The part that irritates me the most about tonight's little exchange is how blindingly damn obvious it was. This time of thing happens every day, to every one. We all get annoyed and we all move on. But when you see the hypocrisy, you just can't help but let it rile you.
I go to the bank. Somehow the Bank of Nova Scotia actually has customer friendly hours now. I take my cheques up there to cash. I've had some of them awhile, and my cousin had one even longer, but a cheque is a cheque, right? Hand it over and someone should cash it.
Apparently not, or so the stupid bitch on the other side of the counter was going to try and play. 'This cheque is stale' she tries to give me. Its older than six months so you can't cash it. I call bananas on that because its a soccer fees cheque and we haven't been playing that long for a cheque to go stale. I start to get into it with her, because really I don't need this kinda nonsense at the end of my day. There's no one else at the wickets at this time and another teller overhears. She politely, but reasonably firmly, corrects this miserable hag that I've gotten that her math is pathetically wrong and the cheque is still more than valid.
So we've cleared up that misnomer and we move on to the business of the day. Suddenly this sea hag notices my iron ring. Well now she's my best friend all of a sudden. We share something common (apparently her /whatever/ is also an engineer) so she has questions, and she interested in me, and wants to help. Where the hell was this three minutes ago when you wanted to screw me out of $136 because you can't count months without using your fingers!?!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
I would just like to take this opportunity to say that for the first time since Friday I don't really like I'm in pain. Yes, there is a bit of a twinge in the back of my head, from the remains of this headache but in the global scope of things, its minor.
And having been in rather excruciating pain this afternoon, to having mostly gotten rid of it now, I have to make note of how much pain plays a huge part in our lives. We fashion ourselves as tough, strong, can handle whatever the world dishes out people but when we're in pain it really slows us down. I can tell, as I sit here now, able to focus, able to do things, how much that headache was really wearing on me. I wish I could put a number on it but I really can't.
I was dull, thick-headed, and muddy all day. I was lethargic and unenthused. The snarling, whip-like tendrils of pain lashing at me from behind my right eye seemed like just another of the thousands of headaches I've had before. I would just ignore it like I have every one that has come previously. But it made me not want to do anything. It made me just want to lie down, in the dark, with a wet cloth around my head trying to numb the pain.
its now midnight and I'm going to go to bed, for my greater good. But for once in the very, very, very few instances I have shed a headache without going to sleep. And it has left me with a profound sense of how badly these things color my world, bring me down, and more or less ruin my enjoyment of life. I actually feed motivation right now, for the first time all weekend, and its midnight on Sunday.
And having been in rather excruciating pain this afternoon, to having mostly gotten rid of it now, I have to make note of how much pain plays a huge part in our lives. We fashion ourselves as tough, strong, can handle whatever the world dishes out people but when we're in pain it really slows us down. I can tell, as I sit here now, able to focus, able to do things, how much that headache was really wearing on me. I wish I could put a number on it but I really can't.
I was dull, thick-headed, and muddy all day. I was lethargic and unenthused. The snarling, whip-like tendrils of pain lashing at me from behind my right eye seemed like just another of the thousands of headaches I've had before. I would just ignore it like I have every one that has come previously. But it made me not want to do anything. It made me just want to lie down, in the dark, with a wet cloth around my head trying to numb the pain.
its now midnight and I'm going to go to bed, for my greater good. But for once in the very, very, very few instances I have shed a headache without going to sleep. And it has left me with a profound sense of how badly these things color my world, bring me down, and more or less ruin my enjoyment of life. I actually feed motivation right now, for the first time all weekend, and its midnight on Sunday.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Lord, do I hate summer.
I rush and I push to finish up a submission for someone that sent me an email last week. The closing line of the email was the usual, time is of the essence, and we're working hard to get this issue resolved quickly. I take this to heart. I fret and fuss about the fact that its dragging on and on and I haven't sent anything. Finally I get the numbers I need from my fabricator and then I spend a half an hour agonizing over the letter I send with the number, and the actual number. I stare at the number for awhile and try to decide, is this right?
Finally I send it off. 30 seconds later I get an email back.
"I am away until August 17"
I swore loudly! Why did I waste all this time trying to be quick about it if you're on vacation for the bloody week? Have a damn heart you clown and say, have it done by August 17, since I'm going to be away for the week. But no, he sends that utter nonsense about 'time is of the essence' blah, blah, blah. Time is of the essence but I'm gonna go sit on a boat and wipe my ass with your proposal. WAHAHAHAHA
Everyone's an butthole. Go plug yourself.
I rush and I push to finish up a submission for someone that sent me an email last week. The closing line of the email was the usual, time is of the essence, and we're working hard to get this issue resolved quickly. I take this to heart. I fret and fuss about the fact that its dragging on and on and I haven't sent anything. Finally I get the numbers I need from my fabricator and then I spend a half an hour agonizing over the letter I send with the number, and the actual number. I stare at the number for awhile and try to decide, is this right?
Finally I send it off. 30 seconds later I get an email back.
"I am away until August 17"
I swore loudly! Why did I waste all this time trying to be quick about it if you're on vacation for the bloody week? Have a damn heart you clown and say, have it done by August 17, since I'm going to be away for the week. But no, he sends that utter nonsense about 'time is of the essence' blah, blah, blah. Time is of the essence but I'm gonna go sit on a boat and wipe my ass with your proposal. WAHAHAHAHA
Everyone's an butthole. Go plug yourself.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
I really wish I didn't have this pathological need to understand. I wish I wasn't driven by this desire to grasp the forces that surround me. Maybe I could let something small like this go. But I can't, and its going to eat at me for the rest of the night.
I heard a good song on the radio today. Pure, hard rock, on Sirius Octane 20. (gag, gag)
Used - Blood On My Hands
Hey, that sounded great. I should download it. So I make a note of the title, come home, and do a search on the internet. What's 6 of the first 7 things that come up when I type in 'used blood on my hands'?
Miley Cyrus
Miley god damn Cyrus!!!
Is there no justice in the world? Can we not escape this foul urchin? Can a regular, ordinary, not interested in her hellacious, demon spawn guy not pursue his bland, inoffensive interests without being inundated by this pest? Go away Miley you beast!! Christ, I was reading a damn Giant Tiger flyer at lunch today and they had this trollop's visage plastered on tramp-wear for 11 year old's. I kid you not, it looked like slut-gear for the pre-teen set. Why can't little girl's wear rainbow's and starfish? Why does this Miley Cyrus jackass have to be plastered all over everything?
And why does she have to interrupt my search for the pure, hard rock? Go away you demon-spawn! I want nothing of your fashion shoot, or your music video. I might want your blood on my hands, but for tonight I'll settle for just the pure, hard rock of the Used rock song.
I heard a good song on the radio today. Pure, hard rock, on Sirius Octane 20. (gag, gag)
Used - Blood On My Hands
Hey, that sounded great. I should download it. So I make a note of the title, come home, and do a search on the internet. What's 6 of the first 7 things that come up when I type in 'used blood on my hands'?
Miley Cyrus
Miley god damn Cyrus!!!
Is there no justice in the world? Can we not escape this foul urchin? Can a regular, ordinary, not interested in her hellacious, demon spawn guy not pursue his bland, inoffensive interests without being inundated by this pest? Go away Miley you beast!! Christ, I was reading a damn Giant Tiger flyer at lunch today and they had this trollop's visage plastered on tramp-wear for 11 year old's. I kid you not, it looked like slut-gear for the pre-teen set. Why can't little girl's wear rainbow's and starfish? Why does this Miley Cyrus jackass have to be plastered all over everything?
And why does she have to interrupt my search for the pure, hard rock? Go away you demon-spawn! I want nothing of your fashion shoot, or your music video. I might want your blood on my hands, but for tonight I'll settle for just the pure, hard rock of the Used rock song.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
One more thing . . .
I don't know how many of you listen to satellte radio but I have a complaint. I like listening to Octane because I favor the musical selection.
However . . .
Can you PLEASE knock if off with the 'pure, hard, rock'? I mean Christ! Every second bloody phrase is 'pure, hard, rock'. I get it already, but let me tell you something. Its annoying!!! I hate the phrase. It drives me up the wall. Think of something else! You can keep using it, but spread it around. Try some other catch phrases. I like some diversity. If I hear 'pure, hard, rock' one more time I think I might impale my brain with a pencil.
In conclusion, 'pure, hard, rock' = pencil impalement
Thank you and good night
I don't know how many of you listen to satellte radio but I have a complaint. I like listening to Octane because I favor the musical selection.
However . . .
Can you PLEASE knock if off with the 'pure, hard, rock'? I mean Christ! Every second bloody phrase is 'pure, hard, rock'. I get it already, but let me tell you something. Its annoying!!! I hate the phrase. It drives me up the wall. Think of something else! You can keep using it, but spread it around. Try some other catch phrases. I like some diversity. If I hear 'pure, hard, rock' one more time I think I might impale my brain with a pencil.
In conclusion, 'pure, hard, rock' = pencil impalement
Thank you and good night
I can't help but feel melancholy tonight.
