Apparently, not a day will go by for the foreseeable future that Troll and/or Cruise Director aren’t reading my blogs.
OK, Caterwauling is officially offline, but I’m still keeping it handy (there’s just too much good shit in here!). I had a secret site — at Diary-X — until I found the snail trail of the Veggie Patch in the hit counter. Fuckers. As I was already leaving town the next day, I salvaged the entries and shoved ’em into the annals of Chez Caterwaul. Luckily, I had pulled down all but one post about the Veggie Patch. But what the hell — why be nervous? They can’t fire me. I quit THEM.
I did get smart and tossed up an HTACCESS file on my personal website. Never do I even mention the old Club Medicated, unless it is veiled and totally in passing (e.g., “Saw some people who used to know me. They said my new life seems to be agreeing with me.”) And even though I only blocked the main IP at the hellhole on (blah blah) Avenue, I knew they could read it from home. But, as I figured, if you want to read it, then I’m gonna make you work for it.
I never did block Maddie’s site, and it occurred to me that they were all over it. They had a pattern — one machine would visit it, then another machine would (judging from the final numbers of the IP set). Like, Troll hit it and would call Cruise Director and say, “Hey, the bitch blogged. Read it.”
And I have to admit, it has me in absolute hysterics that they read Maddie’s blog. I mean, this isn’t MENSA-level intelligence by any means. “I had the most glorious poop today!” or “I wiped my butt on the rug again and Mommy got mad.”
Well, at some point, I finally started linking instances of “Mommy” to the domain that bears my name. And suddenly, I see the fuckers have circumvented my block and are now freely reading from that shithole. Two days ago, I finally got around to blocking them from Maddie’s site, but I see they blew past that, too, because not only did they show up on Maddie’s Precision Counter, but my Site Meter on the other domain tells me they got to that page by clicking on Maddie’s page.
I’m just pissed off. I expected this, of course, and I am tickled to death that they are going to keep reading, waiting for me to slip up and write something they can sue me over. And that day, my friends, is never going to come. Ever. Those mother-fuck-me-nots can keep reading, and they can still never fire me! HAH!!!
But, I admit, I am tired of this. I have been gone for more than seven weeks. My replacement has already been in place for a week. I did not take the company down with me. I did not have any people quit because I did. I do not fucking talk about them because that part of my life has ended (and happily so). The only thing I hold on to is that I worked really fucking hard and loved that newspaper to death and wanted so badly to branch out and do more work for the company, but all I get is a speed pass to the exit because I had a blog that pissed some people off.
So fuck them. I may be evicted in two weeks (and it’s looking likely, at this point, unless a goddamned miracle occurs), but I don’t have to look at Demure’s mustached face ever again. EVER!
What fucks with my mind even more than how hard I worked (and ended up with nothing) is that they took every single suggestion into account when I left. They got rid of Demure (well, she’s still wasting oxygen there, but they took her away from the Veggie Patch Gazette. Fucking finally!). Cruise Director now oversees the newspaper, and that’s the way it should be. Graphics Gal has more to do with the final design of the paper instead of the editor being the one to ensure that all graphic elements show up in the final product (I didn’t mind that so much, but god forbid if I missed something because I never saw it in the first place). The staff writer is just that — not going to fuss with Gannett and shit like that. Of course, Angie and I made our Gannett runs into a party, but I never, ever saddled her with the sole responsibility the way fuckhead Shawn used to make me deal with things on my own when I was the departmental peon. But, alas, it’s a new reign, and she’s not doing any more than she has to. She’s not driving herself crazy or working herself to death.
That has been another huge change — Cruise Director doesn’t want anyone working past 5. He says if it doesn’t get done, then it doesn’t get done. Fuck it. And he means it — no nights, no weekends, no getting stressed out and hating them.
The exact opposite, in fact, of my reign. I remember being told (or, maybe it was just very strongly implied) that there would be not a minute of interruption to services because of the crisis. Members were not to notice that fuckball had departed. And I so badly wanted his job that I worked myself ragged, I say, to pull it together. And for what? Not for glory. I did get the job, though, but I admit that time probably burned me out for the rest of my career there. Even Angie had that same note of disgust in her voice when she would call to bitch in my absence — that, yeah, it’s all fine and good for them to say go home, but who was going to do the work, then? It still had to get done and certainly couldn’t be put off indefinitely.
I really think they’re reading the blog because, with Shan and I gone, their idea generators have left them high and dry. They don’t have us to solve their problems anymore. Not that they took our suggestions, but it sure seems they are implementing stuff now that we’re not there to take any credit for our obvious solutions or enjoy seeing them be implemented.
Fuck ’em. I just really needed to have a true, bona-fide bitch session tonight. I feel better already!!! I just wish I could have written this on my live site. 😉 Or, even better, revive this bee-yotch and REALLY make them squirm!!!