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 Don't read this!

 Author:  Topic:  Posted:
Mar 23, 2002
Over the past couple months I have been conducting an experiment; I wanted to see how people behaved when they didn't think anyone was watching them.

The results were, to say the least, quite astonishing. And disturbing.


More diaries by heimdall
what does this dream mean?
Please read this...
As part of the experiment, I felt that it was necessary for me to obtain a job in a semi-respectable industry so that I could observe intelligent people in their native habitat. So, I ended up getting a low-ranking position with a company that handles titles (I essentially just organize files and wank off 94% of the time).

To give my coworkers the illusion that I was merely a peon, or an idiot, I made sure to come to work each day with a bland, unstyled haircut, poorly chosen color combinations with my clothes, no cologne, and a partially unshaved face. I have also decided, partially to amuse myself, and partly to see how others react to it, to act like Prince Myshkin of 'The Idiot' (well, I don't make myself go into seizures, but other than that, I like to make myself appear as Christ-like as possible; and no, I don't have any shame at all).

The first week on the job went fairly well, aside from the confusion inherent in learning the ropes and figuring out routines for all the little crap and getting to know what your supervisors and fellow workers like you to do for them.

One chick seemed to have the hots for me but I wasn't really in the mood to get all that cozy with her (I'm 20 years old and I'd rather burn in the deepest, darkest pits of hell than get into a relationship with a single mother). I could've played by the rules but she just wasn't my type; she was an alcoholic and seemed to be on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. I don't need that kind of stress in my life.

Week two went a little better, mainly because I wasted the vast majority of my time tormenting this poor girl by pretending that I was interested in her. It's amazing how you can keep someone's attention for so long without actually sleeping with them.

Anyhow, at this point I had pretty much settled into my job and I got my routines down pat and I was able to do my chores fairly quickly, leaving plenty of time for recreation. I initially started off by being fairly social with the people around me, but when I realized that they all had exceptionally boring lives (do you really think I want to listen to you talk about how you forgot to set your alarm clock or hear you babble endlessly about whatever asinine thing comes across your mind every damn minute?), I decided to take a different approach to things. I started by withdrawing into my own little world, spending less and less time actually talking to fellow workers and more time listening to them talk to each other (or to themselves in some cases).

I learned more about them this way than I did when I was actually conversing with them because they felt the need, for some odd reason, to lie to me all the time despite the fact that I always told them the truth when they asked me questions about my personal life or when I volunteered to cough up information to them. I guess it's not wholly unnatural for people to spew bullshit towards people that they think are less intelligent than them and can't tell a lie from anything else; oh well, it just made it that much easier for me to make their lives miserable.

I remember going up to a girl on the wednesday of the third week and hitting on her. The conversation went something like this:

Me, to girl: "H-how are you, s-s-sweetie?"
Girl: "Uh, I'm good. How are you?"
Me: "I'm just dandy. D-do you w-w-want to c-c-c-come over to my place later to-n-nite and r-r-ride the h-h-h-heimdalltrain?"
Girl: "What?"
Me: "Oh crap...I d-d-d-did it again!"

And then I ran into the restroom. I was so embarrassed by what happened that I couldn't bear to face her the rest of the day. It was terrible.

It wasn't all bad, though...while in the WC I masturbated to thoughts of her naked and got a few loads out onto the toilet seat. In my nervousness and haste, I ran out without cleaning up after myself; in retrospect, I think that might have been a mistake, but nothing has come of it, so I'm pretty sure that nothing bad will happen to me (aside from the possibility of spending an eternity in hell for spiting Jesus).

Weeks four and five were pretty boring, but I did have the pleasure of making the acquaintance of four Jewish girls who enjoyed ridiculing me in Yiddish, apparently thinking that I couldn't understand what they were saying. How typical of Jews.

Week six went a bit better, but not really. I met a rather cute girl who was about 4 inches shorter than me, petite, brown-haired, and Slavic-looking (well, at least she wasn't a mexican or a negro), and I went through my typical routine of fumbling around and making myself look like a fool. I asked her for her "ph-ph-phone numberrr", and naturally, she gave me a fake one. I can't exactly say that I was surprised, but it was slightly disappointing nonetheless.

Anyhow, she seemed to enjoy fucking with my head and pretending that she was/is interested in me (she's still doing this). It felt kinda weird having someone play my own tricks on me but I went along with it anyhow. On the plus side, she doesn't seem to be all that bothered by my looking at her ass or breasts all the time (I can always play the mental retardation card if she gets suspicious anyhow, so no worries there). Sometimes I'll gaze lovingly at her crotch and fantasize about dumping a few gallons of my hot manseed inside of her tummy.

