Left this on all the copy machines in my department; it was on every supervisor's desk by noon.

Tired of feeling like a human being?

Want to be treated more like a number?

Welcome to BullShit Insurance Company!*

Systematically destroying employee morale since 2005

No longer do employees have to feel uncomfortable experiencing the excessive freedoms and perks commonly granted to adult employee's in our company's past. We can at long last relax and be the children that we are, since extensive planning and research my our new management team has resolved any need for us to have independent thoughts or actions.

No longer do we have to worry if we are dress appropriately because management has thoughtfully applied a one-size-fits-all dress code policy for us to conform to. And a good thing, too, since many of us were hitherto unaware of the evils (or even definition) of flip-flops. Locked away from the public eye, we were lost in the isolation of our comfy clothes and relaxed attitudes.

Management has even been so considerate as to provide us with rules on what, where, and how to spend our free time. As with clumsy children, we have shown ourselves to be incapable of eating and behaving properly at the "grown up table"; therefore they have removed that burdensome challenge from us. Now we are all one big happy family eating together in that warm, cozy, and fragrant environment known as the break room.

Non smokers rejoice! Smoking has been banned not only from all indoor areas, but even outdoors as well. Talk about progressive! Management graciously provided THE BOX for the convenience of the dozens of social outcasts who continue to foul our air with their loathsome habit. But, should you thing that too generous, don't worry! Since management can't actually condone such a filthy habit, a compromise was made - we won't actually let the smokers sit down! (Just to be thorough, we're not allowing them to walk around, either.)

If one thinks back, one can remember the dark days when you could actually see groups of coworkers sitting at tables eating and smoking, talking and laughing, enjoying their time off together. To further prove our disdain for this disgusting subclass of employee, we have ensured that 8 empty tables are visible right across from the designated smoking area, unused except in the memories and imagination of our marooned smokers. And that's not even counting the half dozen or so forgotten tables within the inner courtyard, all non smoking.

Most of all the new management at BS Insurance* CARES. They care so much that it is now required for employees to leave their desk for breaks and lunch. The 10 minute and 40 minutes sitting in front a computer for personal use are apparently responsible for any workman's comp and ergo issues employees may have been experiencing - not the 7.5 hours of tedious production work as we had previously thought. And the internet: as it turns out, using the internet on breaks and lunch is also too much for our brains and bodies to take. Thank you, sweet mother management - for doing so much to save us from ourselves so consistently and without us even asking. I feel so loved.

*name changed to protect my ass from getting sued.

Oh. My. God.

First, she changes the content for Friday's test on Wednesday:

OOOPS Chapter 4
September 28, 2009 11:57 AM
We skip chapter 4, your next quiz is on chapter 5., Sorry.

I find this lovely announcement Thursday, after I've already read chapter 4. So, I finish reading chapter 5 today and go to take the test, only to login and find this message from ditzbrain:

Mistake regarding Quiz 5!!
October 2, 2009 1:55 PM
Quiz 5 supposed to be posted today, is not posted. I apologize for mistake, something has gone wrong. Anyways Quiz 5 is on Saturday(Oct 3rd) and Sunday( Oct 4th).

Can I kill her now?

This is also the same teacher that had me running to find a computer multiple times at Burning Man because she can't seem to stick to a goddamn consistent time schedule for test times.

Bust my ass to find internet access at Burning Man, of all places, and the broad doesnâ??t even have the decency to give a 24 hour time frame.

Stupid fucking online class has quiz time between 6:00 am and 11:55 pm. What the fuck is wrong with 12:01 to 11:59, huh?

Every week I look, it's a different damn window. Last week I think it was 6:30 am to 11:30 pm.

I am seriously annoyed. Mostly at my school, but increasingly with myself. I should have known better. In fact, I usually do - I usually way over order my classes so that I have some wiggle room to drop the not so great ones. Not this time. This time I enrolled for the minimum 12 full time units - no more, no less.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Now I finally get to see the syllabus for the class I was wanting to ditch anyway, and it turns out this dippy broad doesn't want laptops in her classroom. She's apparently not even a real teacher, but a doctoral candidate, whatever that means. Probably not much, but I don't really care right now. I'm irritated.

