Imagine waking up with a sore nut, then imagine THAT being the least of your worries!
I’ve heard of bad days, but imagine how the other half feels… or never will again! The upside is, however, that the man will likely have a sturdy strong operational “fun stuff” and won’t have an arm to enjoy it….
That was a little offside wasn’t it?
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
High profile news!
Great news everyone! It seems the Afghan mission is turning up all kinds of “Prominent” leaders I have never heard of. My favourite quote from Regional Command-South Squadron Leader Dave Marsh:
"This seizure of a Taliban commander once again shows that there is nowhere to hide for insurgent leaders"
That is unless you are a 6 foot tall lanky sickly man who is more recognized internationally than Brad Pitt with diabetes and a penchant for buggery.
"This seizure of a Taliban commander once again shows that there is nowhere to hide for insurgent leaders"
That is unless you are a 6 foot tall lanky sickly man who is more recognized internationally than Brad Pitt with diabetes and a penchant for buggery.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Recognition
A cog in the wheel was he, and so impressed were his peers that they dubbed him Gear-zie – it was a small honour in comparison to the rush he felt each time the chute opened spewing filth and refuse from 4 bulding complexes that “Gear-zie” was responsible for sorting and disposing of in the appropriate bins. He was actually more of a facilitator than a propelling factor in the operation.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Thoughts
I have just returned from a pollution incident in the North Country, a few observations:
Tattoo is a funny nickname for anyone from any origin that is less than 5 feet tall
Stick is a funny name for someone very tall and very lanky
The water of Georgian Bay is much colder in January when you are standing in it up to your testicles
Some people just don't "Get It"
36 hours in a vehicle with an ex-military, is too much for anyone
Policemen are not all "Bastards"
2 days into a New Year's diet is too soon to be tasked to an area where the healthiest item on the menu is Caesar Salad
A Dodge 3/4 ton diesel 4X4 is NOT impervious to sliding on snow packed roads
And finally, sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all...
Tattoo is a funny nickname for anyone from any origin that is less than 5 feet tall
Stick is a funny name for someone very tall and very lanky
The water of Georgian Bay is much colder in January when you are standing in it up to your testicles
Some people just don't "Get It"
36 hours in a vehicle with an ex-military, is too much for anyone
Policemen are not all "Bastards"
2 days into a New Year's diet is too soon to be tasked to an area where the healthiest item on the menu is Caesar Salad
A Dodge 3/4 ton diesel 4X4 is NOT impervious to sliding on snow packed roads
And finally, sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all...
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Metric Satire
It seemed all her life was dedicated to small progressive moves toward whatever the end goal was, never progressing rapidly and always patiently – there was however a silver lining in never having to answer to the question: “what’s taking you?”, thought Milli, the inch worm.
Friday, January 05, 2007
In Duh South
Let me introduce you to my Girlfriend’s Daughter, Julie…
She sure is adorable.
Yesterday I went to pick up the little angel to discover that her and her cousins decided to play “Extreme Makeover” on each other. By the time I arrived they had only had time to focus on the coiffe.
Julie looks like something from the Jerry Springer show. The front of her head is clearly visible from all angles, which serves as a window into facial expressions I have never seen before, like the “my mommy is sooooooo pissed at me” puppy dog eyes look. Or the eyeball roll when she receives punishment for the crime.
Yup, I gots me a reg’lar little trailer bunny down ‘ere. The worst part is how Mommy is taking it. She was in another dimension for a while last night obviously preoccupied with the new look Julie. I’m thinking I need to take some of the heat off the poor kid.
I decided to make my lady look like the outsider and make her happy she has nice flowing curly ,locks and a fashion sense.
I’m going to take one of my tight under shirts and cut it just above my navel. I’m going to shave my head entirely except for a little curly tail in the back. I’m going to wear sweat pants that resemble a Hawaiian and techno-mess pattern. I’ll pick up a bottle of Brut after shave and smear it all over. For the kicker I’ll drink whiskey from the bottle, gnaw on beef jerky, yell at the television and smack Sue in the ass every time she walks within arm’s length… Hell I might even teach Julie to shotgun a beer!