And then there was the previous week which was pretty boring in and of itself; nothing interesting happened at all, aside from my getting to watch this chick fail at advancing herself up the corporate ladder (the guy she was trying to impress kept ridiculing her attempts). And she somehow got it into her bright mind to try bleaching her hair herself; she came into work with the top of her head orange and the lower half of her hair was brown (I guess nobody ever told her why brunettes shouldn't attempt that).

Mmmmmm...I want to get her pregnant. =)

And, uh, I guess that's it. Or something.



Sir, (5.00 / 1) (#1)
by elenchos on Sun Mar 24th, 2002 at 01:37:03 AM PST
Your ideas intrigue me.

Please subsrcribe me... er, no... please be advised that I would like to bear your child.

Thank you.

Yours sincerely,

I do, I do, I do
--Bikini Kill

Nice (5.00 / 1) (#2)
by Shinkansen on Sun Mar 24th, 2002 at 07:38:15 AM PST
I'm going to have to say Heimdall, you are doing a magnificant job with this, as it appears from the text. Here are some suggestions that I have come up with for a quick escape:

I. You always can work the seizure into somthing.
a.) "So, I saw you the other day talking to some woman, what happened to your studder?"
b.) "H-how c-c-could you th-think that was m-me!?" (show a little offense and become shakey)
a.) "Well he looked exactly like you and he was wearing clothing you would wear."
b.) Make up some excuse on why that would not be you. I couldn't really do this seeing that I don't
know you.(You could say you had a psychologist appt for this guy(?))
a.) "Oh... well he really looked like you."
B.) re-itterate your point, shaking more, etc... can you make your face turn really red?
a.) "are you ok?"
b.) drop out into an all out seizure, or run to the bathroom crying/screaming

I promise nobody will bother you again.
You could also just masturbate in your office area? (this might get you fired, but people will definitely leave you alone... AND you still have the mental retardation card on that...

I would use these in real disasters, but I don't think you will get there.

Well played.


Because 30,000 burning nuns can't be wrong...

That works wonders... (3.33 / 3) (#3)
by Bad English on Sun Mar 24th, 2002 at 01:30:14 PM PST
You'd be amazed how many times playing retarded or faking epilepsy has gotten people I know out of jams. My friends and I had this acquaintance who had trouble with ladies. We were at a bar and we convinced him to go up to this attractive woman and get her number. So he went and apparently asked her for her number. We could hear her response from the other side of the bar, "Give my number to an ape like you?! Never!" This answer caused our friend Lenny to break down and cry, and then fall to the floor in convulsions. We had a good laugh and went over him, who was still on the floor shaking, to congratulate him on completely freaking out that bitch. However, after about thirty seconds of joking and telling him that it was ok to get up, we suddenly remembered that Lenny was, in fact, both retarded and prone to seizures.

When I was in the 7th grade... (none / 0) (#7)
by heimdall on Sun Mar 24th, 2002 at 05:51:37 PM PST
and some kids were picking on me, I would occasionally make a huge scene and embarrass them.

If Jenny thought that it would be amusing to make me feel like a fool, I'd start shaking and I'd cry, or I'd start bleating like a goat and asking the teacher to punish her.
Needless to say, most people didn't pick on me much after getting such responses from me (well, at least to my face anyhow, but that's all that really matters).

Sure, there were probably other ways to handle the situations, but nothing leaves a bigger scar on people than being humiliated in public. And I don't really have any shame, so it didn't bother me much; and it still doesn't.

The moral of the story?
Don't pick on people who are willing to sacrifice their dignity to make you look like a fool.

Is this a wise use of time? (none / 0) (#4)
by jvance on Sun Mar 24th, 2002 at 01:39:25 PM PST
You do realize that your time on Earth is short and dwindling. Is this how you want to be spending it?

Of course, if I followed my own advice, I'd be finishing off Plato's Republic instead of posting here.

Plato - the troll archetype.
Adequacy has turned into a cesspool consisting of ... blubbering, superstitious fools arguing with smug, pseudointellectual assholes. -AR

Play-doh. (none / 0) (#5)
by derek3000 on Sun Mar 24th, 2002 at 03:08:17 PM PST
My next door neighbor was a Lunix zealot, believe it or not. We used to hang out every Wednesday night and sometimes we would get into arguments and stuff. He would always make the most inane arguments, and when I called him on it, he would bring up Plato. One night I got sick of this, and set him up for the big fall--I told him that he was no Plato. In so many words.

