Blaster from the past.

Once again people. We at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� DO NOT make viruses, nor do we send them to you.

We do however help you take care of them, for free I might add. And since we are doing it for free everyone in the fucking free world is calling us. So expect a wait time. It will be 4-5 hours, so suck it up princess cuz if you bitch at me I will hang up on you. I do not need your attitude. If you have not been hit with this virus yet, please, for the love of God, go and do your critical updates.

"Updates? We don't need no stinkin' updates!" Yes you do. moron, if you had done them yesterday we would not be having this lame ass conversation. So do it.

For more info on the virus go here. And don't call me, I am in a shitty mood. George Canyon lost to that little pencil necked, leather jacket wearing, spiked haired, Nick Carter wannabe. I know country and he ain't country.

Don't get me started.

And another thing...

If you are pirating software, do not, I repeat, do not copp and attitude with me when I tell you I can't help you.

READ MY LIPS! You are stealing the fucking software from us, we will not help you fix it! USE YOUR HEAD, CRAYON!

BullShit!

I have a very big pet peeve at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center�. Its the bathrooms. With all the 12 year olds they are hiring lately the place looks like Saturday night at the Liquor Dome.

You go in there and inevitably there is one stall where there is piss all over the seat. This is from the 'hoverer', you know the one. The freak who is so afraid to park her ass that she squats and hovers over the seat. How ironic that the only person spreading germs is the person who is afraid of getting them. They even put those paper seat cover dispensers in there, not for the assholes who are afraid of germs, but for the rest of us. If the moron uses the seat cover then she won't piss all over the seat like a 5 year old.

I however am not a moron. I know that this is an irrational fear. And now I have proof. Just finished watching Penn & Teller - Bullshit!, I love that show. It was all about safety and they had a segment about toilette seats. How dirty are they?

Dr. Edward Hodgkis "Urine has no bacteria, no viruses, it is a sterile solution. You get smelly and wet when you touch urine, but you don't get sick."

Bacteria like warm wet places. Toilette seats don't stay wet or warm for very long so they are actually a very inhospitable environment for bacteria. Scientifically it has been proven that your face and hands are dirtier than your ass.

So stop breaking your back trying to position yourself two feet off the toilette seat and pay more attention to the door handle on your way out.

Yes Meme Mamme!

As ordered by Radmilla (and frankly I am scared to refuse.)

A meme

I want everyone who reads this to ask me 3 questions, no more no less. Ask me anything you want and I will answer it. Then, I want you to go to your journal, copy and paste this allowing your friends (including myself) to ask you anything.

I'M UP! I'M UP!

I work 5pm -1am. I am rarely asleep before 5am, I just can't do it.

This morning at 8am the landlord thought it would be a good idea to start fixing the roof! I got up three times thinking someone was banging on the door. It happens. The way my apartment is laid out, I can never hear the door from my room.

So three times I bolt out of bed and run to the door, tripping over the cat, almost getting knocked unconscious by the coffee table, only to look out the window and see feet on scaffolding. Lord Love a Duck! To his credit, this is the first nice day in a week. Monday it snowed. You heard me, snowed. And it has been raining since.

By eleven I gave up and got out of bed. The good news is, its my day off. Bad news? I still have book work to do, a years worth. I will be at it all day and night.

Somewhere in my schedule today I have to fit in: Moving a couch and chair (twice), having a cell phone set up, dropping off money to one place and cigarettes to another. Cleaning the house in preparation of new couch and chair. Dishes, YUCK! All with the steady bang of roofers.

I just came back in from talking to them. More good news, they are going to take care of my little pigeon problem while they are up there. God love them. Probably not out of the goodness of their hearts. I happened to look over at his truck and it is already covered in pigeon shit.

It was funny when it was happening to me, but now its personal. The man is on a mission.

Thrift store behavioral psychology

Went to Louey's with my sister and the boy today. Louey's is a thrift store consisting of huge 5x6 ft bins piled high with clothes. I dread going there, I just look hopelessly at the huge piles and sigh. It is just too overwhelming.

I shop one way.
Walk into the store.
Spy a color I like and move in on item.
If I like it I choose the size and walk out.
There is no trying on or debate in my shopping, I am in and out in 5 minutes.

My sister is a professional thrift store customer. Usually I pick through things and eventually she will lift something up and say, "What about this?" and of course I like it. That is the beauty of going with a professional, you don't really have to look, she finds it all. All you have to do is mill about and look busy. I am hopeless at it, since I have absolutely no upper body strength. After about an hour my back starts to protest and I lean against one of the bins and wait, hoping it will be over soon. The boy is of the same mind, he is starting to get annoying.

After two hours she starts to slow down and says, �I guess that�s it.� The boy brightens, he thinks that means we are leaving. Foolish child, that just means we will be working our way back towards the front of the store. This process will take another half hour. He is trying to speed things up by holding things up and saying, �What about this?�

I lean down and whisper in the boys ear, �Boy, that�s not how it is done. Watch this. If you want her to leave you do this.� I straighten and take two steps backwards, facing her with my arms akimbo. Without looking at me she turns to the register and lays her purchases down. She does not even realize what has happened.

Once you are in tune with the behavioral psychology of the professional thrift store customer, they are like Pavlov�s dog, you just ring the bell.

Ten things I know about the Yanks.

1. Every four years they decide who they hate the most and make him president.

2. American�s think everyone wants to live there, when in fact people immigrate there when they can�t get into a Canada.

3. Their money is very ugly.

4. Many of them will live their entire lives in locations that get wiped out by some natural disaster every single year. Some people can not take a hint.

5. By the 1980�s, everyone else in the free world was using the metric system, the US is pretty much the only hold out. Well except for Lyberia and Myanmar, but who the hell knows where that is? I guess they are just waiting to see if it really does catch on.

6. They keep all their old people in Florida, their cowboys in Texas and the fake people they put in California.

7. They only drink Starbuck�s coffee and they eat a lot of meat products that come on sticks.

8. They will shoot you if you ask for directions.

9. Ok, so it�s 8 things, but I bet I can name more states than any one of them can name provinces.

10. So there!

Stand up and be counted!

Great idea stolen from Natalie. I know there are people out there who read this but never comment. I won't embarrass anyone by singling them out (Bev) but just this once, click on the comments and say �Hey!�

I don�t expect you to comment, I don�t want your email address, you don�t have to list your URL, just a friendly �Howdy Neighbour� is all I�m looking for.

Come on, I know you are there, I can hear you breathing. Stop lurking and wave for fuck sake!

Don�t make me stop this car!

Aunt Flo is dead, dead, dead!

For those of you following along. I got the Depo-provera shot on March 12, the doctor told me it could take up to a year but I would eventually have no monthly visit from Aunt Flo. Well, I am officially long past her regular visit.

FLO IS A NO SHOW! Not a sign or a word form her, zippo, ziltch, nadda!

And no, I will not miss that obnoxious, lowlife, miscreant, shithead, skite, wretch, pig-sucking quiff. I am glad she is dead, and I hope she rots in hell.

Ahhhh! I feel much better.

So? How was your day?

Welcome to Canyon Country.

Walked into the post office today and it was decorated up with white and red ribbons, in fact just about every building on the street is done up this way.

Am I missing something? Aparently so. I asked the girl from the smoke shop across the street, she jokes and says its July first (Canada Day), I had to think about that for a second. But no she says, its George Canyon Day.

WTF? Aparently I am in Canyon Country.

Anyone who watches Nashville Star on the USA network will know that George Canyon has made the top 4. Why is this such a big deal here? Well he is a hometown boy, everyone knows someone who knows George, or Fred I should say.( his real name).

He has been here all day, going from town to town all over Pictou County doing personal appearances and filming for the tv show. They are aparently doing segments for all 4 finalists going home for the day. Every store front, every sign on every corner says stuff like, WELCOME HOME GEORGE! and GO GEORGE GO! someone told me the sign on the highway that says Welcome to Pictou County also says YOU ARE NOW ENTERING CANYON COUNTRY!

It is a huge deal here. If the signs are still up tomorrow I will take some pictures. It has to be seen to believed. Or you could just tune in on Saturday and see it. (and vote for George of course)

I might do that myself, see the town on TV, that might be fun. I hope they had the good sense to keep the crazies at home so we aren't embarassed.

We shall see.

PS: I have added a couple of tunes for your listening enjoyment. It's over there on the left.

UPDATE

Pictures as promised:

China calling.

This call came in Sunday night, at about 10:30 Atlantic Standard Time.

"Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Customer Service Center�, my name is blah blah blah...."

"Yes, I was supposed to get a callback on my case, and I never got it."

I get the case number and bring it up. "It says you are scheduled for a callback on Monday, April 19 at 8:30am."

"Ya, It's after 6 and I never got it." He is flipping.