Who’s the outsider now?
She sure is adorable.
Yesterday I went to pick up the little angel to discover that her and her cousins decided to play “Extreme Makeover” on each other. By the time I arrived they had only had time to focus on the coiffe.
Julie looks like something from the Jerry Springer show. The front of her head is clearly visible from all angles, which serves as a window into facial expressions I have never seen before, like the “my mommy is sooooooo pissed at me” puppy dog eyes look. Or the eyeball roll when she receives punishment for the crime.
Yup, I gots me a reg’lar little trailer bunny down ‘ere. The worst part is how Mommy is taking it. She was in another dimension for a while last night obviously preoccupied with the new look Julie. I’m thinking I need to take some of the heat off the poor kid.
I decided to make my lady look like the outsider and make her happy she has nice flowing curly ,locks and a fashion sense.
I’m going to take one of my tight under shirts and cut it just above my navel. I’m going to shave my head entirely except for a little curly tail in the back. I’m going to wear sweat pants that resemble a Hawaiian and techno-mess pattern. I’ll pick up a bottle of Brut after shave and smear it all over. For the kicker I’ll drink whiskey from the bottle, gnaw on beef jerky, yell at the television and smack Sue in the ass every time she walks within arm’s length… Hell I might even teach Julie to shotgun a beer!
Who’s the outsider now?
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Realize...
It's funny how some people can't see the other side of a situation. They take what they have for granted and use the kindness of a familiar face to their own gain.
I guess this is why Lawyers were created. They see in black and white and don't allow a person who might try to capitalize on someone's generosity to get that close to what is not theirs. The nice things about Lawyers (and there aren't many) is that they can undo past mistakes for the benefit of "the good guy".
Think of people who pour thousands of dollars into insurance packages and get nothing when the need for insurance arises; then, miraculously the Lawyer swoops in to save the day. Sure it costs some money, but they can take your situation from bad to good or at the very least, fair (enough).
What is the #1 uttered threat in North america? Well besides "I'm gonna Kick your ass" it's "You'll be hearing from my Lawyer", problem is that at the end of the day a lawyer can't fix the reason you are in the situation in the first place which is far more likely to have to do with another Money man...
The Phsychiatrist. You can tell them any problems you have from laziness to promiscuity or even poor money habits and they will likely manage to tie all of this to an event in your childhood where you should have been diagnosed with ADHD after you ran in the yard until you puked one day.
The Psychiatrist can reassure you that the problems you have were likely not your fault at all and that makes you nice and warm and fuzzy. And after all isn't that worth more than money?
Lawyers and Psychiatrists... helping you to prove that it's not your fault and that someone along the way (long before them) screwed up, for a small large fee. Sounds like a Contractor or Mechanic to me... "Well somebody did this wrong to start with, now I have to fix it".
I guess this is why Lawyers were created. They see in black and white and don't allow a person who might try to capitalize on someone's generosity to get that close to what is not theirs. The nice things about Lawyers (and there aren't many) is that they can undo past mistakes for the benefit of "the good guy".
Think of people who pour thousands of dollars into insurance packages and get nothing when the need for insurance arises; then, miraculously the Lawyer swoops in to save the day. Sure it costs some money, but they can take your situation from bad to good or at the very least, fair (enough).
What is the #1 uttered threat in North america? Well besides "I'm gonna Kick your ass" it's "You'll be hearing from my Lawyer", problem is that at the end of the day a lawyer can't fix the reason you are in the situation in the first place which is far more likely to have to do with another Money man...
The Phsychiatrist. You can tell them any problems you have from laziness to promiscuity or even poor money habits and they will likely manage to tie all of this to an event in your childhood where you should have been diagnosed with ADHD after you ran in the yard until you puked one day.
The Psychiatrist can reassure you that the problems you have were likely not your fault at all and that makes you nice and warm and fuzzy. And after all isn't that worth more than money?
