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	<title>tastybun</title>
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	<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com</link>
	<description>the brain spews forth an alternate unreality</description>
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		<title>project ark 2</title>
		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=23</link>
		<comments>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=23#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 02 Jun 2010 13:00:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[blatherance]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=23</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[It&#8217;s been a quiet few weeks. Every time I think I may have something to do other than put my feet up it&#8217;s just a false alarm, just a &#8216;you&#8217;ve got mail&#8217; chime in the dark. I keep telling them that I can&#8217;t re-number people until I know approximately where they&#8217;re going and they keep [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>It&#8217;s been a quiet few weeks. Every time I think I may have something to do other than put my feet up it&#8217;s just a false alarm, just a &#8216;you&#8217;ve got mail&#8217; chime in the dark. I keep telling them that I can&#8217;t re-number people until I know approximately where they&#8217;re going and they keep telling me that they&#8217;ll find out. Whatever, I&#8217;m getting paid for nothing, no harm no foul. At least I can get some reading done.<br />
&#8211;<br />
Huh.. looks like them upstairs have gotten their act together.. almost in time to slap something together before the move kicks in. Well, at least I can number those lucky enough to be deemed numbered. That is, if the numbers are a good thing.. I&#8217;m still not sure. Oh well, money talks. I got going on the more important crowd first.. that is, those who were bleating the loudest. Turns out it&#8217;s not so bad if you just switch off and get things done. I&#8217;ve always said thinking just gets in the way of work, it&#8217;s gotta be one or the other. Then out of the blue I get a visit from someone. Must be a new guy, coming down and introducing himself like this. Turns out they forgot about 600 people and have to find them a home somewhere other than The Ark. Some are to be Helped, some are sent up North.. I lost track of the rest. Out of sight, out of mind anyway. More mindless numbering and alterations for me, more bleating to ignore or.. quieten. At least I should have something to do this week..</p>
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		<item>
		<title>project ark</title>
		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=21</link>
		<comments>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=21#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 29 Mar 2010 11:33:33 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[blatherance]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=21</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[It was a quiet evening in my office. Work was slow, and nothing was happening on the internet. Suddenly a theme from an obscure video game you never played rang out. It was my phone. Turns out a friend had recommended me for a job, one that suited my area of expertise. I agreed to [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>It was a quiet evening in my office. Work was slow, and nothing was happening on the internet. Suddenly a theme from an obscure video game you never played rang out. It was my phone. Turns out a friend had recommended me for a job, one that suited my area of expertise. I agreed to meet with his contact, at a shadowy cafe nearby. My coffee was black and a little burnt, but I got the feeling that this was the best on offer in the vicinity. Something about the fact that this place actually had some other people in it. Either that or I was about to be cornered into doing something distasteful, I couldn&#8217;t tell which. Alls the guy said was that some people were being moved from one place to another and they needed my help to to make the transition as smooth as possible. I wasn&#8217;t too sure about it, but given the other patrons of the cafe were still listening a little too closely for comfort I decided to accept for now and see where it lead me. Turns out it lead me to an old building just behind where we had met.</p>
<p>I found out a little more about this project. Project Ark, they call it. On the surface it was just people being moved from The Citadel and The Saint to a something called The Ark, but it turned out to me more complicated than that. Partly due to the disorder of the current locations and partly because of the lack of planning from those who were supposed to be in charge. I could see that I was going to be pulled in beyond what I had originally anticipated, but given who these people are and how much they knew I knew, I decided that I&#8217;d be better off staying put and quietly riding this thing out. Also, the pay was better than anything I&#8217;d had in a long while and I wanted some new wheels. I&#8217;d originally figured on an easy time of just seeing where people ended up in The Ark (if they were somewhere I could find them anyway) and making sure they could do what they were told to, but it&#8217;s turning out that no one knows yet where anyone is going to end up and time is running out to sort it out. They keep looking at me with a look that says I&#8217;m going to end up with the task of putting people places, even though I&#8217;ve little idea what the current arrangement is and whether there&#8217;s anyone at all that has the vaguest idea of a general plan. Maybe I can just shove em all in and lock the door behind them.. I get the feeling that those in charge wouldn&#8217;t mind too much, as long as they can&#8217;t hear the screaming&#8230;</p>
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		<title>a trifle disconcerting</title>