All my life I've taken shitty, crappy notes. Or none at all. Note taking is not a skill I easily or ever mastered - until I got a laptop and brought it to school. Immediately my academic retention improved dramatically. I type almost as fast as I think, and about ten times faster than I can write. I can type almost as fast as my teacher can speak, granting me the ability to even listen to what he or she has to say while I jot down the key points to review later. Plus, it doesn't hurt my hand.

Fuck this stupid, ditzy bitch. Just because she's uncomfortable with modern technology doesn't mean others don't derive substantial benefit from it. Hell, I should go to student services and force some bullshit disability issue down their throat over this one, like that I have a brain issue which prevents me from taking coherent notes by hand while maintaining concentration and focus. I'm sure they could find a name for it if they looked hard enough. Because it's true.

This really pisses me off. To compound matters, it's not like I can simply switch classes. The university is over enrolled. They've stopped taking new students and have kicked out all the part time and untenured professors they could. Every class is full and then some. Even the online classes are overbooked. There is simply no room at the inn.

Currently reading a beautifully brilliant essay on 10 reasons why you should never have a religion by Steve Pavlina. I'm quickly growing to be a big fan of his site and writing in general. In this piece, he doesn't attack any one religion in particular but rather questions the effects having one at all has upon one's growth and spiritual development.

Having been raised with more than my fair share of faith and the belief that religion is the single most important thing in life, I find his logic enlightening, comforting, and liberating all at once.

It's a bit long, but the whole thing really is well worth reading from beginning to end if you have the time.

Meanwhile, I've extracted my very favorite bits for your quickie thoughtful pleasure:

1. Spirituality for dummies.

Religion is the off-switch of the human mind.

Classic. Blunt. Beautiful. Couldn't have said it better myself. One could almost wonder if this use of religion is intentional, but Steve doesn't leave anything to wonder but continues on to spell it out in starkest detail.

I especially love section #3, quoted here almost in its entirety:

3. Engineered obedience training.

Religions are authoritarian hierarchies designed to dominate your free will. Theyâ??re power structures that aim to convince you to give away your power for the benefit of those who enjoy dominating people. When you subscribe to a religion, you enroll in a mindless minion training program. Religions donâ??t market themselves as such, but this is essentially how they operate.

Religions are very effective at turning human beings into sheep. Theyâ??re among the most powerful instruments of social conditioning. They operate by eroding your trust in your own intellect, gradually convincing you to put your trust into some external entity, such as a deity, prominent figure, or great book. Of course these instruments are usually controlled by those who administrate the minion training program, but they donâ??t have to be. Simply by convincing you to give your power away to something outside yourself, religion will condition you to be weaker, more docile, and easier to control. Religions actively promote this weakening process as if it were beneficial, commonly branding it with the word faith. What theyâ??re actually promoting is submission.

Religions strive to fill your head with so much nonsense that your only recourse is to bow your head in submission, often quite literally. Get used to spending a lot of time on your knees because acts of submission such as bowing and kneeling are frequently incorporated into religious practice. Canine obedience training uses similar tactics. Now say, â??Yes, Master.â??

Have you ever wondered why religious teachings are invariably mysterious, confusing, and internally incongruent? This is no accident by the way â?? itâ??s quite intentional.

By putting forth confusing and internally conflicting information, your logical mind (i.e. your neocortex) is overwhelmed. You try in vain to integrate such contradictory beliefs, but it canâ??t be done. The net effect is that your logical mind disengages because it canâ??t find a pattern of core truth beneath all the nonsense, so without the help of your neocortex, you devolve to a more primitive (i.e. limbic) mode of thinking. Youâ??re taught that this faith-based approach is a more spiritual and conscious way to live, but in reality itâ??s precisely the opposite. Getting you to distrust your own cerebral cortex actually makes you dumber and easier to manipulate and control. Karl Marx was right when he said, â??Religion is the opiate of the people.â??

