Something witty about ducks.

So I go to Fanshawe today to get my student card ( I seem to have misplaced the last one..again). And what do i see in the smoking section? Under a table?

<---This! My phone doesnt take the best pics so let me explain it to you. It is a duck. In a nest it seems to have built for itself out of newspaper and ciagrette butts.

I shit you not. This really grossed me out. I wonder if the baby duckies will have congenital defects? Or quack like Janis Joplin?

Either way, you have to wonder about the situation our environment is in when ducks find the rattyass butts from cigareetes appropriate material in which to build their nest. Maybe someone should call DAS and report her. This seems to be a good indication that she will not provide a good home for her babies.

Fanshaw is not only aware of this duck but she comes every year! Once the babies are born they snow fence her in and put a pool in there too. I will try to get a better camera and take pics and time goes on. I want to make sure i document any bruises or broken limbs on the babies.......just in case.

mmmmmmm

Have you ever met someone and without getting to know them terribly well, you just want to strip them naked and cover them in pudding?
Last night Jon and I went to the Brass to watch the hockey game (which was fantastic i might add even thought the Sens blew a 4-0 lead. We still won hee hee!) and Jon proceeded to get slightly shall we say......snookered? He is very amusing when like this.

I saw a gentleman that made me want to do dirty naughty things to him. Things that can only be described properly in German. (*note: whenever in a porn store i have noticed that all the good stuff only has packaging in german. At least i assume its the good stuff. I can't read german. So i have now equated all things naughty with german)
I just want to slather him in pudding and lick it all off.

I am not depraved.

I just really think that 2 of my favourite things should somehow come together in an existential harmony that benefits both my libido and my stomach. Pudding and sex. Doesn't that sound delicious?

My wonderful friend Haley was nice enough to pass along my phone number as i had to take Jon home. She was also terrific enough to mention to my little wet dream about my thing with the pudding. One can only hope that he is a cool kitty and thinks that it sounds as fantastic as i do.

well then.....

Jon and I went downtown
Jon and I ate sushi
Jon and I went to the library
Jon and i left the library
Jon got a seatbelt ticket by 2 bicycle cops
Jon owes the city of london $110
Jon went home to have a nap
Jon is in a bad mood

The Sens better win tonight.

Double damn and no take backs!

I am unprofessional! ME! ME! Can you believe that? Can you wrap your little minds around the fact the today I was called unprofessional! By someone I have never even met!
How is calling people 'potato face and cowboy' unprofessional? Or asking them to buy me a pony for my birthday? Geez! This world is fucked up.

So i decided, with the fact that i need a constant income in which to buy pixie sticks and porn, to become MORE PROFESSIONAL.
You know what the reaction of every single person i talked to was??

I SEEMED DEPRESSED!

See, this is what happened: (And i know this because i took a scociology class once.)
I have been working at the Whinybaby Cesspool for almost 7 weeks now. And I have acted how i always act. Like me. I am a joy if i do say so myself. I have been described as
-weird
-eccentric
-animated
-unusual
-someitmes slightly unbalanced

Dont i sound interesting?

So these weinies have gotten used to how i talk and act. Some of them didnt like it and went to their boss and complained.
Now, they are all wondering where the hell i got a frontal lobotomy in such a short time.
So i am torn as to what to do now. Do i go back to how i was before or keep doign the whole professional thing? I gotta tell ya, after 4 hours i started to feel really sick to my stomach. No wonder normal people look so uptight all the time. It was very exhausting trying to be normal.

blow that breeze back the way it came

So i just watched Speed. And you know what i realized? Over the past eleventy-hump years i have been so distracted by Keanu Reeves' good looks that i didnt notice what a godawful actor he is.
When you take all the CGI out (Matrix) and blowing stuff up (Constantine), you are left with Speed. A horrible attempt at crap. It aspires to be crap. It is so far below crap that mushrooms wont even grow on it.
I think Keanu's best film was probably Bill & Ted. Every character he has played since is a version of that trying to play another character. It's like watching an elephant trying to be a dildo while dancing like an irishman. Just doesnt work at all.

