I'm the main character, (it's an autobiography) and my fucking life sucks. Not even a goddam piece-o-pussy since the middle of 2006. (could be a famous line some day) I got fucked over by some aerospace company (ITT, and I hope they fucking read this and try to sue me,) they ruined my career, life was destroyed, lost everything, even had my car stolen, ended up in a homeless shelter. I'm out of the homeless shelter now, but one tiny shred of bad luck and I'll be back in the shelter. By the way, I spent 5 years at a private university, worked my way through school, got school loans, had the loans paid off in 5 years. So the next time you see a homeless person, do something nice for them. Buy them a bottle of liquor. You could end up homeless. Don't think so? Doesn't matter. I know who actually fucked me over. It's called the military-industrial-complex. I didn't do anything wrong. Nothing. I was one of those guys that knew too much. Where it becomes a problem is when you don't realize that you know too much. I was going along fine with my career, doing whatever I had to do, having all the higher ups convinced I was a nitwit to avoid having to get the really complicated assignments. Until one assignment, where I didn't realize I was supposed to be a nitwit, which means not find anything wrong. Long story short, you get fired for something you didn't do, and you can't work again. Not in aerospace. And you might think there's lots of aerospace companies out there, surely someone will hire you. Well, I'll tell you exactly how mow many aerospace companies are out there, I counted them. One. But there's so many signs for all the different companies. All the HR departments are tied into a single database that has a list of people who are not allowed to be hired, under any circumstances, in anything related to aerospace and defense. You're blacklisted. The database is on the Deep Web, that's what I heard, anyway. And the HR people actually talk to each other in a secret code. They can do it right in front of you're face. BTW, if I get my fucking head blown off tonight, it was probably from giving away this little secret. The only reason I know about is because they did it right in front of my face. I was sitting in an HR office waiting to have an interview and I heard these two women talking funny, sounding like parrots, weird cadence, staccato. I looked up at them while they were doing it. They didn't know they stuck out like a sore thumb to a guy like me, expert in pattern recognition, AI, voice cloaking, etc. I didn't recognize the code, could have come out of anywhere, CIA, NSA, Naval Research Lab, I don't know. It's called something about speech encoding within a natural noisy environment, or something like that. Hiding speech in the background conversations. The way it works is, you're a secret agent, if you need to speak to some other secret agent, there's other people around, then you can go to a duck pond, throw out some bread, and while all the ducks are a-quacking, the two of you talk in a Donald Duck voice. People expect to hear a Donald Duck voice at a duck pond. The brain filters everything out as duck noise. The difference in what I heard, and the reason I picked it up instantly, is that, back around 2001, everyones' badge in aerospace was changed such that they all had the words "start date end date" on them. I thought it was strange to have an end date on your badge as a permanent employee, since they don't know your end date. And if you hear the words "start date end date" in the HR department, you won't even notice it, because you expect to hear those words. But when you hear "update-startdate-enddate-check-checkdate-update-check-check-start-datecheck-update-checkdate," that just might be a code. It was unnerving the first time I heard it. The second time, too. It all drops right into normal background conversation. Very few people would even notice it.
But can I prove any of these allegations? Well, I'll take the fifth. But I can write a screenplay. No factching, if you know what I mean. I'm talking to you, CIA. I'm coming after you cocksuckers. (The CIA wasn't involved in anything. The different organizations don't share a lot of information between each other, I just like keep them confused.)
Like I said, my life fucking sucks, talking real life now. I get a pension of $450/month. I live off it. That shit I just wrote up above, it's true. I can't get hired by an aerospace company for the rest of my life. That's a fact. And the excuses you get when they don't hire you are funny. "Yes, that's right, we were going to hire you… but we just found out they sold the whole company this morning, and there's a hiring freeze." I got that one time. Swear to fucking God. Could be a screenplay one day, but not right now. But that part up there, the truth, hyperbole, conjecture, whatever, is the lead-in, or maybe a couple chapters, for this book I have to write. I have to write it because I need the money.
Fortunately, I have this friend that wants to help me get back on my feet. He's just a knucklehead friend from high school, really funny guy, spent one summer working with him one the garbage truck. He knows I've been through some shit and he says I really should write a book. I think it's a perfect idea. I don't have a computer so he sends me a Mac. Now, if I can write this book, something that he really likes, I'll be getting a call from a publisher. My friend's not in publishing. He's never written a book. He just reads lots of book's and has a lot of friends in publishing. I just have to write a book that he likes, and it will be published, that's a fact. He's actually my mentor on this book. I send him stuff and he tells me what part he likes, and what parts I should change. As far as being able to come up with a book that he likes, that should't be a problem. The only problem is that I've never written a book, don't even like to write, don't read novels, and have no formal training. Not completely helpless though, sitcoms were easy for me, had a literary agent. Writing a book is really hard work for me though. That's no surprise, but I also want a best seller. Some people will say writing is an art form, takes talent, pay your dues, learn technique, I just don't want to have to write a second book, unless I feel like it. I just need to come up with a story that appeals to him. Shouldn't be too hard knowing that he came up through Disney system, something like executive creative director for international programing some time ago, so it's probably good to have a happy ending, triumph of the human spirit as he would say. My ending for the book is that I write this book and it gets published (biggest grossing book of all time - not really.)
I have to write this book. There's a big gun to my head saying "just write it," and I'm holding the gun. It'a matter of life and death, it really is, and I can get my life back, maybe even get rich off this. I've started on the story, it's an autobiography, since it's all true (so far.) My friend's not really helping me write the book. There's no brainstorming sessions, he just does a critique on whatever I write. He knows I need to make some money, hopefully something in the millions, which is no big deal to him. Right now I'm wondering whether to include my friend in the story. I guess should ask him. The story I want to tell is that people really suck. Your best friends suck. All of your relative's suck. Your own kids suck. You have no real friends. And that's how it is. This is first hand advice. Think you have friends? Well, you don't. All your friends suck. You think have great friends, they'd give you the shirts off their backs? Don't count on it. Don't bet your life on it. But, if you've got one friend, one real friend in the world, you're lucky. You can survive. And that's the friend I have. He's helping me one more time. I just have to make this into a coherent story. When posting a story, make sure to time your Xanax.