		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=18</link>
		<comments>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=18#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 27 Jan 2010 03:29:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[blatherance]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=18</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Last night I found myself downstairs, out in the carpark for my building. Naked. No idea how I got there, now idea what time it was, no idea how to get back inside because all the doors lock closed. First things first, I tore apart a phone book I found and used it to provide [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Last night I found myself downstairs, out in the carpark for my building. Naked. No idea how I got there, now idea what time it was, no idea how to get back inside because all the doors lock closed. First things first, I tore apart a phone book I found and used it to provide some modesty. As I pondered options &#8211; walk to a friend&#8217;s place and attempt to wake him, attempt to break in, wait outside a door and hope someone leaves &#8211; I wandered about the place and found that someone had left their washing up on the line. Grateful for the opportunity I borrow some shorts and retired the phonebook. There was also a first floor window open so I decided to climb up and consider the possibility of wandering through someone else&#8217;s place to get back inside. Unfortunately there were two people and a small dog sleeping just inside the window, so I quickly abandoned that idea. I decided that I&#8217;d have a go at forcing the somewhat dodgy front door.. but it turns out it&#8217;s not as dodgy as I had hoped. Luckily just as I gave up on that, someone left so I got back in. Also nice is that my apartment&#8217;s door won&#8217;t close without the keys, so I could get back in, get changed and return the shorts I had borrowed. Turns out it was about 4:30am at that point. All in all, it was a disconcerting experience.. not one I wish to repeat any time soon.</p>
<p>No stars.</p>
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		<title>watching, waiting&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=16</link>
		<comments>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=16#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 22 Dec 2009 14:34:42 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[blatherance]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=16</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Sometimes as I wander about I get the feeling that the people seeing me know something about me I don&#8217;t. I&#8217;m not sure what it may be, but they look at me and either have a funny look or seem outright amused at something. I&#8217;ve grown to believe that I may be the subject of [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Sometimes as I wander about I get the feeling that the people seeing me know something about me I don&#8217;t. I&#8217;m not sure what it may be, but they look at me and either have a funny look or seem outright amused at something. I&#8217;ve grown to believe that I may be the subject of some sort of an experiment. I&#8217;m not sure what about my environment is being controlled though.. maybe I&#8217;m being deprived of something, maybe I&#8217;m just being broadcast 24/7 and the people know all sorts of things about me that they probably shouldn&#8217;t. Alls I know is people find something about the sight of me amusing or interesting.</p>
<p>It may just be that I look funny though. The bright green headphones I sometimes wear and stupid floppy hair I have may account mostly for that. Not sure. I&#8217;d probably be amused if I saw me out/about though.. &#8216;Still,&#8217; I&#8217;d think, &#8216;It&#8217;s good they let him out of the institution though.. better than being couped up all day.&#8217;</p>
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		<item>
		<title>alarming</title>
		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=14</link>
		<comments>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=14#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 03 Aug 2009 13:31:08 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[absurdities]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blatherance]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=14</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I found recently that I was setting off car alarms just by walking past them. At first it was a little disconcerting, but I got used to it pretty shortly. What was weirder was when I was wandering past street lamps and they&#8217;d flicker out. At first it was just the odd one.. then more [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I found recently that I was setting off car alarms just by walking past them. At first it was a little disconcerting, but I got used to it pretty shortly. What was weirder was when I was wandering past street lamps and they&#8217;d flicker out. At first it was just the odd one.. then more and more until I was wandering about at night in a roving pool of alarms and darkness. They&#8217;d turn back on behind me again too, about where the car alarms would stop. Soon I noticed that I stopped seeing people about at nights. I guess they could hear me coming or something. Shortly afterwards I noticed that not only were the car alarms going off, the doors would unlock as well. They&#8217;d pop open as I got near and lock again after I&#8217;d passed. The best thing though was when it happened to houses. For one thing, I never had to take my keys with me anymore. Also I have a really nice television now..</p>
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		<item>
		<title>charitable contributions</title>
		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=13</link>
