Alrighty then, this should be the last test of my email posting capabilities. I think I have the script settings, cron job and accounts all sorted out. Yay, me!

The desire to make this all work is kind of fucktarded in the grand scheme or fabulously astute.

I figure that this time around, ain’t no one gonna fuck me up work wise by checking me on the web. So, I’ve blocked the IP of the potential workplace. Then, I’ll forward all of my email to a gmail account, so that I am not tempted to do any pop-mailing directly from my website to their network (leaving behind a little dee-rob.com trail).

Finally, I’ll weblog (if I must) during the day from a gmail account and/or my cell phone. That way, all they know is that I checked a gmail account, which seems pretty normal these days.

It’s all a bit crazy, and I can’t assume that that particular ball of lightning will strike twice. (Not to mention my disinclination to make any violent-seeming, work-related jests. Although, I still stand by my various descriptions of meetings in which beating yourself to death was preferable to the meeting continuing.)

All of this is also assuming that I get the job. (But, the recruiter keeps assuring me that all they want is to talk to someone under whom I reported. As agonized over in previous posts, easier said then done given the circumstances, including time passed, and policy restraints.

I did find another friendly doc who is out on maternity leave (thus far from bureaucratic big brother (is that redundant?)).

Dork that I am I will also be able to post using my Palm pilot.

Also, dork that I am, I will be seeing the Star Wars flick tonight. At least I can say I am not geek enough to have been in line yesterday. And, assuredly, I will not be wearing any masks, carrying any sorts or otherwise cloaking myself Jedi-fashion. Dignity, that’s what I’m fucking about.

Although, at Costco the other day, buying my boyo a rotisserie chicken, I did see a Darth Vader voice changer and light saber, which I wanted to purchase for said boyo but didn’t. I figure if he’s geek enough to buy these tickets in advance, enlist not one but two programming buddies (who truly are nerds nonpareil), he should look the part. But, frugality and the certainty he would refuse to play dress up won.

Speaking of Costco, somewhere or another I saw this guy dissing the Costco experience and meant to post a counterpoint or write something here, but I never got around to it. Here’s the abbreviated version.

The single best part of going to Costco (or I suppose any big warehouse purchasing club) is people watching. Sure it’s twistedly voyeuristic, but fun for the whole family (or at least for me). I love, love, love looking in other baskets and trying hard to imagine what the plan is.

So far, my two favorite sightings were an old, Indian woman with three giant, gallon bottles of catsup and a cart full of Bounty paper towels. (I like to imagine she was making a home video of a slasher film, like kids did in high school with catsup as blood (only then it wasn’t video, because I’m old and only film existed).)

The other one from this week is the guy with a case of vodka (six, large, maybe 2-liter bottles) and a package of six pairs men’s dress socks. Party, Party, Party.

Also, if you are living with a guy who’s essentially addicted to meat, you really need to shop there or go broke trying to keep him fed. And for the liberal-types who give a shit, I think Costco has a relatively good track record on not offering bargains on the backs of the working poor throughout the world.