I had a friend who interviewed with the Secret Service. I was her narc buddy.
Allyson, I think your introspection is proof you're not losing it completely. Part of the long road in depression is figuring out what the triggers and when you're starting to slide so you can reach out. You do that and that's a big step.
Oh, Colts, Foster's injury looks BAAAAAAD. Like Theismann bad.
I was a Narc Buddy for a friend who applied (and got into) US AID.
I found a photo of my best hit from our roller derby mixer last weekend. I took out the jammer in a brief moment of glory during our tough loss to the Ninja Kittens.
Ninja Kittens! That is a good name.
Cash, you look FIERCE there, in the original sense of the word.
My favorite part of the questionnaire is the one asking about the employee's emotional/mental stability and behavior and conduct.
Feynman wouldn't have been able to work at JPL.
The drug use questions would have prevented Parsons from working there, and he founded JPL, while stoned on peyote lighting rocket fuel in the desert. He died blowing himself up in his garage after some Alister Crowley orgy.
And Scalia said it was absurd that someone high on marijuana could look through hubble.
Does he think hubble is on the ground where someone could get cheetos powdered cheese fingerprints on the lens? Asshat.
I'm still pissed about it.
Scalia is one person who could benefit from a fattie. What a douche.
I just think, if I'm not working on clearance level shit, get off my nut. I don't work in or near any secure shit. In exchange for money, I push paperwork around a desk. Our contract as employer/employee is now fulfilled. You don't get to ask my friends if I might like to eat pussy with teh gays from time to time as a condition of employment. That's fucking absurd. And it all flows from the patriot act.