Silence is golden; duct tape is silver

Okay, I admit I haven't been updating this blog as often as I should have. When my site got busy and the responsibility heaped on, I felt crushed for time and started putting it off. I adapted to the pace and increased work, but putting off updating became habit. Not a good habit, mind you, but a habit nonetheless.

And the longer something gets put off, the harder it is to begin.

However, since a friend of mine has generously given me a year and one day to post something or else be deleted, I've got to throw a frikkin' bone here. So below, revealed openly for the first time, are the questions I ask everybody I meet in order to decide if I can really love them. If you've gone out with me, or know somebody who's gone out with me... they've been asked these in some form or another.

1. Let us assume you met a rudimentary magician. Let us assume he can do five simple tricks - he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, he can make a coin disappear, he can turn the ace of spades into the Joker card, and two others in a similar vein. These are his only tricks and he can't learn any more; he can only do these five. HOWEVER, it turns out he's doing these five tricks with real magic. It's not an illusion; he can actually conjure the bunny out of the ether and he can move the coin through space. He's legitimately magical, but extremely limited in scope and influence.

Would this person be more impressive than Albert Einstein?

2. Let us assume a fully grown, completely healthy Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that, for some reason, every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel-toed boots.

Would you attempt to do this?

3. Let us assume there are two boxes on a table. In one box, there is a relatively normal turtle; in the other, Adolf Hitler's skull. You have to select one of these itmes for your home. If you select the turtle, you can't give it away and you have to keep it alive for two years; if either of these parameters are not met, you will be fined $999 by the state. If you select Hitler's skull, you are required to display it in the semi-prominent location in your living room for the same amount of time, although you will be paid a stipend of $120 per month for doing so. Display of the skull must be apolitical.

Which option do you select?

4. Genetic engineers at Johns Hopkins University announce that they have developed a so-called "super gorilla." Though the animal cannot speak, it has a sign language lexicon of over twelve thousand words, and IQ of almost 85, and, most notably, a vague sense of self-awareness. Oddly, the creature (who weighs over three hundred kilograms/700 pounds) becomes fascinated by football. The gorilla aspires to play the game at its highest level and quickly develops the rudimentary skills of a defensive end. ESPN analyst Tom Jackson speculates that this gorilla would be "borderline unblockable" and would likely average six sacks a game (although Jackson concedes the beast might be susceptible to counters and misdirection plays). Meanwhile, the gorilla has made it clear he would never intentionally injure any opponent.

You are the commissioner of the NFL: would you allow this gorilla to sign with the Oakland Raiders?

5. You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate's collarbones with a crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: you must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear, for the rest of your life, sound as if it's being performed by the band Alice in Chains. When you hear Creedence Clearwater Revival on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it's being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound like it's being covered by Alice in Chains. When you hear a commercial jungle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way to you).

Would you swallow the pill?

6. At long last, someone invents "the dream VCR." This machine allows you to tape an entire evening's worth of your own dreams, which you can then watch at your leisure. However, the inventor of the dream VCR will only allow you to use this device if you agree to a strange caveat: when you watch your dreams, you must do so with your family and your closest friends in the same room. They get to watch your dreams along with you. And if you don't agree to this, you can't use the dream VCR.

Would you still do this?

7. Defying all expectation, a group of Scottish marine biologists capture a live Loch Ness monster. In an almost unbelievable coincidence, a bear hunter in the Pacific Northwest shoots a sasquatch in the thigh, thereby allowing zoologists to take the furry monster into captivity. These events happen on the same afternoon. That evening, the US president announces he may have thyroid cancer and will undergo a biopsy later that week.

You are the front page editor of The New York Times: what do you play as the biggest story?

8. You meet the perfect person. Romantically, this person is ideal: you find them physically attractive, intellectually stimulating, consistently funny, and deeply compassionate. However, they have one quirk: this individual is obsessed with Jim Henson's gothic puppet fantasy The Dark Crystal. Beyond watching it on dvd at least once a month, he/she peppers casual conversaion with Dark Crystal references, uses Dark Crystal analogies to explain everyday events, and occasionally likes to talk intensely about the film's "deeper philosophy".

Would this be enough to stop you from marrying this individual?

9. A novel titled Interior Mirror is released to mammoth commercial success (despite middling reviews). However, a curious social trend emerges: though no one can prove a direct scientific link, it appears that almost thirty percent of the people who read this book immediately become homosexual. Many of these newfound homosexuals credit the book for helping them reach this conclusion about their orientation, despite the fact that Interior Mirror is ostensibly a crime novel with no homoerotic content (and was written by a straight man).

Would this phenomenon increase (or decrease) the likelihood of you reading this book?

10. This is the opening line of Jay McInerney's Bright Lights, Big City: "You are not the kind of guy who would be in a place like this at this time of the morning." Think about that line in the context of the novel (assuming you`ve read it, or seen the movie). Now go to your mp3 collection, go to the Heart folder and listen to the opening riff to "Barracuda."


Which of these two introductions is a higher form of art?