Last Weekend of freedom

This weekend past was the last one i have off until august. I went back to Kincardine. Wonderful weather, got to see a lot of my friends and had a good tequila induced night on Sat. Some points of rememberance:

-okay, i cant remember anything. Apparently I texted Haley some nonsense. I seem to have forgotten what inspired that aside from the obvious Mexican concoctions.

I am going to ramble about a few things that have pissed me off this past week.

The dude who killed all those people at Virginia Tech? He isnt 'rising up from the grave to steal more time away from the victims'. That would be the media playing his shit over and over and over and over again. I am sick of watching it. I get it. He was fucked in the head. No need to analyze him anymore.

Again with the fat people epidemic talk. The Toronto Star just did a 3 day exclusive about that damn stomach stapling thing. Is this really a good idea? To staple someone's stomach so they can only eat a little then be full? Isnt that the surgical equivalent of a DIET? Wouldnt it just be less intrusive and painful to, oh i dont know, not eat that much?

Talked with Mr. Q. He didnt find my retrospective of our naked adventures that amusing. Perhaps for my next blog i should go into more detail. About the sizes of certain things. Like ears........yeah he has big..........ears! He said he is not the 'yelling and moaning' type. I have no problem with that. It was the weird lack of direction that i found.....disconcerting. Wouldnt mind trying him out again if onl to see if i could figure out a way to make it work. Like shadow puppets or a harnass! Like a pony! Oh, wouldnt that be just delicious? I will attach a harnass to Mr. Q so he will know when and what and how i like certain things! And when we are done i shall give him a carrot.

The guy I have been schtupping is being very hot-cold-hot-cold. I know i am just a convenience for him. Which is fine as he is the same to me. I wonder if he knows that??? Females can have schtup out of convenience too. Most guys think they are SO fantastic that females would just LOVE to have a relationship with them. Perhaps the next time we are schtupping i should say "Thank you come again!" when we are through and give him a coupon for a free slurpee.

I interpreted for a job orientation for one of my friends. The only thing more boring than a wal-mart orientation is having to sit through it and not actually be working there. I mean, does anyone really give a tiny rats ass about the owner's life history? And I will mention that there are certain words that dont have signs and are very difficult to translate. How do you explain to a deaf person that 'the popular culture impact of wal-mart transcends any other company today"? Or that 'integrity is like an egg'?

Reason #2 why you never put money in your mouth:

Jon had an interesting weekend involving people poo-ing on $5 bills and watching to see who would pick them up and keep them. He told me the story and i was torn between wanting to vomit and throwing a parade for whomever thougt this up. I dont know how much money they actually went through, but Jon said it was worth it. I think if we bring back the dollar bill, we will see a lot more of this.

Which brings me to reason #1, the strip bar downtown lost their license for booze. Because someone pissed off some cops. I am always impressed with huge displays of authority but i am super pissed that i have to go a lot father now to see some titties.

the things you want to say part 1

K: I think we need a break. I need some time to think
ME: Oh. Okay
What i REALLY wanted to say: You huge jerkwad! You have no idea how awesome i am and how i am WAY too good for you! You are a committment phobe and that is no way to go through life. Bite me.


Bank: We can't give you a loan based on your previous history of debt
Me: Okay thanks for your time
WIRWTS: How the hell am i supposed to get OUT of debt without this loan? Its called a CONSOLIDATION loan for a reason! Douchebags.

Any phone person ever: Can I put you on hold?
Me: Sure, no problem
WIRWTS: Fuck you! Like i dont have anything else to do but sit and wait for YOU! Who the HELL are you? Last i looked the fate of the free world did not depend on you answering that call!

Twinkies: *wiggle wiggle bounce bounce hair-flip eyelash flutter*
Me: *gag*
WIRWTS: Get the fuck out of the gym you sad little strippers in training! I have no use for you! You disgust me! Douchebags.

