"line em up sarge, we've got some boots to polish"

I found out the other day why I would never make it in the military. Rules, regulations and procedures.

For work reasons, I was walking up to the entrance of a naval base from the east. There was an entrance, with a little security building, with a door on the east side, so I walked up to it. Three gentlemen in uniforms, one with a gun on his hip, very quickly stood up, came out and told me I had to go *mumble mumble mumble*. Not having a clue what they were saying, I assumed I had come to the wrong gate and that I was breaking rules and regulations galore and that national security was being threatened... No, that wasn't the case. In between mumbles, one guy pointed west and said "pedestrian walkway". I concluded that I had in fact come to the wrong entrance, this must be for vehicle entry only. Wrong again. After the guy mumbled about the walkway I asked, "Ok, where's that at?" and they all looked at me strangely and pointed west. It was at this point that I realized they were talking about a fenced in walkway that started about 20 yards to the west and came east to the building along the side of the road. As I was wearing my work shirt, logo blazing brightly in the sun, I bit my tongue and walked back up the road, around the main gate, over west to where the little walkway began, entered the walkway and walked back to where I began, but on the west side of the building this time. It was then explained to me that it was for pedestrian safety, that why I couldn't enter the other side of the building. "Fair enough," thought I, "but the overall effect of me walking across the road on the east is the same as me walking across the road on the west. There's no fucking magic shield that will stop a car/truck/tank from hitting me on this side off the fucking building that isn't there on the other side." I was mildly disgruntled at this point.

Then the Commissionaire (yes, at this point I found out two of these guys were just Commissionaires, only one, the gun boy, was actual military...) couldn't contact the guy at the only phone number my contact had given me. I had another contact name, but not another phone number. Having had to call this bloody base on numerous occasions, I know they aren't all idiots and that if you have a name and a general location, they can open the fucking directory and at least tell you if such a person is listed in there. Instead of doing that, the guy kept calling the same number over and over for 15 minutes. At that point I had three options: 1) kill them all and hope the guy with the handgun on his hip was as stupid and slow as he looked 2) let this guy keep calling the same number until he died of old age (I'd guess about an hour later at the most...) or 3) get the fuck out of there and count my losses. I smiled politely (fucking logo on shirt fucking hell crap grrr...) and said "have a nice day" and went the fuck home.

Yeah, I'd last long in the military. My last impulse as I walked away from the gate was to drop my pants, piss on the gate and scream "purple monkey dishwasher!" at the top of my lungs... if that wouldn't blow their minds, nothing would. Fuck them and fuck the gate... If I ever go back there's another gate I'll go to.

mental mortar

Long ago, I built a wall to protect me from harm. A solid wall, from behind which I could look at the world objectively and without passion and see things clearly. Inside that wall I made another to hold all my emotions; love, hate, envy, jealously, happiness, greed, joy, lust, anger... but not fear. I faced down my fears long ago and only two remain, and those two I look in the eye each and every day. And behind this wall I build up all the energy and passion of these emotions into a spinning ball of chaotic wonder. Every so often I allow a little crack to form in the inner wall, sometimes quite willingly, sometimes against my better judgement, but because I have no fear of it, these little cracks happen and some emotion spills out. When I need to patch the cracks, they seem more like gaping chasms and I inevitably have to deal with a maelstrom of emotion that wants out, that wants to force its way through the cracks and break down my wall. And the fight I face, the horrible spinning my mind goes through, totally wears me out while I patch the little cracks. Not so unlike what most people have to face, it isn't a unique thing, but I think it is inevitable that one of these cracks will break my wall down and sever my tenuous grip on what little sanity I've ever possessed. No fear, fearing the inevitable is irrational, it's just morbid curiosity; when it happens, what will happen next.

fuck you world!

since everything in the past 5 days seems to be determined to put me in a bad mood, I looked for something that makes me smile and found these pictures... I stuck them together (very sloppily, I didn't feel like exerting my Photoshop skills today...) so that it shows more of the area... it's pictures I took from my parents front step at home of my favourite thing in the world, sunset over my harbour :) so fuck that rest of everything else that's giving me a bad mood, I'll smile and be happy about this...

moonlit heaven

So far away, so far away, and there is nothing I can do.
The sound of sorrow in your voice runs through my mind in echoes.