"Yes but this is Sunday, you are scheduled for Monday."

"It is Monday where I am." Maybe I am missing something. Just because you say it, doesn't make it so. This guy is getting very upset with me.

"No, this is the 18th."

"Ya, and I never got my callback."

"Sir you are scheduled for Monday the 19th, this is Sunday the 18th." Maybe I am missing something. "Where are you calling from?"

"Arizona. AND I AM TELLING YOU IT IS PAST 6, MONDAY NIGHT!"

"Well Sir I am on Atlantic Standard time, and it is Sunday, April 18th 10:30 PM. In order for it to be Monday where you are, you would have to be calling from China."

Wait for it...........................< CLICK >

I know Arizona is on its "own" time, but you can't just pick a day.

Hi-Ho Hi-Ho...

I am heading off to work in a couple minutes, and the boy is going with his father. I love working on the weekends, it is so dead. We just sit around and socialize.

Tomorrow Kimmy is coming over to clean my house. You heard me. She is going to clean my house.

There is no law that says you have to clean your own house. And anyone who thinks it is disgraceful that I would have someone else do it for me, are just jealous.

I love you Kimmy!

Twenty Three Things.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. What does it say? ble." The events of the year 1812 in Russia were a perfect
2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first? my tea
3. What is the last thing you watched on TV? That 70's Show.
4. WITHOUT LOOKING, can you guess what the time is? 12:15pm
5. Now look at the clock, what is the actual time? 12:46pm
6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? Cars driving down the street, the cat's bell, the ticking of the keyboard.
7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing? I went outside to check the weather this morning. Was warm and very windy.
8. Before you came to this website, what did you look at? Checked suprnova to see if I needed to start another download, I am addicted to it.
9. What are you wearing? PJ's and a robe, no socks, my feet are freezing.
10. Did you dream last night? Yes, but as soon as I read the question, I forgot the dream.
11. When did you last laugh? Last night, most of the shit at work cracks me up.
12. What is on the walls of the room you are in? A sign that says "you are here, now get out", a one dollar bill (the paper kind), cork board with a bunch of crap on it, pictures mostly of my son, a mothers day project made by my son in '97.
13. Seen anything weird lately? A girl with green dreglocks, ok thats just gross, but I got nothing else.
14. What do you think of this quiz? Different.
15. What is the last film you saw? Gothika, loved it.
16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?Laptop, no idea why but top of the line.
17. Can you tell something about you that no one knows? Naw...I am pretty much an open book.
18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do? I would eliminate God from the equation
19. Do you like to dance? I have absolutely no rythem.
20. George Bush: is he a power-crazy nut case or some one who is finally doing something that has needed to be done for years? Finally doing something.
21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her? Michaela.
22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him? Did call him, Mason.
23. Would you ever consider living abroad? Nope. That would require getting on one of those flying death traps.

Please God....make it stop!

I just forced myself to watch The Nick and Jessica Variety Hour and I gotta say, it was painful. I never actually watched Jessica Simpson sing before so I wasn't sure she was being serious. She reminds me of the Sweeny Sisters from SNL.

I am not sure what they were thinking, but Sonny and Cher, they ain't. The best thing about it was Mr. T.

I pity the fool who had to take the blame for this crap. It has to be seen to be believed.

Peeeheeew....Christmas!

I was told today I smell like Christmas.

Ray: Evel, you always smell like Christmas.
ME: What the hell does that mean? ( I am such a princess, so gracious)
Ray: I don't know, you just always smell like Christmas.
ME: Is that good?
Ray: Ya.
ME: Unless of course your Dad's a drunk and your Christmas smells like barf and eggnog.

Didn't really clarify what smelling like Christmas meant. All I do know is that he was definately NOT coming on to me.

So, what does that mean?

Anyone have a theory?

Dream Job and Nightmare Accomodations

Two beautiful days at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center?, last night I took two calls. Count em....two. I love my job. We sat around all night and played cards.

Since I went pro, Monday nights are really the only night that I actually have to do anything. Tuesdays are broken up with a team meeting, by Wednesday its pretty much leveling off. Then I am off on Thurs and Friday and Saturday and Sunday, as you could imagine, are pretty dead.

Did I mention, I love my job?

Yesterday I also went to see my mother. It was a good thing that my sister was with me, because my brother moved her without telling me. We had agreed that my mother may need to go to a home, if she didn't snap out of her wig-out, but we also agreed that she would have her choice of home. She has a couple places in mind where a lot of her friends live, it was just a waiting game to see when one became available.

Well, I guess on Wednesday, my brother took my mother to "look" at a place and left her there. WTF? It was like a bad movie. He just left her there. When I walked into this place I was stunned. My mother went from a seniors apartment, living room, kitchen, bedroom and bath, to a dorm room with a bathroom. I can't imagine she took one look at the place and said, "I love it, can I stay?" It is depressing. She only knows one person in the whole place. And the kicker? She has been put back on full lithium and appears to be snapping out of the whole wiggy thing.

So, why the big rush? No clue, I can't imagine her being happy there.

So, before I left I told her. If you find that you absolutely hate it here, I will yank you out. I can always get a bigger place and move her in with me. I will not let my mother waste away in a place she is not happy.

She might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she is my mother.

It's Heart Attack and Take a Stroke month.

Just waiting for a movie to burn to cd, so I thought I would tidy up, sit back down to the computer and ...

HOLY FUCKING FLYING JESUS!

A SPIDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You would think I was bringing down a rhino, I hit it that hard. There is absolutely no identifying that body.

One sec till I take care of this little heart attack thing.

"Charge to 300..................CLEAR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Spring is finally here. Jesus, I hate the warm weather. Warm weather means icky crawling things and freak-me-the-fuck-out flying things. I don't know which is worse. Either one turns me into fucking spaz.

Seeing me from a distance you would think I was having some sort of seizure. Hearing me without visual, you would be hard pressed not to call the police, because you would swear I was being brutally murdered.

Now I am fucked for the entire night. Every time my hair tickles the back of my neck I will take a stroke. Every time my pant leg moves I will imagine tarantulas crawling up my leg and jump out of my skin. I see anything I even think might be moving, I will smash it to smithereens and ask questions later. Hair scrunchies beware!

Did I mention I am not all that fond of spiders?

"Warped logic" or "How to torture the boy" working titles

Not exactly sure how I came up with this brilliant idea but the boy wants a new skateboard for Easter. Of course, he wants the $100 skateboard.

"That's all I want, Mom, no candy just the skateboard."

"Holy shit! No, it's Easter, not Christmas."

Then I go out and spend $100 on candy, stupid little dollar store toys, a basket and that crap you put in it. You know that fake grass that you are vacuuming up for months afterwards or the cats will choke to death on, since they don't have the sense to not eat it.

What the hell is up with that? I bought so much stuff it won't all fit in the basket. Why didn't I just buy the fuckin' skateboard? No earthly idea. I didn't even get eggs for Christ's sake.

Although it may be my subconsious way of sticking it to the boy for not cleaning the yard like I asked him. Or taking out the garbage, hell, he never does anything I ask him to do. So why the hell should I shell out my hard earned money for a skateboard.

I think that might be it, the subconcious thing I mean. As I am trying to transfer all this crap from the bag to the basket, I notice something odd at the bottom of the bag. A purchase I don't remember making.

Work gloves, size small.

Americans, ya gotta love em.

I found this site today, this guy has found us out. We will have to do something about that.

You would be suprised at the things that have been said to me when people find out I live in Nova Scotia, Canada.

"Oh, a guy I worked with was from Canada, Bob MacDonald. Do you know him?" Oh ya, Office Bob, he's dead.

"Wow, it must be really cold there?" Oh no, wait till July, that's our coldest month. Most yanks think the temperature drops 30 degrees the second you cross the border.

"You guys all live in igloo's don't ya?" Of course we do, have you ever tried to drive a nail into a frozen tree?

"Ya right. No one lives in Nova Scotia." Your right, I just made that up. Same guy says to me, "So, do you have, like, shopping malls and stuff?" Of course not, we hunt for food and use the skins for clothes.

"Wow, yawl shur dernt sawn Kinadi'in." What are you talking aboot, eh?

"Is it still dark up there this time of year?" Are you on crack? No, we just started our 6 month of daylight. JEEZ!

MY EYES! MY EYES!

There is a casual dress code at Undisclosed Customer Service Center�. It is very much laid back but you are supposed to use your common sense. One of the D&D guys from my row was wearing a short sleeved shirt the other day and a TM told him it was too tight. He tells me this last night. I saw the shirt, I don�t get it.

�Are you kidding me? He must have been yankin� your chain.� But no, he was not. He told him it was not professional attire. This really got to me. Let me tell you why.