The Twinkie Defense

Judge: Miss Mischief you have been charge with the assault of 15 girls. What say you?
M: Well your honour, I choose to use the 'twinkie' defense
Judge: Please explain
M: Your honour, I go to the gym on a regular basis. I would like to put into evidence a picture of the work out clothes I wear. You will notice it is a t-shirt, jogging pants and running shoes. I wear no make up and my hair is in a pony tail
Judge: Get to the point!
M: You honour, I have reached my limit! I go to this gym to try and make myslef healthier and more fit. I put into evidence pictures of what they look like. You wil notice a common theme. They dress like twinkies. Shorty shorts, obviously not comfortable with their ass cheeks hanging out, halter tops with obscene amounts of cleavage, make-up and hairsprayed hair perfectly done for the bar. One can only assume they are at the gym to 'catch a man'.
If I would be allowed to vent for a moment your honour, you will understand my point:
These girls will take up limited gym equipment for lengthy periods of time on the lowest speed available. They do not sweat. They could perhaps use the defense of being aliens with no sweat glands, but I know better. They do not want to mess up their hair or make up. They parade around with bottles of designer water while the rest of us are sweating buckets down our faces. I think I speak for all serious members when i say that they make us feel like crap and we are sick of their prostitute attitudes and colour co-ordinated outfits.
I had to do it your honour. For the good of all of us who are serious at this
Judge: Yes Miss Mischief, but did you have to give them ALL atomic wedgies?
M: I did not give them all atomic wedgies your honour, as some of them weren't even wearing underwear. And the others were wearing g-strings. I did the best I could under the circumstances.
Judge: I see your point. I declare you not guilty in the eyes of the court but still sentence you to go to the Gap and buy better work out clothes. You will never catch a man wearing a t-shirt and jogging pants.

Oh is it Friday? And it's the 13th? Huh.

And here i thought it was going to be a good day. I went to my college and paid my tuition fees. This was a bit touchy as I was 10 days late doing it so i wasnt entirely certain they would let me. But they did. I took this as a sign of good things to come.

What the hell was i thinking? I mean, I have met me. I have lived in this body and this life for almost 28 years now. What on earth made me think i would have a good day?

Went to the gym and had a adequate work out. Afterwards went into my car, lit a smoke and proceeded to get rear ended. My car moved 2 feet. I whacked my head off the steering wheel. I have a huge bump on my head.

Come home. Phone rings. I answer it. It is work, so you know this will be good.

I asked Q to work 7am to 10am for me. (I would come in at 10 and work until 8pm) She said it was no problem. However she then went to my boss and bitched about how i was trying to force her to take my shift. So i now have to do it anyway.

Phone rings.

Since my OSAP got completely and royally buggered for this semester, the NATIONAL STUDENT LOAN OFFICE aka The Nazi Brigade of Repayment says i have to start repaying my loans May 31 to the tune of $395 a month. Even though i am a full time student. Paying tuition. And rent. And food and bills and gas and daycare. Working a part time job.

It's only 4 pm!!!

I expect for the rest of the day for the following things to happen:
-an elephant to sit on my foot and break it
-the hydro to go out and all the food in my fridge to waste; what little there is of it
-a small fire centralized entirely on just my clothes
-a bird to kamikaze into my window and die on my balcony. Again. (This happened 2 summers ago. I wasnt entirely certain what to do with the body. So i threw it off my balcony. Don't worry, I made sure there was no one underneath.)
-a parking ticket
-find out i got someone pregnant. Now i know this is physiologically impossible, but hey! It's me! And if it's bad, it will happen.

On the brightside, I got asked on a date.
Well, not so much a date as a 'he needs to go to a wedding 2 hours away and doesnt have a car and could you please drive me even if that means you have to be my date' date. Doesnt that sound romantic? Doesnt it just want to make you vomit chocolate hearts?

Crappiest Job in the World

Oh children gather 'round for a tale i shall spin of the Crappiest Job in the World'.
I have mentioned before what it is I do. But let's get into specifics shall we?
630am I go into work and sit my ass at a computer. I make myself comfortable as I will be there for 14.5 hours. I open up the files that let me see what sad degenerates could not possibly live without tv for one more day and start to organize 'runs' for up to 30 guys. This is where it gets complicated.
London, St. Thomas, Woodstock,Cambridge, Guelph, Kitchener, Waterloo, Brantford, Stratford and a bunch of little ass towns in between these make up what I have to organize. Oh, but there is more! There is a difference between basic calls (installs of internet, cable), service (fixing this shit when it goes bad) and RHP (phone). Now the RHP guys can do basic, service and RHP. Some service guys can do RHP and service, but the Basic guys can only do Basic. You following so far?
Now, there are night techs and day techs. An RHP can only do 2 RHP calls in one time frame. (They are broken up into MORN< MID< AFT< NGT. Sometimes, there are AM's and PM's and DAY calls) A service and basic can do 4 calls in one time frame. BUT an RHP can do one RHP and 2 service/basic calls. But only for their desinated shifts (night or day).