I'm not sure if I buy that this is intentional, but there definitely does seem to be a point of no return on puzzling out certain religious inconsistencies and improbabilities.

6. Incest is best.

Religions frequently promote inbred social networks. Youâ??re encouraged to spend more time with people who share the same belief system while disengaging from those with incompatible beliefs.

This us-vs-them prejudice is totally incongruent with conscious living. Itâ??s also downright moronic from a global perspective. But it remains a favored practice of those who pull the strings. When youâ??re taught to distrust other human beings, fear gets a foothold in your consciousness, and you become much easier to control.

When you join a religion, your fellow mind-slaves will help to keep you in line, socially rewarding your continued obedience while punishing your disloyalty. Why do they do this? Itâ??s what theyâ??ve been conditioned to do. Tell your religious friends that youâ??re abandoning their religion because you want to think for yourself for a while, and watch the sparks fly. Suddenly youâ??ve gone from best friend to evil demon. Thereâ??s no greater threat to religious people than to profess your desire to think for yourself.

My dear mother can apparently overlook any and all non conformist behaviors of mine right up until this one. She deeply, deeply wants me to believe in her God. So does my father, for that matter. And I can't. I can believe in what I tend to think of as the philosophical equivalent to God, but it ain't quite the same thing. And they really, really want me to believe in the same thing.

Stalemate.

8. Inherited falsehood.

Even the central figures in major religions didnâ??t follow the religions that were spawned in their names. If they didnâ??t swallow the prevailing â??wisdomâ?? about gods and spiritual leaders and such, why should you? If you want to be more like the people you worship, then follow their lead by striking out on your own.

I always wondered why more people didn't notice this. I think it goes back to point #3 in that trying to make sense of it just shuts down the logical portion of the brain in helpless defeat.

9. Compassion in chains.

When you externalize compassion into a set of rules and laws, what youâ??re left with isnâ??t compassion at all. True compassion is a matter of conscious choice, and that requires the absence of force-backed rules and laws.

The more religious a person becomes, the less compassionate s/he is. The illusion of compassion substitutes for the real thing. Religious people tend to be the most bigoted and non-accepting people on earth. Theyâ??re the least trustworthy and suffer from the grossest character defects. They pretend theyâ??re doing good, but theyâ??re really collaborators in a system designed to push people into unconscious slavery to a â??higherâ?? authority. They are slaves promoting slavery.

Historically speaking, religious people loved to fight each other. Instead of unconditional love, they practice conditional loyalty. The only unconditional aspect is their thirst for blood. If you disagree with them, youâ??re a targetâ?¦ either for conversion or destruction (both of which are really the same thing).

If you value the ideal of unconditional love, you wonâ??t find it in the practice of religion. Real compassion doesnâ??t arise from believing in God, from practicing various rituals, or from studying the concept of karma. Compassion can only result from conscious choice, and this requires the freedom to choose without the threat of punishment or the promise of reward. If youâ??re obedient to your faith, itâ??s a safe bet that compassion is absent from your life. You probably donâ??t even know what real compassion feels like.

I never could quite put my finger on this one. I'm glad to see it spelled out so concisely. I always thought the problem was money, but instead it's self righteous justification based upon isolationist dogma.

10. Faith is fear.

Religion is the systematic marketing of fear.

Religion will teach you to fear being different, to fear standing up for yourself, and to fear being an independent thinker. It will erode your self-trust by explaining why youâ??re unable to successfully manage life on your own terms: You are unworthy. Youâ??re a sinner. Youâ??re unclean. You belong to a lesser caste. Of course the solution is always the same â?? submit to the will of an external authority. Give away your power. Live in fear for the rest of your life, and hope it will all turn out okay in the end.