The ball hockey season has come to a close. We laid it all on the line in the final game but it just wasn't enough. No one could ever question our heart or our determination because on those counts we had plenty. But in the final analysis we simply did not have enough team skill to beat a more cohesive team. Where they could pass stick to stick, we would miss one another and would have to chase it off the boards. In the the offensive zone they would cycle it and take a point shot. We would scramble in the corner and maybe jam away at something right in front of the goal. We weren't clean, and it simply wasn't enough.
But that's not why I'm blue. I am sad because I was playing on a great team. We didn't win a lot of games but from my perspective we had a lot of fun. The team got along great, and there was good participation. The roster was 16 players and we always had 10+ for every game. Looking around the league at other teams that was pretty damn good. It was the same group of guys that came out for every game, and even though we were on the short end of most games, we still cared. Every time. They are a great bunch of guys.
I am sad because who knows what the future may bring. There are rumors of a fall league, and I am hopeful that this will prove true. I had an amazing amount of fun playing ball hockey. Even more than I could have hoped for, when I signed up for it on a whim. It would be great if the core of the same team stuck together, and we played another season. That would be amazing. But you can never tell what the future will bring. And uncertainty breeds my melancholy.
To be continued . . .
The ball hockey season has come to a close. We laid it all on the line in the final game but it just wasn't enough. No one could ever question our heart or our determination because on those counts we had plenty. But in the final analysis we simply did not have enough team skill to beat a more cohesive team. Where they could pass stick to stick, we would miss one another and would have to chase it off the boards. In the the offensive zone they would cycle it and take a point shot. We would scramble in the corner and maybe jam away at something right in front of the goal. We weren't clean, and it simply wasn't enough.
But that's not why I'm blue. I am sad because I was playing on a great team. We didn't win a lot of games but from my perspective we had a lot of fun. The team got along great, and there was good participation. The roster was 16 players and we always had 10+ for every game. Looking around the league at other teams that was pretty damn good. It was the same group of guys that came out for every game, and even though we were on the short end of most games, we still cared. Every time. They are a great bunch of guys.
I am sad because who knows what the future may bring. There are rumors of a fall league, and I am hopeful that this will prove true. I had an amazing amount of fun playing ball hockey. Even more than I could have hoped for, when I signed up for it on a whim. It would be great if the core of the same team stuck together, and we played another season. That would be amazing. But you can never tell what the future will bring. And uncertainty breeds my melancholy.
To be continued . . .
Monday, August 03, 2009
I just can't bring myself to feel bad about that game. I can bring myself to feel bad about my performance. There is a quality of lacklustre to how I am moving out there. But my team really put it on the line tonight. We threw our hearts and our souls into that game. If you wanted to base winning and losing on effort, then we win that game in a walk.
The effort was definitely there. Sometimes we sleep-walk through a game. I won't say we mail in a performance, but there have been games where our output has not matched that which was required. But that couldn't be said tonight. It was a playoff game and to a man, everyone came out to play. Our bench was a little short, but everyone played as much of a shift as they could manage. Don't get me wrong. At points guys were tired. They were walking the floor and the bodies were hurting. But when the ball came into their area, they hustled for it. When they had a chance to make a play, they tried to make a play. Not every attempt turned into a great play, but everyone tried. Every chance was chased down. Every ball was swung at. It was great to see.
We just didn't get a break. The other team, which didn't appear to resemble the team we've played four times before, was faster and stronger and more precise than us. But for all their apparent greater skill, we out hustled them. The benches on both sides were short, but when the players got tired, we still out ran them to the ball. When plays broke down in the middle, we were stealing the ball and making breaks out of it. They would get shots by setting up and cycling it around us in our end. Using precision to out-maneuver us. But when it came down to one-on-one effort, we out-shone them every time. It was pretty impressive to see.
The disappointing thing is we had to lose. I think it disheartened my team mates. We tried so hard and in the end our lack of cohesion as a team got the better of us. We were tired, and we were out manned, and we made a few rookie mistakes, that a group of guys that were used to playing with one another wouldn't make. But we're a pick-up team, and not used to playing together, and from time to time we make goofy mistakes. I made one myself tonight that cost us a goal. I ran back on defense when they had a break and got caught up defending a guy in front of our goal. Well I'm actually a winger tonight and my responsibility is to cover the point. So when I stick to the guy I shadow running back on the breakaway, I end up out of position when they set up in our end. Pass back to the point, goal for them. That's my fault.
The goal that ultimately cost us the game was the same sort of thing. We had it behind the net. Our guy is blocked to the left. He's blocked to the right. He wants to flip it high down the middle but doesn't get under it. Ends up on the stick of the opposition, right in the slot. Bang its in the net, and there's only 3 minutes of game to go. He feels awful but its just a rookie mistake that we make every game. It feels awful because we've been giving our hearts all game long.
We have another game tomorrow and this is the sudden death match. We have to win or our season is over. So if you read this, and its not 6 o'clock on August 4, 2009, come out to the Henk Ruys soccer centre in Saskatoon. We could use your support.
Go Shockers!!
The effort was definitely there. Sometimes we sleep-walk through a game. I won't say we mail in a performance, but there have been games where our output has not matched that which was required. But that couldn't be said tonight. It was a playoff game and to a man, everyone came out to play. Our bench was a little short, but everyone played as much of a shift as they could manage. Don't get me wrong. At points guys were tired. They were walking the floor and the bodies were hurting. But when the ball came into their area, they hustled for it. When they had a chance to make a play, they tried to make a play. Not every attempt turned into a great play, but everyone tried. Every chance was chased down. Every ball was swung at. It was great to see.
We just didn't get a break. The other team, which didn't appear to resemble the team we've played four times before, was faster and stronger and more precise than us. But for all their apparent greater skill, we out hustled them. The benches on both sides were short, but when the players got tired, we still out ran them to the ball. When plays broke down in the middle, we were stealing the ball and making breaks out of it. They would get shots by setting up and cycling it around us in our end. Using precision to out-maneuver us. But when it came down to one-on-one effort, we out-shone them every time. It was pretty impressive to see.
The disappointing thing is we had to lose. I think it disheartened my team mates. We tried so hard and in the end our lack of cohesion as a team got the better of us. We were tired, and we were out manned, and we made a few rookie mistakes, that a group of guys that were used to playing with one another wouldn't make. But we're a pick-up team, and not used to playing together, and from time to time we make goofy mistakes. I made one myself tonight that cost us a goal. I ran back on defense when they had a break and got caught up defending a guy in front of our goal. Well I'm actually a winger tonight and my responsibility is to cover the point. So when I stick to the guy I shadow running back on the breakaway, I end up out of position when they set up in our end. Pass back to the point, goal for them. That's my fault.
The goal that ultimately cost us the game was the same sort of thing. We had it behind the net. Our guy is blocked to the left. He's blocked to the right. He wants to flip it high down the middle but doesn't get under it. Ends up on the stick of the opposition, right in the slot. Bang its in the net, and there's only 3 minutes of game to go. He feels awful but its just a rookie mistake that we make every game. It feels awful because we've been giving our hearts all game long.
We have another game tomorrow and this is the sudden death match. We have to win or our season is over. So if you read this, and its not 6 o'clock on August 4, 2009, come out to the Henk Ruys soccer centre in Saskatoon. We could use your support.
Go Shockers!!
Sunday, August 02, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
STRIKE TWO AND A HALF!!!
I am currently very pissed off at Extra Foods.
If you don't have something then just say, you don't have something. Please don't lie to me like I'm an idiot. I just wasted half an hour wandering around Extra Foods looking Shake'n'Bake. I figured, they've got to have this. Right? Right!?!
They don't.
Of course I had to go throug the painful ordeal to discover this truth. Finally I give up and ask someone who works there. Aisle 4 he tells me. Well, I spent 10 solid minutes scouring ever square inch of Aisle 4 and there ain't no god damn Shake'n'Bake in Aisle 4. I can guarantee you of that.
Finally it abject depression and defeat I just left Extra Foods in complete disgust. I couldn't take it anymore. I drove to Safeway. Inside of 15 seconds of entering the door I'd found the bloody Shake'n'Bake. It was RIGHT where it should have been. Right where I'd spent 20 minutes looks in Extra Foods. Where it hadn't been there.
Piss on you Extra Foods. May you rot in hell.
I am currently very pissed off at Extra Foods.
If you don't have something then just say, you don't have something. Please don't lie to me like I'm an idiot. I just wasted half an hour wandering around Extra Foods looking Shake'n'Bake. I figured, they've got to have this. Right? Right!?!
They don't.
Of course I had to go throug the painful ordeal to discover this truth. Finally I give up and ask someone who works there. Aisle 4 he tells me. Well, I spent 10 solid minutes scouring ever square inch of Aisle 4 and there ain't no god damn Shake'n'Bake in Aisle 4. I can guarantee you of that.
Finally it abject depression and defeat I just left Extra Foods in complete disgust. I couldn't take it anymore. I drove to Safeway. Inside of 15 seconds of entering the door I'd found the bloody Shake'n'Bake. It was RIGHT where it should have been. Right where I'd spent 20 minutes looks in Extra Foods. Where it hadn't been there.
