The Last One

And with this arrival, my collection is complete. 

There are other records that National Geographic has put out, but this is the last of the American themed ones.  Hopefully, this weekend, I can get my record player out and listen to all of them. 

In other news, Stalker was out of sorts all day today. Out at the plant, they've decided to try once again to open up a third shift -- because the first five times worked out so well.  Anyway, they brought back an old supervisor to run it.  Old as in  "worked here before", not old as in aged. 

Yesterday, he came around and was speaking to all the employees he'd known when he was there before.  Except me.  He walked over and gave me a hug. 

When Stalker found out, he was livid.

He spent all day today stomping up and down behind me.  You could almost hear him growling like an angry bear.  Shortly after lunch, things only got worse.

Now, let me preface this by saying, I've known The Boss Who Must Not Be Named for a long time.  I even taught his kid in karate, way back when I was still in karate.  He was my friend before he was my boss, and no matter how bossy he gets, there will always be an element of friendship there.

This afternoon, along about 1:00, TBWMNBN was heading upstairs to his office.  He glanced over towards the sub-brazing department, and I smiled.  No big deal, right?  It shouldn't have been...but Stalker saw it.

He parked his behind behind me for the rest of the day.  Every time I put a header down, he'd run over and snatch it up, peering at it as if he were hoping to find something wrong.  Every once in a while, he'd wander over and look at someone else's headers, but it was perfectly clear -- to everyone -- that he was trying to intimidate me.

I just laughed at him.  It's going to take a whole lot more than a pathetic loser like him glowering at me to intimidate me.  I put him out of my mind, and took my imaginary boyfriend alligator hunting.  Only not really hunting, because we had no intention of killing one.  But I wanted to show a Cornish man a real dragon, so we went and found some. 

He asked if they breathe fire.  I said, "Nope...but the ants do."  And I showed him a fire ant bed.  And a trash panda.  And ..."[Unwholesome word!]  Cottonmouth!"  Heh, you should have seen our old, fat butts trying to run!  After all that, ain't no way Stalker is going to intimidate me with a few dirty looks. 

OK, enough of that.  Here is your Texas History lesson for today.  Day three of the Siege.



Now, I'm headed for bed.  To dream of dragons and knights in battle tested armor.