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A Message From The Don.. Don Steve That Is.

FNORD....I was advised of this word yesterday.. Regardless of the meaning of this word which apparently "is just weird" or "a reference to weirdness" it is how I feel today. I have a headache, I'm angry at my fuckin parents (due a dispute over the car..Because of lack of communication between my parents and I which ended in me deciding that regardless of my financial fuckedness at the moment within the next 4 weeks I'm going to spend $2500 on a car to get myself from a to b) I'm tired, My skin feels strange..

And the only thing I can blame it on is the blunt I smoked last night. Woah! Driving was difficult after that..

Anyway, Kansas is in some trouble at the moment. Lets all hope that he ends up alright. I figure he will be he just has to "relax" and forget about that retarded fuck that he fell for. Obviously, she was after something that he had but couldn't give to her. And like most women was a blood sucking leech who should be lead into a forest and shot in the back of the head.

So yeah.. I am in a bad mood. I found out that Allan cleaned up on the pokies with only 5 bucks.. I'm talking like $300 here boys. Not a pissy $35 win.. He scored and it makes me angry or jealous as Carlo (the guy who sits next to me at work) says.

I miss the slavegrinder website. I think I'm going to start on the SSFD website over the weekend when I get some time. I'm going to take a digital camera with me this weekend and snap some shots of the glorious gig we're going to play in katoomba which I'm sure will be crappy, with crappy sound and well, just crap.. That is if we CAN play. If I don't have a car we can't play.. Right?

Well.. It's back to work for me.. Back to the old slavery compound.. Enjoy yourselves everyone.

Chocolate Crackles are overrated.

- Austin.

It all started with...

The manager asking me if I"d filled out a job card for a Volvo we'd had in the shop...
Alright, so I had a fucked day yesterday. The manager booked far too much work in. Nor he or the boss turned up till 9:30. This meant I had to deal with customers for that hour and a half. This meant that I couldn't touch a car for an hour and a half. The manager hadn't ordered parts for jobs and generally fucked shit up.

So I had the shits when I came in this morning and I was ready to go skitz. The manager asked me about the job card for the Volvo and I snapped.
"There's no fucking job card because I had to deal with all the customers yesterday morning. I had customers everywhere and you expect me to have time to fuckin fill out a job card?
"I'm just asking if there's a job card for it mate..."
"Fuck your job card! The customer's details are in the fucking book! The fuckin car didn't even get touched yesterday becuase you didn't order the bends for it. You fuckin booked far too much work in, you fucked off at 2 and you expect everything to fuckin run smoothly. We've fuckin got jobs everywhere. We've got five cars downstairs that have been here for weeks that haven't been touched. There's no fuckin organisation in this joint and I'm fuckin sick of it! I'm fuckin sick of working for fuckwits who don't have a fuckin clue what the fuck they're doing. You keep booking jobs in and just let the work pile up. It stresses the fuck out of us and the customers get the shits because their car's here for 6 weeks and it doesn't even get touched. It's fucked. Where's the fuckin common sense and logic? Fuck!!!
"Well who's booking all the work in then? It's not me" The manager says as he tries to get out of my rampage.
"It's your fuckin handwriting in the fucin book!!!"
"Well some of those jobs that came in yesterday weren't booked in"
"What? What wasn't booked in? The Lotus was in the book, the Volvo was in the book, the Lancer was in the book, the fuckin 200 was in the book. They were all in the fuckin book!!
We've got this VL here that's got to have the intercooler and exhaust done on it. Fuck! Whitey's only here for 3 days a week and he spent all day yesterday on other jobs. How the fuck do you expect to get cars out of the shop when you keep booking other work in?" We've got the Daewo here that's got to be finished this week, but instead, you've got this fuckin shitbox 200 here that shouldn't been booked in for three weeks. How the fuck do you expect to get this Daewoo done by the end of the week? It's all about fuckin priorities and they're all fuckin wrong in this fuckin shithole of a shop! We've got this BMW downstairs that hasn't been touched for three weeks. The customer keeps coming in wanting to know when it'll be finished and no one's looking at it because we've got all this other work to do. Fuckin get some organisation in this fuckin joint. Fuck!!! You couldn't run your fuckin finger up your arse!! You don't know what's involved in any of these jobs and that's why we've got too much work on! You're fuckin incompetent."

At this point, I walked away, back to the job I was doing. And the cunt got the shits hardcore. He came back for more at morno and the exhaust dude got on his back as well. We tore strips off the cunt. Fuck it was good. Now he wants to sit down with us all and have us tell him about all the issues we have with the shop. Fuck his list is going to be five pages long.

On another issue, a mate came into the shop yesterday to see how much we want to give him for his intercooler. He was helping me out with a car while I got him a phone number. I turned around to get the number for him and by the time I'd turned back around, he was gone. Turned out the boss went up to him and told him to get out of the shop because he was slowing the workers down. I spend half an hour before work every morning opening up and moving cars and I'm not allowed to spend two minutes talking to a mate? What a fuckin helmet!!!

Ha! Fuck I sorted it today!!!

So I sez to Mabel, I Sez..

YUCATA!!! YUCATAAANNNNNN!!!!!!

1. Don't assume anything until you've talked to a
woman and you KNOW what the result was.

2. Start a conversation, and it's OK to start by saying
something normal like "You look bored".

Fnord.

Where do I start?

Well firstly, Austin's dad has found me a contact for a new job. Work has been fucked and its time to pack it in. I'm ringing that dude first thing Monday to see what he's all about. I've had another job offer, but I'd be working on four wheel drives, I'd be on less money and its only five minutes closer to home.

I've was given ridiculous deadlines twice at work last week. Both these deadlines were given to me halfway through the job. The first one was a Honda who's riceboy owner made an absolute mess of the wiring. Without diagrams, I had to work the wiring out for myself. I was given the hurry up a few times on this job. What the manager doesn't realise is that there's a shitload of thinking involved in this sort of job - and your brain can only tick over at a certain speed. You can't make your brain solve problems quicker. (And if you're thinking chemicals, gas makes this sort of job take longer) Even if someone held a gun to my head, the job wouldn't have been done any faster.

The next one was a Patrol I had to do an engine swap in and convert to EFI. Pull the old motor out, swap all the bits over, fit a fuel pump, wire it up, connect the exhaust etc. I started the job on Wednesday and was told it needed to be done by Friday. This sort of job should normally take a week. I was in at work yesterday finishing it off and was there till 4:00.

I worked till 6 four nights last week, plus an extra four hours of overtime on saturday. That's eight hours of overtime that my fuckwit boss won't pay. And because he underquoted the Patrol, I could only charge out 15 hours labour for the job - I worked on the thing for 25 hours. If I charge out 30 hours of my labour a week, I get a $50 bonus. Why should we be put under such pressure for a job that isn't even worth doing? Its fuckin stupid.

The manager is an absolute tool. The shop is being totally mismanaged. It's a fuckin circus. Chaos if you will. There's no organisation and I see no logic in anything the boss or the manager do. We've got a hoist that's been red ticketed, meaning we aren't allowed to use it, due to it being unsafe. If Work cover comes in and there's a car on the hoist, the shop is in deep shit. And yet, the manager keeps telling us to use it. We refuse, but he still uses it.

On another note, I got a flat tyre this morning and had to put the space saver spare tyre on. It turns the car into death on wheels. It's the weirdest looking tyre I've ever seen.

Stressed Richards