing in the world. You could say "It took me years, but I finally got the Louvre to sell me the Mona Lisa." The expert would say "Yours must be a copy. I have the original already." And if you ask for proof they would claim it was in a safe deposit box or stored in their grandfathers basement in Afghanistan or something.
But they already have one. Really.
No matter what you have ever done or thought or considered or saw on a teevee show, the expert has already done it. And perfectly, of course. Landed square on their feet with their toes pointed and got a perfect "10" from the judges.
What sad, empty little lives they must actually lead.
To have to pathologically make up such wild B.S. tales about what their life is like makes me wonder if they have ever actually done anything at all. And it makes you question everything about their life from the very first.
Does he really live in an apartment or in his mothers basement? He's told me for years about his wife and kids. Do they really even exist at all? If he really does own all of that stuff, why doesn't he sell at least some of it and move out of this rat-hole of a town? If he can really do all of those wild things he says, why is he working here for just a little more than minimum wage?
And one of the most amazing and perplexing aspects of the whole deal is that the people who talk so much obvious nonsense never seem to shut up and rest on their laurels. They have to constantly dominate any conversation with tales of their amazing feats when everybody in the room stands there and rolls their eyes, knowing full well he is completely full of crap.
I know more than a few of them. And in a way I feel sorry for them. Like I said, they must lead sad empty little lives in reality. I would feel sorry for them if I didn't constantly want to slap them hard about the chops and scream "Will you shut the frack up for two freaking seconds and quit telling me all this bullsnap nonsense? Nobody here believes a word you say anyway so just shut the frack up!!!"
**sigh** I'm sure that wouldn't work, anyway. He'd launch into some tale about how he got mad and told a five star general the very same thing and then threw him out of his office.
You know, he got the Congressional Medal of Honor for that.
Friday I am up in the Control Center again. And a few times next week. We'll see how that goes.
And Friday is going to be Be Bald and Free Day and National Dessert Day as well as Alternative Fuel Day and National Egg Day.
Hmm.. bald and eggs on the same day. Mere coincidence? I think not.
Cats can change your world - *While I was in Napoleon getting a haircut Thursday, the hairdresser told me a sweet little story I'm going to share. I'm paraphrasing, and may get some ...
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