Piss on you Extra Foods. May you rot in hell.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Things That Piss Me Off:
Why does Blogger insist that I have enabled Comments on my blog, but when I check any/all of my posts, there is no comments section enabled?
Then, to compound the fiasco, when I try to use the help on the Blogger website to figure out why its not working, half the pages I click links to, return saying the page doesn't exist!
Why does Blogger insist that I have enabled Comments on my blog, but when I check any/all of my posts, there is no comments section enabled?
Then, to compound the fiasco, when I try to use the help on the Blogger website to figure out why its not working, half the pages I click links to, return saying the page doesn't exist!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
So I go to a strip mall in Regina, where a Mr. Sub shares a parking lot with, among other things, a medical clinic. There's a sign in the parking that that says:
"30 Minute Customer and Patient Parking"
Now who's been able to go to a walk-in medical clinic lately and only have to stay 30 minutes? Is that even possible? It seems like the default wait is like 2 hours now. I think they make you sit for the first hour, just to test your resolve. If you stay that long, then you go on a list and they call a doctor in from the golf course, or wherever the hell they hang out when they're not in the back seeing patients like they should be.
"30 Minute Customer and Patient Parking"
Now who's been able to go to a walk-in medical clinic lately and only have to stay 30 minutes? Is that even possible? It seems like the default wait is like 2 hours now. I think they make you sit for the first hour, just to test your resolve. If you stay that long, then you go on a list and they call a doctor in from the golf course, or wherever the hell they hang out when they're not in the back seeing patients like they should be.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Things That Piss Me Off:
How irritating is it when you're in the grocery store, and there's a line formed up behind someone, and they are taking forever PLUS a day because they want to dig all the way to their shoe for some damn pennies so they can pay precise change for their stupid bill.
Just whip out another $5 grandma!!!
How irritating is it when you're in the grocery store, and there's a line formed up behind someone, and they are taking forever PLUS a day because they want to dig all the way to their shoe for some damn pennies so they can pay precise change for their stupid bill.
Just whip out another $5 grandma!!!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
It is my considered opinion that if you're going grocery shopping at 11:00 on a Saturday night at the bloody Shoppers Drug Mart, then you've clearly made a severe planning mistake in your life. Rather than buying loaves of bread and juice for the morning, it might be time well spent if you sat back and really considered the set of circumstances that brought you to the point that had you looking for the staples of life in a drug store at entirely the wrong part of the bloody day.
Monday, July 13, 2009
This may get me thrown out of the league but I have something to say.
What the hell was wrong with the referees in our ball hockey game tonight?
The team we were playing was clearly a skill level about us. The score was 8-0 late in the second half. The game was over. It was just a matter of time before the clock wound down to zero. The other team was shelling us and had the refs had any god damn decency they'd have shown a little mercy in their calling of the game.
There's a scramble in front of our net. The puck is under our goalies pad. Okay, I will concede that you COULD still see it. But come ON! The score was 8-0 already! Have a bloody heart. Our goalie is down and out. He's flat on his face, just lying there hoping he's covering it. One of our defense is also on the ground. Everyone is out of position. There was every reason they could have just blown the play dead and we could have had a face off.
But NO!! Because you could still see a sliver of ball they decide that its still live and they let these jackalopes dig at our goalie. Get serious! Of course there's gonna be rough stuff when that happens. People get shoved and someone lands right on the goalie's back. End result - he's injured.
I lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of the guys with whistles. They could have, and should have prevented that. The score was out of hand and they had a duty to protect the players from harm not safeguard some asinine concept of 'fair play'.
PISS ON FAIR PLAY! They nearly broke our goalie!!
What the hell was wrong with the referees in our ball hockey game tonight?
The team we were playing was clearly a skill level about us. The score was 8-0 late in the second half. The game was over. It was just a matter of time before the clock wound down to zero. The other team was shelling us and had the refs had any god damn decency they'd have shown a little mercy in their calling of the game.
There's a scramble in front of our net. The puck is under our goalies pad. Okay, I will concede that you COULD still see it. But come ON! The score was 8-0 already! Have a bloody heart. Our goalie is down and out. He's flat on his face, just lying there hoping he's covering it. One of our defense is also on the ground. Everyone is out of position. There was every reason they could have just blown the play dead and we could have had a face off.
But NO!! Because you could still see a sliver of ball they decide that its still live and they let these jackalopes dig at our goalie. Get serious! Of course there's gonna be rough stuff when that happens. People get shoved and someone lands right on the goalie's back. End result - he's injured.
I lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of the guys with whistles. They could have, and should have prevented that. The score was out of hand and they had a duty to protect the players from harm not safeguard some asinine concept of 'fair play'.
PISS ON FAIR PLAY! They nearly broke our goalie!!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Okay, this needs to be said. It needs to be said because not saying it would be doing a dis-service to truth, justice and the honesty of modern society.
Going to the lake is retarded.
Why would anyone do this? Its just stupid. You are purposely, and with considered intent, giving up the conveniences of modern, and civilized living, to eke out an existence like they did 150 years ago, when they didn't have the privileges that we have now. Why is is this a good idea? Why!?!
1) Why would you give up flush toilets? Especially the privilege of your own flush toilet, that you don't have to share, won't stink of someone else's ass, and doesn't bear the imminent possibility of hepatitis?
2) Can you explain to me the allure of cold showers? How is this an appealing idea?
3) Sleeping outdoors is a good idea? Ummm, why?
4) Let's store all our food for a weekend (or longer) with only the most rudimentary of chilling technology, during the most arduous heat of our Canadian climate. That sounds like a great way (not) to avoid a stomach bacteriological infection.
5) And what the hell are you supposed to DO out there in the woods? Great, I've packed up 900 pounds worth of stuff into the back of a Nissan Versa and I drove into the northern Prince Albert forest. I set up my trailer, built a camp fire, now I'm staring across the flames at a bunch of people that also don't know what the hell we're supposed to do. What's the god damn point of this!?!
6) And another thing - do you realize you're getting completely ripped off on those 'campers' that you're all so proud of? The damn thing is balsa wood and tin. Its cheap crap and they charge you grotesque prices for them. If I hear one more person preen on about the luxuriousness of their shit-box camper I think I'm going to reflexively vomit on them.
In closing I would greatly appreciate if if you could all keep your fawning appreciation for the fiasco that is 'going to the lake' to an absolute minimum from now on. As anyone that has seen the ocean knows, going to the lake is a piss-poor substitute for the real thing. After seeing the ocean, taking a look at a little puddle of mud and algae in the middle of Saskatchewan fails to excite the senses anymore.
Going to the lake is retarded.
Why would anyone do this? Its just stupid. You are purposely, and with considered intent, giving up the conveniences of modern, and civilized living, to eke out an existence like they did 150 years ago, when they didn't have the privileges that we have now. Why is is this a good idea? Why!?!
1) Why would you give up flush toilets? Especially the privilege of your own flush toilet, that you don't have to share, won't stink of someone else's ass, and doesn't bear the imminent possibility of hepatitis?
2) Can you explain to me the allure of cold showers? How is this an appealing idea?
3) Sleeping outdoors is a good idea? Ummm, why?
4) Let's store all our food for a weekend (or longer) with only the most rudimentary of chilling technology, during the most arduous heat of our Canadian climate. That sounds like a great way (not) to avoid a stomach bacteriological infection.
5) And what the hell are you supposed to DO out there in the woods? Great, I've packed up 900 pounds worth of stuff into the back of a Nissan Versa and I drove into the northern Prince Albert forest. I set up my trailer, built a camp fire, now I'm staring across the flames at a bunch of people that also don't know what the hell we're supposed to do. What's the god damn point of this!?!
6) And another thing - do you realize you're getting completely ripped off on those 'campers' that you're all so proud of? The damn thing is balsa wood and tin. Its cheap crap and they charge you grotesque prices for them. If I hear one more person preen on about the luxuriousness of their shit-box camper I think I'm going to reflexively vomit on them.
In closing I would greatly appreciate if if you could all keep your fawning appreciation for the fiasco that is 'going to the lake' to an absolute minimum from now on. As anyone that has seen the ocean knows, going to the lake is a piss-poor substitute for the real thing. After seeing the ocean, taking a look at a little puddle of mud and algae in the middle of Saskatchewan fails to excite the senses anymore.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
I have a complaint with the playing of golf lately.
We need to develop a sense of reasonability about our approach to the search for a golf ball. There are a great many of us that are going too far with the search for a lost ball.
I have just done some research on the internet and determined that a golf ball can cost anywhere from $2 to $5 for a brand new, brand name, top of the line golf ball. We are going to assume, for the purposes of this discussion, that all of you are using a top of the line ball when you are doing all this searching. Because if you're using a range ball that you dug out of the bush 3 years ago then I'm about ten times more pissed off then I already I am.
Look, I can understand the desire to find a lost ball. You hit a bad shot but you got a good look at it, and you've got a decent idea of where it is. But lets be reasonable, ok? You hit it in the bush? Its not in the fairway, or the deep grass, or some place that's easy to find. You hit it in the bloody scrub brush or the deep thicket. I know you think you know where it is, but this really is a needle-in-a-haystack scenario.
