White Trash Christmas

I have no frickin Idea who Bob Rivers is, but he wants all the Cherryville boys to have a Merry Christmas.

Check it out...

Just two more days of this... 

The new phonebook is here! I'm a somebody now!!

I just opened up my stats counter to see what kind of weird foreign blogs people had surfed to my site from... Scrolling down the list I find a Yahoo search result. I click on the link and it tells me that I was hit #18 on somebody's search for "bc bud smuggling", the hit was an excerpt taken from a joke in a post that I made two weeks ago. So either this dude saw something interesting in my search results caption, or he clicked on all 17 before me. I was curious about this guy. His resolved IP address told me that he came from a office network within "____.dhs.gov". I punched up www.dhs.gov, and guess what it is? The American Department of Homeland Security. Some dude who works in paranoid Yankee central was checkin out my site for possible leads on bud smuggling operations. That's so awesome.
Look Ma, I'm a potential threat to national security!!
You have to ask yourself... is this some guy with a red stapler who's paid to just surf the internet all day, lookin for crap to report people for? If that's the case, why wasn't his IP protected? Better yet, why is he using Yahoo to search? Wouldn't the American government have some crazy-powerful search engine that could scour everything in cyberspace? Or maybe it was just a computer, set to automatically scan for "trigger" words and check those links for more triggers? Who knows.

mmmm... fish

I cracked open a tin of kippered herring fillets at my desk today. I munched on them while working. They were good. The odor caused 3 different people to stop dead in their tracks as they entered my office, then wrinkle their noses in disgust. They asked what the smell was, and each time I just held up the tin to offer them some.. they all left. I'm going to buy a lot more.

Workspace relocation program

I made the official move into my new office this morning. Once the upstairs addition was complete, and all the admin/sales people had been pulled from their sardined cubicles and moved up there, we were left with a big open space downstairs. A couple new walls and a few coats of paint turned it into a few pretty nice offices. I called shotgun, and grabbed the one that has its own fax/copier/printer/coffee room. Not to mention a window for my plant, something the old office, (AKA: the dungeon), didn’t have. Being in a nice new office in the middle of the main building does have its disadvantages though... the offices beside me and across the hall were taken by the Western Division Supply Chain Manager (my boss), and the Western Division Operations Manager (my boss's boss). Guess I'd better show up on time tomorrow morning.
I'm looking forward to watching the walls come down in the dungeon, we're turning it into a lunch room for the new production line. I think when the time comes I'll grab a sledgehammer and lend a hand, it'll be cathartic.
Speaking of lending a hand, something really annoyed me today. Once I had arranged my desk and filing cabinets in the new digs, I was left with a rather bare spot just inside the door. I glanced at my jacket, tossed across the spare chair, and decided the bare spot was a perfect place for some coat hooks. I went down to maintenance, knowing that the box of hooks I bought them for hanging up hoses couldn’t have been used up yet. I stole a couple and borrowed their cordless drill. Once the hooks were up on the wall in my office, I went back to maintenance to return the drill… along the way I ran into one of the production workers who’s been there long enough to know me. He saw the drill in my hand… “Heyyy, Jeff! What’s this? An office boy with a workin tool?” This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten comments like that from knuckle-draggers out on the floor. Like whenever I felt inclined to grab a broom and sweep up in the stock room because the warehouse guys were too busy unloading trucks, or jumped on the forklift myself to unload a pallet when a truck driver was in a hurry and nobody else was around. Some dipshit would always come up to me and pull some witty remark out of his ass... Like “Hey, are you sure yer certified on that thing?” or “Don’t hurt yurself, you might get a blister from that broom.” Most of these guys have been there long enough to know that I started out in receiving and spent a year in the warehouse; they’ve seen me hauling boxes, unloading lumber trucks and doing routine maintenance all over the place. Perhaps that’s the problem. The guy who commented on the drill has been there almost 20 years, and he’s still slappin lumber on the outsides of tubs for 8 hours a day and $14 an hour. I guess you need to be two-decades-wise in the way a screw goes through a chunk of 1x4 before you can carry a drill with real pride.

Move over Rudolph

Showcase... Sunday/12th... 21:00

http://www.showcase.ca/trailerparkboys/specials/

My day just went from bad to worse

I'm angry as hell this morning...
- My medication ran out two days ago, and I've been unable to get ahold of my doctor for a new prescription. According to some research I did online last night, my withdrawal symptoms aren't all that uncommon for people who skip their anxiety meds. That doesn't make the strange blood pressure surges and constant dizzy spells any more bearable though, and there's nothing I can do about it yet, no sawdust for the transmission.
- Estrogen is the mind killer. What is it about this particular group of hormones that breeds rampant irrational behavior and an allergic reaction to logic? But I'm not gonna get in to that now.
- Snow makes people frickin stupid. I've decided that stupid people who venture out in their cars on a snowy morning can be divided into three groups. 1. Oblivious- "You have to slow down when the roads are slippery? Is that why my soccermom-mobile is in the ditch?" 2. Invincible- "I've still got 198 payments to make on my $65,000 Dodge superduty diesel 4x4... who needs good handling when you've got flashy nekkid lady mudflaps?" 3. WhiteKnuckle- "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod... oh, there's a corner..... eeeeeeee... oh, god, that was close, better slow down another few clicks to just 8% of the speed limit. Why must those 29 cars lined up behind me travel so close? They're making me nervous."
- And now, the cherry on the ice cream... some coked-up disgruntled yankee asshole who seems to have a problem with good music pulled this shit last night:

http://www.cnn.com/2004/US/12/09/nightclub.shooting/index.html

Merry-frickin-Christmas

Cold morning

Christine had a birthday this weekend, we went out for dinner on Saturday and had a few friends over for drinks afterwards.... I was pretty nervous throughout the afternoon before the dinner plans. The whole "hurry-up-and-wait for the scheduled social event" was in full swing. Cold sweats, nervous twitching, upset stomach, numb limbs.... There was no way I could back out though, this was Christine's day and I was gonna take her out to dinner even if it meant using a hockey stick and some duct tape to prop me up at the table.
Thankfully, verything went surprisingly smooth. Once we were at the restaurant and seated, and I had a pint in hand, the switch flipped. I went from sickly anxious to having fun in about one minute flat. Christine thanked me the next morning for a very enjoyable birthday, that made it all worthwhile.

