framework & fretwork


just t he f/acts

para//ax e

margin all i a

Erroneously, I thought Paul's dramatic reach only extended to the parameters of theater and commercials where women are scripted to line up to be swept off their feet for him, not total world domination of each and every one AS his stage. As such, it seemed Paul was more focused on the delivery and flair for drama than his problem solving capability in service of the job in front of him, and in fact, the location of the very time/space coordinates of the job site he occupied and "purposefully" didn't, at the same time, and yet he "dramatically" questioned my commitment to the work, while not lifting a little finger, which is all it would take, to fix the trim board's position in front of him and thus his emotions, if it really vexed him "so entirely so." Paul was indeed going on like a little "woman" and blaming me with insufferable emotion, considering the context i.e. the Why? that was doubly-deflected thru-out his thunderous scene-stealing pummellogue (as the real problem with the "problem" is that the new guy didn't know better and the trim board ended on the bottom of the pile, because Ryan put the old decking that was coming off and being thrown away on top of it, and as the G.C. on the job site, Paul, should have overseen the macro to the micro to his liking, which, by the way, is entirely different than to his "liking." 

But the real problem with the real Real "problem" is that it wasn't inherently a problem!  Well, the problem wasn't a problem. Paul trumped it up to make a better show of SUPERPAUL! for Ryan, by trying to make a stooge of me/ by trying to make me eat the merit of my work with no sustaining reward in and of myself, by attempting to force me to innocuously? accept the insult of his willy-nilly and nefarious, and truth-be-told, narcissistic and far-reaching "blame" that he also demanded that I apologize for. If I were a man, I would "apologize" by force feeding my upper-cut fist into his mouth, forcibly enough that I didn't get cut by his teeth, but pushed them straight down his gullet. I may ask him then, "How do you like those apples?" in response to the subtext of his whole-hearted "asking" me how his "it" is going down: It's not. Or it might just register after pummeling his face inside out, and I wouldn't have to ask, "Can You Hear Me, NOW?" ... "Can You See Me, NOW?" … "Don't bother talking to me NOW because I don't want to hear anything you have to say, and that is apparent BECAUSE I MADE IT THAT WAY!" 

But the raw deal is, Paul wouldn't pull that shit with a man, (not that he couldn't provoke, but he Would get pummeled, and It Would Show), (and besides, he is more likely to be in better Standing among men in his clime, by being a thriving weenie / among men!), as he has an image to protect to impress the ladies that are easy to sweep off their feet,  as well as his curious Standing among men (that may be infringing on his "territory), (in which he Dramatically puffs up in between the space of the next guy, so it doesn't appear as if he is actually leaning on the next guy in order to stand STOCK upright on his "own"… Together)... Which I don't get, but can you "honestly" Blame me? I have nothing to do with Paul being a weak bobble-head of a man that picks an emotionally fueled "mental" fight with a woman in order to strain with gestures of self-made ease in paraplegepilepsy to make her apparently dependent upon the whims of his outright convicted emotions in which he feels no remorse for at least desiring to capitalize on the opportunity to double-shat Universally in one Glorious sitting,  while simultaneously bearing the highest hallmark of True Manhood & Genius In Living A Broad with all its "protective" measures VIRTUALLY in tact -Across The Board-, so that the indiscriminate She can apparently earn a Living via his Gracious Gifted Generosity, of dare I say, "Thinking"…of Her … and (ominously) Others by virtual association, and "visa-versa," because he cannot firstly impress her with his limitless charismatic guile… and abominably administered, cheese-puff chested mind of "Know-How" --?--  hidden treasure not included.

I have not mentioned what it is like to work for Paul from the position of astute platonic friendship. It is like a nurse abating a torrential braying donkey that thinks its god! GODDAMNIT! berating you from its beastly point of reference for not being everywhere in its beastly braying mind at once, while throwing its "big" floppy donkey dick around for good and solid conversational measure to let you know he has a reluctantly softer side that is "free" to pet (and assuage its open mealy-mouth fears, (because it's actually a turd hung out to dry)). You know, I saw bits of this rearing its head in previous job sites, as Paul withered me in the name of "safety" as in he was "concerned" to let his caring hag fire rage and run more wild than a potential careless omission in my understanding on the job site , and the time he thought I didn't have a box knife... and he went into a full PMS cycle of indignities about my not having a box knife on me causing him a full PMS cycle of indignities, all without the aid of a Vagina! Mind you! And I just decided in all this withering unto fatigue, I would rather let him wear the PMS out on himself than say that I put the box knife in my woodshop apron, as I do many things outside of working with Paul, and did not put the box knife in my tool belt that I was wearing that day, and that I could easily fetch the box knife from my woodshop apron which was a few paces away. I just let him BRAY! Or the time, among many, that he wants me to fetch a hand tool, a skill saw, a cat's paw, a nail, not that nail, help him with this, go back to what I was doing, What AM I doing?, move these beams and carry them on my shoulder 150m to his truck, repeat, and repeat, get a power cord, not that power cord, get an extension cord, wrap it this way, listen to him BRAY! about a previous friend-for-hire, and then the one before that, get the ladder, broom, handle, clean this, lay this, drill this, wrong drill, needs a battery, in the truck, get this shit out of here, stack it there, bring it over here, get his star bit… And I stop what ever he had me doing previously to now find what he wants. His mindfulness deceives himself sometimes, as I couldn't find the star bit, much to Paul's incessant BRAYING GODDAMNIT!, and he hastily came over to assist me in seeing for himself that I was a numb chuck, and the fact of the matter is, he didn't put the star bit back into the box of star bit screws, where they should be, and where he said they were. Did I mention, there never was even a murmur of an apology from this Almighty Braying Jack Ass?