There are some women at Undisclosed Customer Service Center� that clearly do not adhere to the policy. The common sense policy that says: do not show your thighs, cleavage or belly. I think they even added in bare shoulders in there somewhere. Pretty simple, right? Wrong.

You might not think this is such a big deal, and it might not be, except for the fat chicks. (Don�t get all up in arms ala-Em over this, I am a fat chick) I don�t feel like looking at some rail thin teeny bopper in a mini skirt with a belly ring and her boobs hanging out, so can you imagine having to look at that same outfit on a fat chick.

Point in fact. Girl the other day, completely round from all directions, I can�t guess weight, but she was about 3 feet all the way around and she was in hip huggers with a belly shirt. Please people, have a little consideration. I am all for healthy body image, but that is just wrong. Especially for the work place. Or worse, having to see a half dozen girls bent over with their thongs hanging out the back of their jeans and their tits spilling out. What the hell is this, Club Med? A little professionalism please.

The men are just as bad. Muscle bound guys in t-shirts so tight you think it is cutting off the circulation. Wearing jeans they had to pole vault to get into. Ok, picture this on a 350 lb man, with boobs. And since the t-shirt is so tight it rides up, revealing his big fat hairy stomach. Or rail thin guys, (who play for the home team) with belly shirts and their thongs hanging out the back of their jeans.

The problem is, the men. They want to see the rail thin bimbo in the belly shirt, so they can�t say anything about the fat chick in the belly shirt. That would be discrimination. Holy shit!

If it is a policy, then enforce it. Don�t take your frustration out on some nerd with a tightish sweater.

There are a lot of turnip trucks in the US. And they do not strap those morons on.

Without saying what company I actually work for, I will tell you who we DON"T work for, but people insist on contacting us. Moreover they become irate when we can't help them.

C.O.r.el
A.d.ob.e
N.et.s.ca.pe
R.ed.H.at
Li.nu.x
A.pp.l.e
L.in.xu.s
P.al.m
I.SP's
Any company represented with a website. Any company.
Cell phones
VCR's
Satalite dishes
Microwaves
Absolutely anything internet related. The list goes on and on.

Also, they believe we are everything computerized.

If people don't know the number for a company, they call us. What am I? Directory assistance?
They can't think of a website, they discribe it, do I know which one they are talking about? NO ASSHOLE, I DO NOT!

"You do realize that you did not call Mo.to.rol.la?"

"Can't you help me?" NO YOU MORON!

The day off from hell!

Got a call this morning from the boy's principal. He is suspended from school. What fun.

The Boy has not been bringing his materials to school and when required to remain for an after school detention he skipped the detention and left the building without permission.

And to top it all off, he lied right in the face of the principal. Told him I was not at home, that I went in early for work to do overtime. Needless to say he called my work and then my home. I don't know what has gotten into the boy, but he is stomping all over my last nerve. So, he is suspended for a day. They sent work home for him to do while he is off.

Right after the principal hung up, I get another call from the dentist. "Time for The Boy's yearly exam."

"Ya got anything more painful than a cleaning? You can sign him up for that too."

"That kind of a day, huh?"

"You don't know the half of it."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, your a peach."

The boy's father came over and he is just useless. I tore a strip off him. He is such an asshole, I can't even tell you. He said nothing to the boy. I don't think he ever grew up himself. Two seconds into the conversation, he made it about me, then about him.

I finally had to tell him to get the fuck out, "You are useless. Get out of my house." Then I had to appologize to the boy, mostly for making that son of a bitch his father. I am in a mood, I should stop now.

Like lambs to the slaughter.

I am finally over my cold for the most part. All that is left is the damage I have done, you know, sore nose.

Last night I spent 5 hours with the new hires at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� they were taking a final test before they hit the phones and I was sitting with them in case they needed help. I had 5 in all and the first three pretty much nailed it. The thing was, they could only ask me a question if they put the �customer� (which in this case was a team manager) on hold. Otherwise I had to ignore them. They had to take 2 fake calls and pass them both.

Number four was a little nervous, she knew her stuff but she talked a little fast and put the customer through for support on one call without verifying that they were entitled to it. So she passed one call and failed the other. No big deal, she will take another call tomorrow.

The final girl of the night started strong, I could see she was shaking a little, but she was doing well. Then she says, �I am just going to ask a few routing questions�.� And when she looked up, there were no routing questions. She got a �deer in the headlight look� and just stared at me. I couldn�t help her unless she put the �customer� on hold. She panicked, she started talking to herself under her breath and at one point said �I don�t know what I am doing.� At that point I held up a piece of paper that read HOLD, because her tears had started.

I knew she failed the call because the customer heard her say she didn�t know what she was doing. But I told her she was doing fine, don�t give up, finish the call. She was upset that now the caller was on hold.

�Leave her there, don�t worry about it. Take your time and pull yourself together.� She did and got through the rest of the call fine. She would have passed it the TM had not heard her say those words.

Her trainer, the TM and I all told her she was doing fine, but when the trainer said she failed the call she lost it again. She still had another call to do but she was too upset.

By this time in the day I had been five hours without a smoke so I was getting punchy. �Screw it, lets go for a smoke first.� I told the TM we were going and went outside. After a smoke, she splashed water on her face and nailed the last call.

The most stressful part of the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� experience is the unknown. The reason the tests upset so many people is that they know the people on the other end know what they are supposed to be doing. But the general public are not going to know if you are saying everything you need to say and doing everything you need to do. The stress level will go down when you realize this. I told the girl that after a week this would all be second nature to her. That a monkey could do the job. She was more upset that she had cried and I told her she wasn�t the first and she wouldn�t be the last. Tonight I will find her before she takes the test again and give her a little pep talk.

It is always the ones who think they will never get it, that turn out to make the best agents.

Vermin Update!

The reason for the move.

Let�s see, how to put it? I have recently become aware of a few undesirables at work reading my blog. Namely a couple who are in the middle of a soap opera of their own making. Let�s call them Skank and Hank.

Skank and Hank are married, just not to each other. This was fine until a month or so ago when the shit hit the fan. They got caught by their respective spouses. When this happened they, of course, blamed everyone but themselves. They even went to the manager of operations at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� to complain that people were talking about them. More like laughing hysterically. What he was supposed to do about it? I am not sure what they were thinking.

Anyway, they have brought my name into it more than once. Mostly because I am friends with one of his ex-friends. If you are a regular reader, this is the first you are hearing about this. That is how little I care about the whole thing. It was a complete non event for me. Granted, it was funny and the gossip was juicy but apart from that, I could not have cared less.

The other day, my friend (Mr. Spilly) discovered that Skank and Hank found his site and decided to comment on it. It was a bit much I thought. You would think that they would want this to go away but apparently not. Not only did they comment on his blog, but they sent the URL of it to a team manager. This is how they found my blog. Although they have not commented on it so far, and I doubted that they would, (they are gutless wonders, those two) it is only a matter of time before they try and fuck with me. Which is a mistake. You do not want to fuck with my livelihood.

So long, long, long story short. I moved the site. When I first heard of it, I was going to take the site down altogether, but then I thought, fuck them! I am not the one fucking around with anything that moves. I am just here minding my own business.

I have been around the block a time or two, and I have experience with assholes like that. I keep meticulous records and if this in any way effects my ability to provide for the boy you may want to run for the hills. Even if you were squeaky clean, believe me, I could fuck you up! .

I am a nice person, but if I don�t like where you got it, I can tell you where to put it.

When Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

I have been sick since Monday. And let me tell you I am a poor, pitiful pain in the ass when I am sick. I could tell I was getting sick Sunday night and I whined the whole night. I called in sick on Monday, but of course the boy tortured me the whole time. No sympathy from that front.

Decided I might as well go to work, since I was getting no sleep. Every time I laid my head down I couldn�t breathe, what fun. I always get sick in the weirdest possible ways. For instance, I never get all the symptoms of a flu at once. First day cranky and sore throat. Second day cranky and coughing. Third day cranky and stuffed up, fourth day runny nose, sneezing and, you guessed it, cranky. Oh and during runny nose, cranky day? If I do not get the tissue with the lotion then fifth day becomes cranky, sore nose cold sore day.

But I digress, Tuesday I go into work. I forewarn everyone around me that I am still sick and as an added bonus I am super bitch cranky. By the end of the night I am cursing like a sailor on shore leave and telling my TM that, no matter what, I was not giving anybody anything but the bare fucking minimum and he could have my ass fired if he wanted but I was sick and I warned everyone that I was in a foul mood.

Wednesday I showed up for work, in a slightly better mood although I did mention the desire to kick someone. I made it to 10 before I went home early. Got home and crawled into bed. I have not strayed far since. Today is the absolute best. Alternating from stuffed so bad I can�t swallow without popping my ears, to my nose running like two booger faucets. I am sorry, but I have blown enough snot to fill a bathtub. Where the fuck does it come from? Relief from the alternating runny/stuffy nose comes in the form of 5 minute, non stop sneeze fests. Did I mention I was cranky?