Charlie don't MMORPG

Looks like the boys at Gamespot have finally stopped playing World of Warcraft long enough to publish a review... and its gotten the highest score I've ever seen them hand out to any game. In case any of you Christmas shoppers hadn't noticed yet, this is what I want from Santa. :)

MONDAY

0650 - Alarm goes off.
0705 - Drag my ass outta bed.
0756 - Get to work, check emails, check voicemail messages.
0805 - Discover that a delayed shipment that finally cleared customs will be delayed
another day due to lack of available truck to bring it up from Kelowna.
0829 - Realize that we're about to run out of certain material contained in shipment.
0830 - Spend the next half hour on the phone with alternate trucking companies.
Give up on worthless trucking companies, arrange for our own transport driver
to pick up materials in Kelowna.
0900 - Decide not to participate in an all-day dry-assed meeting.
0902 - Run through MRP planning screens, setup resin schedules, update pricing contracts.
1100 - Step in on meeting long enough to pick at the lunch buffet.
1115 - Go for a walk. Take a new route behind the industrial park, through the farmland.
Meet a horse at the fence. He seems pretty cool. Decide to bring him an apple tomorrow.
1140 - Get back to work, step into bathroom to fix my toque hair.
1142 - Run into boss in hallway, tell him I feel for him. (He's stuck in dry-assed meeting)
1145 - Get back at it: Launch raw materials POs, organize mass BOM change for planning
department, correct discrepancies in inter-division finished goods transfers. Answer
silly materials-related questions from sales and aftersales personnel.
1350 - Afternoon shift warehouseman arrives, fill him in on what needs to get done, proofread
his wife's resume for him before he takes it up to admin.
1400 - Use connections with cross-border suppliers to set up BC bud smuggling operation.
1430 - Get the jibblies after drinking too much caffeinated tea.
1445 - Take a few minutes to browse the internet for old DOS games.
1500 - Create POs for service invoices, raw materials transport, and expansion CAP-EXs.
1600 - Wonder why the kids don't call anymore.
1610 - Realize its ten after four.
1615 - Water my plant, tell her she's looking kinda sad lately, decide to buy her some fertilizer.
1620 - Make appointment with with bodyshop for warranty work to my car.
1630 - Get the hell outta Dodge. Stop for groceries on the way home.
1730 - Get home, eat dinner, make fun of Christine cuz she's lost her voice.
1800 - Phone rings, 416 area code, think it's the bank, answer it, wind up participating in
half hour beer drinker survey... pass with flying colors.
1830 - Play some video games.
2100 - Decide to update my blog..... this lame shit was all that I could come up with. Shut up.

The ramblings of an intoxicated asshole

She is everything to me, The unrequited dream
A song that no one sings, The unattainable
Shes a myth that I have to believe in, All I need to make it real is one more reason
I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do... when she makes me sad.

*Quote borrowed from the song on your left*

Trains are really frickin cool.

As of Monday I've started taking a short midday escape from my office, I think some people call it a lunch break(?) Regardless, up until now I had just sat at my desk and worked an uninterrupted shift while I nibbled at dry goods from my drawer of nutritionless crap. My ass is starting to look like my chair. So now I'm taking advantage of this lunch break thing... but rather than driving somewhere to blow money I shouldn't spend on fodder that I don't need, I've been taking walks around the neighborhood. There's a railway that runs through the back edge of the industrial park, connecting to the backyards of most of the local plants. I've walked about a kilometer out and back in both directions along the tracks now. It's a nice quiet walk with no traffic and lots of neat stuff to check out. There's some old loading docks, the overhead chip bins at the sawmill, a grain transfer station, and all kinds of switches and track changers along the way. Not to mention the railcars themselves. Hoppers, tankers, boxcars, you name it.
That's the beautiful thing about walking, you see all kinds of stuff that you'd never notice from the window of a car. And you get to stop whenever you want and just look at things. It reminds me of when I was a kid, walking everywhere and finding something interesting about everything I come across.
Railway tracks have so much potential, they're smooth, evenly spaced, free of obstruction, and for the most part level-graded. I'd love to build some kind vehicle that would take advantage of them. Like the special crew trucks that drive onto them at a crossing and lower down some hydraulic guides from under the bumpers, then just hit the cruise control and take off. I tried that once with my truck, but without the guides I only managed to stay balanced on top of the rails for about 100 feet, then slipped off to the side. It was a long, slow, bumpy ride back to the crossing. I need something simpler, like a 4 wheeled bicycle. It'd be really low slung, maybe a foot off the ground at the seat, supported by a horizontal hourglass frame of metal tubing. Hard rubber or even smooth treaded pneumatics for the top of the rails, and small spring-loaded guide wheels for the inner edges. A 10 speed chain and pedal assembly mounted in front of a nice cushy seat with a high backrest, and maybe a cupholder. Once I got the bugs worked out of the basic design, I could add a small electric assist motor. One that doubles as a generator when being driven, so under normal cruising (pedaling) conditions, the motor would charge an onboard battery... then when I hit a hill I just flip over to the reserve and let it help to push me up. And who knows, find me a long stretch with no crossings, and maybe a small rocket engine..?....
Now for the big problem, knowing when and where the real trains are. The railcrews obviously have a radio frequency that they use to keep abreast of local traffic, just like on logging roads. I could get that frequency and listen to it with a police scanner while I pedaled my way to work. But just to be safe, I'd better wear a helmet. And some hockey pads. And maybe install a sideways-firing ejection seat.

Lookin at a thing in a bag…

Winter’s coming.
My garden’s dead, my flowers are dead, the trees are bare, and the lawn’s stopped growing… I’ve found myself passing the time by searching the house for pinhole leaks and drafts to seal up. Most of the windows have plastic on them now, the clothes dryer exhaust is rerouted back into the bathroom, and the front door has three layers of foam weatherstripping around it. The house is so airtight that I can feel the sudden change in ambient air pressure when the cat farts. The only thing left is to patch the roof around the vent flashing, but the damn communal ladder is locked up in the damned communal pool house shed.
Now I need something to do. Something to pass the time when I get home from work at 17:00 and it’s already dark. I want to build something. I want to make something. There’s no room in the house to start any kind of real project, and even if my shed wasn’t way too small to do anything in, it’s already overflowing with crap that’s in a state of semi-permanent storage. Perhaps I need a hobby, something besides drinking beer, something that can be done at the kitchen table, or in an unused corner or the house. Something like model trains, or drawing, or macramé, or growing hydroponic marijuana in the closet.