However, more aggravating are those of you that are holding up progress on the whole damn golf course to go searching for a ball that is not on your section of the course anymore. I've seen this happen. Let me give you all a rule of thumb. And its not a difficult to follow one.
1) If your ball is, out of bounds, as the rules of the course are laid out
2) Your ball is in someone else's field of play
3) It would require walking 50 yards past the out of bounds stake to get where you think your ball might be
If all of these conditions are met then you have to let the $3 golf ball go and just move on with your game. The $3 is not worth it and you're pissing off everyone else around you on the course if you keep persisting in looking for it. Just take a bloody drop and move on.
We need to develop a sense of reasonability about our approach to the search for a golf ball. There are a great many of us that are going too far with the search for a lost ball.
I have just done some research on the internet and determined that a golf ball can cost anywhere from $2 to $5 for a brand new, brand name, top of the line golf ball. We are going to assume, for the purposes of this discussion, that all of you are using a top of the line ball when you are doing all this searching. Because if you're using a range ball that you dug out of the bush 3 years ago then I'm about ten times more pissed off then I already I am.
Look, I can understand the desire to find a lost ball. You hit a bad shot but you got a good look at it, and you've got a decent idea of where it is. But lets be reasonable, ok? You hit it in the bush? Its not in the fairway, or the deep grass, or some place that's easy to find. You hit it in the bloody scrub brush or the deep thicket. I know you think you know where it is, but this really is a needle-in-a-haystack scenario.
However, more aggravating are those of you that are holding up progress on the whole damn golf course to go searching for a ball that is not on your section of the course anymore. I've seen this happen. Let me give you all a rule of thumb. And its not a difficult to follow one.
1) If your ball is, out of bounds, as the rules of the course are laid out
2) Your ball is in someone else's field of play
3) It would require walking 50 yards past the out of bounds stake to get where you think your ball might be
If all of these conditions are met then you have to let the $3 golf ball go and just move on with your game. The $3 is not worth it and you're pissing off everyone else around you on the course if you keep persisting in looking for it. Just take a bloody drop and move on.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
I saw my own death tonight. It wasn't pleasant.
It will happen in the downstairs bathroom of my house. That's a modest comfort because at least I'll die at home. But I had the sense that I'll still be alone so that's not a lot of comfort.
"Fred" will have called again, like he always does. And when I least want to speak to him. I'll be in the washroom chatting with him when it'll happen. Something is going to /pop/ in my head. It will happen on the left side, somewhere around the temple. The pain is going to be sudden and immediate. I will spasm from it, jerking me from the toilet. My body will become splayed across the bath tub that stretches in front of you, when you're seated in my downstairs bathroom. The end will come quickly and I will bleed to death. The blood with run from my ear, down the drain into the sewer.
It will happen in the downstairs bathroom of my house. That's a modest comfort because at least I'll die at home. But I had the sense that I'll still be alone so that's not a lot of comfort.
"Fred" will have called again, like he always does. And when I least want to speak to him. I'll be in the washroom chatting with him when it'll happen. Something is going to /pop/ in my head. It will happen on the left side, somewhere around the temple. The pain is going to be sudden and immediate. I will spasm from it, jerking me from the toilet. My body will become splayed across the bath tub that stretches in front of you, when you're seated in my downstairs bathroom. The end will come quickly and I will bleed to death. The blood with run from my ear, down the drain into the sewer.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
I swear, if I ever find out who you are, Volkswagen driver FHE 503 I am going to strangulate you for being so stupid.
No, there was NOT enough room for you to cut in front of me.
No you did NOT signal your intentions.
You are just damn lucky I had a premonition that you were an ass-hat and somehow predicted that you were going to do something stupid. Otherwise we'd both be scheduling appointments with SGI this afternoon.
No, there was NOT enough room for you to cut in front of me.
No you did NOT signal your intentions.
You are just damn lucky I had a premonition that you were an ass-hat and somehow predicted that you were going to do something stupid. Otherwise we'd both be scheduling appointments with SGI this afternoon.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Why do some people not plan ahead? I support a plan as much as the next person but if you don't think it through, its really not that much of a plan.
I was invited to lunch today, by some fellow committee members on the association of engineers. They are both from Regina, and i had never met either of them. One called me on the phone to schedule the lunch meeting about a week ago.
They chose Earl's as the location for this meeting. There were no numbers exchanged, or plans made about what to do or when. The only direction provided is that the people from Regina would arrive by 11:45, at the latest, and those of us from Saskatoon could arrive later and meet at the restaurant.
One complication . . . Earl's won't identify your table in any way. So if you're Joe Smith, here to meet Becky Wannamaker, that's hard to cheese for you, unless you can pick her out of a police line-up. When you show up at Earl's, you're welcome to wander all over the restaurant looking for your party. But the incredibly vapid girls at the front will make no attempt to help you locate your table.
So I'm here at Earl's, to meet two people from Regina that I've never seen before. I have no contact number to phone a cell phone, and I can't find them in the restaurant by looking at faces. What to do? Well, I waited 25 minutes until quarter AFTER 12 for them to find me patiently waiting by the front door. That didn't happen so I blew out of there.
Next time, but a bit more thought into your damn plan!
I was invited to lunch today, by some fellow committee members on the association of engineers. They are both from Regina, and i had never met either of them. One called me on the phone to schedule the lunch meeting about a week ago.
They chose Earl's as the location for this meeting. There were no numbers exchanged, or plans made about what to do or when. The only direction provided is that the people from Regina would arrive by 11:45, at the latest, and those of us from Saskatoon could arrive later and meet at the restaurant.
One complication . . . Earl's won't identify your table in any way. So if you're Joe Smith, here to meet Becky Wannamaker, that's hard to cheese for you, unless you can pick her out of a police line-up. When you show up at Earl's, you're welcome to wander all over the restaurant looking for your party. But the incredibly vapid girls at the front will make no attempt to help you locate your table.
So I'm here at Earl's, to meet two people from Regina that I've never seen before. I have no contact number to phone a cell phone, and I can't find them in the restaurant by looking at faces. What to do? Well, I waited 25 minutes until quarter AFTER 12 for them to find me patiently waiting by the front door. That didn't happen so I blew out of there.
Next time, but a bit more thought into your damn plan!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Friday, June 05, 2009
Its official. Sasktel has the worst corporate web site in the history of online presence.
I go to the Sasktel website because I want to look something up. Seems like a relatively simple task, right? First of all, the damn pages won't load. I wait and I wait and I wait and the bloody hour glass symbol won't go away. Presumably its still /thinking/.
Finally I give up on that and skip trying to go through the menus to get what I want. I try to use the Search box. I can't /search/ unless I pick a category of the site to search in. WTF is up with that!?! I want to search your whole, useless damn site, you twigs!!! If I knew WHERE to get what I want, I wouldn't need to SEARCH!!!
In the end, they had no spot on the site to look up phone number availability. I hate SaskTel.
I go to the Sasktel website because I want to look something up. Seems like a relatively simple task, right? First of all, the damn pages won't load. I wait and I wait and I wait and the bloody hour glass symbol won't go away. Presumably its still /thinking/.
Finally I give up on that and skip trying to go through the menus to get what I want. I try to use the Search box. I can't /search/ unless I pick a category of the site to search in. WTF is up with that!?! I want to search your whole, useless damn site, you twigs!!! If I knew WHERE to get what I want, I wouldn't need to SEARCH!!!
In the end, they had no spot on the site to look up phone number availability. I hate SaskTel.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Did you ever have one of those moments where everything comes into perfect focus, and then you just screw it up?
I was playing hockey tonight. Admittedly, not my best sport but its fun, and I wanted to run around so I joined the league. I didn't set any all-star points but by the same token I would say I didn't embarass myself.
Except for one moment.
The puck is in the opponents end. He's coming out from the corner on my left. He has one guy along the boards at the same depth to pass from, or try to move it up the board. We have one guy going on the ball carrier, and one guy on the player down low. He tries to pass.
I anticipate this perfectly. Its like I could see it about to happen. I run into the middle and sure enough, the opponents pass ends up on my stick. I'm about 20 feet out from the net with no one on me.
And I freeze.
It was such a perfect moment that I wanted to take the perfect shot. So I'm trying to calm the ball on my stick so its perfect to take a shot. And I'm not shooting, and not shooting and not shooting. Its just not perfect enough yet. Finally someone runs at me, and I panic and I fire one harmlessly off the shin pads of the defender running towards me. It was infuriating. We were down two goals and I had a perfect opportunity.
I screwed it up. I can assure you I will not forget that for awhile.
I was playing hockey tonight. Admittedly, not my best sport but its fun, and I wanted to run around so I joined the league. I didn't set any all-star points but by the same token I would say I didn't embarass myself.
Except for one moment.
The puck is in the opponents end. He's coming out from the corner on my left. He has one guy along the boards at the same depth to pass from, or try to move it up the board. We have one guy going on the ball carrier, and one guy on the player down low. He tries to pass.
