There's Trouble A Brewin..............

I’d LIKE to talk about a lot of things this week.  LIKE being the operative word.  I’d like to talk about this new book I’m reading, and how it’s stretching, strengthening and toning my mind in ways my mind has never been worked before.  But I can’t do that.  I’d like to talk about a date I was recently on, or at least I thought it was a date, but apparently it was just an extendo booty call of sorts, and how I feel about it, since I was (am) actually kind of fond of  this chick.   But I can’t do that either.  I’d like to share a couple of stories from the bus, as this week was exceedingly cold, and people were most definitely in a “mood” which always leads to great fodder, or how I went to No Frills, and got ripped a new one by the cashier because I didn’t get the toilet paper that was on sale, or maybe give my thoughts on the NFL playoffs thus far, maybe even a prediction or two, but no, I can’t get into any of that this week.  This week I can’t talk about any of the things I want to talk about, because something has come up that desperately needs to be aired out and addressed.  For once and for all, ramifications all be damned.  What I need to go in on this week, is a common enemy you and I both share.  A man that sticks his head where it doesn’t belong time and time again.  A man who thinks he is very much larger than the entity itself.  A man that goes out of his way to make life hell for your favorite blogger, limiting and hampering the very creative juices that make this blog not only a destination on the internet, but in a lot of cases THE destination on the internet for some 400 plus readers a week.  A man, that through whatever limited role he plays, seems to think that without himself, you and I would be without as well, thinks he is a spoke in the wheel, as opposed to the pothole that that wheel actually roles over, and thinks that he is the reason we all gather around our computers, tablets and phones every week to come together and revel in what can only be considered as ground breaking, earth shattering, hell raising, sun moon and stars type written offerings.  Who is this man you ask?  Well it’s no other then The Executive Producer of the BusDrivaChronicles himself of course.

Now it’s no secret trouble has been brewing around here for some time.  You needed go further than the pages of this very blog itself to find out how not only him, but that whole damn production team treats me around here.  They all seem to forget, I’m the personality in this, not them.  Not them with their little iPad’s, and their Android phones, and their stupid Bluetooth things hanging out of their ears, running around and making lots of money and shit.  No one cares about any of that crap, or maybe they do, but they sure as hell don’t when I have something to say, that’s for damn sure.  People come to this blog for ME.  Period.  No comma, no exception, they come for ME.  So why is it that I get the mop closet of an office?  Why is it I don’t get invited out to play mini golf?  Do I need to trade in my BlackBerry, get one of those stupid ear pieces and wear tight pants so that I can go to that queer ass deli they all go to for lunch every damn day?  Maybe they all need to learn a thing or two about supply and demand.  Because without me, what they have left over to supply sure as shit isn’t being demanded anywhere I know of. 
So this is what happened, and I’ll be the first to admit, the spark that set off this raging war was somewhat petty.  But in all its pettiness is revealed just how deep the waters of anger really are.  We all know I don’t go down to the office very often, but the other day they were filling out brackets for the NFL playoffs, and any time a guy like me gets to fill out brackets with a bunch of computer geeks, all I can think about is “easy money”. So I went down there.  As I’m there filling out my sheets he sees me and asks me to “step in his office, for a brief word”.  That’s never a good thing, right?  So I go in and he says “shut the door please”.  The only time I close doors is when I go to sleep, other than that I’m an open door kind of guy, so I refuse.  He says fine.  Then he asks me if I got his email the other day.  The email in question was a bitch move entirely.  He sent me an email at 4 in the morning with tips on how I should improve MY blog.  Not his blog, MY blog.  I said “yeah I got it, and…….”    He says, “Well why didn’t you respond?”  So I go on to explain that at the time I got the email I was in the middle of reading an extensive philosophical essay titled “The Finger and The Moon” that basically explains in detail the confusion people endure whilst trying to follow a religion, or religions for that matter, mired in contradictions and inconsistencies, and how they usually end up just being lead with little to no understanding of said religion at all.  He didn’t care.  He says again “Why didn’t you respond?” I said “Meat head, I WAS READING!!!!”  Well that didn’t go over to good, and we got to yelling.  In fact we were going back and forth so hard and so loud that everyone in the entire office was standing around the open office door hanging on to every word, wondering if punches were about to be thrown.  And I mean everyone. The whole team, the receptionists, the cleaning crew, and even the guy who fills the pop machine were standing by in anticipation.  It was almost Mayweather Pacquiao in there.  Finally, the repair guy, who happened to be there to fix the sauna, and who just happens to be about twice the size of both of us put together came in and broke it up.  Not because he cared, but because Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance” came on the radio, and he couldn’t hear it over our screaming.  Good thing for the Executive Producer that the repair guy likes his Whitney Houston because I was ready to lay a beating on him too.

My Side of The Story
There are a handful of things that he has done, is doing, and apparently will continue to do that drive me up the wall, show complete disrespect and display nothing but abuse of (alleged) power on a regular basis.  I’m going to list just three of these situations, so you can better understand exactly what kind of shit it is I have to put up with regularly around this dump.

                                                            Business Cards and Coffee Mugs
-How long have you and I been doing this for now? About 5 months or so, right?  When we first started this thing I told him I wanted some business cards made up, for promotional purposes (and for picking up chicks of course), he said “that’s a good idea, I’m on it.”  Fast forward to present day, still no business cards.  Whenever I bring it up to him, he gives me some song and dance about how they are “re-branding the parent company” and once they get that sorted out my business cards will become a priority.  Excuse me, but what the fuck does the parent company have to do with my blog?  I don’t want anything on these cards except the www, the email address and the twitter name.  Don’t water my shit down with whatever else you have on the go, we are here to promote me, not you’re other endeavors.  It’s all about pecking order here, and I’m the driving force behind everything else you have in the works, or at least that’s what I was told when I signed my contract to do this damn thing in the first place.