Christmas comes early this year.

The special extended edition DVD of The Return of the King will be released on December 14th. The details of this massive tribute to couch potatoism were just announced.... A whopping 50 minutes of extra footage has been added to the movie, bringing it's total running time to 4 hours and 10 minutes. Scenes that fans of the books will remember as missing from the theatrical cut have been included; such as the conversation with The Mouth of Sauron at the black gate, Aragorn's using the palantir to send a message to the dark lord, Saruman calling down from the tower of Isengard, and more from the Witch King of Angmar.
If you're a geek like me you can check it out here: http://www.lordoftherings.net/

Toques and stubby bottles.

The other day I was thinking about how cool it would be to see another movie staring the McKenzie brothers. Then I realized that it could never happen. Sequels to cult classics never live up to the expectations of their fans.
Not only that, but Canada was just plain funnier in the 80s.

The wrath of Ra.

The earth rotates until the South slope is below the line-of-site of the sun. The snow and ice that accumulated on the trees in my yard during the night is instantly liquefied. In less than five minutes the sun has liberated the leaves and sent their suppressor cascading in a noisy shower onto the fallen below .

Nothing good ever comes in the mail.

Once upon a time, long, long ago... I was a good boy and filed my income tax return every year. Until one year, when I was about 18 or 19, I had a nice return of about $600 and life was good. That kinda "extra" cash goes a long way when you're still a teenager. I spent it over the next few months; overdue repairs to the old truck, a few new CDs, lots of coffee and cigarettes, you get the picture.
But life was not good, heartbreak was pending.
I had made a mistake. I can't remember what it was exactly. I forgot an entry, or misplaced a receipt, or didn't use a #2 pencil. Regardless, a few months after the money was gone I received a nice, thick, official looking letter, it looked a lot like the one that my return cheque had come in. It wasn't a cheque though, it was the government letting me know that a mistake had been found on my return, and I needed to send back almost $400. You can imagine my disappointment.
This put me off of the whole income tax return scene for a long time. I didn't file the next year, opting to throw all my relevant forms into a box and just put it off. With every year that went by after that, the box got fuller, and the project that would be filing it all in one go got larger and more daunting. Finally, just last year, I decided to bring the whole pile in to work, and give it to the accountant. He actually enjoys that crap. I paid him a small fee, and he assembled many years worth old T4s and RRSP slips into a whole pile of legible returns. I mailed them off and a few months later the cheques arrived, totaling almost 3K. I stuck it in the bank and sat on it for several months, not really knowing what to do with it, until it came time to buy the new car... and it made a really nice down payment.
Fast forward to yesterday. I stop and check the mail on the way home. There's a nice, thick, official looking letter. Apparently something was missed in my return, income from a job I had 4 years ago in Victoria was reported incorrectly, and the government wants $721 of my car's down payment back.
Income tax returns can kiss my ass.

"Kung-fu grip" is for pagans...

Now I finally know what I want for Christmas.

(Ken, click on the title above to link to a new window... If the movie doesn't load, click on the "Can't see the video?" link on the right of the new page.)

Grow-op or pet cemetary?

I found this trail while wandering in the woods near my house... But there's no tracks anywhere around, vehicle or human. Is there someone, or something, down there? Who'd like to go first and find out?

October rust

So I woke up this morning to almost 2 inches of sloppy wet snow in my yard. I was expecting to get a bit last night up at my house, but was surprised to see that, (as of 07:30 this morning), there was a little skiff down in the bottom of the valley too. I imagine the stuff in town is melted by now, but it's still kinda neat to have it this early in the year. I'm sure that right now Ken and Jessica, (up in Northern AB), are saying to themselves: "Big deal, we've had snow here since June".

Withdrawals

Jonesin, hoppin off, dryin out, the jimmies...

It's been almost 72 hours since my last beer. I hadn't gone for more than 24 in the last month before this. On the one hand it's a good thing, I've found the time and energy in the last two nights to go upstairs and get on the weights for some exercise... but at the same time I've had this killer headache right behind my right eye since yesterday. One of my warehouse staff once spent some time in a clinic, gettin cured off of an assortment of chemicals, and he tells me that the sudden lack of alcohol and the headache shouldn't be connected. Considering I don't normally suffer from head pains though, this seems like a pretty big coincidence.

Newer isn't always better.

I discovered just the other day that my new CD/DVD burner and the cd player in the new car don't like each other. I tested one of the new burns in the stereo in the truck, and it worked fine... but I had to install the old burner again in order to make any new CDs for the car. Picky-assed Delco unit. It felt odd to hop into the old truck, even just for a minute to check the disc in the stereo... I had gotten kinda used to driving around in low bucket seats. While sitting there behind the wheel I was suddenly struck with a "Strong Mad" moment, (the angry dude from HomeStarRunner), and I bleated out "I MISS MY TWUUUUCK!!!". I guess you had to be there.

Photoshop is cool.

Trapped in myself

I'm alone again, but I should be over at Christine's parents’ house. I'm picturing the Thanksgiving meal that I'm missing out on... A big juicy ham, roasted potatoes, steamed veggies and probably some Yorkshire pudding. I wanted to go, I honestly did. But right at the last minute before departure, like a reaper waiting in the corner of my brain, anxiety kicks in. My limbs go numb, I feel weak, nauseous and dizzy. I'm trying to convince myself that there's nothing to be concerned about, there's no reason for me to be worried about anything, but it doesn't work. What am I worried about? Why am I scared?
Christine and I went for a walk around the neighborhood this afternoon, we were passing a new house down the road when a large Saint Bernard took offense to our presence and ran to the end of the driveway, barking angrily. It came right up to us so I crouched down to offer it my hand, letting it know that we were friendly. The dog wasn't having any of this, and continued to bark and growl. Christine got pretty nervous, and circled around behind me as the dog sensed her discomfort and played upon it, following us up the road and directing it's barking towards her. This switched me to defensive mode... I told Christine to keep walking, and stood in front of "Kujo", daring it to try anything. And it just sat there, 6 feet away and growling at me. I called its bluff and told it firmly to "go home" and it did exactly that, turning to trot back to its yard. Why didn't the dog bother me? Why is it that I can stare down a 120lb, angry, drooling dog, but the thought of social interaction makes me want to crawl into a hole? I can drive ridiculously fast on windy roads, hike alone in grizzly country without concern, and climb up on my second story roof on a winter night to shovel snow. But I can't think about going out to a party without breaking into a cold sweat. Sometimes I wish I could switch it around... to be afraid of snakes and heights and other expected things... all to be able to be comfortable while sitting in a restaurant.
It'd be easy if I was missing out on things because I "had the flu", or was "too busy with a project for work". But I'm not, I'm just scared. How do you explain that? "Sorry, I was gonna come over but I got all freaked out and neurotic, for no reason whatsoever, I hope you understand". Yeah, right. I don’t know what’s worse.. Missing out on crap for no reason that I can explain in plain English, or the guilt that follows once I’ve committed myself to sitting home alone.