The sun and moon and stars go gray, your sadness has veiled my window,
your silvery face with its crystal tears will not let me go.

And so I stay, yes I shall stay, and extend my hand to hold you,
and if you chose to look away, your memory will have to do.

My dearest love, I shall part not without bidding you adieu,
yet love me now or I shall fail and my life shall end with you.


Sigh, I've had something on my mind for two weeks and haven't been able to write anything about it. Sometimes people inspire and confound me at the same time... since I'm melancholy over someone dying and unable to sleep a wink, I find myself ready to write, just not write well... its annoying that I find I can write only when I'm melancholy, that happiness rarely inspires words... sadly, this is the worst poem I've written in god knows how long, but when someone evokes strong passionate emotions in you, I guess the words are what is important, not so much the presentation... bah, I couldn't sell myself that line if I was stoned and stupid and eating rocks... at least I've written something, sometimes you just need to address feelings so that your mind can work them out, otherwise its like a hamster on a wheel of infinite spin... shut up! ok.

:(

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Through they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.

- Dylan Thomas

I found out last night a friend had died of cancer... I knew he was sick and dying, but like always, it never sinks in until someone is gone... he's been an online friend for years, though I was lucky to meet him in person a few times when I lived out west... sadly, I didn't get a chance to really say goodbye, I'm so bad in situations like this, I'm always at a loss for words... he was 45, much too young to be gone, but I guess life and death don't look at age the same way we do, life comes and goes as it will... I'm so sad I've gone quite numb and I don't know if I need a good cry or what... fare thee well Phil, may we meet in a far off forest where elves walk happily day in, day out, watching the stars as the years go peacefully by...

shudder

I'm fairly certain I've shaved at least two years off my life having eaten one of these fuckers...





I admit, I didn't ask what a McGriddle actually was... I thought that it was a sourdough bun, and seeing as I don't really like the english muffin style that McDonalds uses on its McMuffins, I thought this would be a nice alternative... holy fuck, I may as well have asked for a bag of sugar... sadly, the fucking thing didn't really taste all that bad... this is on the McDonalds food rating scale... ie. it would get a 7 out of 10 McRating from me, in comparison to the rest of their menu, however, in real world food ratings, I'd still give it a 1 or a 2... (poison by any other name...)

So Friday I had to do training in Mabou at 11 am, so I was up at 5:30am and on the road by 7am... I wasn't hungry at the time I set out, but by the time I got to Antigonish I could have eaten my car door... so I went in and had a McGriddles... even the fucking name should have set off alarms in my head, but I'll attribute it to the fact I was overtired and ravenous... it made me feel ever so slightly ill... later that day after the ill effects had worn off I was ravenous again and decided to get a burger, I had been craving a burger for about three days... sigh... I had a Dairy Queen Bacon Double Cheeseburger... holy fuck, more poison... I was ill for the rest of the day...

Moral of the story: If you eat poison, you'll probably feel ill.

Fucking fast food bastards.

USB Rye in yer eye!

as the certified computer nerd of the family, when computers act up, the folks give me a call... I appreciate this, as it gives me a chance to visit the relatives, and I like tinkering so it's fun... I showed up to fix my uncle's printer last night and lo and behold, my 83 year old great uncle is there for the evening... he's returning to Toronto after a three week visit to CB... man that guy can drink, there was a 40 of Crown Royal on the table when I arrived and between 3 of us, we polished it off by the time I was heading back to the city... and it certainly wasn't me that polished most of it off... that said (credit given where credit is due, IMHO...), the guy is so funny he had me in stitches all night... it really makes me appreciate how good some members of my family are, and how lucky I am... for all the foibles our crazy clan may have, down deep just about everyone is genuinely kind and compassionate and shitloads of fun... the other part of the story is that my family tends to eat big, and I've strayed away from that tendency... I went for seconds last night, meaning I had one extra forkfull of salmon and an extra baby potatoe... after I was bullied back to the pots and pans, I ended up with a plateful again... while it really was delicious, I thought I was going to explode and I barely had enough room for a piece of lemon pie, which hell itself couldn't have kept me from having (it is pie after all!) and the inevitable conclusion was that I felt ill for the rest of the night from overeating... so I am making a note to myself right here to remember to not go for seconds when visiting relatives, even if it's tasty, because I'll suffer the consequences... unless it's steak, steak I can do... but not foie gras, that's just wrong...