-On the plane back from Cancun in November, I took briefs periods off from day dreaming about San Fran, so I could brainstorm ways to make the blog a little more special, perhaps a Christmas promotion of some sort.  When I got off the plane I immediately called him to find out where my limo was, because whenever a celebrity gets off a plane there is supposed to be a limo waiting for him (apparently this guy doesn’t watch Entourage), and after he tells me to call a cab, and no I’m allowed to expense it, I tell him my idea.  For Christmas I wanted to do a promo where the first 12 people who emailed me with a blog topic got a BusDrivaChronicles coffee mug.  I would then take the 12 people’s ideas, and the first week of every month for all of 2012 would be “The People’s Choice” post’s.  Bringing the title “the people’s blogger” to heights previously unimaginable.  Do you remember hearing me announce that contest?  No you don’t.  Do you want to know why?  Because I’m still waiting on my fucking coffee mugs, that’s why.
                                                                            Twitter/Facebook

-One of the things he is always on my ass about is tweeting.  We get emails daily begging, pleading even, for me to tweet more.  Well, here’s the skinny on that folks, a long time ago I told him I wanted one of those verified checks beside my name, so that the people would know it is in fact me they are following and not some knock off imposter just posing to be the BusDriva.  He said he will look into it.  Now I’m no fool and I’ve fallen for that before, so I took a stand.  If there is one thing the Executive Producer hates, it’s Facebook.  He and Zuckerburg have some history, and although he has never fully told anyone the story, speculation around the water cooler is that he was a forefather of Facebook Canada, but left due to creative indifference.  That comes as no shock to anyone, does it?  So in retaliation for him not taking my request seriously, until I get a verified check beside my Twitter name, I decided that I will just use Facebook for my updates and thoughts, which I like better anyway for 2 reasons. One because sometimes my wit and creativity just can’t be contained in 120 characters, and two, because he hates it.

                                                                           If I Ruled The World
-In the early part of December I did a post titled “If I Ruled the World”, and yes, it’s about as good as you are thinking it will be, maybe even better in fact.  Since it’s somewhat controversial, and my contractual obligation states “any controversial posts must be submitted and cleared by both the legal department and the public relations department before being released”, I submitted it for approval.  It’s been over a month now.  How long does it take to rubber stamp that bitch in two cubicles, and give it the green light?  This post could very well go on to become the biggest and best post in blogging history, it could dwarf “It”, and even knock the “Shit That Annoys Me” trilogy right out of the water.  And after my Rob Ford post, how could anything I submit possibly get held up by red tape?  This is either censorship in its purest form, or its one man purposely holding another man down, for no other reason than resentfulness.  I’m starting to think “If I Ruled the World” will become to me, what the “Detox” album has become to Dr. Dre.  Highly, HIGHLY anticipated, but never released.  And that’s just downright unacceptable.

His Side of The Story
Fuck him.  Who the hell cares.

Ramifications
The bottom line here folks is respect.  That’s all I or anyone else could ever ask for.  Yet I’m not getting it.  Why I’m not getting it, I have no idea.  All I do around here is pour blood, sweat and tears into this blog week after endless week.  And let’s not forget, this is a side job for me, I have a full time job as well.  I also have a gym to go to daily, and a personal life that doesn’t manage or run itself.  Heaven forbid I should want to get my hair cut or have a little sex somewhere along the line.  But I show up, every seven to ten days, rain hail or snow to bring you exactly what you want, and want you deserve.  I go out of my way to make both this blog and my Facebook page an escape for you, an escape from your regular daily routine.  A place where you can go and forget about whatever it is that boils your blood, or whatever it is, that plainly you just want an escape from.  Maybe it’s the wife (or husband) and kids, maybe it’s the housework, maybe it’s the weather, maybe its work.  You always know you can turn to me, because I’m always up to something, not because I enjoy being up to shit, but because you need me to be up to shit. And during this whole process the Executive Producer cashes in.  He cashes in on my exploits, on my words, and on my readers faithful followship.  Your loyalty is something I take very seriously, yet to him, you and I both are just a payday, a mortgage payment, office lease, car note, gas money AND beer money. We are that bloody big!  You’d think he would go out of his god damn way to get me a verified check beside my god damn Twitter name and some god damned coffee mugs wouldn’t you?

I’ll tell you, things are going to change around here, and change fast, or else the results will be simple.  I’ll take my ball, and my 400 plus weekly readers, and go somewhere else and play.  Together you and I have created a brand that any number of people would love to host.  People that would have business cards delivered to my front door the next day.  People that wouldn’t hold up posts because they are “controversial” whaa whaa whaa, “you mentioned religion” whaa whaa whaa, “called out racism” whaa whaa whaa.  People that would care about the time and effort I put in here, and the time and effort you, my readers take to stop by and read.  And when I go, what’s he got left?  Is he going to do this blog by himself?  What’s the BusDrivaChronicles without a BusDriva?  What is he going to call it?   “TheChronicles”?   Oh, that’s attractive, I can’t wait to check those stats.  Maybe he will become the personality here.  Won’t that be something?  Then he can call it “TheLittleManWithNapoleonSyndromeChronicles” or maybe “ComputerGeekWithASmallPenisChronicles”. He can talk about programming, and World of WarCraft and entertaining shit like that.  I’ll tell you this much, if I don’t get a verified check, some business cards, a box of coffee mugs and some god damn respect, we will all find out what he’s going to do and what he’s going to call it then, wont we?