Lawyers and Psychiatrists... helping you to prove that it's not your fault and that someone along the way (long before them) screwed up, for a small large fee. Sounds like a Contractor or Mechanic to me... "Well somebody did this wrong to start with, now I have to fix it".
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Ode to my departed readers
Did you really leave me again?
After all the minutes I spent writing,
watching the site meter,
listening at the Inbox,
waiting for the news of your return?
A whole lifetime I've been waiting.
I can't believe you're not clicking back.
I can't believe I'm supposed to stop linking.
I can't believe you left me again...
Please dear readers, don't give up! I can do fart jokes, I promise!
Then again I can't blame you, I treated you badly and posted too erratically.
But sometimes writing nothing is the best way to stay "FRESH"; that and showering which I would also choose over blogging.
Stay Fresh people!
TA
After all the minutes I spent writing,
watching the site meter,
listening at the Inbox,
waiting for the news of your return?
A whole lifetime I've been waiting.
I can't believe you're not clicking back.
I can't believe I'm supposed to stop linking.
I can't believe you left me again...
Please dear readers, don't give up! I can do fart jokes, I promise!
Then again I can't blame you, I treated you badly and posted too erratically.
But sometimes writing nothing is the best way to stay "FRESH"; that and showering which I would also choose over blogging.
Stay Fresh people!
TA
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Where oh where has my little dog gone?
It has been a whirlwind holiday season for the Perreaux household. Christmas Day began with the usual excitement and groggy-ness that comes with meat pie and whiskey hang-overs. Gifts were exchanged, appreciated and briefly discovered. A big breakfast was made with everyone's favorites. Then began the planning for the trip home to beautiful Saskatchewan to see my family.
at 3:00 PM the trip began from Sarnia. We made our way Southwest to sling around the cul de sac known as lower Lake Michigan. By 8 PM there was little traffic in Chicago (the first major hurdle in the US), then the course of travel changed North Westward, a few coffee stops, urinal visits and refuels and we were in the snowy beauty of Saskatchewan. Despite a lack of sleep me and my co-pilot arrived unscathed. I took the first few minutes to locate the usual snack bowls and spirit bottles then went off to bed to enjoy the warm, quiet comfort of the "North Room" where I get my best sleep no matter when I come to visit.
A few hours later I emerged from my slumber to the statement: "the dog is gone". It seems Jackal decided he wanted to see more of the country side than the 5 minutes outside of the car allowed him upon our arrival. I tried my usual whistle and calling routine to no avail. The familiarity of the situation brought me to the conclusion that Jackal had been scared by something and made a run for it.
The search began by visiting the usual suspects houses (the ones who own dogs) followed by a visit to secondary escape routes. No Jackal. Some jids were playing on the street with hockey gear when he ran for it, they pointed me in the direction of neighboring pastures as the direction of escape. I strapped up my boots and headed for the snow covered plains. I could see by the tracks left by my spring loaded Lab (and seemingly) Greyhound mix that he was at full speed. I trudged through the pasture on foot following his tracks calling for him. 2 hours later, no sunlight and a trail that ended near a cattle pen enclosed by electrical wire. My best guess was that he had a meeting with the wire and was even more scared at that point. There was no inconclusive evidence of his path of travel so I made my way to the farms nearby where he was not to be found.
I returned to the homestead to regroup and get a flashlight (and some homemade lasagne) before returning to the dark cold prairie winter with the help of my rescue team (Pa) calling and searching from the surrouning roads never to hear a peep. I slowly started to think my dog was cowering in a ditch somewhere frozen and scared. I felt helpless for him.
I decided to widen the search area on a hunch that he might have braved the barb-wire and highway to get further away from humanity rather than closer to it. I drove about two miles away from where I had lost the trail. As I drove along I spotted two white rabbits cross the road in front of me. I figured that there was a chance the dog scared them out of hiding. I stopped the car and turned it off and stepped out.
