Every industry has them: the old fart. I never thought I'd find myself in that position, but I can't deny facts.
As I was driving along, summarizing a comedy of errors, and thinking of how too many involved were what I consider woefully prepared for their position, I realized I was one of the old farts of the local construction industry. Out of thousands of workers, there are only a few like me; somewhere around 40 years experience, tired of the bullshit, and not as willing to pull miracles out of their asses each day to cover the inexperience of others.
So, I accept my position and growing apathy. I don't want an award, or anything else. What I want is a big bosom secretary, in a short skirt, to ride along with me all day and keep my coffee cup full.
Sexist? Damn straight. Being an old fart entitles me to be a dirty old man.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.