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So, you turned the big 18 in the last four years, Congratulations.  Along with all of the other wonderful responsibilities of being a legal adult, you get slapped with the exciting opportunity to figure out who to vote for.  What political party do you want at the helm when this country nose dives into the ground?  Is there such a thing as “the lesser of two evils”?  Decisions, decisions.  I’ve decided to put together this brief post, to maybe give you a basic idea of what your choices are.

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Three explorers were traveling deep in an African jungle when they were captured by a tribe of wild headhunters.  After taking them back to the village, the chief approaches the first explorer.

“Death or Umba Gumba?” asks the chief.  The first explorer thinks that anything must be better than death, so he chooses, “Umba Gumba.”  The chief turns to his tribe and signals them.  All of the males in the tribe jump on the first explorer, ripping off his clothes and violently raping and sodomizing him for almost three hours.  When they are finished, the explorer is battered and broken, but he is still alive.

The chief approaches the second explorer.  “Death or Umba Gumba?” asks the chief.  The second explorer thinks that Umba Gumba looked pretty bad, but still it must be better than death, so he chooses, “Umba Gumba.”  The chief turns to his tribe and signals them.  All of the males in the tribe jump on the second explorer, ripping off his clothes and violently raping and sodomizing him for almost three hours.  When they are finished, the explorer is battered and broken, but he is still alive.

The chief approaches the third explorer.  “Death or Umba Gumba?” asks the chief.  The third explorer says (rather boldly) “There’s no way in hell a tribe of wild headhunters is gonna do that shit to me, I CHOSE DEATH!!!”  The chief pauses a moment and scratches his chin.  He turns to his tribe and raises his hands over his head and shouts, “DEATH….  by Umba Gumba!!!”

The moral of this story???  When you step into that voting booth come November, you need to be thinking “Death or Umba Gumba?”

Let me start this post by stating that I am a weak and struggling Christian.  I try to avoid church because a lot of preachers scare me, about half the time that I am praying, it’s only because I need something, and the worst part about it all, is that many of the villains in my life have been “devout Christians”.  I am WEAK, WEAK, WEAK, but I still believe.

A little more than a year ago, I got a job that I thought was supposed to be a good deal, an answer to a prayer.  I was quick to learn that things were not as they seemed, that there is very regular lying and cheating and stealing from the government, and it is very difficult to prove.  I thought that if I just turned a blind eye to it and did what I was supposed to do, that maybe I could still make a relatively successful career out of it, or at least get a foot in the door to move on elsewhere.  It didn’t turn out that way.  After spending a year enduring humiliation and harassment because I would not bend to my manager’s ill will, I finally complained to his supervisor.  The harassment just got worse.  I complained to the state governing authority, and the harassment got even worse.  The harassment has become so intense that I was certain I was at the end of my rope. 

This morning, when I went to bed (I work night shifts), I prayed harder than I have prayed in a long time, for God to get me out of this mess, or at least to give me some sort of sign as to what I should do.  Tonight, when I went to work, my boss came up there, drunk as usual, for the sole purpose of starting an altercation with me.  It got pretty heated, and I ended up telling him that ‘if you would put down that beer bottle long enough to have a sober conversation, you might understand that I am NEVER going to lie and cheat for you”.  He ended up so aggravated that he fired me.  God gives me the strangest answers.

I have set up a secure Paypal account for donations, in hopes that I can raise enough money to go home and open an awesome Hobby shop.  Maybe God will give me an answer there to, or at least one that I can understand.

A little more than a year ago, when I took this job, I was led to believe that the “adjustments” made to our reports were something that would be a very rare occasion, and on those occasions, those “adjustments” would be for consistency issues and would not be effecting how we were paid.

I had my first bad vibe(s) on my first day, when my trainer couldn’t pronounce or even define “bituminous”, one of the key elements of hot asphalt.  He made the day worse by starting every lesson with “Don’t let D.O.T. see you do it like this.”  (D.O.T. = Department of Transportation)

So anyway, here I am a year later.  The very rare occasion for adjustments appears to actually be every chance they can.  The consistency issues are very specifically part of how we get paid.  I am considered the “black sheep” and “not a team player” because I will not lie or cheat on my results.  My immediate supervisor is a terrible drunk and he works pretty hard to make my life miserable.

One of the craziest things about this whole situation, is the fact that with a skilled plant operator, the lying and cheating are typically not necessary.  My boss recently told Plant Operator “A” that I liked Plant Operator “B” better, because I will lie for him.  The reality of that statement is I like Plant Operator “B” better, because he knows how to run the plant, he makes a good, consistent mix, and lying for him is simply not necessary.

So, Anyway, after that longer than intended intro, if you are curious as to how the asphalt industry can be just as criminal as any bank robber, you can… (read more)

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