I anticipate this perfectly. Its like I could see it about to happen. I run into the middle and sure enough, the opponents pass ends up on my stick. I'm about 20 feet out from the net with no one on me.
And I freeze.
It was such a perfect moment that I wanted to take the perfect shot. So I'm trying to calm the ball on my stick so its perfect to take a shot. And I'm not shooting, and not shooting and not shooting. Its just not perfect enough yet. Finally someone runs at me, and I panic and I fire one harmlessly off the shin pads of the defender running towards me. It was infuriating. We were down two goals and I had a perfect opportunity.
I screwed it up. I can assure you I will not forget that for awhile.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Friday, May 01, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I could rattle on, and on, for a page or more about how stupefyingly boring tonight's Leonard Cohen concert was. Or I could preach about the stupidity of the blackness imposed upon us by the show. Perhaps I could best illustrate my point about the insipid dictum that absolute silence be upheld at all times.
I could do that but I will best make my point with one example.
I am leaving the building as the show is winding to its grand finale. In another other 'concert' (and I use the term loosely in this connotation) the energy of the show would be ramping up to a crowning point, before cresting and ending abruptly, having achieved the intent of leaving the crowd with more.
As I walk towards the door, rather than hear a pulsating roar from the stage, or an intensity from a crowd that is loving the show, I can hear, from somewhere within the pitch black darkess of the side of the stage, a portable generator. My ears are not filled with the sound of the show. My senses are not sparkled by a crowd enthralled with the performance. I can hear a stupid, portable generator, cranking out electricity. Its drowning out the performance on the stage to the point that I can't hear the singing, but do hear this mechanical pulsing, as I walk towards the door.
If that doesn't signify the pathetic energy of this show any more vividly, then I'm a lousy story-teller.
I could do that but I will best make my point with one example.
I am leaving the building as the show is winding to its grand finale. In another other 'concert' (and I use the term loosely in this connotation) the energy of the show would be ramping up to a crowning point, before cresting and ending abruptly, having achieved the intent of leaving the crowd with more.
As I walk towards the door, rather than hear a pulsating roar from the stage, or an intensity from a crowd that is loving the show, I can hear, from somewhere within the pitch black darkess of the side of the stage, a portable generator. My ears are not filled with the sound of the show. My senses are not sparkled by a crowd enthralled with the performance. I can hear a stupid, portable generator, cranking out electricity. Its drowning out the performance on the stage to the point that I can't hear the singing, but do hear this mechanical pulsing, as I walk towards the door.
If that doesn't signify the pathetic energy of this show any more vividly, then I'm a lousy story-teller.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
"People seen on the street today, top one answer to the question . . .Is it warm enough for shorts yet!?! What's your answer?"
"We're going to go with YES!"
"Show me YES!!!"
BBBBBUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
"That would be WRONG. You all suck. For your stupidity you will now be shot summarily."
BANG!!!
"We're going to go with YES!"
"Show me YES!!!"
BBBBBUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
"That would be WRONG. You all suck. For your stupidity you will now be shot summarily."
BANG!!!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Okay girls, we have to talk.
That piercing, where you put a stud under your bottom lip? Yeah, that looks retarded. I know its trendy and all the girls are doing it, but its about the stupidest thing I've ever seen in my life.
Don't put shit in your face!
I can't stress this enough. No one can pull off that look. No one. At least when its the creepy goth chick you can write the decision off as part of a global failing of thought. However in the past two days I've seen two, average, ordinary, doesn't appear messed up in the head girls, with this stupid piercing under the lip.
Don't put shit in your face!
I can't stress this enough. The examples from this weekend were average, cut girls in the early/mid twenties range. They looked like your typical, girl-next-door, type. Except for this asinine piercing under the lip.
Look, let me tell you what that looks like, from a third-party persepective. I think we're supposed to be fooled into thinking its a beauty mark but ladies, that's not working.
It looks like a wart, or some kind of abnormal growth.
It might be a piece of food that you don't notice is there, but makes you look like a pig or a slob.
Perhaps its a highly unattractive cold sore, which isn't making anyone think you're pretty.
Or it could be a pimple that you're not taking care of, thus ruining your, girl-next-door appeal.
No matter what it is mistaken for, it is never mistaken for something pretty, attractive or a decision that in some way enhances your looks. It makes you look like a retard, moron or buffoon.
Please knock it off.
That piercing, where you put a stud under your bottom lip? Yeah, that looks retarded. I know its trendy and all the girls are doing it, but its about the stupidest thing I've ever seen in my life.
Don't put shit in your face!
I can't stress this enough. No one can pull off that look. No one. At least when its the creepy goth chick you can write the decision off as part of a global failing of thought. However in the past two days I've seen two, average, ordinary, doesn't appear messed up in the head girls, with this stupid piercing under the lip.
Don't put shit in your face!
I can't stress this enough. The examples from this weekend were average, cut girls in the early/mid twenties range. They looked like your typical, girl-next-door, type. Except for this asinine piercing under the lip.
Look, let me tell you what that looks like, from a third-party persepective. I think we're supposed to be fooled into thinking its a beauty mark but ladies, that's not working.
It looks like a wart, or some kind of abnormal growth.
It might be a piece of food that you don't notice is there, but makes you look like a pig or a slob.
Perhaps its a highly unattractive cold sore, which isn't making anyone think you're pretty.
Or it could be a pimple that you're not taking care of, thus ruining your, girl-next-door appeal.
No matter what it is mistaken for, it is never mistaken for something pretty, attractive or a decision that in some way enhances your looks. It makes you look like a retard, moron or buffoon.
Please knock it off.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
I finally went to the doctor this morning for my physical. Its only about 17 years now since a doctor in Saskatoon told me I needed a family doctor. That's about par for the course in how I approach the medical profession.
What a disaster the trip turned out to be. That office is a complete nightmare. How they do anything successfully I will never understand. I think they'd actually lost my appointment. It was an appointment I had to schedule 6 weeks ago because they simply had no spaces available any sooner. She looked at that chart for a long time but didn't say anything. If I go on what the doctor said, it sounds like they called him in from a day off. I heard two other people say they were there to see the same doctor. I have to assume he was called in to see patients the office staff had been booked, when he thought he was free.
To compound their uselessness, the nurse/receptionist puts me in the little examining room but doen't include any of the documentation of my file. So the doctor had to leave for what must have been 10 minutes, to find the results of tests that he'd had me do, and the notes he'd written last time.
The whole experience was a gong-show nightmare. I think he left the room about 5 times, to look something up or get more information. Each trek away was at least 5 minutes of waiting. Meanwhile I'm sitting there in my shorts, and nothing else, because that's what the nurse woman said to do. He's supposed to be giving me a physical, right? All he did for examing was look in my throat, my right ear, and do some listening with the stethesope. Now admittedly, I'm probably in pretty good health. Nevertheless, I did all this blasted waiting for that much interest in how I am?
Anyway, we get to the point of what I'm concerned about, and I tell him the problems I'm having. Lots of diarrhea, bad headaches, neck pain, dizzy spells. At the very least he did hone in on the damn headaches and we investigated that for a few minutes. (oh yeah, he also examined my feet, for reasons that are not clear to me) Sounds like migraines, he says to me. At least you got that right! So he offers me some migraine medication and promises to book me in to see a neurologist. So maybe we're going to get somewhere with the headaches.
But he gives me these migraine pills and I ask, is there anything wrong with taking these with my other medications? He doesn't know (obviously) and thus we had another long trip out of the room. Well golly gee shit, turns out the migraine pills ARE contra-indicated for people taking Prozac. It is possible to get something called 'serotonin syndrome'. I ask if that's bad and he says yeah, it could kill you. So he put exactly that much thought into prescribing me a medication, given the medical history I'd now told him about twice.
What a disaster the trip turned out to be. That office is a complete nightmare. How they do anything successfully I will never understand. I think they'd actually lost my appointment. It was an appointment I had to schedule 6 weeks ago because they simply had no spaces available any sooner. She looked at that chart for a long time but didn't say anything. If I go on what the doctor said, it sounds like they called him in from a day off. I heard two other people say they were there to see the same doctor. I have to assume he was called in to see patients the office staff had been booked, when he thought he was free.
To compound their uselessness, the nurse/receptionist puts me in the little examining room but doen't include any of the documentation of my file. So the doctor had to leave for what must have been 10 minutes, to find the results of tests that he'd had me do, and the notes he'd written last time.
The whole experience was a gong-show nightmare. I think he left the room about 5 times, to look something up or get more information. Each trek away was at least 5 minutes of waiting. Meanwhile I'm sitting there in my shorts, and nothing else, because that's what the nurse woman said to do. He's supposed to be giving me a physical, right? All he did for examing was look in my throat, my right ear, and do some listening with the stethesope. Now admittedly, I'm probably in pretty good health. Nevertheless, I did all this blasted waiting for that much interest in how I am?