I am NOT getting out of bed tomorrow for anything. I have instructed the boy not to cross the threshold unless he is either bleeding or on fire and even then he is taking his life into his hands.

People kill people.

Watched Bowling for Colombine the other night. Anyone who hasn't seen it, really should.

Bowling for Columbine" is an alternately humourous and horrifying film about the United States. It is a film about the state of the Union, about the violent soul of America. Why do 11,000 people die in America each year at the hands of gun violence? The talking heads yelling from every TV camera blame everything from Satan to video games. But are we that much different from many other countries? What sets us apart? How have we become both the master and victim of such enormous amounts of violence? This is not a film about gun control. It is a film about the fearful heart and soul of the United States, and the 280 million Americans lucky enough to have the right to a constitutionally protected Uzi.

... From a look at the Columbine High School security camera tapes to the home of Oscar-winning NRA President Charlton Heston, from a young man who makes homemade napalm with The Anarchist's Cookbook to the murder of a six-year-old girl by another six-year-old, "Bowling for Columbine" is a journey through America, and through our past, hoping to discover why our pursuit of happiness is so riddled with violence.

One of the most interesting parts, for me, was when he asked Americans why they thought that the gun death rates were so much higher in America (over 11,000/year) than in, say, Canada (under 200). Their reply?

Canadians don't have as many guns. (10 million people, 7 million guns. That can't be it.)
Canadians don't have violent movies, TV, or video games. (Hello! We get all the same stuff.)
There are no poor people in Canada. (really? we have welfare, I wonder what for?)
There are no black people in Canada. ( I realize that he probably interviewed the dumbest of the dumb for effect, but please.)

It is amazing to me how much we (Canadians) know about America and how little Americans know about Canada. It's like they get all their information from TV, and that is just sad.

Even the Taliban knows you have to diversify.

This is what I have to deal with. Even though I am in Pro now, I do get the odd redneck. I use that term for lack of a better, you be the judge.

Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Customer Service Center' my name is Evel....blah blah blah'

'Ya, I was just talking to a tech and was cut off.' hung up on you mean, I can tell by this guys snotty attitude that he probably deserved it, but I give him the benifit of the doubt.

'Sorry about that sir, do you remember his name I can put you directly back to him.'

'Ah, no, and I would appreciate NOT going back to India.' Ok , I was wrong, no doubt here. I give him the schpeel about being a global company and all I could do is transfer him with no guarantee where he would go.

'Well, this is the thing. I refuse to speak to any member of the Taliban. Or anyone else in the middle east.' I kid you not, he actually said those words. He stuns me for a second. Most rednecks try to mask their ignorance by telling you they are not prejudice, they just have problems understanding people in India. Not this guy.

'Well, Sir, I can guarantee you that the Undisclosed Customer Service Center' does not employ members of the Taliban.' this prompts surprised stares from my coworkers. I didn't bother to point out the fact that India is not even in the middle east.

'Ya right. Fine, you can get me back to the guy I had before, his name was Chris, (sarcastically) I am guessing it is not his real name I could sorta understand him.' I check the file and have to mute the guy, I am busting a gut.

Aside from the fact that he got India confused with Afghanistan, the tech he spoke to wasn't even in India. He was in Canada, and his name? Could not have been anything but Chinese.

Perhaps the Command Post should look into this. Apparently the Taliban is now headed up by Chinese Canadians who set up customer service businesses in India. Neat trick moving India into the middle east, and no one noticed.

Alert the media!

Drip.....drip.....drip....

Here�s the dilemma, do you update the blog every day so your millions two of screaming fans regular readers don�t stop coming here all together? Or do you wait till you actually have something interesting to say? I mean, blogging for the simple sake of blogging can get pretty dull don�t ya think? And dull has already been done to perfection.

So then you have to think up some thing that you can put up regularly as a backup filler type thing. Like - I have nothing interesting to say today, so here�s the up to date weather for Southern Iceland.

I know! I can rant about the boy. Up until now I have shielded you, gentle reader, from the satanic day to day torture that is the boy.

He comes home from school and before he even gets his coat off flops down on my bed and moans, I am bored. Of course he only does this if I am trying to write something or am doing just about anything that needs some sort of brain cell activity. I list off everything he could be doing but he is having none of it. There is no answer to his problem. Do not even try.

If I am reading, it is the exact time that he must speak with me, or he will, apparently explode. And it is usually something earth shattering like, he farted.

He never, ever, ever calls his own father. He will not call him to come and pick him up. He will however make my life a living hell until I call his father. I think it is because he knows how much I hate to do that, and because when his father says no, he can somehow make it my fault. And in a way it is my fault. I was the idiot that slept with that loser all those years ago.

Once every day I go completely horse from screaming. The boy has Chinese water torture down to a science.

I can never, ever, ever go shopping with him. Since he was a baby it has been the same. He would go on and on about a certain, specific toy that he just had to have. We would proceed to the store and look for it. But, and it�s a big but, if I was the first of us to lay hands on said toy, it made the toy null and void. �But this is the exact one you described?�

�I don�t want that one.�

�Is it just because I have touched it? CUZ I CAN STOP TOUCHING IT!� So instead of walking in the store, knowing what we want and walking out 10 minutes later, it becomes a day long affair.

He did this to me yesterday. �There are $10 hats at Cleves, can I get one?� We go into the store and for some reason I lose my mind and actually lay hands on the hat. What the hell was I thinking? Do you know how hard it is to find a ball hat in Canada, in the winter? I do now. TWO FUCKING DAYS AND THIRTY TWO FUCKING DOLLARS!

And what, pray tell, is my reward for this? He is, at this very moment, shooting golf balls against my closed bedroom door.

Drip, Drip, Drip!

The soup Sub Nazi.

Last night at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� the CSR�s were rewarded with free subs for meeting and exceeding customer satisfaction stats. This reward was strictly for CSR�s not techs, it is important to note this.

I was asked, at one point in the evening, to work security for the fridge. �Are you serious?�

�Yes, the subs are for the CSR�s and they only ordered enough for one for everyone.�

Great�.a cushy job off the phones. I soon realized that it was totally necessary. Is this high school? I thought you had to at least be the age of majority to work in this building? At first it was just directing everyone to which box held which variety of sub, but soon escalated into a full blown inquisition. I felt like the Sub Nazi. �Are you in CC? No? NO SUB FOR YOU!�

These subs were by no means a gourmet meal. They were crappy old cold cut subs. What was the fuckin� obsession with getting one by any means necessary? Why did grown men feel the need to deceive me in order to get one? One guy gave me a whole song and dance about how he always missed out on every free food day they had here at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� because he was always diligently trying to help a customer and when he finally had time to go for the food, it was all gone.

�That is why I am here, because people like you wanted to take what wasn�t due them and you ended up with nothing. Suck it up, princess.� Later he walked by me with a sub in his mouth, he had gotten a girl in CC to get him one. Kids!

Another said, �I don�t see why the techs have been excluded.�

�Did you reach your customer satisfaction stats? No? Then NO SUB FOR YOU!�

Now there are hundreds of people working at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� and I couldn�t possibly know all the ones in CC, so I would ask the question and since I figured these people were not twelve, they would answer truthfully. I figured wrong. Even a team manager in CC couldn�t get with the program, she actually went into the fridge (for the second time I found out later) and removed 2 subs and gave one to her boy-toy boyfriend who was a tech. What a great role model.

After my shift as the Sub Nazi I suggested that next time each team manager receive a ticket for each person on their team, no ticket, no sub. Simple. Of course I have no confidence that management will take my suggestion.

That would make sense, and sense just baffles these people.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Almost pissed myself last night at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� got a guy on the phone calling all over hell and creation trying to activate his software.

I ask a few probing questions, like, "Is the computer asking for activation?"

"No, but my buddy told me it had to be activated."

After 15 min or so I come to find out that he has ancient software, it works fine for what he is doing, no internet.

"Sir, you do not have to activate that software." he went silent, I didn't know what else to tell him. If it ain't broke, I can't fix it.

"Are you trying to tell me that I wasted the last 3 hours calling everyone trying to get help with this and you are REFUSING TO HELP ME?" He was actually pissed off! I was trying so hard not to laugh.

"I can't help you, there is nothing wrong with your software. You might want to take it up with your buddy for giving you wrong information." He was ranting that he wanted to speak to a supervisor. What for?

I should have told him that before we could go any further I would have to ask him to please put on the tinfoil hat. I just hooked him. I doubt he will call back, I think he was more pissed off once he realized he had just wasted his time and money trying to get help on a problem that didn't exist.

Oh well, he was good for a laugh.