Here's where it gets REALLY fun.

If for some weird reason you have managed to figure all this crap out, our mighty overlord tells us in the morning exactly how many of what specific type of tech may go to any town at any given point in time. So in a busy city like Kitchener we may only have 1 RHP guy. Which makes it fun if we have 4 gazillion RHP calls.

Now, all this being said, and i havent managed to lose my mind trying to figure this crap out.....over the course of the day i get some of these techs BITCHING at me. Because i had the audacity to not realize that they live in Guelph, but i sent them to Waterloo. Fuck me! What a horrible person I am!
Over the day, extra calls are sent in and i have to try and give them to an appropriate person who is qualified to do that specific job.

So they will call me nasty names and insult my parentage. They will threaten to make me lose my job and make my life miserable. They will bitch about what a horribly long day they have had (8 hours) and whine to go home at EVERY oppurtunity. Yet not realize that after they go home i still have to sit there for 6.5 more hours!!

There is so much more to this job, like making sure all the runs are in a certain part of town and calling customers who dont speak any english. Sitting in a chair for a prolonged period of time in a room with no window, no tv, radio or internet, and no decorations at all. It is a white room. Thats it. A white freaking room.

And now there is construction going on in the office so i cant hear a goddamn thing when these buggers call me on the phone to complain that i gave them another call to complete before their shift ends in 4 hours.
Which i suppose is not a bad thing. Except for the horrible headache i have had for the past 3 days.

The end of all things

A father whose son was hung in a washroom, asphyxiated and died is campaigning to have a Dairy Queen commercial pulled off the air. It shows 2 boys being hung up on hooks by their underwear (a la atomic wedgie). DQ said in deference to their understanding of that specific families tragedy they would stop showing it in South western Ontario. The faher says this is not enough and it must be pulled entirely.

Are you freaking kidding me? I mean, are we serious about this?
There are certain places that we must never go even for the almighty buck. Making fun of the holocaust, african americans in the 50-70's, JFK, Jim jones etc. But this is because hundreds, thousands and sometimes millions of lives were affected by tragedy.

But to pull a commercial because one family is distraught?? What if we start pandering to everyone who has a problem with advertisements?

-The hilariously funny Mac-Pc ones get pulled because the PC guy reminds someone of the father who molested them?
-McDonalds has to stop because they do not understand the plight of people who have severe phobias of clowns
-All car commercials because it is insulting to the blind
-Tim Hortons because someone's mother died from a sever allergic reaction to caffeine

Have we become such a society where the mental happiness of one supercedes the happiness of the masses? ( I am not saying that advertisements make anyone happy, but we have all had a good chuckle at one time. And they do provide a service no matter how annoying. How else would you know where to buy that pair of glasses on sale?)
That boy dying is a tragedy. I understand that the family must feel awful watching that commercial. But one has to remember.....
They did not make that commercial based on that boys death! A team of people thought long and hard and did a lot of research into that commercial. They obviously found enough people during their testing that would enjoy it.
It would not surprise me if we find out that this father eventually sues DQ for mental anguish or some other such crap. And then perhaps we will know the real reason for his pitching a fit.

Have we become so self involved that a simple commercial will ruin our lives? Because it insults us or reminds us of somethign awful? Have we gone so far into the hole of 'I am the most important' that we completely ignore that these things are not directed at us personally?

When i read that article i was disgusted. Instead of taking that commercial and using it as an example for his fight against 'useless' deaths, he instead decides to fight to have it removed. Ignoring that 'useless' deaths happen all the time. He ironically brougt more attention to the commercial than it otherwise would have gotten. It would have lived its life and passedinto obscurity in a few weeks. Now people are going to go out of their way to watch it.How the hell does that help his cause?

Or, he could just not watch the damn tv. Last i looked their were no commercials in a freaking book.