Those were the highlights. Enjoy the entire article here:

http://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2008/05/10-reasons-you-should-never-have-a-religion

Also reading some of his other articles, billed as self help for smart people or some such:

How to Stop Complaining

10 Reasons You Should Never Get a Job

It annoys me that some drugs are illegal and others aren't. Many of the drugs which are now illegal didn't use to be. They used to give cocaine to teething babies, for fuck's sake. Many of the drugs that are now legal probably ought not to be, especially the ones with side effects worse than the condition they're supposedly treating.

What is the purpose of drugs? The only allowable purpose in this society seems to be for medicine. Getting high doesn't seem to be an acceptable reason to take drugs, although it's certainly a popular one.

But what if your medicine gets you high? Well, that's okay then.

Kind of like the whole kinky sex thing - "normally, I wouldn't do such a thing, but he tied me up and tickled me and then I couldn't control myself and then I had an orgasm in spite of myself". Uh huh. See, in this culture we can do pretty much anything we want, just as long as it doesn't bring pleasure. That brings out the Pleasure Police. If pleasure is an unintended side effect of something constructive, then we can sneak it in. As long as we didn't intentionally seek it out. Because that would be wrong. Kind of like sex.

That's probably why rape fantasies are so popular, as they absolve us of taking responsibility for our own sexual cravings, desire, and release. We can have all the crazy wanton sex we want and then blame it on someone else, ourselves remaining pure and blameless as the driven snow.

Kind of like Rush Limbaugh (or Michael Jackson, or Elvis, or really any pop culture icon that fell afoul of the pharmaceutical path). He wasn't taking drugs. Those were medications. Blame it on the doctor. He didn't know better. None of us ever know better. None of us are capable of using restraint or moderation or self control. We have to cede those things to an outside authority, some all knowing guru who's been to the right schools and been paid by the right pharmaceutical company. And if that authority somehow fails us, there's always the nice folks at the local rehab clinic who will be more than happy to relieve us of all that icky self determination and control.

I suppose the thing that irritates me the most about Mr. Would-you-like-to-fuck-me? is the very question itself.

Enter cluebat. Swing hard.

No, I don't want to fuck you. I don't particularly want to fuck anybody. I want to get fucked.

See, there's two types of people in this world; fuckers and fuckees. Fuckers like to fuck, fuckees like to get fucked. I'm definitely a fuckee.

In gay sex, they call this topping and bottoming, respectively. Fuckers top, fuckees bottom. It's like the natural order of the universe or something. And there's nothing to say that one can't switch and do the other, because sexuality does tend to be fluid, but often there is a clear preference. Mine is extremely clear. I want to be fucked.

That means me on the bottom, you on top. You give, I receive. You pitch, I catch. You move, I moan. Get the point, or should I go on?

When a guy asks me if I want to fuck him, the first thing I think of is that he wants to be fucked in the ass. That would be me fucking him, right? Now in the case of this last fellow, I'm sure he just wants to lay back and have me ride and service his cock like some giggly demented cowgirl. Oh fucking yay. Joy and jazz and all that bullshit.

Again, be still my beating heart.

Nay. No. Nada. Not a chance in hell. One more time for the folks in the back of the room.

I want to be fucked. Me.

Me, me, me, me, me!

Me.

Fuck me.

All my life I've been attracting guys that think because I'm a confident, determined woman that I should be the dominant woman of their dreams, which apparently means that I should be on top. Well, fuck you, your lazy horny ass, and the horse you rode in on. But do it with somebody else's dick, because I just ain't interested. I've been fucking other people for far too long, and it ain't what gets my pussy wet. I need to restore some balance to my personal universe. More dick, please - and make it a double.

It's been in the news lately that women respond to being wanted, to being the object of desire. I can't speak for all women, but this certainly does ring true for me. I want to be wanted. I want to be desired, taken, consumed, and devoured. Obviously lots of guys want that too, and they all look to me to find it. Keep looking buddy - because the first rule here is, once again, me first. Unhappy woman equals no sex drive. No sex drive equals no cookie for you. Not that I don't give out cookies, but my fridge had damn well better be full first. And it ain't.