Anyway, have a good one . And may you be half an hour in heaven before the devil knows your dead.

Trouble in paradise.

Had a little tiff with a co-worker tonight she was pissed at me and, frankly, I ended up pissed.

There were only four of us working. The TM decided to do all our end of month reviews, which is kinda cool we all got a little time off the phones. Even though we are not busy, it is still nice.

Anyway, my turn comes and when I get up there he is coaching someone so I wait until he is done. Then he brings out my month end. �Didn�t we already do this?�, he says.

�Ah, ya. But I can still get time off the phones can�t I?� and we laugh.

�Hmmmm ok, you can sit here, or we can go for a smoke?�, he says.

�Cool, lets go.� If he is bluffing, I am calling him on it.

I get my coat and we head out. The others stand up and everyone notices.

When I get back, the girl next to me is clearly pissed. I make light of it, and she says flat out that she is pissed. I of course laugh, cuz I think it is ridiculous to be pissed. If I had been in her shoes, I of course would have laughed, called her a bitch (both jealously and jokingly) and moved on. At this point it is done, and there is nothing I can do to take it back. I realize she is pissed and I am sorry she is, but short of turning back time, I don�t see how I can make it right. Lets move on.

That is not how she handled it.

She said it was favouritism, I disagreed, since I think whoever he had up there would have ended up going for a smoke, I doubt it was because of me. She disagreed.

I pointed out that more than a few people sign off the phones and sneak out for a smoke, and she has no problem with that? No, it is wrong but she has no problem with that. �Is it just that it was me then?� No it was that a TM went with me, and it was, in her mind, favouritism.

�Ok, so if you don�t have a problem with me sneaking out, you have a problem with the TM, take it up with him�

�I think I will.�

�Fine then, it was wrong, I agree and it will never happen again. Are we done?�

Nope we are not she went on to say that she wouldn�t have gone if it was her. Ok, that�s her, I guess I am morally corrupt. Through most of the conversation I was just taking it, until she said this to me. ���..and a woman of your age should know better.� Ok, the guy sitting next to me takes one look at my face and steps backwards.

I was so mad that I don�t even remember what I said next.

I don�t know if you get this from my blog or not. But I live my life one way. I do not dwell on things, life is too short and I have been through too much shit. If you don�t like me, bite me. At �my age� I don�t have time for the bullshit.

I apologized to her, not because I was sorry for doing it, but for the fact that she was upset that I did do it. She took it as a personal affront and it appeared to me that she was more upset that I wasn�t more upset that she was upset. I felt like she wanted me to be totally ashamed of myself. Which I am not and refuse to be. So, if that upsets her, so be it.

A woman of my advanced years can�t afford to waste time with the bullshit.

Update!

Thought I would tie up a few loose ends before I go back to work.

The boy had to sit out half of his game Thursday night, he got kicked out of the last game for smokin� some kid in the head (who frankly deserved it) and he got kicked out of practice for more of the same. On a lighter note, the ass curd that called him a rat has been banned from the rinks. I saw him the other day and waved.

I got the obligatory �fuck off� letter in response to my application for the TM position. Big Surprise. I did manage to get �recognised� with a certificate for being appreciated by my co-workers. Big fuckin� hairy deal. It does not come with a pay raise, although it did come with a new zippy thing for my badge so it wasn�t a total waste of time.

I managed to get half my house clean, like Solomon Gundy, its still half dirty. (Does anyone else remember that bit from Sesame Street? Or am I dating myself?)

The cats still live, despite themselves.

My s.up.rn.ov.a addiction still rules me.

My nails have finally grown out and I can paint them again. Currently working on shamrocks for St. Paddy�s day.

My car payments are finally up with the bank, although I still owe my sister a couple of payments. Probably why it hasn�t completely self destructed yet. It usually happens when the bank payments are done, the car falls apart.

We were promised a huge storm Thursday, that we did not get. Now they say �oh wait, did we say Thursday, we meant Saturday� ya sure, I will believe it when I see it. �heavy snowfall warning� my ass! Now it is Sunday, and you guessed it, no storm.

Speaking of my ass, it still doesn�t hurt, can�t even tell where I got the shot. This rocks!

Kimmy is making me a booze soaked triple chocolate cheesecake for Sunday, mmmmmmmmmmmmm.

It�s Saturday and I am not even broke. That has got to be a record.

However, I am getting shack-whacky, and actually can�t wait to get back to work. Clearly I am a sick, sick woman.

Sweet Jesus! I've been shot!

Had a doctor's appointment for my birth control shot. I have been putting it off because I hate needles.

Yes, I know, I got a tattoo so there are no more excuses.

I have been wanting to get this thing for a long time. Every second chick at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� is taking it and they all rave. The number one reason? It gets rid of your period all together.

Wait, maybe you didn't hear me. It - gets - rid - of - your - period, period! Does the Pope know about this? Are all good Catholics out there aware of this?

Lets see, you can defy your religion every time you wake up and chose to take that little white pill or you can just sin once every 3 months and never have a period again. The Pope needs to get with this program.

Anyway, my appointment is at 11 and I wake up at 7:15am, WTF? I lay my head back down, just for a minute. HOLY SHIT, it's 11:34! Call up the doctor to apologize, "How soon can you get here?" Its just a shot, anyone in the office can do it. Hoping that the janitor will be on his lunch break, I hop in the car.

And hit every fucking light in town. Finally I make it, but of course there are no parking spaces, I have to park at the grocery store and walk up. "Hey Evel, do you mind if Ann gives you the shot? She's an RN?" Gus was indeed on his lunch break.

"Are you positive you are not pregnant?"

"Well, if I was I would be accompanied today by the Enquirer. And of course the Pope would need to be notified, being as it's His baby and all." I probably shouldn't make this woman giggle, she is holding a rather lethal looking needle that she is intending to plunge into me.

"You want it in the arm or the ass? The ass hurts less." Ok, apparently there was a question in there somewhere, albeit a stupid question. I drop my drawers and take one for the team.

A few minutes later I am on my way home, shot up with pro gestational steroid. If this works, then the Pope will just have to understand. One less mouth to feed at the very last supper.

Slacker!

I have not been blogging as I should. I know this, but I currently have a monkey on my back.

Before Christmas I had the satalite dish disconnected so I could save money. It wasn't too much of a hardship. I work nights so I don't really get to watch a lot of TV anyway. The boy wasn't too thrilled about it, but hey, if he wants TV, he can get a job.

Anyway, I was filling my time with music downloads on K.AZ.AA until someone put me on to a whole other trip. Its called s.up.r.no.va and I am completely hooked. It blows that other pirated music site out of the water. And here is the kicker. I can download my favorite TV shows and movies faster than you can read this post. I am addicted, I tell you! I may never get the dish back. I never miss a show, and I have more TV on my computer than I have time to watch.

Which brings me to the whole blog laziness. But I will get back to it, I promise. But right now? The West Wing awaits, and tomorrow is the last day of my vacation.

For better or worse.

I am soooo impatient. I took the bandage off. So, here it is in all its glory. I have to say that most of the redness you see was probably from the actual shaving of my legs. Not exactly a common thing. I usually do it once a year wether I need it or not.



I know the picture is crap, but you try taking a picture of your own left ankle and see how you make out.

I actually have a tattoo. Hmmm.

And we are officially branded!

Well, it's done now. I do have a couple of pics. This one is me, in progress.



We decided to go with gradient green outlined in black. And I just have one thing to say. Holy sweet mother of Christ, it hurt! Have to say that I would never make it as a biker chick.

This one is Kimmy, finished. The tattoo's are identical but hers is up and down and mine is side by side.



I will post one of mine, when it looks a little prettier. Right now it is red and angry looking.

Nova Scotia Tattoo.

Today is the day I get my tattoo. We always said we would get one before we were 40. That sounded fun when we were 20 and even 30. But in 2005 we will both be 40, so it's crunch time.

So, today is the day. Kimmy is getting some sort of zodiac symbol. I kid her that she was born too late and would have made the perfect flower child. She was born to be a hippie, just missed it by a couple of decades. Oh well, I thought about what I would get for a long time.

I think it was this time last year when I made a decision on what it would be. So, unless the guy shows me some awesome artwork at the eleventh hour, this is it.



I decided to go with the Chinese character thing, for the simple fact that when I am 80 I can tell the grandkids it means peace and love or some crap like that. Now all I have to do is keep the boy from marrying a Chinese chick that can call me on it.

Wish me luck!

Guess that is why they call it a roach?

YES! I am on vacation!

I wake up this morning with this song running through my head.

La cucaracha, la cucaracha
Ya no puede caminar
Porque no tiene, porque le falta
Marijuana que fumar.

Ok, so it was more like:

La cucaracha, la cucaracha
Da da, da da, da da, da.

