Two Weeks' Notice

Neil Young's new album is out and he wants all of us to listen to it for free. Go here to check it out.
Chevron Corp.'s first-quarter profit soared 49 percent to $4 billion. Dumbya thinks it's cool. Didn't he claim to be an oilman in the past? Doesn't he still trade Christmas cards with some of them?

So, two weeks' notice was emailed to the boss at 4:45 this afternoon and I am taking my first full weekend off (not counting the Rogue debacle) since, I think, January. Seriously. What am I going to do? Clean, pack, drink, watch sports on tv, read, sleep, nap, watch movies, visit a coffee shop. How did I manage to get the whole weekend off? i made it known that I was not coming in to the office. Those co-workers who had business to give me did so today in order to help in my quest for temporary peace. I'll tell ya, ever since the staff meeting when the boss outed me on a comment I made in a private conversation the field guys have been cool with me. At first, there was a bit of tension, but I guess they figured out that my problem was not with them.
My lab tech is not happy with me, but that's because he knows I have protected him from the boss. And I got him his raise and paid certification testing. And I'm funny when I'm on the job. And I'm leaving. And I'm now Mr. Cellophane. Chicago fans will get that one. Next weekend I will hopefully get to go East and visit with my parents, brother and brother's family, and sister. The weekend after that I will be preparing for transit Southward, doing the Tattoo You and saying goodbye to a couple of workfriends. If I'm really lucky I'll get to spend a little time with my best buddy from my Seattle days. The Tattoo You trip will be fun. I plan on taking the Bremerton ferry over to Seattle, bussing it to the shop, doing the Deed, walking one block to one of my favorite gin joints (the Reading Gaol) and hoisting a Guinness for old time's sake. maybe that old geezer Richard will still be haunting the premises. He and I were comrades-in-arms when the Crossword was out. When I moved from Seattle back South in 2000 he gave me a pair of homemade birdfeeders as a parting gift. Worst. Birdfeeders. Ever. Looked like someone decapitated the Tin Man and hung the head in effigy. But it was a beautiful sentiment. As was the group blowjob I received from the female barstaff.
Okay, I made that last part up.
They took turns.
Okay, I made that up, too.
But I know they wanted to.
Okayyyyy, they didn't want to.
But only because they were all Lesbians.
I'm a Lesbian.