All things considered which I have not detailed better half of the half, I have held myself in reservation thinking this was a fluke in Paul's behavior as he is known for, a presumably upright persona, as a Model (?) and an Actor (upside down question mark inserted here) in the public arena, as I tried to do my best to alleviate his frustration on the job site, by consistently showing up and working concertedly and spending MY TIME outside of work to strategize the scope of the work with him, as well as with your project, understanding that he needed someone to converse and verse the work strategy, and lacked that in the evidence of the number of people he has run thru in apparently managing his self-sustaining enterprise. Additionally, of all the union endorsed breaks I should have had in this line of work, I worked thru 99% of them and Paul has never said a word of inclination (that they should be paid) otherwise. The fact of the matter is, that in an 8 hr day of work, I am being gipped of half an hour pay, that is already underrated per the hourly wage Paul deemed "Fit" to pay me, which wage I am not sure was determined because he didn't know he should be charging his customers more for my value, or that they shouldn't have to pay because he sure as hell wasn't! 

That is the basic checks-and-balances difference between working for Paul and working for a business that is at least placating to the political interests of its employees and the wider sphere of the community it orients. Ironic that Paul is so profoundly and notably political about apparently thinking of others as it is at the top of his conversational conjecture, re his Drone Project Enactment (to sign up to Apparently not be a drone! or was it To Be Or Not To Be surveyed by drones? or was it a call to like-minded people to ACT NOW! Don't Delay! Be A Drone Surveyer ToDAY!) (I mean, he may as well put himself on the top of his own spotlighted ledger!) Seriously! And Its all for Freaking show! And, I don't rate for him to put on a good show, to ACT upright and follow thru, because I frankly do not care about his ACTING. Need I say it again, to make the circle complete: It's All For SHOW! … The reality is that the fluke has measured up to be an fUGLY Character Flaw, and he is still holding onto my money (for my work, my good work, my hard work, that got barraged upon for being remorselessly concerted and conscientious every step of the way, far before I crossed Humpty-Dumpty paths with the strict protocols of THE MASTER Impersonator) and ACTING UP, by sending me emails that I am "Withholding" From Him! (and now by contacting you to do his "work," he has transferred the ownership of my right to you, for "temporary" keeping*). (*There is nothing temporary about it, as "is" my right to exist upright will always be kept from me as will yours vis a vis Paul's "arrangement").

Truth be told, I am withholding :( I am withholding the fact Paul is pompously trying to subjugate me to his "Authority" as if I still worked for him, and must abide by his donkey-kicks theatrics, <<<Would Somebody Kindly Tell The Court Jester Appointed Court Jester That He Can Take A Break!>>> that he is projecting on me that I am "Untrustworthy" as His sound (His sound surprising goes without saying re As reason, to apparently keep his "sound" Honor & Merit holistically "safe" among me) Honor and Merit, that he has simulcast (in which I presumably had nothing to do with moving him in this direction:)* in order to presumably retain for himself and detain from me (my Honor and Merit as Trustworthy indeed, and as sneakily need be), because I walked off His job site (because he treated me abominably), while he does not even remotely consider, in the Plethora of Opportunity Manifest -- Past Present & Future Perfect Tense, he is actually On My Job Site, as we speak, IT'S RIGHT UNDER MY FEET. There is a strong sense of "ownership" in Paul's actions of no action to address the issue at hand, which he places out of sight. So let me place it in front of you: The issue at hand is a matter of ownership, of the land, where The Land once meant the People that lived upon it (and inherently, it still stands to reason). In effect, Paul wants my land in which I Stand, because it is valuable, and what he has to lose if he can't claim it from me, is Apparently Everything He Is, but in actually isn't, (which would then naturally be afforded to me ((in reality (((and I am already doing my Happy Dance at the ((((discovery!)))) The heart of the matter of the issue at hand is, he disrespects women that are not beneath him and how he really feels about women is that all of them are. (So, don't sign up to be his, colloquially speaking, dipshit-in-residence, unless you Apparently have too …)

Angela Cook <> June 9, 2013 3:29pm To: *...

i think you are supposed to be judas in my play. but a new and improved judas. more details later.

Angela Cook <> June 10, 2013 3:18pm To: *nexus

Can we meet, please? When and where?

Angela Cook <> June 11, 2013 8:51pm To: *Sir Rich

Once, I signed up to work at a cross-country ski resort near Grand Marias, Minnesota. After the plane flew into the Duluth airport, which is the size of cockpit, I was meant to take a bus to the resort location. I got on the first bus I saw and sat down, and then started smiling, because it was a bus full of guys my age, and me! I sat there for almost 15 mins, smiling, waiting for the bus to leave. Come to find out, is was a hockey team, and it was there bus.

Once, in high school, a mouse ran up the pants leg of my corduroys. It got to the top of my thigh inside my pants in no time, and I started doing a wacky dance to get it out. When the mouse fell out and ran away, I decided that I wanted a pet mouse (but not in my pant leg) so I chased it thru the study hall that was empty after school. The mouse went under a pair of double doors that I had never been thru before. Without hesitation, I depressed the lever of both doors to open them with a simultaneous crash so that I could follow the mouse, and lo and behold, this was a back entrance to the men's locker room, and the football team was in the middle of changing their clothes. Looking at the football team in the state of undress, I asked if anyone had seen a mouse!

Once, I got a 4.0 for the first time, and I was glowing in the reflection of my report card as I reached for the handrail to go up the school stairs, and inserted my finger far into a guys nostril sitting on the stairs. He said "Oh, Great!" I don't think it really was. …

Do ever think that you cannot prepare what to say in advance or anticipation of all of life's nose picking gestures. I guess you just have know yourself and hope it is great.


on my bike, at the wood shop, roller blading

Angela Cook <> June 12, 2013 7:16pm To: *Photos from Jun 12, 2013

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