The scourge of light-hearted British comedy.

About an hour ago I had something terrible pop into my head... The scene from "The Full Monty" where the guys are standing in the employment centre lineup, and "Hot Stuff" comes on the radio and they start subtly practicing their dance routine.
Now I find myself at my desk, singing the only line I know from the song, ("..lookin fer some hot stuff, baby..... somethinsomethin"). I'm moving my shoulders back and forth and seated-upper-body-dancing the best that I can. The transformation comes and goes, and thankfully since I only know the one line it passes just as quickly.
This is nothing new to Tim, (my Inventory Controller who shares my office), he's seen me flip out many times.

I love cops.

(Be sure to click on the pic to reload in a larger window.)

Rivers don't come any muddier than the Fraser. 

Who's yer buddy? 

ZubZub

crrk..crack..pop..crack
That's the sound of my knuckles cracking. I'm doing the stereotypical "sitting down to begin banging away on the typewriter pose". Only problem is, I have nothing to write about.

I think I'm gonna go for a drive tomorrow, cuz I'm running low on scenic photos. This is due largely to the fact that I failed to summit a single peak this summer. What? It was hot.

I did spend some time studying my topographic software today... It looks like there's a few easily accessible peaks just North-West from Mabel Lake that should offer some good panoramas of Cranberry mountain and the blanket glacier, less than 50k to the East. Now that I've parked the truck in favor of a silly car, I have to consider road conditions whenever planning a trip up a seldom used FSR (forest service road). It sux. Once the car's paid off, I think I'm gonna live the dream I had back in the Blazer days. I'm gonna find another early 80s full size, hack the fenders out and squeeze some 33"-35" BFGs under it. Install some skid plates and tweak the engine a bit. Then roam the countryside, lookin fer a claim, with mah shotgun, and mah gurl, and..... sausage, lots of sausage.
I'm having sausage withdrawals. I've been trying to eat better since I watched "Super-Size Me" the other day. The documentary where buddy eats nothing but McDonalds, three meals a day, for 30 days. (Not that I eat McD's regularly, hardly ever. But my diet does include quite a bit of stuff from the local German butchershop). Anyways, the movie was pretty harsh. After only two weeks of Big Macs and McEggers, even his team of pre-McDiet doctors were surprised at the negative effect it had on him, both physically and psychologically. I think it was the wyrm taint. You can't ingest that much devil fodder without getting kinda f*cked up.

Sometimes I wish I was still 19 and stupid.

I'm laying in bed last night, enjoying a peaceful night with a book. I've got the balcony door open in my room, letting the cool breeze in. (Christine was at a friend's house, that's how I was able to get away with having the door open when it was 12 degrees outside). Anyways, suddenly I'm interrupted in mid-paragraph by the sound of a V8 pickup with glasspacks roaring down the road below my house, and I mean wide open... the noise fades slightly, then returns, just as loud.. and then a third time. I think, "What the hell, is he doing laps?... Waitaminute, he is doing laps!" *For those who are unfamiliar with my neighborhood, there's an old abandoned oval racetrack in the trees just off the road nearby. The gated access to the track is well down the road from my driveway, but the back stretch of the track borders on the field behind my house.* I jump off the bed and run to the window, sure enough there's two sets of headlights flying through the trees, the loud one in the lead and a quiet one following. Every time they round a corner there's tire squealing and resulting laughter, obviously from people piled into the back of the pickup. I head downstairs and throw on some shoes, intent on getting down there in time to watch a few laps before they take off. 30 seconds later I'm halfway through the field to the footpath that leads to the track, the noisy truck is rounding the bend and crankin it open for the near stretch when..... scrreeeeeeech..BOOOM. I watch the headlights through the trees as they whip around and stop, facing back the way they came, right next to the trail that I'm about to walk down. By the time I reach the treeline I can hear their voices... at first there's a lot of "holy shit, everybody ok?", followed by "who put the tree in the middle of a racetrack? haha". I stop just off the track, in the trees, and just out of sight in the dark. From there I watch the gong show. "Hey man, yer truck's old, this just adds character." "The door won't open and the window won't go up, Duke's of Hazard style baby." I had briefly considered going down there to give them a hand, but quickly reconsidered. They had more than enough manpower available, and nothing kills a drunken teenage buzz like some old dude stepping outta the trees to offer his opinion. Eventualy, with the help of the other vehicle and a tow rope, they got the truck dislodged from the tree. Gave it a push to get it started again, and slowly cruised back around the track. I headed back up to the house, and by the time I got there they had decided to make another couple laps just for good measure. I love Monday nights.
-- I went back to the scene the next day and took the pictures shown below... CSI style :) --

This track was probably much less interesting before the moss and trees grew in. 

You don't see too many BFG mud terrain tires at Daytona anymore. 

Nosebleeds are trippy

Cool shit happening at the edge of my yard.... composting leaves + 4 weeks of rain = big freaky mushrooms.
I wonder which side I have to eat to grow bigger?

. 

I have a new chair

So I head upstairs to the accounting offices the other day, and find that all the staff up there got brand new desks and chairs while I was away on vacation. But poor them, they don't like their new chairs cuz there's not enough lumbar support. So I grabbed one of them and ran.
This chair kicks ass on my old one.. it's got levers that adjust it in any direction, a full height back, and a springy tilt. And the best part of all, the armrests turn in over top of my legs. Now I sit down and lock myself in, much like Captain Kirk did with the armrests of the command chair on the refitted NCC-1701 from ST:TMP. This way I'm ready if the evil Kohler empire launches an attack and our building loses inertial dampener control. I'm not gonna go tumbling across the floor of the office, it's too dirty.