		<comments>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=13#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 22 Jun 2009 06:24:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[blatherance]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=13</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;Hi, I&#8217;m raising money for the children, please think of the children!&#8221; &#8220;Sorry, no can do, conflict of interest.&#8221; Copious weeping. &#8220;Howso?&#8221; &#8220;It conflicts with the fact that I have no interest in helping you. Good day.&#8221;]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>&#8220;Hi, I&#8217;m raising money for the children, please think of the children!&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Sorry, no can do, conflict of interest.&#8221;</p>
<p>Copious weeping. &#8220;Howso?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;It conflicts with the fact that I have no interest in helping you. Good day.&#8221;</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		</item>
		<item>
		<title>accuracy</title>
		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=11</link>
		<comments>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=11#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 18 Jun 2009 05:20:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[absurdities]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=11</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[To whom it may concern. I am writing today to propose a clarification on the accepted hand gesture for &#8216;a bit&#8217;. The gesture in question is when one holds up one&#8217;s hand with the thumb and index finger held a small distance apart. I propose that the distance between the digits be set at 14.4mm. [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>To whom it may concern. I am writing today to propose a clarification on the accepted hand gesture for &#8216;a bit&#8217;. The gesture in question is when one holds up one&#8217;s hand with the thumb and index finger held a small distance apart. I propose that the distance between the digits be set at 14.4mm. The reason behind this is that this is the difference between the accepted rule of thumb metric conversion of 1 yard (900mm) a conversion that is a bit more accurate (914.4mm). It seems a minimal difference between an inch being 25mm and 25.4mm, but that rounding really makes a difference when lengths converted are increased. I feel that regulating this will assist the public at large to make everyday life more accurate and efficient. I shall be looking forward to the ensuing parliamentry debate.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<item>
		<title>TGIF</title>
		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=9</link>
		<comments>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=9#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2009 05:19:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[blatherance]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=9</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Stephen always hated Fridays. There was always too much work to do and too little week to fit it in. Reports had to be read, critiqued, and sent back the minions who&#8217;d messed them up, bosses had to be placated, time off had to be denied, sick leave had to be challenged, new recruits had [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Stephen always hated Fridays. There was always too much work to do and too little week to fit it in. Reports had to be read, critiqued, and sent back the minions who&#8217;d messed them up, bosses had to be placated, time off had to be denied, sick leave had to be challenged, new recruits had to be whipped into shape and old hands needed to be reminded who&#8217;s boss. Then they&#8217;d would be cajoling him for an early finish to the day so they could meet friends down at the pub.. at 4:30! Stephen couldn&#8217;t work out why they thought they&#8217;d earned that half hour off early, none of them ever came into start work early. It&#8217;s not like they put any considerable effort in above and beyond the call of duty, as he liked to put it. &#8220;Why if I could, I&#8217;d hold you all back for an hour longer I would, just to teach you a lesson!&#8221; he was often heard to be saying. His team had little recourse to complain; in these tough economic times, it does little good to annoy the person able to get rid of you in the next round of downsizing. All in all, it was a fairly miserable working environment&#8230; except for Stephen. He liked it quiet, in his view a quiet workplace was an industrious workplace. All was well in his world.</p>
<p>One Tuesday evening, Stephen was quietly allocating his team&#8217;s workload for remainder of the week. &#8220;I&#8217;m sure Sue won&#8217;t mind staying back an extra couple of hours on Thursday.. he says that Bobby needs picking up from day care, but that can wait. Oh, and Bill won&#8217;t mind a teleconference at 7:00 on Wednesday night, his mother can reschedule that dinner they were planning. Her birthday comes again next year anyway assuming she beats that cancer, and if she doesn&#8217;t then it won&#8217;t matter anyway.&#8221; Shortly after, Stephen heard a strange sound coming from his kitchen. He got up to investigate and found a very odd looking being there.. it seemed a strange mixture of beings all moulded into one; part spotty late teen, part business attired wanker, and part miscellaneous slag&#8230; with a feww suspiscious looking stains down the front of its clothes. Rather confused (and mildly repulsed), Stephen asked &#8220;Who are you?&#8221; &#8220;I am The Ghost of Fridays past&#8221; said the odd being, its speech slurred a little bit. &#8220;I am here to guide you through a flashback montage that may be extended on the DVD release.&#8221; Stephen was a little puzzled by this.. surely the BluRay release would have the extra footage..but decided to tag along anyway. The team&#8217;s workload was allocated, and there was nothing good on the television. The being beckoned Stephen into the hall, from which a lot of noise was coming&#8230;</p>
