Day 2 of drifting aimlessly. Today, the big event is trying to get our satellite receiver working better, which means it is no longer operating. The operation is pretty complicated, with one guy sitting inside the giant, white Plexiglas dome with some sort of portable command-entry device that looks like a tricorder, one guy in the radio room on a cell phone getting commands from mission control and one guy in our control room operating the various control devices connected to the receiver in the dome. It is all very impressive and not working worth a damn. I’ve never been inside the dome, before. It’s very cold and acoustically perfect. The first time I spoke, I nearly shit myself; it amplified my voice so much. I sang for a while, recited some shitty poetry I memorized in 8th grade and cursed my boss in a very cool, god-like voice.
But I got bored with that pretty quick, had a smoke and now I’m back in the control room with nothing to do but write about my great dome adventure. I promised the Queen I would try to get a picture of the barracuda, but he hasn’t been around for my last four urine dumps (I’m in Apollo 13 mode with all the satellite/Houston, we have a problem shit going on) off the stern.
I’ve decided today is going to be Honorary Burt Bacharach Day and I’ve set up a playlist with every third song written by Burt. My mind is like a bad satellite receiver-it is always wandering off-topic into places it shouldn’t go, so I’ll tell you that as soon as I wrote Burt, I thought of Ernie and their progressive relationship (for Sesame Street, anyway), then careened off the bulkheads into the Muppets and a video one of the writers, or editors linked in our daily 379 emails (Oh man, do I wish you guys could read those babys). When/if the satellite receiver again becomes functional, I will post a link to this video. It’s a music video of Kermit jamming the NIN song, Hurt. I was in tears. Kermit boosting heroin is something everyone needs to see, especially if you’ve been there. I could have done without getting my eyes burned out by the image of Kermit blowing Fozzie for a fix, but you gotta take the good with the bad and everyone has to pay for their habits, right?
Burt tunes put me in such a good mood. Have I told you that I have red stapler? I will pause right here to take a picture of it (I bet you can blow up the pic to see proof and if your doing that right now can you read this? FUCK OFF)
(click to enlarge)
It’s a Swingline model 747, with slightly curved handle for better control as opposed to the model 767 straight-handled looser it usually sits right next to, looking quite smug I might add. (you can also see part of this looser in the picture) Jackie De Shannon is singing “What The World Needs Now Is Love” and I love my red stapler. Nobody better try to snatch that fucker, or I’ll rip their arms off.
UPDATE: It looks like the operation to get even better reception has completely fucked the reception. They’re done and nothing works. I need a smoke.
AGAIN: No sat. Went down to B.S. with the cook. Tonight’s menu is bef (not beef) stroganoff, Cajun-blackened redfish with crawfish sauce, steamed veggies and pesto noodles. One half hour till chow….
I watched (sat TV has different recvr) a portion of a show about the formation of the elements of the universe. I re-learned that gaseous elements formed during the big bang, all elements up to iron formed in the early stars and the remaining, heavier elements were formed when the stars aged enough to start going supernova. Ok.
80’s music sucks. Nothing good came out of the eighties. Big hair. Guys wearing makeup, singing like chicks. Not good.
Solitaire, even spider solitaire gets mighty damn boring. Fast. Pinball and minesweeper are even worse. I have no good books and I wish the sun would set so I have something to do. Sunsets out here are spectacular. I will try to photograph tonight’s.