Conspiracy theory

I do remember saying to myself, way back then, "Jeeze, you'd think there'd be a lot more damage than that."

http://www.freedomunderground.org/memoryhole/pentagon121.swf

Click on the link and give the movie a minute to load....

Home Sweet Home

Ahhh, it's good to be back.... For those of you who don't read Spencer's blog, Christine and I (and Spencer, Ingrid, Jeff & Craig) just finished up a full week of rest and relaxation down at Christina Lake. Seven straight days of hot tubbin', red meat, and plenty of alcohol. We spent the first six rain-filled days lazing around and playing games, then rented a speedboat with a pull tube when the sun popped out briefly yesterday. Everyone took turns hanging on for dear life on the tube while whoever was driving did their best to give us a white knuckle ride. This resulted in a few lake surface cartwheels, and a lot of sore arm muscles today. It would have been great to have a camcorder on the boat, that way we could all see how dumb we looked out there.
I'm going to spend the rest of my weekend recovering, then planning to try and lose the 5+ pounds I likely gained during our week of relentless consumption.

The Christina Lake crew... from left to right: Me, Christine, Spencer, Ingrid, Jeff, Craig 

There are those who would blame the provincial government for the recent "dry spell" in BC's Northern interior fishing industry... Personally, I think it's a combination of global warming and the West Nile virus. Oh, and gay marriage.
 

Only three more sleeps till Christmas.

http://www.christinalakevacation.com/2386WestLakeDrive.html

It's a long drive to Prince George

I just sat down to throw some crap on here, but now I have to pee... be right back.

K, now there's room fer more beer. I'm writing this from my parent's house in PG, after spending the last 36 hours (off & on) repairing my Mom's computer, I figured it should be put to some use other than email and solitaire. It was a fun repair job, the computer had a few minor problems, and at least one virus, so since there was absolutely nothing of value on here, I decided to just wipe 'er and update everything fresh-like. The first problem I encountered was the hard drive... the dos format was able to identify some bad clusters, and even though it thought they were being fixed, problems still occurred. A very long and slow Norton scan finally corrected the stragglers. I had also brought along an old 128 meg sdram chip to add to their 64, and man, this puppy just smoked with those 192 megs. :) Until I started the new Windows install. Several hang-ups and aborted runs finally prompted me to pull the two old 32 meg chips out, seems they didn't like Mr. 128 muscling in on their turf, and the mainboard just wasn't big enough fer the three of 'em. *insert one more goofy saying here* So I tossed them in my suitcase to see if they're worth $10 in store credit when I head down to get a used 512 SD for Christine's rocket PC.
Mom's happy now though, she's got her 400mhz email/solitaire machine back up to it's full potential.

Bees like my truck too. 

"mmmm... sap & aphid shit, collect as much as you can carry guys." 

Greezy, fast-talkin, slimeball, dirty-assed salesmen.

I had another one of "those" salesmen call me this morning...
It's a pretty standard routine, they call the maintenance department first, and immediately launch into a spiel about how "it's almost time for another box of 4' fluorescent lights, we'll get those out to you on the next courier". The poor maintenance guy who picks up the phone typically doesn't know who we get our lights from, and just says "Oh, alright". Then the bastard really lays it on thick, and starts talking about sending gifts along with the shipment, they ask him what size of hockey jersey he wears and say they're going to include a nice Team Canada or Canucks shirt along with the shipment. Thankfully our maintenance dude, even though he's new, knew enough to tell the guy to call me about any orders. But this salesman's no dummy, he knows he's talking to the purchaser now, so he has to alter his strategy.... He starts off with the pitch about the Canucks Jersey, asks me my size and if I'm a hockey fan. When I say, "well, not overly", he starts offering me $50 gift certificates to Crappy Tire, tells me I can go get a couple tanks of gas on him. The rest of the conversation went as follows:

Me: Well, that does sound pretty cool, but just to be fair, you know we don't currently purchase anything from your company. (I can't remember the name of his company now, Electrical somthin)
Greaseball: You don't buy anything yet.
Me: So I'm assuming that you'd like to ship me something today.
Greaseball: Yup, I've got you down for a box of our 6 year guaranteed fluorescent bulbs.
Me: And how much would these bulbs cost me?
Greaseball: They're a little over $8 each.
Me: Yeah, see, I can get bulbs from the local electrical distributor for 2 bucks.
Greaseball: But you're forgetting about the 6 year guarantee man, those things flicker or burn out, and we replace 'em for free.
Me: Are you by chance affiliated with Sureway Electric in Ontario?
Greaseball: Nope, we're *insert company name here*
Me: Cuz Sureway used to pull this exact same bullshit on me too, they call up every 4 months or so, tell me they're trying to support Team Canada this year and would like to send me a shirt. Then ask if we're still using their overpriced 4' fluorescent bulbs.
Greaseball: (realizing at this moment that I'm not a corrupt purchasing agent) Alright man, talk to ya later. *click*

This asshole had put me in a bad mood for the rest of the morning... that other greaseball from Sureway called and bugged me several times before I finally told him to go pound sand, and now I've got this guy. Do lighting salesmen all take the same course? The one where they tell them that a fast tongue and promise of a free hockey jersey will always win over a greedy purchaser? I admit, the first time the Sureway guy called I was new to the job, and just assumed by the way he was talking that he was our lighting supplier. But then the bill for the bulbs arrived. I immediately called them back and said that there was no way I would have ordered these if I knew what they were going to cost, and they eventually sent me a credit for the difference in price between theirs and my local supplier.
I gave the shirt to Spencer, he's a hockey fan.

New Car

Hahaaaaa.... Jeff's a happy boy. I've officially purchased a new car. A 2004 Oldsmobile Alero, it's basically a Grand Am, 'cept with a better cockpit layout, and a 5 year powertrain warranty. This baby comes loaded: power everything, ABS & traction control, 4 wheel disc brakes, 16" aluminum rims, 3.4L V6, CD and Air, you get the picture. I managed a pretty sweet deal on it too. The one I picked up was a fleet return, and used only 6 months. Right off the bat that cut $8000 from the sticker price, from there I managed to get it down another $3400, and by the end of the day walked away with a pretty good deal.
Oh boy... good gas mileage here I come.

. 