"ow, people aren't made to bend like that"

well, I thought Emily Rose was an interesting movie, I enjoyed it more than I assumed I would... I had hoped it would be more of a suspense/thriller type and not a classic horror (re: hack and slash) movie, and this proved to be the case... it gave me chills at several points, that's what I enjoy from a good creepy movie (vs. seeing someone hacked into bits by a cackling madman...)

more to the point, I truly enjoyed the movie because it made me think... the presentation was rather one sided for most of the movie, as we really see only one perspective in detail (re: those that posit demonic possession as truth), but the other side is not left out entirely... I appreciated that... I assumed that I would be presented with "here's the demonically possessed girl, she's possessed, therefore you must accept the fact that the story we are presenting validates demonic possession and it's based on a true story so therefore it is fact"... but, I think they made an effort to tell the story and still give people enough detail that they can make up their own minds as to what happened... regardless of what they say, it's still fiction, no matter what events it may be based on, so fun story, but I digress...

it made me think. I like movies that make me think and make me question things... after sleeping on it, I can't say my views have changed any on this existence, but I certainly had thoughts and questions pounding the insides of my mind last night... disregarding any of the other god and devil and religious and scientific arguments in the movie, do demons exist or not? well, I have never really decided for myself, but I don't discount them from my outlook on reality...

my parents witnessed an exorcism of a family friend when I was a young lad... she had been given a book on Automatic Writing, where you basically open yourself up using methods of spiritual or mental exercises, to whatever is out there and let your hand have its own free will... (at least I think, I've never read much about it) anyway, so she tried this, and it worked for her, except after so long she couldn't get it to stop, and it would write things even when she was consciously trying not to... so she had friends and family involved in the church and two close friends who happened to be priests... anyway, not knowing any of the fine details myself, the story I was told goes, she was taken with the two priests and my parents to an exorcist who performed and exorcism and got whatever was controlling her hand the fuck outta her... so, me being me, I had to ask, "wasn't she just doing this herself? that's silly isn't it?" and my father who basically refused to talk about any details told me two things... the first was that it was the most frightening thing he had ever experienced (he was a rural RCMP officer for a while and had seen some nasty shit happen to people) and secondly that some of the things she had written were just like out of a horror movie... weird languages and things she should not have known, which were verified by linguists and other "officials" before they would consider the exorcism... so that's all I know about it really, the rest is conjured up in my mind... but, having not witnessed it myself, I have to say I believe the old man believes what he saw is real, and I give that some credence... also, I know the lady well, and she doesn't fit the profile of either a "nut" or a "pathological liar", so while I am not fully convinced, I give that story due merit based on those involved and my evaluation of their character...

basically, if all things are possible, though not probable, there is a possibility that demons exist, however improbable, and given that possibility, I don't discount them from my realization of this existence...

that said, I have no fear of them, that would be irrational...

nuff said...

WTF mate?

I found these while I was cleaning up old shit from my previous job... the boss brought them to work to show us one day, and a customer came in the door just as they were handed to me, thus they followed me home :) They amused me, thus I decided to scan and share.

I guess the story goes, some guy he randomly met at a bar (I assume his name was Juan, as that's the referee name on the cards... heh) regaled him with a story and handed him these... I don't even know if there was any other reason than to get frequent pimping points with the company... but oddly enough, they were in Montreal when they met... I guess people randomly travel to LA, but geez, these aren't exactly travel brochures ;)

Moral of the story: if you're going to post ridiculously silly XXX cards on the internet, at least have a reason for doing so.

"If The Women Don't Find You Handsome, They Should At Least Find You Handy"

not quite accurate, but close enough...

Living with a handyman has the drawback of not having to do any handyman work yourself... on the other hand, dating someone who has roommates that are not handymanishly inclined, gives room for one to be a little handy...

Yesterday, I shopped in the hardware section, gave some advice on small projects, installed two blinds, and finally changed a light switch and power outlet (both with the power still on, causing the other folks minor agitation over my health) and felt like a faggy version of Red Green, minus the suspenders and duct tape...

While I can't say they found me handsome, I am content with the fact I was considered passably cute and moderately butch...