The balance in my force is way disturbed. I live, play, and work in the kink world. This makes me even more of a target for bottom cravers. Even more loathsome is when they masquerade under the name of "dom". Oh fucking please.

I'm beginning to doubt that any man is ever anything I would consider to be dominant. The general trend tends to be for women to be in control of sex, no matter the surface dynamic. Take me, for example. I'm not particularly into being "dominant", but I want to be fucked the way I want it when I want it. And I prefer to be on the bottom while doing so, with my face in the pillows and my ass in the air.

Is the man who fucks me the way I like to be fucked being dominant because he's on top or submissive because he's giving me what I want? The simple answer is "Who the fuck cares?" as long as he does it, and does it good.

Back to Mr. Real's approach above. "Do you want to fuck me?" is a ludicrous question. What am I, some kind of sex crazed man-eating predator who is so indiscriminate that she needs to harvest new dick from anonymous internet wankers? I think not.

On the other hand, what if his initial query had been something like "I want to fuck you"?

Still crude, still unsolicited, but yet it includes something vital that his actual communication did not.

Interest. In me.

Me, me, me, me, me.

Me.

See the trend?

Fuck me.

Okay, so the fellow from this morning is back. He apparently doesn't remember contacting me six months ago, but I sure remember him. I mean, how can one forget somebody with the word "real" in their name, right?

Despite my less than polite rebuttal:

well I'm trying, thats why I messeged and tried to start a conversation with you and see if there is anything, likes or chemistry at all. I'm new to this site and will work on my profile soon. If you like to see pictures or know more i'd be glad to email you pictures and answer any questions you might have.

Oh - see, I missed that part before. I didn't get that he was trying; that this was like his best shot and shit. Let's rewind to the way he started this conversation one more time.

Hi

Would you like to fuck me?

Damn. And here I missed my shot at that carefully calibrated chemistry test. We could have been made for each other, if only I'd been able to read between the lines and see what a great, sensitive guy he really is. I could just shoot myself. How could I have been so blind?

Meanwhile, here are two other introductory messages from other random strangers on the same site.

hi, just wanted to say that you look amazing

and

ciao...

you are Divine...

it's pleasure for my eyes see you

Does anybody see a difference here? These two gentleman received "thank you" notes, short and sweet. Whereas Mr. Real over here will receive nothing but my laughter, mocking, and undying scorn. Well played, Mr. Dom; well played.

Okay, I've had run-ins with this guy before on another kinky site, but I just had to share the latest exchange before I run off to school.

Some fucking dimbo just called my genius boyfriend a troll. I love it when folks without profile pics use words like that.about 4 hours ago from TweetDeck

I will NOT private message the dimbo to let her know just how far off she is. I will NOT publicly humiliate & abase her...about 4 hours ago from TweetDeck

OMFG! The dimbo not only is missing a profile pic, but she has ZERO friends. Some nerve, calling other people trolls...about 1 hour ago from TweetDeck

Okay, so maybe a LITTLE public humiliation & abasement is in order.Confrontation always leaves me shaky, but that shit needed to be mocked.about 1 hour ago from TweetDeck

Thing is, she was so happy to jump on the troll wagon, and for no good reason. Further research turns out that she is an angry lesbian with some sort of major body and self esteem issues who refuses to even set foot in a room with a camera lest her ugliness be caught on film and recorded for all posterity. Her words, not mine. Well, her sentiment, anyway. Her words are much less well put together.

Wow. I find this so hard to believe. A thread on where to find phone sex hookups spawned this odd tidbit:

"my best success is craigslist with my phone number inserted into the ad i usually find that a phonesex ad gets immediate attention or interest is lost. pics of your hard dick also gets the women to call"

I believe the bits about immediate interest and short attention span on Craigslist and all, but are women really going gaga over dick picks? What fucking world does this guy live in, anyway? The only people I've ever known to appreciate dick pics were guys.

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'm feeling really out of sorts. Every little sound is annoying me, and so is every little person. I'm like one big prickly growly bear. Rawr.