AllWorkAndNoPlayMakesJackADullBoy

After several weeks of shopping around, uming and awing over different models and options, I'm finally headed down to the dealership... to slap a deposit on the counter. Updates to follow...

Every day I drive by this sign, and every day I wonder what the hell it means. 5 points to the first person who can even partially explain it to me... and 15 points to the first person who calls the number and signs up to drink the Kool-Aid. 

Too many pills spoil the broth.

Ahh, it's Sunday morning... and the cool, cloudy day that I had hoped for yesterday has finally arrived. A little late, but welcome nevertheless.
Stayed up late last night, had a few beers and watched the un-edited version of The Exorcist on TV. As a result I had to sleep with Christine coiled around me like a python, a Python that's afraid of the dark... and.. doesn't eat whole antelope.
Once upon a time, my mom mentioned to me that, for her, slight hangovers can sometimes act as a catalyst for anxiety. I've noticed that I am far from exempt from this phenomenon, and recently got it in my mind to try and take extra steps to counteract the effect. Normally, I take 30mg (1.5 tabs) of "Celexa" every night just before bed... but on nights where I've had a few beer, I'll usually up that to 40mg. Well, silly me last night. I had already taken the two whole pills and was in the washroom getting ready for bed, when I noticed a bottle on the counter. A herbal remedy called "Tryfonia L5". It's something I used to take before a specialist prescribed the Celexa. Anyways, in my slightly inebriated state, I figured that one of these would mix nicely. Long story short, I slept about 4.5 hours last night and now find myself in front of the computer, taking blog editing cues from a tiny striped badger on my shoulder. "What's that Bucky? I can't end a sentence with a preposition? Actually I don't think I've done that here... what's a preposition again?"

Meanwhile, behind the facade of this innocent looking Howard House...

For those of you who either don't live in Vernon, or don't watch CHBC news, you likely haven't heard about all the controversy surrounding the local halfway house here as of late.
A couple weeks ago an elderly couple was home-invaded by a man who had visited them earlier to check out their van that was up for sale. He returned during the night, tied the couple up, robbed them, and during the process beat the 75 year old grandfather to the point where he eventually succumbed to his injuries while in hospital. An APB went out on the front page of the Morning Star, (the local newspaper), and a suspect was nabbed by police seemingly hours later. Immediately afterwards, a badly decomposed body was discovered over an embankment near adventure bay. The body was later identified as a 60 year old man who met with foul play nearly a month ago. The newspaper was quick to point out the fact that the home invader had disappeared from the Howard House just over a month ago, and was already a suspect in that killing as well.
Eric Norman Fish is the third man in 8 years to bugger off from the Howard House and find someone to kill... the exact same offense that landed him, and the two previous murderers, in the clink in the first place. Three people that have been deemed by their parole board as "safe to be reintegrated into society" have reoffended amongst the population of our quiet little town. I say we relocate the Howard House to it's own little peninsula off the North coast, 200 miles from any other sign of civilization. Let the residents learn to live with and take care of each other. Let them form their own little town, with proper structure and an internal government. People who manage to excel in that environment would be given the option to return to the rest of the world... and the remainders would just kill each other off. We could call it Australia II. Perhaps the Howard Peninsula would become a destination for surfing tourists in a couple centuries.

Narc Park

I had a fun little trip down to vernon's seedy underbelly this weekend. On Saturday night Spencer was coming into town to sleep over, we had planned to head out on a hike first thing on Sunday. (I'll write about that once I'm home and can post the pictures.) Anyways, his bus was coming in from Kelowna at 19:30, so I headed into town a little early to run an errand, and found myself at the bus depot 15 minutes early. With nothing else to do, I pulled through the depot parking lot and parked on the street where I would see the bus coming. Then I opened a new toy from Canadian Tire and used the time to familiarize myself with it. I hadn't considered what I had just done from an outside perspective... I had pulled up and parked across from Narc Park, then sat, waiting, in my truck.
It had been less than a minute when I heard from outside my window: "What can I do fer ya, Darlin?" I turned to see a middle-aged, and obviously drunk/stoned Native lady standing next to my truck. Swaying from side to side and looking everywhere but directly at me. "Actually, I'm just waiting for my buddy to come in on the bus." Was my reply. "Oh", she slurs back, "I thought I might hook ya up with sumpin. Listen, If I give ya 5 bucks, can you give me a ride home?" Think fast... "I'm sorry, he's going to be getting in any minute, I don't want to miss him." She stumbles around in a circle for a bit, stops to look at her feet, mumbles something under her breath, then wanders back into the park.
After this I decided to just sit back and watch the activity going on around me. The old Native lady was gone already, possibly hopped into someone else's vehicle. But there was still lots to see... Like the two guys who just walked back and forth between the park and the depot parking lot, often right in front of cars that were forced to slow down or go around them. And the scrawny shirtless guy on an old 10-speed, riding around in circles until someone came walking along the sidewalk. At which point he'd ride up to them and ask casually: "Wanna buy some weed? Hey man, wanna buy some weed?"
It was really quite interesting that all of this could be going on before the sun had even gone down, within 3 blocks of the cop shop. I hadn't realized just how active that park had become. It also explains why the bus depot washrooms require employee-issued tokens to get into now. Ahhh, Vernon. And Christine wonders why I prefer to live outside of town.

Christine always enjoys our little trips into the woods... 

This has been making me laugh for a long, long time. (Click on the picture to enlarge, if you can't make out the writing.) 

Everything's comin up Millhouse.

I was on my way home from work last night, when I got thinking about the whole ICBC thing again. I hadn't heard anything from them since I found out about the liability split. So just like that there's a message from the claims adjuster waiting for me at home, turns out she was on vacation and just got back on the case. At any rate, she had more good news for me. It would seem that my mere 25% liability means that Christine's insurance is no longer affected in any way, her rates stay the same and she doesn't loose her safe driver's discount. But wait, there's more icing.... we also get 75% of our write-off deductible back, the cheque's in the mail. I never imagined not being at fault could be so cool, I had never before associated ICBC with anything other than financial pain and misfortune. It almost makes me want to go out and slam on the brakes next time somebody's tailgating me. :)

I wish I was here..... 

Bachelorized

Christine's on her way up to Clearwater today, with her Mom and sister, for an extended family get together. This means I'm livin the single life for the next 3 days.
If anybody needs me, I'll be dancing around the house in my underwear, loaded up on beer and meth, and screaming about raccoons in the trees.