Anyway, we get to the point of what I'm concerned about, and I tell him the problems I'm having. Lots of diarrhea, bad headaches, neck pain, dizzy spells. At the very least he did hone in on the damn headaches and we investigated that for a few minutes. (oh yeah, he also examined my feet, for reasons that are not clear to me) Sounds like migraines, he says to me. At least you got that right! So he offers me some migraine medication and promises to book me in to see a neurologist. So maybe we're going to get somewhere with the headaches.
But he gives me these migraine pills and I ask, is there anything wrong with taking these with my other medications? He doesn't know (obviously) and thus we had another long trip out of the room. Well golly gee shit, turns out the migraine pills ARE contra-indicated for people taking Prozac. It is possible to get something called 'serotonin syndrome'. I ask if that's bad and he says yeah, it could kill you. So he put exactly that much thought into prescribing me a medication, given the medical history I'd now told him about twice.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Were you ever just sitting around, kinda bored, and you got an idea into your head? Nothing bizarre or strange, just something that seemed like a good idea? But it got stuck there and you couldn't get it out until you satisfied the notion?
That happened to me today. I was sitting in French class and I got hungry. Which led me to think, I'd like one of those wrap sandwiches like I've had before. This necessitated a trip to Subway.
Did you ever go to Subway, later in the night, privately expecting it to be a quick and painless experience? Then you see a line and you're secretly disappointed and a little bit annoyed? That also happened to me today.
But, as I opened this post, I had a craving in me for a wrap from Subway so just walking away wasn't an option. Nevertheless it was one of the most painful Subway experiences of my life.
Is this what we've degenerated to? Is this all we have left for staff to work at Subway? I don't fault the poor woman who was trying to make all these subs. She's an immigrant. She's just trying to do the best she can. But who is the BLOODY asshole that stranded this woman alone in the Subway? She clearly couldn't handle working by herself. This was painfully obvious. It took me 5 minutes to get my sandwich AFTER I got to the front of the line. I probably stood in line for 20 minutes before I made it to the counter.
And it wasn't that busy. There was 4 people in front of me. That's assuming you count the smug, fur trading little bitches that were at the front of the line as one group. I have a lot of choice words for those two rug munching little whores. Let's leave it at, they deserved to have their designer haute cuisine Subway SANDWICHES jammed straight up the v-notch and left to cause a nasty yeast infection.
Back to the line. Its like watching a train wreck. You don't wanna look but you can't help yourself. Everything is moving so slowly that all you can do is watch the carnage. And that's what it was. This poor, immigrant woman is trying her very best to make a half dozen sandwiches. Either she's new to this, hasn't been well trained, or this just isn't her calling in life. Nevertheless she was slow on a glacial scale. And everyone is getting pissed. But you can't do anything to help her because she's the only Subway employee and we're just hungry sandwich eaters. It just so, bloody SAD.
So here's to you manager of Subway. I hope you choke on your blood sausage tonight. Your staffing decision is inexcusable.
That happened to me today. I was sitting in French class and I got hungry. Which led me to think, I'd like one of those wrap sandwiches like I've had before. This necessitated a trip to Subway.
Did you ever go to Subway, later in the night, privately expecting it to be a quick and painless experience? Then you see a line and you're secretly disappointed and a little bit annoyed? That also happened to me today.
But, as I opened this post, I had a craving in me for a wrap from Subway so just walking away wasn't an option. Nevertheless it was one of the most painful Subway experiences of my life.
Is this what we've degenerated to? Is this all we have left for staff to work at Subway? I don't fault the poor woman who was trying to make all these subs. She's an immigrant. She's just trying to do the best she can. But who is the BLOODY asshole that stranded this woman alone in the Subway? She clearly couldn't handle working by herself. This was painfully obvious. It took me 5 minutes to get my sandwich AFTER I got to the front of the line. I probably stood in line for 20 minutes before I made it to the counter.
And it wasn't that busy. There was 4 people in front of me. That's assuming you count the smug, fur trading little bitches that were at the front of the line as one group. I have a lot of choice words for those two rug munching little whores. Let's leave it at, they deserved to have their designer haute cuisine Subway SANDWICHES jammed straight up the v-notch and left to cause a nasty yeast infection.
Back to the line. Its like watching a train wreck. You don't wanna look but you can't help yourself. Everything is moving so slowly that all you can do is watch the carnage. And that's what it was. This poor, immigrant woman is trying her very best to make a half dozen sandwiches. Either she's new to this, hasn't been well trained, or this just isn't her calling in life. Nevertheless she was slow on a glacial scale. And everyone is getting pissed. But you can't do anything to help her because she's the only Subway employee and we're just hungry sandwich eaters. It just so, bloody SAD.
So here's to you manager of Subway. I hope you choke on your blood sausage tonight. Your staffing decision is inexcusable.
Monday, April 06, 2009
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Thursday, April 02, 2009
When I was flying home last week, I had my Playstation Portable in my coat pocket. I was playing football in the terminal and I didn’t finish the game, so I just put the PSP in my pocket so I could get on the plane, get seated, and finish the game. Well I had Row 2 so there was no, beneath the seat ahead of you, spot and I had to put my backpack in the overhead bin. The consequence of all this is, when I finished my game of football, the only place I had to store my PSP was back in my coat pocket.
The problem with this is, I don’t have deep pockets on that coat. When the plane took off, and banked up hard, all the stuff in my pockets fell out, including my phone and PSP. The PSP ended up three rows back and towards the aisle, so it made quite the trek just falling out of my pocket.
I mention all of this because, in falling out of my pocket and skidding across the plane, one of the little buttons on it fell off and was irretrievably lost. My PSP is fine, and I can play all the games okay. It’s just missing this button.
Cut to today, when I drove around Saskatoon trying to find a store that could sell me a replacement for this button that I could just, stick on, and go back to playing as if the airplane incident never happened. I went to EB Games, which I thought was my best bet. No luck. I went to the Sony Store. He said I was SOL and should try calling Sony and he gave me the number. I went to Toys’R’Us too and asked there, because I was buying my nephew a birthday present anyway. The guy sympathized but couldn’t help either.
So I call Sony. First of all I went through automated phone service HELL. Eventually I get a service guy. I explain to him my problem. I lost the little button that goes on the joystick of my PSP. How can I get a new one?
He asks me a bunch of questions, is anything broken off, is the PSP damaged, and so on. I answer no to everything. I just lost the little button on my PSP. Can I please have any another one?
He puts me on hold for a minute. When he comes back he tells me:
They can not send me a replacement for this little button. I would have to send the WHOLE unit in for service. They don’t have replacement buttons for people to buy. My PSP would have to be discarded, and I would be issued a full replacement unit. To do all of this would cost $79.95 plus GST for a grand total of $82.95.
$83 to replace the stupid button on my PSP. Oh, and he got the province that I live in wrong THREE damn times!!
The problem with this is, I don’t have deep pockets on that coat. When the plane took off, and banked up hard, all the stuff in my pockets fell out, including my phone and PSP. The PSP ended up three rows back and towards the aisle, so it made quite the trek just falling out of my pocket.
I mention all of this because, in falling out of my pocket and skidding across the plane, one of the little buttons on it fell off and was irretrievably lost. My PSP is fine, and I can play all the games okay. It’s just missing this button.
Cut to today, when I drove around Saskatoon trying to find a store that could sell me a replacement for this button that I could just, stick on, and go back to playing as if the airplane incident never happened. I went to EB Games, which I thought was my best bet. No luck. I went to the Sony Store. He said I was SOL and should try calling Sony and he gave me the number. I went to Toys’R’Us too and asked there, because I was buying my nephew a birthday present anyway. The guy sympathized but couldn’t help either.
So I call Sony. First of all I went through automated phone service HELL. Eventually I get a service guy. I explain to him my problem. I lost the little button that goes on the joystick of my PSP. How can I get a new one?
He asks me a bunch of questions, is anything broken off, is the PSP damaged, and so on. I answer no to everything. I just lost the little button on my PSP. Can I please have any another one?
He puts me on hold for a minute. When he comes back he tells me:
They can not send me a replacement for this little button. I would have to send the WHOLE unit in for service. They don’t have replacement buttons for people to buy. My PSP would have to be discarded, and I would be issued a full replacement unit. To do all of this would cost $79.95 plus GST for a grand total of $82.95.
$83 to replace the stupid button on my PSP. Oh, and he got the province that I live in wrong THREE damn times!!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Things That Piss Me Off
Why do windshield wipers have to come in 1500 different sizes/types/variations? What possible purpose does it serve to make me stand in front of a wall filled with windshield wiper replacement blades and have NO BLOODY CLUE which one I should buy?
I mean honestly, can't we pare this down a bit? Is it REALLY necessary to have them available in lengths from 12" to 28" with every possible increment in between? I swear I saw some that were at half inch increments. What purpose does this serve?
In 100+ years of automotive innovation, no one has thought to standardize the size of the damn windshield wipers? I find this bordering on farcical. I have a shredded windshield wiper. I would like to buy a replacement. Why do I have to study a book larger than the text for an introductory physics class to figure out which one I need?
And on that note, why can't they even standardize on one size for a particular model of vehicle? What the hell is this need to know the year of my vehicle too!?! Okay, I'm a jackass and didn't research this ahead of time. I have to consult the book. I try and look something up in this infernal, blasted thing and I have to know about 96 god damn configuration options for my vehicle, just to buy damn wipers. What the hell is this garbage!?!
