Mad Bastards

Well, the world continues to revolve at 7.27 x 10^-5 radians a second (a circle has 2pi radians, the earth's circumference is 24,900 miles, so figure it out yourself, you lazy bastards), and I am here marking time while the mill tries to fish out the 3 cones lost off the drilling bit. Driller here is a little, uh, spun up, so he got aggressive with the weight on bit last night. Good guy, but always seems pissed. Fuck it, the guy gave me a respite, so he's aces in this dirty Jew's book (fine Chad, half-Jew, you fucking cocksucka!). Doing the actual job is quite a bit more stressful, but oddly more satisfying. After my tower was done, my fat ass went over to the motor man's trailer (he brings his own) and hung out with him and these 2 chick he brought over. This is a fucking rarity, chicks on (thought technically not "on-site") site are sort of rock stars on a 1/400th scale, in that everyone wants to be near them. Todd, the motor man, is cool. He does too many drugs, drinks too much whiskey, smokes too many Marlboro reds, and curses like a sailor fucked another sailor, had a kid, and that kid married a truck driver, and they had a kid. Yah, that kid. But he is an honest mutha fucka, and that goes a hell of a long way in my book. And, despite his worst intentions, is a good dude with a rough life. Todd reminds me of Ronny on "Run Ronny Run!," but not the Hollywood version, the actual one. Missing 2 front teeth, no shirt on half the time, loud as all get out, and like Chad, no filter. And it is fucking great. Anyway, these 2 gals were pulling the "mother-daughter routine," but seemed pretty cool, just looking for a bit of fun in this placid universe. If they were looking for interesting, they sure found it. The rig is a place of personality if there ever was one. As I hung in the trailer doing things I shouldn't be (like I give a fuck), a procession of roughnecks came on by. Leo is this huge black dude, a rarity in this good ol' boy world, and after this line of wells, he's out for good. He has a fishing tour business out in Victoria, about 50-60 miles outside of Corpus, and will take you and 4 others out all day for $450. The man is a champion fisher, sporting various shirts the envy of all lesser fishers, and knows all the hot-spots where even lesser fishermen, like myself, can catch all day long. Sounds like a road trip to me.

Ricky, or whatever the fuck his name is, is a 26 year-old roughneck who has the confidence of a bullfighter. In his words: "I ain't ugly, I make good money, and I'm a fun guy." I get the feeling he's trying a bit to hard to come of as cool, but then again, everyone measures their dick once in a while. When he boldly entered the trailer, he announced "where's the pussy? I need to fuck!" After concurring with his assessment of 18 year old women, I was jokingly asked to leave by Todd. But, seriously, this job, with it's non-user friendly 24-7 philosophy, does not allow for me to receive any warm body next to me at night or the morning. And, it is killing me, a lot alot. Finding time to jerk off is near impossible, and I almost jumped at Dave's offer to take up the "mom" in the deal. But work and a healthy fear of herpes kept these pants buckled, thank God. Also her ran roughshod sandpaper face didn't secure the necessary mechanics of the deal. The General needs stimulus!

Dave, by the way, walked in on his wife with their neighbor, an ex-cop, and subsequently lost his place, his car, and his kids because of this woman, who never had a job the entire time he was with her. Gotta love people.

Cold tots await me back in the trailer. Oh, anyone want to go to Vegas on the 20th for a few days? Chad? Dolph? Abi? Jesus? I am going for sure.

Lots of Love,

reeder