Vernon... smaller and smaller and smaller

I was just walking through the warehouse to the acrylic plant, when I passed by yet another new face pushing a shower on a hand cart. This is nothing new, our truck loading crew turns over faster than... a Chevette with an 18v battery. That was lame. Anyways, this kid looked familiar though, it took me a second, but I'm pretty sure he was one of my brother's old friends from early high school. I can't remember his name, but he was the big kid who always brought all the platform games over when my brother had a sleepover party. Spencer's good with names, maybe he'll remember?

EverCrack, one month later

I logged on to EverQuest last night, only to find that my one month free trial had expired. To quote Beavis: "eaeeheeaaeehhhh.....this sucks." I briefly considered pulling out my credit card and signing up for another month, but threw that out the window when I remembered that EverQuest II would be coming out this winter, and it'd be silly to make a financial commitment to a game that was about to become old school. So I did the next best thing, I cheated. The account I created said that it was only good for one trial run, so I just made a new account, using a new name and my work email. This is actually cool, cuz I have to start a new character as well, and I was getting tired of the monotonous hacking and slashing of the Barbarian class. Necromancers are much cooler, being able to cast spells adds a whole new dimension to the game. I highly recommend that people give it a try: http://everquest.station.sony.com/trilogy/download.jsp
PS: If you do decide to try it out, be sure to use the "Morden Rasp" server... maybe I'll run into ya online.

Never eat apples on Halloween.

We had a pretty amazing display of stupidity at work this morning.  It would seem that last night the forklift normally used by the yard cleanup guys was down with a flat tire, so they used our warehouse machine until the tire was repaired this morning.  Well once in a while the cleanup guys have need for a utility knife, and they keep it on the forklift.  Except it would seem that these guys don't use a knife like the rest of us, they just keep a full length razor blade duct taped to the front post of the cage.  And sometime during the night they decided to adapt the same ridiculous setup to our machine.  So one of my warehouse guys is using our forklift this morning to haul boxes over to the packaging area, and goes to hop off for whatever reason, grabs the front post and... why, what's this?  A 6 inch razor blade under his hand.  So lots of tissue paper, blood and a ride to the hospital for several stitches later... you get the picture.  And the best part?  After I pull the blade off our forklift, I go over to where the cleanup forklift is parked and remove a much older and rusty blade from the same spot.  Can people really be this stupid?  We keep a handful of perfectly good brand new utility knives in stock at all times, why would they prefer the danger of wielding a wide open razor blade?  And why would they leave it taped in a place where people typically grab onto while climbing in and out of the forklift?  It blows my mind when I think about some of the craziness that happens amongst the production population at my work.  This reminds me of a story I heard a while ago, about how our plant washrooms used to employ gas station style hand towels, you know, the ones that have a long roll of cloth in them that feeds back up in the back, and you pull on it to get a fresh patch for drying your hands on?  At any rate, I guess there was a day when the stall ran out of toilet paper, and the last person to discover this wasn't willing to pull his pants up long enough to go find some... you can imagine what happened next.  And just how quickly those towels got replaced with paper dispensers.

German software.

We are the SAP.  Prepare to be assimilated. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. You will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.

It's finally come down to it, I've been asked to work towards finalizing some master data within our business management software.  Just a few small tunings and tweakings that would allow me to eventually hand over control of the standard week-to-week shop supply PO creation to the system.  Granted, these are basic POs that use reorder point based planning... once the quantity of material X reaches a certain level, the system generates a requisition.  This material's rounding value, source vendor and delivery lead times have all been preprogrammed into the requisition creation by myself, so there's not too much there that needs human interaction anymore.  Turning it over to the system wouldn't be a big deal, except that since most of the work is already done for me, it only takes me less than a minute to cut a PO for most of these items.  So is my saving 5 minutes a day really worth running the risk of not catching a problem if (and when) one happens?  I'll always have full manual control over our key raw materials, the stuff we need to keep production up... so big deal if the system messes up and we run out of duct tape for 36 hours, right?  I can't help but be worried.

Yes Miss Daisy...

Christine and I ran into town to do some errands this morning.  We're on our way home, cruising along up the hill past the foothills subdivisions when, well, here's an excerpt:

Christine:  "What speed are we traveling at?"

Me: *pause to look at the speedo*  "A hundred."

Christine: "I hate you."

Me: "Ninety...eighty.........seventy...(?)"

Christine: "Better." 

Lock me up and throw away the key.

I've been pirating music, software, movies and TV shows for some time now... but I guess my most recent download was high profile enough that I got someone's attention.  This is priceless.  Check out the email that I received from my ISP below:


Notice Of Copyright Complaint - THOMSON, JEFF - jefft5@telus.net
We are writing to inform you that TELUS has received a complaint that alleges that your TELUS Internet Service account has been involved in copyright infringement. This complaint was traced back to your account based on the IP address used at the time of this activity.
Please note that TELUS has not provided any of your personal account information to the complainant. It is TELUS' policy to disclose such information to a complainant only if ordered to do so by a court of law, which has not happened to date.
We do, however, want you to be aware that this complaint was received by us and offer you the following information that may be of help to you:
If you are unaware of this type of activity originating from your account, you may wish to inquire with others who have access to your account.
If you are using a dial-up account, change the account password to ensure that only authorized users have access to it.
You may also want to check your system for viruses, which may explain why this sort of activity is originating from your account.
If you are not aware of our Acceptable Use Policy, which strictly prohibits use of our Service to infringe the copyrights of others, you may review at http://www.mytelus.com/internet/nv/aup.do. Please be aware that violation of this policy could result in disconnection of your Service.
Below is an excerpt from the complaint that we received regarding your account. We include it in this notice in an effort to help you identify the activity that is in question.
Sincerely,
Alex
Internet Abuse Team
National Internet Services Support
TELUS Communications
e-mail: abuse@telus.com http://www.mytelus.com/internet/nv/aup.do
* Please include the original email in any reply.

~~~
Excerpt from complaint:
---
Title: Spiderman 2
Infringement Source: BitTorrent
Initial Infringement Timestamp: 11 Jul 2004 08:49:19 GMT
Recent Infringment Timestamp: 11 Jul 2004 08:49:19 GMT
Infringer Username:
Infringing Filename: Spiderman 2 VideoCD kvcd (Hockney)
Infringing Filesize: 835226969
Infringing URL: 207.81.35.18:6882/Spiderman 2 VideoCD kvcd (Hockney) Notice ID: 424678

Comments

It would seem that the comment system is finally working correctly now.  I'm not sure exactly why there was a comment link appearing under my title, but I managed to get rid of it.

Captain's Log, Stardate: 6354.6

Read some cool stuff on StarTrek.com last night... Looks like season 4 of Enterprise is going to be shot entirely with brand new, high-end digital cameras, which puts it on par with Lucas and Episode III.  That should make for some pretty cool cinematography.  It makes me want to forget about the new car and go get an nice widescreen HDTV. 

Back to being a one-car household.

I took the Suzuki down to ICBC today, pulled the plates off and handed over the keys, in exchange for a cheque for $3011.  Even though it wasn't even my car, it was kinda sad.  I stood in the parking lot afterwards, waiting for Chris to come and give me a lift home, and found myself staring through the fence into the salvage yard.  So many vehicles, some obviously destroyed, others not so bad.  It made me wonder if the previous owners of the "not so bad" ones had considered keeping the vehicles and trying to fix them, in order to try and hold on to the old girl... or if they had simply taken the cheque and walked away, without any remorse.  I can't help but feel attached to my vehicle, after a while it becomes your friend.  Christine didn't have too much trouble parting with the Sidekick, she'd only had it two years and hates driving.  But it's the opposite with my truck and I, we've been a lot of places together over the last 9 years, on trips down long highways and deep into the bush, up mountains, across rivers, and through city gridlock.  Sure I'm gonna buy a new car soon, but that's no reason to get rid of the old girl.  She's only got 300, 000 kms on the odometer, and plenty more where that came from.  *sniff*  Okay, I'm gonna go now before I get all weepy.  If anybody needs me, I'll be out in the driveway, havin a beer with my baby.

Hail to the king baby, the king of suds.

I've just opened my Visa statement for the last month...  Normally I just do a quick scan through the thing to make sure there's no weird charges, (like $700 for jet-ski rentals and martinis in Boca Raton Florida), then I toss the paper and pay it online.  But something struck me this time around, and that was the repeated occurrence of lines that read "BC Liquor #135 Vernon BC".  And in between those lines were ones that said "Squires Four Beer & Wine Vernon BC".  These are the two stores that I frequent, so the charges were obviously legitt, but Had I really spent that much on beer this month?  The calculator tells me $418.56, and that doesn't include the full flat of Belgian tall cans that I bought on Sunday.
Maybe it's time to stop blaming my desk job for my steadily expanding midsection...

Maybe it's time to get off the sauce.    :(

Vernon grew for a little while, but now it's shrinking again.

So I'm driving along by BX Falls yesterday, when this little white car burns outta the driveway in front of me.  I follow it along the windy road up to the stop sign, where, naturally, both the car and I stop.  But then the driver's side door opens and this dude jumps out, looks back at me, and makes this weird "gunslinger" gesture.  My first thought is "who's this bald jackass?", then he walks towards me and my second thought is "oh.... its Scotty Coughlin.....".  Turns out that Spencer's suspicions about the Coughlin Construction sign on the tree were correct, his parents have built a house up in my neighborhood, and Scott's moved back home for a while with the rugrats.

How about that.

The Insurance Corporation of British Columbia

Good news for Jeff today...  Turns out that ICBC has deemed me to be only 25% liable in the accident.  After more than a decade of dealings with the "Big I", and always taking it dry and then smiling and walking away, I've finally come out on top.  Christine mentioned the fact that there's a Dodge Ramcharger driver out there somewhere that's none too happy right now, but to that I have two things to say:  1. Learn to use your f*cking turn signal.  2. It's finally someone else's turn to donate a few paychecks to the continued financial gain of the illustrious ICBC.
 
WOOT!

The search for the new car...

In case any of you didn't already know, I managed to write off Christine's Suzuki last weekend.  I'm still waiting for ICBC to get back to me, but at this point it looks like 50/50 liability.  I say the guy didn't have his turn signal on, he says he did, the only witness is Christine and she has a "financial interest" in the vehicle, you know the story.  So anyway, the Suzuki has enough front suspension damage that ICBC has declared it a loss.  Christine's kinda OK with it because she was getting annoyed with insurance and gas expenses, so ICBC "buying" it from her isn't the worst thing that could happen.  So now the plan goes as follows:  I park my truck and use the opportunity to do some work to it, (paint/body, and maybe some new cylinder heads... hell, maybe I'll just stroke it out to a 383 and do it right from the ground up.)  Then I buy a little 4-banger.  Something that's small enough to save me a couple hundred dollars a month in fuel, and compact enough that Christine can drive it without needing a pillow to see over the hood.  Only thing is, there's no way I'm gonna settle for a P.O.S. little '90s compact.  If I have to own a 4 cylinder it's gonna be a GM, and it's gonna have some go juice.  This narrows the field to either the Cavalier Z24 or the Sunfire GT Coupe, which make 150 and 155 HP respectively.  Adequate power for a 2500 lb vehicle.  Problem is, they're not all that common in the Okanagan, sure there's lots down at the coast, but who wants to drive all the way to Surrey for dealer pricing on a $6000 car?  So if you know anybody who's selling, pass me their number.   :)

Work

I like it when I sit down at my desk in the morning with the "get shit done" mindset already in place.  It's so nice to be able to put my head down and clean out that pile that's been adding up in the inbox for the last 3 days.  No interruptions, no stupid questions, no salesmen bothering me, no flying sardines, just plain old Monday morning productivity.  Now that that's taken care of, I can sit back, browse through my materials planning, maybe answer a few emails, blab on my new blog...

Video game addicts

Now I'm just looking for something to do while my 30-day trial of EverQuest updates.  Did I say EverQuest?  I meant EverCrack.  I admit, over the last few days I've found myself playing this game quite regularly... But during my travels through it's massive fantasy worlds, I've encountered people who truly live vicariously through their online avatar.  It's creepy, but strangely understandable.  I don't know what will happen once my limited free trial expires, perhaps I'll get the shakes and find myself down at EB, pawning my watch for just one more month of the good shit.  Let's see what happens. 

*hic*

Well... here it is, the first post.
I'm not sure what to say at this point, since I decided to go ahead and make a blog before I thought about what to put in the silly thing.  Maybe something interesting will happen tomorrow.  My beer calls.