<p>Stephen rounded the corner and found himself in a rather dingy looking pub. He saw a younger version of himself in the corner, surrounded by his high school mates who were all very drunk and very rowdy. There was also a group of girls from the neighbouring school close by, being enticed over by his mates. Stephen saw himself attempting to extract himself from the group, claiming he had an exam to go study for. The strange being that had brought Stephen here mumbled &#8220;You could have gotten laid that night you know, Becky there was really into you.&#8221; &#8220;Maybe..&#8221; said Stephen, &#8220;but I really did have to study for that exam..&#8221; &#8220;Meh, who needs exams.. you never got into the uni course you wanted anyway.&#8221; Stephen quietly pondered this for a moment, before he realised the strange being was beckoning him back into the hallway. He followed, and found himself back in his kitchen. The being was gone. A little peturbed by the strange turn of events, Stephen went to bed. He had strange dreams about youthful indiscretions that never happened, and tafe courses he never took.</p>
<p>The next day passed pretty quickly for Stephen, though he kept musing about friday nights he never went on and what may have been. That evening as it was watching TV, everything went dark.. handily, there wasn&#8217;t anything good on anyway. Stephen got up to try and find a torch or something to see by, but just as he was cracking his shin on his coffee table, the lights came back on. As stephen was swearing at his coffee table, he noticed a man standing on the other side of the room. He seemed a nice chap, wearing fairly casual looking business attire.. Stephen pegged him as being the manager of a branch office somewhere. &#8220;Come,&#8221; said the managerial type chap, &#8220;Lets grab a drink.&#8221; stephen numbly followed the chap out of the living room and found himself in a bustling pub. He saw his team sitting around a table nursing drinks looking glum and worn out, seemingly out of place in jovial nature of the rest of the patrons. One of them, a young man named Sam who Stephen liked to push hard in an attempt to see how he would handle pressure, raised his glasses and said &#8220;To Stephen&#8230;&#8221; (Stephen puffed up his chest an felt proud) &#8220;&#8230; a right royal bastard of a boss!&#8221; As Stephen stood slightly shocked, the rest of his team all raised their glasses and muttered phrases far too rude for this timeslot. &#8220;He made me skip my son&#8217;s graduation ceremony!&#8221; &#8220;He told me I had to come in, even though I could barely walk without fainting from the pain!&#8221; &#8220;He gave me a normal workload to do while I went on that cruise!&#8221; &#8220;Bastard!&#8221; &#8220;Arsehole!&#8221; &#8220;Son of a bitch!&#8221; As stephen watched, mouth agape, the managerial looking chap murmered &#8220;I don&#8217;t think they like you very much&#8230;&#8221; Stephen stammered &#8220;But.. but.. the work has to get done! They have to pull their weight!&#8221; &#8220;A happy workforce is a productive workforce, Stephen. Resentful workers will just find excuses not to get things done.&#8221; As Stephen considered this advice, he noticed the managerial chap disappearing through the door in the back of the pub. He followed after him and found himself back in his living room, power back on and television chattering away. There was still nothing good on.</p>
<p>At work the following day, Stephen studied his team more closely. He noticed some looking at facebook when they thought he wasn&#8217;t looking, and something called twitter kept making fleeting visits to various team members&#8217; screens. When he requested status updates from people there were many excuses as to why things hadn&#8217;t been done yet, but not much progress seemed to be made on anything. He noticed his team seemed a bit sluggish and out of sorts.. well, more than usual.. so he popped into the kitchen and saw they appeared to be out of coffee. At first he considered sending a note around to let everyone know they were out of coffee so they needn&#8217;t bother getting up to try and make one, but they he recalled the advice from the previous night.. so instead he sent a note over to the office manager to let her know they needed more. He received a rather snippy response back stating that she knows, she&#8217;s been made well aware from everyone else in the office complaining about it, and if he really wants a coffee then he&#8217;ll just have chat to his team leader and pop downstairs to the cafe to get one. Stephen wondered why no one had asked him about going down there.. but then recalled that he always refused such frivolous requests. Surely they could wait until their allocated lunch break&#8230;</p>
<p>That evening, Stephen was musing over the strange occurances that had been occuring. Suddenly a severe looking man in a sharp edges suit wandered into the room holding a clipboard. He looked at Stephen and motioned for him to follow. Stephen got up and followed the officious looking man out of the room, only to come across a scene that looked like his office, but had the names of one of their biggest competitors being hung up around the place. It looked like they had been taken over and absorbed into the larger corporation. He saw himself looking upset, being spoken to by a lady who looked suspisciously like an HR person. &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry Stephen, but you just don&#8217;t seem to fit into the environment we want to foster around here. Your team all seem to be dejected and some of them said some rather unflattering things about you in the surveys we sent out.&#8221; &#8220;But.. but.. I can change! I&#8217;ll allow coffee breaks! I&#8217;ll.. I&#8217;ll.. not make them stay late so much.. I&#8217;ll let them participate in casual fridays.. please!&#8221; &#8220;I&#8217;m sorry Stephen, but we just don&#8217;t require your services anymore. Your stuff will be available to collect at the front desk.&#8221; Stephen couldn&#8217;t believe it, they would fire him? After all his strong leadership? He wandered back into his living room and settled into his comfy chair and mused upon what he had seen over the past few days. He considered what it would be like to work for himself and what he knew of peoples&#8217; opinions of him and decided that maybe he was being a little tough on his team. The more he thought about it the more upset he became, until he fell into a restless sleep on his chair.</p>