Either way, a very festive tune, right? So I am sitting here at the computer with the song running through my head and decide I should know what the song means.

Some things are best left up to the imagination.

Did I post this already?

I am walking up to the drug store comming from the other direction is a old woman and her even older husband. It works out that the old woman goes first, the old man indicates that he wants me to go ahead of him. Sweet old man.

Picture it, Cicily, 1938........wait...that's another story.

Ok picture it. The drug store has an outer door, a sort of entry way and then the inner door.

The old lady goes in the first door, she holds it for me and I hold it for the old man, then we get to the inner door. Again she holds it for me and as I walk through I am looking back to hold it for the old man when I hear her say in a snotty voice, "Your welcome."

Without missing a beat, my blood is boiling and I look her straight in the eye, while incidently holding the door for her cripled old husband and say, "I usually wait till after the entire process, BITCH!"

Holy Shit! I actually called that old lady a bitch. I was pumped though, how rude! Aparently I wasn't fast enough with my thank you to suit her. I can only imagine what kind of hellish existance she has inflicted on that poor old man.

I meet up with the two of them at the cash register, she gives me a snotty look and the old man winks at me.

Your welcome.

Looking forward to spring thaw.

The boy is trying to break me. The last two mornings afternoons I have woken up to the boy still asleep on the sofa.

"The alarm never went off." Convenient.

Not only that but the house is a mess. Now when I say mess, I mean you would not believe it. Picture a frat house after a week-long kegger party. No exaggeration.

Last night I get home after working 14 hours. I pull into the driveway and it is orange. I bought a mega box of fruit drink pouches and he has squirted them all over the driveway. Great, why didn't I just burn the money on the way home.

I walk into the kitchen and the clothes that I put in the washer this morning are in a heap. The boy has done his laundry and mine gets to dry on the floor. Great, have to start that process all over again. On to the living room, there is a tv dinner plate upside down on the carpet, and as luck would have it, it had contained dipping sauce. I say 'had contained' because it is now part of the carpet along with the chocolate brownie thingy that accompanied it.

I look up and see the familiar orange drink running down the wall. Well it was obviously running at some point, but now it is dried into a sticky mess. When I ask him about this he says, �It wasn�t me.�

Ok, that shit worked for me because I had 5 brothers and sisters. I could use that argument because there was a chance that it may not have been me. But the boy doesn�t grasp this concept.

�There is only you and I living here! I know it wasn�t me, therefore it HAS to be you! Otherwise we have a serious security breach here. Who the FUCK is coming in my house and squirting juice on the wall?�

I turn around and walk back through the kitchen, I try not to look at the table because I know that it is covered with a sticky substance the kind that used to be something liquid but has since dried. Most likely pop. The boy spills it every single time and then walks away. As I walk through the kitchen I also notice that my feet are sticking, so he as managed to hit the floor a couple of times with something. Just let me get to the bathroom and splash some water on my face.

It was a nice thought, but the sink is full of water and something that resembles beefaroni, only the sauce has dissolved. The boy has dumped it in the bathroom sink because, after all, the kitchen sink is filled to capacity with dirty dishes. I understand the reasoning. Ok, so no water from the sink, try the tub. Well that would work if there wasn�t cat shit on the floor in front of me.

He is home for two days, he is not obviously cleaning the house, why can�t he at least let the FUCKING CATS OUT????

Short of killing the boy, I don�t know what to do. I have taken the guitars, and deleted his profile on the computer, I have changed the password so he can�t get on mine and severed the link for internet access to his. If this house is not clean when I get home from work tonight, I am selling everything he thinks he owns.

If this doesn�t work? I will have to wait for spring to dig a hole in the backyard.

And one of us is going in it.

Nothing to lose.

I have applied for a team manager position at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center�. I don't think I have a hope in hell of getting it, but I want to go through the process to see what it is like. And it will make it less stressful if I go through it a couple of times.

It's not that I think I can't do the job, or that I am not qualified, it's just that everyone and their fucking dog is applying, so the odds of me getting it are astronomical.

Anyway, it has been a while since I have gone through the interview process, and even though I did get an interview for the job I have now, I seemed to have blocked out parts of it.

Like the behavioral interview questions.

"What is your typical way of dealing with conflict? Give me an example." Punching them in the head at this point would not be acceptable, I'm thinking?

"Give me an example of a time when you had to make a split second decision. " Do I fall on my sword or just use my belt to hang myself.

"Give me an example of a time when something you tried to accomplish and failed. " Well, this isn't going exactly as planned.

"Tell me about a time when you missed an obvious solution to a problem. " Finally a question I have actual examples of. (a file cabinet full)

I feel like a fuckin' infomercial for the Popiel Pocket Evel. She slices, she dices, she leaps small children in a single bound!

I suppose all of this makes more sense than the old interview questions.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?" To which I reply,

"Your job looks pretty good."

Paraphrasing.

"Sorry, its obsolete."

"Ok, I have a newer version"

"Then its $300 to talk to tech, but when they find out its older they will hang up and you will lose the $300."

"WHAT? Last time I called it was $40?"

"Last time you called it was a consumer product. This product is professional and its $300."

"Ok, I have a problem with the consumer product."

"Ok, they are closed, call back in the morning."

"WHAT? I NEED HELP NOW."

"Professional tech support - $300."

"Then let's just say....."

"Lets not and say we did." ---CLICK---

We will get along fine, as soon as you realize I am God.

Still recovering from the Great Brain Fart Blizzard of 2004. And yes we are still under a few feet of snow and we are running out of places to put it.

Ok, begin rant.

Subtitled: Who teaches these people how to drive?

Men, they are fine with traffic signals, equally competent with the concept of four way stop, but knock out the traffic light and they lose brain cells right along with it.

To the idiot across from me at the broken traffic light: Flashing red lights do not mean that we need you to be the fucking traffic cop. We totally understand the concept of the four way stop. (which comes into effect when the traffic light is busted) But apparently you did not get the memo.

I know it is a radical concept, but here goes. You take turns. As soon as the person on my left goes his way, it then becomes my turn.

DO NOT WAVE ME THROUGH! There are other male of the species involved in this complicated manoeuvre, you will only confuse them.

FUCK OFF!

End rant

And now for something completely stupid.

As I am watching my car get burried


(taking pictures and everything so I can't even say I was suprised in the morning) I am also fully aware that the 15 or 20 feet directly behind my car remains completely bare. With just the last 5 feet or so blocked in.




So, why didn't I just move the fucking car? Total brain fart, that's why! Now I have to shovel the stupid car out, and hope that it will start.

And when I do, I have this to look forward to.

It doesn't show signs of stopping...

Ok, so it might be more than a bit.

I might have a bit of trouble getting the old girl to start. They haven't actually sent any snow plows out yet cuz it is still coming down. The snow down the entire length of our street (not just drifts) is about 3 feet deep. They are only clearing the main roads and highways. The kids are gonna love it. That is, until I make the boy shovel out the car.

Environment Canada Weather Forecast
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Pictou county
Issued at: 4.00 PM ast Thursday 19 February 2004
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Blizzard warning in effect.
Tonight..Snow at times heavy and blowing snow ending overnight then cloudy. Further amount 15 to 20 cm. Wind north 70 km/h gusting to 100. Low minus 8.
Friday..A mix of sun and cloud. Clearing in the afternoon. Occasional blowing snow. Wind northwest 40 km/h gusting to 60 diminishing to 30 in the afternoon. High minus 3.

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Saturday..Cloudy with 70 percent chance of flurries. Low minus 11. High minus 2.
Sunday..Snow or rain. Windy. Low minus 3. High zero.
Monday..Flurries. Windy. Low minus 5. High minus 3.
Normals for the period..Low minus 9. High minus 1.

They declared a state of emergency in Nova Scotia and PEI, although I don't see what the big deal is. Now if I had been out of smokes, that would have been catastrophic. But as it is, I am just enjoying my day off without anyone bothering me. Well, except for the boy, who is driving me out of my gourd wanting to go sledding at the height of the storm. My little Rhodes scholar.

The power didn't go off, it didn't start raining (which would be an absolute bitch), its just snow. The skiers are gonna love it. The kids are gonna love it. I am gonna love it. Cuz I love to drive in it. Not while its coming down, mind you, but after it has landed.

They practically closed down work, which is very rare. At the beginning of the day they were offering to pay for cabs if anyone needed a ride into work. Then they were calling them all and telling them to stay home. The didn't do any of that for Juan. Pretty much everything else was shut down, the malls, grocery stores as well as the rail car plant where most of the people who don't work at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� work.

Wouldn't you know, all this shit happens on my regular days off. I swear sometimes they check my schedule to see if it will in any way benefit me before they do things. Pizza day? Let's see, looks like Evel is off that day, its a go. Phones are down? We should get those back up before Evel gets here.