Yeah...So, how are things at home?

"Feel me when I bring it!" --Gay Jamie

Home Life (5.00 / 1) (#9)
by jvance on Mon Mar 25th, 2002 at 12:13:45 AM PST
Yeah well, he ain't no Plato, and I'm discovering that I ain't no Tim Taylor.

When the office bedroom light is on, the doorbell doesn't work. If we put a flourescent bulb in, it won't turn off, but instead flickers dimly. Unless you ring the doorbell, in which case it comes on full brightness. It must have been like this when we moved in, but nobody noticed it until now. So I get to crawl through R-40+ blown-in fiberglass insulation in the attic and correct the wiring to the doorbell transformer. Joy. I think I'll just disconnect it and go buy a wireless model.

Well, you asked, right?
Adequacy has turned into a cesspool consisting of ... blubbering, superstitious fools arguing with smug, pseudointellectual assholes. -AR

Ah, yes. (none / 0) (#10)
by derek3000 on Mon Mar 25th, 2002 at 05:58:40 AM PST
The domestication of hu-mans. By the way, Plato boy is having the time of his life in New Zealand. I am in Philadelphia scrounging up money for a measly one-week trip to Europe. And considering the Merchant Marines.

"Feel me when I bring it!" --Gay Jamie

More (none / 0) (#11)
by jvance on Mon Mar 25th, 2002 at 11:03:42 AM PST
My grandfather served in the Royal Merchant Marines in WWII. It'd be a cool way to see the world and save up money, I imagine.

Turns out the doorbell transformer primary is bridging the switch. That's what I thought was happening, but the light's flickering confused me until someone here at work explained that the transformer leaks a little current when the secondary circuit is open. It all fits now. I should be able to fix it by moving one connection in the junction box, no attic crawling required.

If you never hear from me again, you'll know I was wrong.
Adequacy has turned into a cesspool consisting of ... blubbering, superstitious fools arguing with smug, pseudointellectual assholes. -AR

Doorbell transformers? (none / 0) (#12)
by because it isnt on Mon Mar 25th, 2002 at 11:19:02 AM PST
You have a wierd house. Every doorbell I've ever known has been battery powered, and no more than 40 feet from the door. -- because it isn't

Wireless (none / 0) (#13)
by jvance on Mon Mar 25th, 2002 at 11:32:27 AM PST
I may just disconnect, install a wireless and be done with it. You can still buy powered doorbells here. They come with a (stepdown to) 24 volt transformer. It's the only way to go if you want a real "ding dong" bell instead of a synthesized bellish sound through a speaker.
Adequacy has turned into a cesspool consisting of ... blubbering, superstitious fools arguing with smug, pseudointellectual assholes. -AR

Actually... (none / 0) (#15)
by because it isnt on Tue Mar 26th, 2002 at 01:52:40 AM PST
My gran has a real chiming doorbell. 9 volts from 4 (beefy) batteries. Mind you, she has a bungalow. I doubt you'd hear it all over a big house. -- because it isn't

yes, it is. (none / 0) (#6)
by heimdall on Sun Mar 24th, 2002 at 05:40:03 PM PST
Of course, if I followed my own advice, I'd be finishing off Plato's Republic instead of posting here.

Plato - the troll archetype.

I read that 'Republic' book 3 years ago and while I did find it a little intellectually stimulating, I felt that in the end, it didn't really do anything for me. I mean, what did I really learn from it?

I can't think of anything...

I wasted about a week doing nothing but mental masturbation when I could have been jerking off to all the free pornography that's available on the internet. :)

I spent three years as a Philosphy Major (5.00 / 1) (#8)
by Anonymous Reader on Sun Mar 24th, 2002 at 07:13:26 PM PST
and in that time, I encountered no words so true as those in the parent post.

--Anonymous Reader #24601

You know how they say... (none / 0) (#14)
by poltroon on Mon Mar 25th, 2002 at 07:51:38 PM PST
you can't really understand something by reading it just once. So it's no surprise that you haven't learned anything. Try again.

Wonderful (none / 0) (#16)
by Anonymous Reader on Tue Mar 26th, 2002 at 07:14:44 PM PST
I always enjoy reading diaries written by some arrogant pseudo-intellectual. You will make an excellent addition to the Adequacy readership.


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