<p>The following morning Stephen almost ran into his office. He asked the secretary &#8220;What day is this?!&#8221; &#8220;Why it&#8217;s friday, the greatest day of the week, when we can take off from work early, go down to the pub, get drunk and try to pick up!&#8221; Relieved, Stephen strode into his office and got to work. The morning went as usual, though the team noticed that Stephen seemed to smile knowingly to himself at times. They were all concerned it meant something terrible like having to work over the weekend, or go on some terrible &#8216;team building&#8217; retreat. At 1:00 Stephen gathered his team together, on the pretence of having important news. &#8220;Team, I know you&#8217;ve been working hard lately, so I thought we should do something to unwind.&#8221; Before the ensuing groan could arise from the team, Stephen continued. &#8220;Let&#8217;s go down to the pub. Lunch is on me!&#8221; The team paused for a moment to see if this was some kind of a trap. Sue quietly said &#8220;But I have a report that needs doing.. you said it needs to be done by today.&#8221; &#8220;Aww, that&#8217;s ok, it can wait.&#8221; said Stephen. &#8220;Why do today what you can put off until monday!&#8221; A great cheer went up, and the team headed off down to the pub. There they stayed, drinking and carousing until after midnight when it was decided that it was kebab time. Stephen stood up, wobbling a bit, and while gesturing wildly with his kebab slurred &#8220;I love youse all, every one!&#8221;</p>
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		<item>
		<title>stamps</title>
		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=8</link>
		<comments>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=8#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 21 May 2009 14:35:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[blatherance]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[A while ago I started a movement to have flavoured postage stamps, back when you still had to lick them. It was a bit limited at first, just vanilla, mint and original, but we added more in based on feedback from the punters. It was just a local thing to start with, but we were [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>A while ago I started a movement to have flavoured postage stamps, back when you still had to lick them. It was a bit limited at first, just vanilla, mint and original, but we added more in based on feedback from the punters. It was just a local thing to start with, but we were gaining momentum pretty fast. The best thing about it was that people were finding the time in their days to write people letters, or even just paying bills by post. It was so nice to sit down and open a bunch of letters in the evening, pull out the quill and craft replies to people. There were a few missteps.. I&#8217;m not sure how pickled onion became a flavour of the month and the radish experiments were just weird, but on the whole they were pretty successful. Unfortunately it became a victim of its own success.. we ended up having to put a call out for volunteer postmen to cater for the large increase in mail load. That pretty much killed the negotiations for a national rollout of them, the national postage company didn&#8217;t want to risk the additional costs involved with upgrading all the systems and workforces to cope with the load. In the end we had to stop doing it locally too.. it was just too much.</p>
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		<link>http://tastybun.nastybun.com/?p=4</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 19 May 2009 12:31:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>tastybun</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[blatherance]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I came home today to find my couch missing. Nothing else, just my couch. The doors were locked, the windows all intact, the roof in place.. just one less couch than there used to be, four divots in the carpet a reminder of what once was. In its place was a book I thought I&#8217;d [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I came home today to find my couch missing. Nothing else, just my couch. The doors were locked, the windows all intact, the roof in place.. just one less couch than there used to be, four divots in the carpet a reminder of what once was. In its place was a book I thought I&#8217;d lost, a strangely large amount of hair and dust, and $20. I&#8217;m not sure if the $20 is some sort of repayment for the couch.. I can&#8217;t remember losing it, but it looks like it may have been there a while. Still, if it is a repayment, I guess I&#8217;m kind of $20 up.. I found that couch on the side of the road many years ago, abandoned but comfy. When I awoke on it that morning I wasn&#8217;t really sure where I was.. just that I was badly hungover and it was a really nice place to sleep. I ended up finding a supermarket not too far away, borrowing a trolley and getting it home that way.. though that took the rest of the day, as I had to wander about until I found something I recognised. Once I got it home I slept on it every night for a week. I liked that couch. I&#8217;ve been sitting on the floor where it was for a while now, but it&#8217;s just not the same.. and it&#8217;s dustier. Still, I guess I can finish this book now&#8230;</p>
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