In other news, my poor rotting-into-rust car is two steps closer to being replaced... a few friendly folks from home have a '92 Eagle Talon for sale (in near mint condition I might add...) that I may just be able to afford... owner is a mechanic and has kept the car in immaculate condition... my brother loved it and his only comment was, "You'll have to take off that sticker if you buy it." Just ahead of the gear shift is a big sparkly pinkish sticker that says, "BAD GIRL"... I didn't have the heart to tell him that was one of my favorite features ;)

Now if I can save the rest of the money I need, it may just work out... otherwise, it'll be the first half-decent automobile I happen to find before winter rears its ugly head...

They call him "flipper"

Actually, "slipper" would be much more appropriate... and not the thing you slide your foot into.

My roommate took me fishing on his boat today. It was a beautiful day for fishing, a tad windy and wavey, but just nice to be outside on the ocean. Being a boi that grew up on the ocean, I'm rather keen on walking around on the shore and unlike silly landlubbers, I'm quite steady on my feet. However, I spent the last few nights with someone and I'm suffering from lack of sleep... add to that I was wearing the loosest pair of flip flops ever and it was a recipe for me slipping and falling on my ass, which I did. Normally, I wouldn't be dumb enough to walk on this particular type of seaweed (especially with flip flops on) because it's as slimy as year-old jello... but it was 9:30 in the morning and I was still in stupid mode... Luckily for me, it was mostly only my pride that was hurt, though I scraped up my arm enough that it looks raw and stings to touch. The funny part was that I could see the look on my roommate's face, which was basically, "I'm concerned that you may have hurt yourself, but what the fuck were you thinking, dumbass." Hehe.

Enough of describing my stupidity. The real point to the post was that we saw dolphins... lots and lots of dolphins! We were headed back to land and passed through a large school of dolphins, they were playing all around us. Close enough that we could have touched them.. if our arms were 8 feet long. But anyway, it was a really nice experience to see them and be included in their playful romp along the coastline. Absolutely beautiful dolphins. My dreams should be fun tonight... well, if I'm allowed to get any sleep.

mmm, eyes... "Yar! And who be you?"

I met someone last night with stunningly beautiful eyes, I'm a very very lucky boi.

"what if we get stuck?"

Not the most beautiful picture in the world, but it's the bottom end of a culvert that's dear to my heart. A tiny little brook flows past my childhood home and I have countless fond memories of it. This culvert allows the brook to pass below the highway and spill into the ocean about 50 feet beyond this picture. As adventurous children, it took my brother, my friends and myself several years (and a lot of courage) to finally walk all the way from the other end through the darkness to this end. It was very creepy inside, with strange echoes, squishy surfaces and odd oily smells. Sweet memories.

I'll be what I will be

while very hectic, the past week has been quite enjoyable; Thursday I had the best group of people I've ever trained, I wanted to hug them all and tell them I loved them, but I figured that would be an easy way to get myself canned. later that day I had another great group, not as good as the morning crew, but comical in a "it's bloody hot and humid and we're all tired and want to leave for the long weekend" kind of way... one lady teased me the entire session, but I just laughed and plodded along. I arrived in CB Thursday night and spent some time relaxing with the folks. Friday night was a visit with a great uncle and great aunts, the great uncle had just arrived from Ontario for his first visit in 15 years; a few drinks and a lot of singing later, the evening ended for most of them; I got back to the house and watched movies all night; saturday was an evening out with friends, one of whom was housesitting for a Doctor and Doctor couple; a miniature mansion to be exact; we watched movies in their theatre ten played ping pong and pool in the games room; yeesh... Sunday was a party out on the Mira that went into the wee hours of the night, singing around a bonfire; Monday back out for an evening at the movies; Skeleton Key was entertaining, but didn't startle me even once; boo-urns. And now I'm back in halifax and back to work. Blargh.

So summer is coming to its inevitable close and as I left the Island today I felt the old familiar tug to home, even though I was just there. Recently I looked over my history of moves and tumultuous upheavals and the tendency is always to get into a rut in spring and ship off in late summer - early fall. For once, I am comfortable with the fact that whatever mental dance I go through, I'm happily anchored where I am with this job and I have no worried about losing focus. As much as I can ever say that, its like balancing jello on a toothpick... c'est la vie.