"J-A-C-K-A-L!"
T which Iheardda faint whimper.
I picked up my flashlight and shone it in the direction of the most beatiful sound in the world at that point. There, two reflective dots approachedbefore the ass dragging string bean that I had almost given up on.
He was tired, wet and hungry and looked petrified. He climbed onto the road and nearly toppled over from exhaustion. I picked him up and put him in the car unable to scold or discipline him. I had my puppy back.
I called Dad to let him know I had found Jack and he sounded almost as relieved as I did (from one dog lover to another, my Dad would likely still be looking out for him). Jack didn't move much the rest of the night and despite a few gashes from fences (I presume), he was in fine form. The rest of the holiday, Jack stayed close by and there were no more MIA situations. Thankfully my instincts match those of a half witted dog with big ears and little between them... gee maybe I'm not so thankful.
Happy new-year everyone, hope 2007 is your best too!
at 3:00 PM the trip began from Sarnia. We made our way Southwest to sling around the cul de sac known as lower Lake Michigan. By 8 PM there was little traffic in Chicago (the first major hurdle in the US), then the course of travel changed North Westward, a few coffee stops, urinal visits and refuels and we were in the snowy beauty of Saskatchewan. Despite a lack of sleep me and my co-pilot arrived unscathed. I took the first few minutes to locate the usual snack bowls and spirit bottles then went off to bed to enjoy the warm, quiet comfort of the "North Room" where I get my best sleep no matter when I come to visit.
A few hours later I emerged from my slumber to the statement: "the dog is gone". It seems Jackal decided he wanted to see more of the country side than the 5 minutes outside of the car allowed him upon our arrival. I tried my usual whistle and calling routine to no avail. The familiarity of the situation brought me to the conclusion that Jackal had been scared by something and made a run for it.
The search began by visiting the usual suspects houses (the ones who own dogs) followed by a visit to secondary escape routes. No Jackal. Some jids were playing on the street with hockey gear when he ran for it, they pointed me in the direction of neighboring pastures as the direction of escape. I strapped up my boots and headed for the snow covered plains. I could see by the tracks left by my spring loaded Lab (and seemingly) Greyhound mix that he was at full speed. I trudged through the pasture on foot following his tracks calling for him. 2 hours later, no sunlight and a trail that ended near a cattle pen enclosed by electrical wire. My best guess was that he had a meeting with the wire and was even more scared at that point. There was no inconclusive evidence of his path of travel so I made my way to the farms nearby where he was not to be found.
I returned to the homestead to regroup and get a flashlight (and some homemade lasagne) before returning to the dark cold prairie winter with the help of my rescue team (Pa) calling and searching from the surrouning roads never to hear a peep. I slowly started to think my dog was cowering in a ditch somewhere frozen and scared. I felt helpless for him.
I decided to widen the search area on a hunch that he might have braved the barb-wire and highway to get further away from humanity rather than closer to it. I drove about two miles away from where I had lost the trail. As I drove along I spotted two white rabbits cross the road in front of me. I figured that there was a chance the dog scared them out of hiding. I stopped the car and turned it off and stepped out.
"J-A-C-K-A-L!"
T which Iheardda faint whimper.
I picked up my flashlight and shone it in the direction of the most beatiful sound in the world at that point. There, two reflective dots approachedbefore the ass dragging string bean that I had almost given up on.
He was tired, wet and hungry and looked petrified. He climbed onto the road and nearly toppled over from exhaustion. I picked him up and put him in the car unable to scold or discipline him. I had my puppy back.
I called Dad to let him know I had found Jack and he sounded almost as relieved as I did (from one dog lover to another, my Dad would likely still be looking out for him). Jack didn't move much the rest of the night and despite a few gashes from fences (I presume), he was in fine form. The rest of the holiday, Jack stayed close by and there were no more MIA situations. Thankfully my instincts match those of a half witted dog with big ears and little between them... gee maybe I'm not so thankful.
Happy new-year everyone, hope 2007 is your best too!
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