I gave up. It was just too annoying. I'll sit down, do the doctoral thesis worth of research required to buy wiper blades, from home tonight. I'm sure this will require a computer, Google searches, and probably reference to an arcane auto parts site I'll find in a deep, dark corner of the internet, visited only by porn crawling bots and men of dubious morality.
Why do windshield wipers have to come in 1500 different sizes/types/variations? What possible purpose does it serve to make me stand in front of a wall filled with windshield wiper replacement blades and have NO BLOODY CLUE which one I should buy?
I mean honestly, can't we pare this down a bit? Is it REALLY necessary to have them available in lengths from 12" to 28" with every possible increment in between? I swear I saw some that were at half inch increments. What purpose does this serve?
In 100+ years of automotive innovation, no one has thought to standardize the size of the damn windshield wipers? I find this bordering on farcical. I have a shredded windshield wiper. I would like to buy a replacement. Why do I have to study a book larger than the text for an introductory physics class to figure out which one I need?
And on that note, why can't they even standardize on one size for a particular model of vehicle? What the hell is this need to know the year of my vehicle too!?! Okay, I'm a jackass and didn't research this ahead of time. I have to consult the book. I try and look something up in this infernal, blasted thing and I have to know about 96 god damn configuration options for my vehicle, just to buy damn wipers. What the hell is this garbage!?!
I gave up. It was just too annoying. I'll sit down, do the doctoral thesis worth of research required to buy wiper blades, from home tonight. I'm sure this will require a computer, Google searches, and probably reference to an arcane auto parts site I'll find in a deep, dark corner of the internet, visited only by porn crawling bots and men of dubious morality.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Title: Laying An Egg
Author: 2008-2009 Saskatoon Blades
Theme: The more things change, the more they stay the same
Why does this keep happening? I think its time to step back and have a serious, introspective look at what is going on with this hockey franchise. We make it to the playoffs and its all the same story over again. The Blades breeze into the playoffs with a great record, playing solid hockey and they meet a team that is much worse than they are, and the Blades lay a big, fat egg.
Why?
At this point I think we have to contemplate the idea that something is fundamentally wrong with the franchise. Is this not the flagship franchise of the WHL? If its not, then shouldn't it be? Its a big city (WHL wise) and major-junior hockey is the only game in town here. The Blades can't draw 3,000 fans to a regular season game consistently and when they finally get a decent (but not a full house) crowd for a playoff game, they drop a load in their collective drawers.
Why does this happen?
Over and over again, the Blades continue to fall on their swords. For every gain that they make, they stumble over themselves to screw it up. The faces keep changing (this is junior hockey) but we keep seeing the same story. When the Blades can make the playoffs (something sorely missing over the last decade) they choose to flame out in the first round.
They can't drop an egg in round one. It can't happen. They just finally pulled it together enough to make the playoffs in the first place, and then they lose to a 7th place team. Get ready for a lot of echo in the building next season, when we've got 15,000 seats, and we can't get 20% of them full for a game against Prince Albert.
Things have got to change.
Author: 2008-2009 Saskatoon Blades
Theme: The more things change, the more they stay the same
Why does this keep happening? I think its time to step back and have a serious, introspective look at what is going on with this hockey franchise. We make it to the playoffs and its all the same story over again. The Blades breeze into the playoffs with a great record, playing solid hockey and they meet a team that is much worse than they are, and the Blades lay a big, fat egg.
Why?
At this point I think we have to contemplate the idea that something is fundamentally wrong with the franchise. Is this not the flagship franchise of the WHL? If its not, then shouldn't it be? Its a big city (WHL wise) and major-junior hockey is the only game in town here. The Blades can't draw 3,000 fans to a regular season game consistently and when they finally get a decent (but not a full house) crowd for a playoff game, they drop a load in their collective drawers.
Why does this happen?
Over and over again, the Blades continue to fall on their swords. For every gain that they make, they stumble over themselves to screw it up. The faces keep changing (this is junior hockey) but we keep seeing the same story. When the Blades can make the playoffs (something sorely missing over the last decade) they choose to flame out in the first round.
They can't drop an egg in round one. It can't happen. They just finally pulled it together enough to make the playoffs in the first place, and then they lose to a 7th place team. Get ready for a lot of echo in the building next season, when we've got 15,000 seats, and we can't get 20% of them full for a game against Prince Albert.
Things have got to change.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Blog Quote Of The Day:
William Strannix: I got tired of coming up with last-minute desperate solutions to impossible problems created by other fucking people.
Casey Ryback: All of your ridiculous pitiful antics aren't gonna change a thing. You and me, we're *puppets* in the same sick game. We serve the same master, and he's a lunatic and he's ungrateful. But there's nothing we can do about it. You and me, we're the same.
William Strannix: I got tired of coming up with last-minute desperate solutions to impossible problems created by other fucking people.
Casey Ryback: All of your ridiculous pitiful antics aren't gonna change a thing. You and me, we're *puppets* in the same sick game. We serve the same master, and he's a lunatic and he's ungrateful. But there's nothing we can do about it. You and me, we're the same.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
I want to warn you ahead of time, this is not for the faint of heart. The language and content of this video is highly explicit.
However, if you can get past that, this is the singularly most outrageously funny thing I have heard in quite some time. If you can handle some frank language, get ready for a powerful laugh.
Squeal Happy Whores
However, if you can get past that, this is the singularly most outrageously funny thing I have heard in quite some time. If you can handle some frank language, get ready for a powerful laugh.
Squeal Happy Whores
For the record . . .
I do NOT want to know what the god damn wind chill is. That doesn't tell me anything. I want to know what the TEMPERATURE is!!! Just tell me the damn air temperature. What is the weather outside.
Wind chill is NOT the temperature! Its some stupid, made up nonsense number that I don't give a rat's ass about. Who cares about the wind chill? In an ordinary day, do I walk any significant distance? Do YOU!?! I thought not.
So just tell me the bloody, god damn air temperature. Then I can decide if its actually cold out, or if you stupid assholes are just trying to scare us with your ultra-low 'wind chill' number.
Piss off and die.
Thank you.
I do NOT want to know what the god damn wind chill is. That doesn't tell me anything. I want to know what the TEMPERATURE is!!! Just tell me the damn air temperature. What is the weather outside.
Wind chill is NOT the temperature! Its some stupid, made up nonsense number that I don't give a rat's ass about. Who cares about the wind chill? In an ordinary day, do I walk any significant distance? Do YOU!?! I thought not.
So just tell me the bloody, god damn air temperature. Then I can decide if its actually cold out, or if you stupid assholes are just trying to scare us with your ultra-low 'wind chill' number.
Piss off and die.
Thank you.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Do you sometimes get the feeling that the news is just a self-fulfilling prophesy?
U.S. economy in meltdown
Global climate change worse than expected
Teen commits vicious crime against cat
Where were these stories even five years ago when times were (relatively speaking) good? Okay, maybe five years is a bad example because Bush the idiot had already invaded countries and was doing his level best to destroy the world. How about we go back ten years ago? Everyone seemed more upbeat about things.
Perhaps, and this is just pie-in-the-sky thinking, if we focused on how to fix the problems, instead of screaming like Chicken Little and insisting that the world was going to end, maybe it would all be alright?
I dunno. Its just a thought.
Somehow I can't see how spending another $700 billion is gonna fix a problem where the people involved have already spent more than they have.
U.S. economy in meltdown
Global climate change worse than expected
Teen commits vicious crime against cat
Where were these stories even five years ago when times were (relatively speaking) good? Okay, maybe five years is a bad example because Bush the idiot had already invaded countries and was doing his level best to destroy the world. How about we go back ten years ago? Everyone seemed more upbeat about things.
Perhaps, and this is just pie-in-the-sky thinking, if we focused on how to fix the problems, instead of screaming like Chicken Little and insisting that the world was going to end, maybe it would all be alright?
I dunno. Its just a thought.
Somehow I can't see how spending another $700 billion is gonna fix a problem where the people involved have already spent more than they have.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Here is something I wrote while I was on vacation. I said it happened last night, but it was actually about two weeks ago now.
It felt pretty real because the dream was a lot like my actual working life is. In fact, I dreamt that I was at work.
The first part I remember clearly I was on a job site. To be specific, it was a mine. There was lot of dirt piled all over the place, and a huge pile of minerals off in the distance. What was kinda strange is that the part of the mine I was on seemed very new, and rather sparse. Usually mine sites have building crammed together (sort of) with not a lot of wasted space. Where I was there was only one huge building, built a lot like your average farm shop.
I went inside and there were guys working. A big guy, almost too big to be real, came over to me and started talking. They had a water treatment issue (obviously, or why would I be there) and they wanted to know what I could do for them.
What wasn’t so strange is that they were looking to me for help because my bosses (real one’s) had gotten in touch with these guys and said that we could work miracles. That’s not such an unusual thing. What made it weird is when I found out what they expected to do.
