This office has all the privacy of a glass-faced cutaway beehive. bah.

ugh, tired of security cameras.

Racist cabbie this morning, put a mild damper on my good mood. I hate talking to idiots. He knew I do “computer stuff”, so he was asking me how to set up an online radio / TV show from his house so he can spread his imbecilic nazi-like views. I told him that he could probably find the information he wanted on the internet. (That’s actually more help than I wanted to give… I didn’t give him any links or anything… just told him to try the ‘net.)

My biggest problem with this guy in particular was that he couldn’t pick up on my cues that I don’t share his beliefs. No, I don’t think the “Massive Jewish Conspiracy” controls the media, and even if they did, people have the power to turn off the TV. Please. When I say things like “I’m trying to read, here” take the hint, and shut your hole. I’m normally a very polite guy, and that was the nicest thing I could think to say… but it didn’t shut him up. I think he suffers from a need to hear his own voice aloud confirming his opinions, on the off chance a conversation hook will lull someone into either debating his unchangeable mind, or some mutual back-patting if he finds some other racist to agree with him. (Chupa prattles on and on at work, just to hear her own voice, too. I look forward to the door between our offices being shut, lowering a cone of silence over her gibbering tongue.) At least the cabbie didn’t have me confined next to the Chupa nose-death combination of BO, stale cigs, and bad breath. What does she eat to emit that stench?

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