All the things I usually use cannabis to treat seem to be beyond even the miracle of medicinal marijuana at the moment. I'm irritated, and I have this pervasive feeling about me of "just go away and leave me alone". I also have the overwhelming urge to tell somebody to go to hell. Doesn't matter who. Just somebody. Anybody. And maybe a well placed "fuck you" would be nice, too.

Tried to snuggle this morning. Was told he needed to sleep. Well jolly for you. I'm tired too. Talking about going to an outdoor bondage party tonight but not sure if either one of us wants to go. Last year was a tremendous trial. He talks me up and gets me all excited about outdoor bondage and then when we get there, proceeds to make me tie him to a tree and take pictures, micromanaging the whole time. So not fun. I was tired and cranky then, too.

Maybe it's my diet. I haven't had anything green or fresh in weeks. Come to think of it, you can sort of tell I've been depressed by my whole attitude towards the kitchen. Everything I cook lately tastes like crap, to the point where I've had to pour whole pots of food down the drain. The dishes are stacked in the sink with an average sit time of 24 hours plus. Haven't made cookies in over a week. Don't care. Depressed. Getting fat. Working out like crazy but not doing shit. Sore and bloated; what a combination.

Worried about homework. Not getting much done. Spend too much time at Backdrop for far too little money. I don't really make money doing sessions. I mostly just hang out for the experience and companionship. Can't really work my phone lines, either; because there is nothing louder or more distracting than a house full of pro-dommes, even without the clients.

Maybe I just need to get away. I've been living down here full time since last fall. I miss my old friends. I really miss my old lovers. I'm lonely, and feeling like a loose end. I used to have fun. I don't have fun anymore. It's like something has just sucked the life out of me.

All that said, it's probably just PMS. At this rate of insanity, I fully expect my period to start at any moment. Sweet blessed bleeding. How do I spell relief?

m.e.n.s.t.r.u.a.t.e.

(m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e. also works)

One of the local radio stations I listen to in the car is running a "PYT" (pretty young thang) contest. The family who sends in the cutest baby picture wins a trip to London to see Michael Jackson. Now, I'm not exactly the queen of appropriate behavior, but --- are you kidding me?

Who set up this promotion, anyway? If I were a suspicious person, I'd say Michael was trolling.

Dude. When I went to register my domain name, sunshinelove.com wasn't available. Nothing daunted, I went with the handle I've been using since before the world wide web was an irritating wet spot in AOL's pants: sunshinegypsy.

No problem. Domain created. Website built. Mostly. For now. There's always more. and it can always be better. I'm working on it. Constantly.

Then I got to thinking. Maybe sunshinelove.com isn't actually taken, but merely reserved. I put it in my address bar and hit enter.

Yay! It's available. Sort of. Obviously I'm going to have to pay. But how much?

Sent email some days ago. Response received today:

"Thank you for your interest in the domain name, sunshinelove.com. sunshinelove.com is currently valued: $2188"

Are you fucking kidding me?

Wow. I don't think I'll be buying me today, thanks. Yowsa.Where's a good sugar daddy when I need one?

I love guys like this. Who the fuck does he think I am - Domino's? Hot and ready and delivered to your door in under 30 minutes or your session is free? I think not.

Sometimes it's just too easy to shoot guys down. I'm not even going to burden you with the rest of this fella's profile, but let's just say it ain't exactly my cup of tea. The real deal breaker came with his simple set of run-on rules:

"Only have four strict rules cum must always be swallowed, your hair kept long, your pussy hairless finally no orgasming without my permission Other wise your every desire, need, lust, kink, edge or limit are my pleasure."

Sigh.

In order:

1. Swallowing cum does not equal safe sex.
2. No one controls my hair but me, and that might be giving me too much credit.
3. Hairless pussies are for little girls and weird cat collectors.
4. I believe we already covered the whole me not orgasming issue the other day.

Hard limit. Nuff said. Bye bye.