And now this, I knew Bill was powerful but I never thought he had the Lord in his corner. "Hey, Lord? Evel is off for two days, you know all that snow you have been saving? Go for it dude!"

Only Bill could call the Lord 'Dude' and get away with it.

Ok, so it's snowing a bit.

Can I have some of that 'magic' software?

"Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Customer Service Center� my name is ....blah blah blah..."

"I installed this software on my desktop and now I can' t find it."

Ok, we look and look and look. "I don't understand it, it should be there. Let's get that product ID and get you through to technical support."

He gives me an ID for a completely different product." Um, I thought you told me it was product A? But the ID if for product B, perhaps it was not installed correctly." I am getting ready to transfer him to tech support when he says,

"Well, this is my laptop, does that make a difference?"

OF COURSE NOT, DON'T BE REDICULOUS! IT'S MAGIC SOFTWARE! It can jump from one computer to another by the power of suggestion!

FUCK....ME! No wonder I had a headache all night long.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Good Morning Canada, over night tonight expect 50+ centimeters of snow!

You know what? I have just about had it with the snow. I am done.

Now, there are places that have winter all year long and places that have summer all year long. Why is there not a place on this fuckin' planet that has spring or fall all year long? That is where I want to live.

I don't like summer, way too hot and, of course, there are the bugs to contend with. Then there is winter, I do enjoy snow, for about 20 minutes on Christmas Eve, then it gets old really fast.

I suppose if I had my choice between summer and winter, winter would win out. It is much easier to get warm than it is to stay cool. And, did I mention the bugs? Not a bug person.

So, right now we are looking at 50+ centimeters overnight, one of the girls at work messeges me that maybe we can get the day off work. Ya, right? What do you think this is? Toronto? Here in Nova Scotia, we don't call in the military for every little thing.

Keep it to yourselves, girls!

I am always teasing Mr. Spilly Pants (aka The Coffee Guy) about his women. This guy always seems to have women hanging around him. I like to call them his Harem. I think it is because the man stinks of married. Most women can smell that shit off a guy and its like catnip. I love to tease him, cuz he gets as red as a beet when I do.

Anyway, I was teasing him the other day about it, saying that when he wears this particular shirt (a soft fabric) the chicks always come up to him and touch it. So I guess he tells the wife about this (Hey Buffy) and he shows up to work tonight, wearing the shirt with this pinned to it.

I laughed so hard that milk came out of my nose, and I don't even drink milk.

You rock, Buffy!

Natural Selection, there has got to be a better way.

We got through Friday the 13th and a full moon without too much problems at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center�. However, we did not fair as well for Valentine's Day.

Who calls with computer problems on Valentine's Day? Pretty much who you would expect. Just look up 'dumb as dirt' in the dictionary and you will see their picture.

After telling Dave I was NOT a technician, he procedes to tell me, in detail, his problem.

"Ok, Dave, what I need is the product ID, can I help you find it?"

"Uh, 0-0-3-e-l-q-r-..."

"No, its in the software..." I have no idea what that number is.

"Ok, but I am having trouble setting up this email and ..." he is expecting me to deliver technical support.

"Dave, as I said at the beginning of the call, I am not a technican. I have to determine what software you have and then we can discuss your support options, what I need is the product ID"

"0-0-3-e-l-q-r-..."

"No, Dave, that is not the ID, can I help you find it?"

"Oh, here's one x0008ef...." he cuts me off, why the hell do they call me if they think they know what they are doing. Don't try and fake it people, it doesn't work.

"No, Dave, let me help you, click on the start menu...", he finally finds the screen we are looking for.

"707-999....(he stops) but the problem I am having is getting my email to....."

"DAVE! In order to help you I have to have the ID, without it I can not send you through for technical support."

"Well what number do I call for technical support?" Holy sweet Jesus.

"This is the number but I have to get your information and determine if you have warranty support and send you on to technical."

"Ok, the trouble I am having is getting my email to....." Holy Shit!

What I want to say........"Ok Dave, what floor are you on? The fifth? Ok, open the window and throw yourself out. Thank you for calling Undisclosed Customer Service Center�.

What I do say, "Ok, NOT a technician, just read that ID to me and we can continue."

"Oh, I thought I was calling tech support, must have dialed wrong....." <--CLICK-->

Are you kidding me? He hung up.

I often wonder, how on God's green earth these people manage to get themselves a computer? I mean, they have to have some source of income right? How do they maintain that job?

I am sure at one point in their day they would have to cross the street and with natural selection, they should have been weeded out long ago.

So I probably shouldn't worry about Dave calling back. There is a bus out there with his name all over it.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Notorious or infamous...it�s a toss up!

I walk into the grocery store today to pay my power bill. This is Canada, we multi task here, it�s just way too fucking cold to be getting in and out of the car any more than we have to. Anyway, I walk into the store and one of the check-out girls looks at me and says, �Hey, Evel, heard you tore a strip off some guy at the rink the other night?�

�Your kidding.�

�Nope, it�s all over town. One of the mothers said, �some fool said something stupid in front of Evel and she went up one side of him and down the other.� I laughed till I choked, wish I had have been there. Call me next time?�

�I don�t plan these things.� Well I don�t!

I am the kind of person that does not keep things bottled up inside. I will not mull stuff over, I will not count to ten and then respond. I do not let things bother me. And if you talk about me behind my back, better make damn sure I never find out cuz I will call you on that shit.

For example. Barbie (not her real name, just what I call her, stick figure, blonde, you get the idea) decides she is going to sit with us one night at work, cuz we have �all the fun� as she puts it. She starts to set up her computer and I get a call. I am trying to get Mr. BigShot�s info and all I hear is her high pitched voice. I look at her and give the sign. I point to my ear and mouth the words, I AM ON THE PHONE! She proceeds to apologize, ����.loudly�����.to me!

I shoot her a look that would kill, all the while talking sweetly to Mr. BigShot with my finger in my other ear. She persists, �I didn�t know I was talking that loud, I will shut up now.� But she doesn�t, she has some sort of verbal diarrhea. Finally, I turn around and give her both fingers, TWICE! She shuts up, and I finish the call.

As soon as I hang up, I turn to her and point to my ear, �When I do this, it means SHUT THE HELL UP!� Then I give her the fingers again and say, �And when I do this?� (both fingers thrust into the air in front of her face) �It means you have 2 fucking seconds to shut your yap, before I back hand you, kapiche?�

I am a nice person, but if I don�t like where you got it, I can tell you where to put it.

I am Hockey Mom!

I am at a game the other night cheering the boy on. The other team (best in the league) begins with assuming they are going to beat the pants off our team. They usually do, so no stretch of the imagination there, they have twice as many kids on their team, not to mention 2 goalies. But at the end of the second period, they are 1-1. Now the team is starting to get frustrated and, with that, a little dirty. No biggy, the boys are tough, they can take it.

Everyone is cheering, but of course you can�t hear anything, but there is one guy. I can hear he is upset, but not what he is saying. At the end of the game, as they prepare to shake hands, (we lost 4-2) I see our coach turn to the stands and yell, �Games over buddy, knock it off.� WTF?

The coach tells me that this asshole was screaming at my son, saying he was a �Fucking Rat!� Do you believe that shit? My son is 13 years old and this guy was 45 if he was a day. And at that moment he comes strolling by me. Oh, I don�t think so.

�Excuse me? Who the fuck do you think you are?� He stops, stunned.

�That was my son you were screaming at. If you ever speak to him or any kid that way again, I will take you out into the parking lot and I guarantee you that you will not like it!� I am invading his personal space and he is clearly uncomfortable with it.

�How old are you anyway, asshole? Those kids are 12 and 13, and you were acting 5. How dare you call my son a fucking rat?�

�Well he is a rat.� he tries to walk away from me after that comment. I grab him by the front of his jacket, and am right up in his face now.

�Listen here, dick wad, you just said that in front of the President of our league, 10 hockey moms and 4 coaches. We will all be filing complaints with the Minor Hockey Association. You so much as sneeze at another game and you will never see your son play hockey again in this lifetime. You got me, asshole? And I would march you right in that dressing room by your balls (if you had any) to apologize right this minute, but I wouldn�t have the likes of you within 10 feet of my son. You can fuck off now, you are dismissed!�

The mother�s are all standing around open mouthed. When I turn around, I looked at them. �What?"

I�m a hockey mom, do not fuck with me or the boy!

Must have dialed the phone with his face.

�...its asking me for a qualifying product.�

�The version you have is an upgrade version, you have to have a previous version installed before it will work.�

�I have to buy two versions?�

�No, Sir, the version you bought was an upgrade, it upgrades a previous version. It is not a full version. That is why it was half the price of the full version. If you don't have a previous version I can instruct you on how to get your money back for it, and go out and buy a full version of the product.�

�How could you sell a product that was not a full version, I should be able to install this and have it work. I want to speak to tech support.�

Ok, maybe he doesn�t understand the Queen�s English.