I didn’t really get the point of the problem at first. They explained that they wanted to run the mine waste through the water treatment equipment before discharging it. That’s not such an usual thing to suggest. However they kept going on about how difficult this was proving to be, and how other people had failed at the attempt before. At one point the big guy stopped in explaining the problem, and went into this story about a previous supplier that came in with these HUGE tanks, and absolutely massive pipes to connect to the feed system. Everything was in steel. He was talking about pipes that an ordinary man could walk inside. Now this was strange because the scale of things that I’m commonly doing is in the 4 inch or 6 inch as the largest pipe size. I’ve designed something with 12 inch pipe but we won’t be building it.
So the story goes on and everything seems more and more weird. They are talking about weird temperatures and absurdly small pressures and I start to get the feeling, is this ultra-filtration? Then they show me a piece of equipment that a previous supplier left behind and it looks a lot like an ultra-filtration module from GE Water. Or at least that’s what’s stamped on it, and its blue in color.
Then the big guy starts talking about temperatures of 3000 Kelvin and I almost dropped my lunch. That’s preposterous! You don’t treat water at that temperature. Its not even water then. They don’t want to treat water, he tells me, but molten potassium sulphate. Apparently the whole building I’m in is built over a storage pit where they have a massive amount of potassium sulphate, all in molten form at 3000 K. I honestly know next to nothing about potassium sulphate but this big guy assures me that if potassium sulphate is not kept under pressure, it immediately changes to a molten form that exists at 3000 K. I’m starting to get the idea that this is a dream now.
But for some strange reason I still make plans like I can treat this like water. The whole thing is getting clear now. They want me to put potassium sulphate, at 3000 K, through a reverse osmosis membrane, extract the water, so that they have pure potassium sulphate they can sell. But the craziest thing about this hare brained scheme is, I’m actually buying into it. I start thinking I can do this!
So I’m doing a bunch of research and looking up different membranes. I’m trying to find something that would be resistant to the temperatures they are talking about, or coming up with a way to re-pressurize the molten potassium sulphate.
The last thing I remember is the floor to the building starts to come away from the foundation and I see this molten potassium sulphate burbling in the reservoir under the building. I’m shocked about this but no one else seems to even worry about it. I drive away still thinking of ways to treat this scenario, while the building collapses into the reservoir.
It felt pretty real because the dream was a lot like my actual working life is. In fact, I dreamt that I was at work.
The first part I remember clearly I was on a job site. To be specific, it was a mine. There was lot of dirt piled all over the place, and a huge pile of minerals off in the distance. What was kinda strange is that the part of the mine I was on seemed very new, and rather sparse. Usually mine sites have building crammed together (sort of) with not a lot of wasted space. Where I was there was only one huge building, built a lot like your average farm shop.
I went inside and there were guys working. A big guy, almost too big to be real, came over to me and started talking. They had a water treatment issue (obviously, or why would I be there) and they wanted to know what I could do for them.
What wasn’t so strange is that they were looking to me for help because my bosses (real one’s) had gotten in touch with these guys and said that we could work miracles. That’s not such an unusual thing. What made it weird is when I found out what they expected to do.
I didn’t really get the point of the problem at first. They explained that they wanted to run the mine waste through the water treatment equipment before discharging it. That’s not such an usual thing to suggest. However they kept going on about how difficult this was proving to be, and how other people had failed at the attempt before. At one point the big guy stopped in explaining the problem, and went into this story about a previous supplier that came in with these HUGE tanks, and absolutely massive pipes to connect to the feed system. Everything was in steel. He was talking about pipes that an ordinary man could walk inside. Now this was strange because the scale of things that I’m commonly doing is in the 4 inch or 6 inch as the largest pipe size. I’ve designed something with 12 inch pipe but we won’t be building it.
So the story goes on and everything seems more and more weird. They are talking about weird temperatures and absurdly small pressures and I start to get the feeling, is this ultra-filtration? Then they show me a piece of equipment that a previous supplier left behind and it looks a lot like an ultra-filtration module from GE Water. Or at least that’s what’s stamped on it, and its blue in color.
Then the big guy starts talking about temperatures of 3000 Kelvin and I almost dropped my lunch. That’s preposterous! You don’t treat water at that temperature. Its not even water then. They don’t want to treat water, he tells me, but molten potassium sulphate. Apparently the whole building I’m in is built over a storage pit where they have a massive amount of potassium sulphate, all in molten form at 3000 K. I honestly know next to nothing about potassium sulphate but this big guy assures me that if potassium sulphate is not kept under pressure, it immediately changes to a molten form that exists at 3000 K. I’m starting to get the idea that this is a dream now.
But for some strange reason I still make plans like I can treat this like water. The whole thing is getting clear now. They want me to put potassium sulphate, at 3000 K, through a reverse osmosis membrane, extract the water, so that they have pure potassium sulphate they can sell. But the craziest thing about this hare brained scheme is, I’m actually buying into it. I start thinking I can do this!
So I’m doing a bunch of research and looking up different membranes. I’m trying to find something that would be resistant to the temperatures they are talking about, or coming up with a way to re-pressurize the molten potassium sulphate.
The last thing I remember is the floor to the building starts to come away from the foundation and I see this molten potassium sulphate burbling in the reservoir under the building. I’m shocked about this but no one else seems to even worry about it. I drive away still thinking of ways to treat this scenario, while the building collapses into the reservoir.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Monday, February 02, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Why does everything have to be so difficult?
I have an MP3 player. Its actually a very good one. It can play videos, in addition to music. Its got a nice interface, even if the touch bar is a little sensitive. I get a little frustrated with it sometimes, because its so touchy, but the output from it is stellar.
The trouble is, its not brand new anymore. And being not brand new anymore means that NOTHING wants to work with it. As you will note from the time stamp on this post, I am awake at 2:30 in the morning as I struggle to make this work. I've finally gotten my computer to recognize the damn thing but I've basically blown off sleeping now.
Why can't stuff just work? I say this about ten times a day but why can't things JUST . . . EFFING . . . WORK!?!?!?!
I have an MP3 player. Its actually a very good one. It can play videos, in addition to music. Its got a nice interface, even if the touch bar is a little sensitive. I get a little frustrated with it sometimes, because its so touchy, but the output from it is stellar.
The trouble is, its not brand new anymore. And being not brand new anymore means that NOTHING wants to work with it. As you will note from the time stamp on this post, I am awake at 2:30 in the morning as I struggle to make this work. I've finally gotten my computer to recognize the damn thing but I've basically blown off sleeping now.
Why can't stuff just work? I say this about ten times a day but why can't things JUST . . . EFFING . . . WORK!?!?!?!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Shopping carts do not belong in the express lane.
I swear these people were too stupid to live. I actually put most of the blame on the woman because she looked like she was a heinous bitch and the husband was just doing whatever he could not to be in public anymore.
They were in the express lane, but they had a shopping cart.
But first, more stupidity.
There is a long line for the express lane. I think there was 8 people in it. The line was VERY obviously turned to the right because of its length. Nevertheless miss 'I'm Too Important to Wait In Line' cuts ahead of three people and just lines up behind the person most directly straight out from the counter. At least 45 seconds of dirty looks got her to go to the back of the line.
Then I stopped to truly examine this situation. There was two of them and they had four items. They were, and I note:
- one small beef roast
- 1 L container of milk
- bag of apples
- bag of indeterminate vegetables
For this they needed a shopping cart. For two of them. Not a hand basket. This was the full, four wheels, can hold $1000 worth of groceries. Four four items and one serious bad attitude.
Why is it we can't exterminate stupid people on sight!?!
I swear these people were too stupid to live. I actually put most of the blame on the woman because she looked like she was a heinous bitch and the husband was just doing whatever he could not to be in public anymore.
They were in the express lane, but they had a shopping cart.
But first, more stupidity.
There is a long line for the express lane. I think there was 8 people in it. The line was VERY obviously turned to the right because of its length. Nevertheless miss 'I'm Too Important to Wait In Line' cuts ahead of three people and just lines up behind the person most directly straight out from the counter. At least 45 seconds of dirty looks got her to go to the back of the line.
Then I stopped to truly examine this situation. There was two of them and they had four items. They were, and I note:
- one small beef roast
- 1 L container of milk
- bag of apples
- bag of indeterminate vegetables
For this they needed a shopping cart. For two of them. Not a hand basket. This was the full, four wheels, can hold $1000 worth of groceries. Four four items and one serious bad attitude.
Why is it we can't exterminate stupid people on sight!?!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Let me just run a scenario by you. Tell me what you think.
For the sake of argument, let's just say we all started driving electric cars tomorrow. No more gasoline/diesel engines on the road anymore. They are all gone.
However our electrical power generation didn't change its complexity at the same time. We still manufactured most of our electricity from coal.
Wouldn't that mean that we were essentially driving coal powered cars?
Think about it.
For the sake of argument, let's just say we all started driving electric cars tomorrow. No more gasoline/diesel engines on the road anymore. They are all gone.
However our electrical power generation didn't change its complexity at the same time. We still manufactured most of our electricity from coal.
Wouldn't that mean that we were essentially driving coal powered cars?
Think about it.
