Friday, July 11, 2014

The GB Diaries: Tales from the Dip: Days 5 & 6

As spoken from Dante's Inferno: "It's him!"  GB.

I'm putting names of individuals as random initials to not "call anyone out", just in case someone's pee-pee starts a' achin'.  Don't want no "pee pees" a' achin' if ya know what ah' mean.  Ahem.

GB on a job interview as he performed in an out-of-package Arrow shirt in 2011, creases still in-place, unwashed.  Needless to say, he didn't get the position for Lead-GSE.. twice.

The GB Diaries: Tales from the Dip: Day 5 (continued)

It must be said, as it hasn’t before, that GB takes a nap from 2 to about 4am, feet on the table hard, slammed without any reverence, and snores.  GB snores loudly, both awake and asleep.  This is a common occurrence, and usually after a fine meal his wife prepares for him that he dissects.  He dumps-out portions he doesn’t like and substitutes them for candy-bars and/or various bags of chips.  In the course of an evening he might eat $20 worth of sodas, chips, and candy-bars, though it’s hard to determine as he sneaks them in the sense that he hides the fact he’s eating quite carefully.  He often drops these things on the floor and eats them regardless.

GB at work at 2pm.

She may condemn you as a "Chicken Fracker"
  GB also talks to himself; not the typical, “Now let’s see here..” kind of thing, but more of complete paragraphs and deep-rooted conversations laced with opinions.  Catching only portions such as, “The basketball needs to ketchups (then quietly whispered even more-so, repeated)” can be confusing to an on-listener, especially when neither ketchup nor a basketball is on the TV or anywhere else in any way.  These mutterings go on for hours.  More concerning is the explosive onomatopoeia of sighs and claps and whistles, obviously derived from chewing paint as a child (or now) and is an honest and obvious sign of Tourette Syndrome.  He continuously paces into things and people quickly and alarmingly, usually stopping suddenly inches away, pretends to consider something, then about-faces and marches off.  It’s quite worrisome.  No matter where I sit myself he’ll suddenly and unexpectedly run towards me, consider something over me or around me and suddenly need to get that item for no reason.  It's quite disorienting, as it happens nearly constantly.  During his "considering" he turns his head to one side, nods to himself, mumbles an odd agreement with himself, and quickly about-faces and marches slowly off, satisfied.  Imagine you attacked every 15 minutes this way!  I usually try to find the safest corner and hide there, but somehow, though nothing is near or around me, he'll charge it like a pack of wild puppies on cocaine and PCP.
  Today, we were told to leave the HTC alone but he performed a software stop on it, then called FEJ afterwards despite my recommending him not to (which he agreed with until I went to get a water at HW).  He closed the tunnels as well.  I asked if he had un-remoted the workstations and he said he had, but when I checked an hour later, I noticed he had not.  I’ll let him drown on that one.  Liar!
  Another instance was that he said he had already 33 hours of special, uncompensated comp-time donated to the company.  This is a required and illegal practice that the company I work for is doing to make them look better.  If the State Department found out about these "donated hours" a massive law-suit would occur.  I'm not a "whistle blower" so a week's pay as "sacrifice" or "thanks" doesn't bother me too much.  It's "encouraged" to give a week's worth of uncompensated pay in the form of "sick days" you might possibly take (but never can).  During my midterm feedback with The Boss, I was praised of my donation of hours, but I mentioned my goals listed were to be 10% higher a donation than any other (company not listed here) person and that GB had 33 when I only had 26 and I needed to get to 36 or so.  The Boss looked oddly at me and said he has donated no hours yet.  Another GB lie.  In the last 5 days I’ve caught him in quite a few and is completely unreliable.  I've known him to lie over the years dozens of times, usually for no reason.  He's a psychopath, and it's frustrating communicating with him, because I can't understand him speaking and when I do, he lies, so I just shut my pie-hole and sit in a corner and watch him destroy things.
Happily telling lies since 2011.
  His console went out again (likely due to his damaging as any random one I sit as remains fine for months) and Thomas helped him bring it back with a reeeeEEEE-BOOOT! (He happily says it this way like he won the lottery, all lotteries, and types it like this too, though a few more capital Qs and capital 3s in the text normally, as he feels that's necessary, oh, and an apostrophe percent symbol, for whatever that means, perhaps an abstract, Picaso'ed l33t?). Not sure what’s going on there.  So much typing from him, mostly tarring it seems, and moving files on odd servers for what reason I have no idea.  I changed my colors of my mission servers program to only turn yellow around 95% full, and red at 98% full so people will stop over-reacting to colors.  I turned off my 3rd console while I ate a Caesar Salad and sat there near the CKNet machine and he quite fussed, thinking it was broken.  I told him I just turned off the screen but he paced and worried.  I’ve walked away from it now to type this.  I suspect he’ll turn them back on for no reason.
  DY the Undead Zombie (tm) who has one foot in the grave and can see the twilight monsters in the Astral Plane such as basilisk and Djin notified us beds-srv1 had some 48 zombies present; an easy fix but GB worked on that for 30 minutes.  Of course DY can see them, his children, who haunt the servers and the twilight world alike, moaning the need for brains, the hunger.  Oh the hunger.
The GB Diaries: Tales from the Dip: Day 6

CB sent me an email GB had sent, stating, "When are you coming back to crew?  Holy Crap!"  Interesting GB doesn't like working with me as I don't interact with him much, I just try to stay out of his way.  Today, he consistently marched around and gave his piano-lifting-across-the-room "WHEW!" when nothing occurred.  This happens every 15 minutes or so, often more frequent, like waves of an autistic ocean.  Sometimes he'd quickly shake his head as if bonked by a cartoon mallet by Acme.  He'd suddenly have "something" to do on the other side of the room, look at something at random, nod approvingly, and run back to another chair.  He did this for hours. 
Heavy panting...
He grabbed a Welch's Grape Juice and drank half and used the other half as a "spit can" for his illegal chew tobacco (which he dropped and messed over the floor twice).  He later drank from it a few times which confused me.
Where my drool-cup?  I gots chew!  Answer: floor.
It is to be noted he uses ALL the Kleenexes offered by the faculty every day, for drool.  When all consumed, he uses people.
Lots of heavy sighing today and one time he started applauding slowly and very loudly for 30 seconds when I interrupted him, "GB, why are you applauding yourself?"  He spoke in what appeared to sound like a backwards Led Zeppelin album which made no sense.

We had a TTC swap today for a test which he logged (I allow him to log for amusement's sake) and then (classified agency) called asking about data which he then took 2 hours trying to figure out and said everything was fine. 

Additional and Other data was out and he needed 2 checklists to drop and re-open those which took an hour.  He's profoundly retarded. 
In the bathroom, some (customers) were worried his ass blew up in stall 3, literally bursting open and destroying the stall entirely.  The door hung from a sole hinge.  They were more concerned he didn't wash his shit-hands and dove into some leftover pizza.  No one touched it as they looked in horror.  A few wept.
GB discovering toy.
It must be noted that GB likes to SMASH the keyboards haphazardly, as if they're an old hammer-strike keyboard that requires strong key-pressing to get through several layers of carbon-paper back in the 1940s.  There's no need for this and he destroys keyboards often, letters on square plastic hailing the room's occupants.  Who knows what survives the random key-rapings?  Here's a video of him at home typing on the computer his wife gave him, or that she told him it was a computer.  He's happy regardless..
GB at the "computer keyboard"...

 God save me...

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