�Certainly, Sir, but they won�t be able to help you without a previous version of the product. You can�t upgrade something you don�t have. Buying new tires for a car you don�t have, doesn�t make the car magically appear.� He didn't enjoy the analogy, he is screaming now.

�I can�t believe you people put out a product that doesn�t have the whole fucking program on it, that is ludicrous!� I can�t believe they sell tires that aren�t attached to new cars, but that's just me.

I start to talk over him, he is still ranting about the boss having more money than God, but that is just crazy, everyone knows God doesn't use money. Jeez! �Well we put out the upgrades so that you don�t have to buy the full version every time you want to be current with your software, and we sell them for half the price of a full version.�

�That�s crazy, you can�t put out software that is not complete!� Is this guy for real? Am I on camera? I stand up and have a look around.

�Well, Sir, I can give you instructions on how to get your money back for this product and you can go out and buy a full version, that would have the complete program on it.�

�But that one is twice the price of this one!� By George, I think he's got it!

�I explained why they are different prices, One is an upgrade, so basically we are giving you a break if you are a previous customer. If you do not have a previous version, you have to pay the full price.�

�You people are just trying to make me pay more money!� Ok, that did it.

I have a rule. If you say �you people� twice in a conversation, you will be mysteriously disconnected. Hardly matters, I don�t think this guy could actually work the software even if he somehow got it installed.

I am pretty sure you have to have opposable thumbs.

Five signs of the apocalypse?

The boys father taking him to a game.
The boys father picking him up and keeping him all day.
The boys father going sledding with three kids on crazy carpets.
The boys father cleaning off my car while he waited for said kids to use the bathroom.
The boys father coming into contact with me no less than five times today and each time having a civil conversation.

Don't go buying any green bananas.

Surfin' dude!

This made me laugh out loud. Head on over to Bad News Hughes for some life lessons.

My favorite is: "Dungeons and Dragons never goes away. Girls will still sense that shit 20 years later.

I am not fit for humanity, until I have had my coffee.

Went for coffee this morning (and, no, I did not drag an airplane behind me with my teeth) then stopped for cigarettes. The store was packed. Wasn't sure what was going on so I asked the girl in front of me what the deal was.

"Super 7 is 32.5 million tonight."

That explains it. So I am waiting my turn, and thinking that my coffee is getting cold (damn) the girl in front of me is telling me how she picks up the tickets for all the employees down at the bank and that they were doubling up this week because the jackpot was so high. I tell her that she has talked me into it, I would have to get a ticket also.

After she gets her tickets and leaves I tell the cashier, "Give me a Super 7." and I stand there trying to disguise an evil grin.

Am I a lottery player, you might ask? No, all I can think of is how pissed off she would be if she found out that the winning ticket was pulled right after she left.

And she will find out. She works at my bank.

Dude, I know exactly how you feel.

All that snow and not a single thing to smother with it.

Do not get between me and Tim!

I get up today and go for my morning coffee. I am a bear until I get it. Of course I don�t wait for the car to warm up. That would take precious time in which I could be already drinking my coffee. (Stay with me here.) I get to Tim Horton�s and am next to get to the drive-thru speaker, there is a line of cars behind me. I am sitting there, waiting impatiently, when I hear the sound of a car trying to start. Common enough at this time of year, in this part of the world.

I remember thinking, �sucks to be them�. I am still thinking this 5 minutes later when I realize the sound is coming from the truck in front of me. SHIT!

So, do I sit there in my now warm car and stew? Honk my horn? Shout obscenities? No, I get out of my car and walk up to the window of the truck. The woman inside is mortified. �I am so embarrassed�, she says.

�No worries, just put 'er in neutral, I�ll push you out of the way.�

I will what? Did that come out of my mouth? I didn't even stop to consider if I was physically able to push this half ton truck through the snow on a flat surface. Too late for thinking, I get behind the truck and start to push, this could get ridiculous real fast, especially with an audience. I have her pushed almost all the way when an old guy joins me. (a little late, and pretty much useless, the man was 80 if he was a day).

As I push her into the parking lot, the girls who are working the window are hanging out of it yelling, �Never send a man to do a woman�s job!� I guess they noticed the 5 or 6 strapping young men who did not get out of their cars to help.

I run back to my car thinking I might have to give the old guy CPR, he was breathing pretty hard. I get to the window and the girl says, �Its on the house, sweetie. God bless ya for helping that lady.� Sweet!

As I am driving away, I start to laugh. You see, I hadn't really thought of it as charitable. That truck was between me and my caffine. It could have been a semi and I would have pushed it uphill in a snowstorm for my morning coffee.

Finally!

The money just appeared in my account. So I guess he wasn't too pissed off at my comments.

Long way home.

"I would like to know exactly what is the problem with putting my money back in the account?"

"There's no problem, if it isn't there in a couple of hours, call back."

"Well it has been a week. Can you tell me what is involved, maybe I just don't understand the process. I mean, do you have to walk it from Toronto to Halifax? Do you have to count it out in pennies first, roll it out, then walk it from Toronto to Halifax? Cuz if that is the case, I totally understand the hold up. That's like 1800 kilometers, and on foot that could take a while."

So, I am trying not to piss this guy off. No, really, I am. But I am losing patience. I am just coming up on the two hour mark and I am getting very pissed off.

Does it show?

Some boys never grow up.

Today is the 'boy's birthday and although he is trying to be grown-up about it, he is not impressed. 24 hours have come and gone and "SUPRISE!" the bank has not returned my money. We have made plans for a celebration of movies and pizza Friday night and he is looking forward to it, but he is still not impressed.

I called the boys father the other day when all this began and had a screaming match explained to him that he would have to step the fuck up and take care of the birthday thing this year. Needless to say I had to dumb it upspell out the whole thing to him, this is what he wants, have a cake, feed him, that sort of thing. Oh and I am not stupid enough to leave it up to him. Once I finished tearing him an new one giving him instructions, I called his mother and told her what I expected the father to do. That was an evil thing to do, because his mother will nag him till he loses his mind. Ok, so I had considered that before I called her and to me, it was a plus.

Even though he was given instructions, I have told the boy not to expect much. I told the father what the boy wanted exactly, but I am almost positive he will just hand the cash over to the boy. Makes ya all warm and fuzzy inside, don't it?

I have to say that after I finished tearing him an new one talking to the boys father I was all hyped up, so I called him back and added a few things. "The boy has hockey today, be here at 4." Didn't give him a chance to respond. Here is the amazing thing, he actually showed up, drove the boy to hockey, entered the rink and stayed for the entire game.

Ok, you are not getting the significance. The boy has been in hockey for 4 years, this would be the father's second game. He always comes up with one excuse or another but this time I didn't give him a choice.

You see the boys father and I have been split up for 13 years, and he acts like I just punched him in the face yesterday. (which if he keeps it up can be arranged) Get over it already! He refuses to have a civil conversation with me and acts like he is 12. I am seriously not kidding, he has actuallys said the words, "I know you are, but what am I?" to me.

The other problem is that the boy, who is in fact, twelve wants me to call and ask his father this and that. I try to explain that when I call, the father says no right off the bat, just because it was me that asked. He somehow feels that to do whatever it was I asked him to do would somehow make me happy and that is not something he is prepared to do. I tell the boy, if you ask he will say yes, but the boy is 12, he doesn't get it.

So I let the boy listen in on one of our conversations, after which the boy asked, "Does he always talk to you that way?"

"Yes, boy, he is 12. Every single time I call, he talks to me that way, now do you get it?"

"Ya, I get it, but I still ain't talking to him." Great, that worked out well. At least now he knows why I hate to do it. Even if it doesn't make him want to deal with it himself. I am hoping that as the boy gets older he will start to get pissed off and demand from his father what he should have gotten all along. Start calling him on some of the shit he does.

Because after today, the boy will be the older of the two.

Better late than never. I guess.

Got through to the head asshole at the bank (you know the one, her majesty's bank?) Anyway, he says that they are 99% sure that they can reverse the transaction in 24-48 hours. WTF?(I have been saying that a lot lately)

"What do you mean, your not positive?"

"Well unless something unforeseen happens, I am positive it will be there in 24 hours, actually you better make it 48."

That sounds so encouraging, NOT!

Funny how it took 15 minutes to take it out of my account and 2 days to put it back.

I am definately in the wrong business.

Ok, I cheated.

I will admit, I redid the test until I got the results I wanted.


Congrats! You will marry Captian Jack Sparrow


who (from pirates of the caribbean) are you supposed to marry (for girls) clh
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