11. You are watching a movie in a crowded theatre. Though the plot is mediocre, you find yourself dazzled by the special effects. But with twenty minutes left in the film, you are struck with an undeniable feeling of doom: you are suddenly certain your mother has just died. There is no logical reason for this to be true, but you are certain of it. You are overtaken with the irrational metaphysical sense that, somewhere, your mom has just perished. But this is only an intuitive, amorphous feeling; these is no evidence for this, and your mother has not been ill.

Would you immediately exit the theatre, or would you finish watching the movie?

12. You meet a wizard in downtown Chicago. The wizard tells you he can make you more attractive if you pay him money. When you ask how this process works, the wizard points to a random person on the street. You look at this random stranger. The wizard says, "I will now make them a dollar more attractive." He waves his magic wand. Ostensibly, this person does not change at all. As far as you can see, nothing is different. But, somehow, this person is suddenly a little more appealing. The tangible difference is invisible to the naked eye, but you can't deny that this person is vaguely sexier. This wizard has a weird rule though - you can only pay him once. You can't keep giving him money until you're satisfied. You can only pay him one lump sum up front.

How much cash do you give the wizard?

13. Every person you have ever slept with is invited to a banquet where you are the guest of honour. No one will be in attendance except you, the collection of your former lovers, and the catering service. After the meal, you are asked to give a fifteen minute speech to the assembly.

What do you talk about?

14. For reasons that cannot be explained, cats can suddenly read at a twelfth grade level. They can't talk and they can't write, but they can read silently and understand the text. Many cats love this new skill, because they now have something to do all day while they lay around the house. However, a few cats become depressed because reading forces them to realize the limitations of their existence (not to mention the utter frustration of being unable to express themselves).

This being the case, do you think the average cat would enjoy Garfield, or would cats find this cartoon to be an insulting caricature?

15. You have a brain tumour. Though there is no discomfort at the moment, this tumour would unquestionably kill you in six months. However, your life can (and will) be saved by an operation. The only downside is that there will be a brutal incision to your frontal lobe. After the surgery, you will be significantly less intelligent. You will still be a fully functioning adult, but you will be less logical, you will have a terrible memory, and you will have little ability to understand complex concepts or difficult ideas. The surgery is in two weeks.

How do you spend the next fourteen days?

16. Someone builds an optical portal that allows you to see a vision of your own life in the future (it's essentially a crystal ball that shows a randomly selected image of what your life will be like in twenty years). You can only see into this portal for thirty seconds. When you finally peer into the crystal, you see yourself in a living room, two decades older that you are today. You are watching a Canadian football game, and you are extremely happy. You are wearing a CFL jersey. Your chair is surrounded by books and magazines that promote the Canadian Football League, and there are CFL pennants covering your walls. You are alone in the room, but you are gleefully muttering about historical moments in Canadian football history. It becomes clear that, for some unknown reason, you have become obsessed with Canadian football.. And this future is static and absolute; no matter what you do, this future will happen. The optical portal is never wrong. This destiny cannot be changed.

The next day you are flipping through television channels and randomly come across a pre-season CFL game between the Toronto Argonauts and the Saskatchewan Roughriders. Knowing your inevitable future, do you now watch it?

17. You are sitting in an empty bar (in a town you've never before visited) drinking Bacardi with a soft-spoken acquaintance you barely know. After an hour, a third individual walks into the tavern and sits by himself, and you ask your acquaintance who the new man is. "Be careful of that guy," you are told. "He is a man with a past." A few minutes later, a fourth person enters the bar - he also sits alone. You ask your acquaintance who this new individual is. "Be careful of that guy too," he says. "He is a man with no past."

Which of these two people do you trust less?

18. You have won a prize. The prize has two options, and you can choose either (but not both). The first option is a year in Europe with a monthly stipend of $2000. The second option is ten minutes on the moon.

Which option do you select?

19. Your best friend is taking a nap on the floor of your living room. Suddenly, you are faced with a bizarre existential problem: this friend is going to die unless you kick them (as hard as you can) in the rib cage. If you don't kick them while they slumber, they will never wake up. However, you can never explain this to your friend. If you later inform them that you did this to save their life, they will also die from that. So you have to kick a sleeping friend in the ribs, and you can't tell them why.

Since you cannot tell your friend the truth, what excuse will you fabricate to explain this (seemingly inexplicable) attack?

20. For whatever reason, two unauthorized movies are made about your life. The first is an independently released documentary, primarily composed of interviews with people who know you and bootleg footage from your actual life. Critics are describing the documentary as "brutally honest and relentlessly fair." Meanwhile, Columbia Tri-Star has produced a big-budget biopic of your life, casting major Hollywood stars as you and all your acquaintances; though the movie is based on actual events, screenwriters have taken some liberties with the facts. Critics are split on the artistic merits of this fictionalized account, but audiences love it.

Which film would you be most interested in seeing?

21. Imagine you could go back to the age of five and relive the rest of your life, knowing everything that you know now. You will re-experience your entire adolescence with both the cognitive ability of an adult and the memories of everything you've learned from having lived your life previously.

Would you lose your virginity earlier or later than you did the first time around (and by how many years)?

22. You work in an office. Generally, you are popular with your coworkers. However, you discover that there are currently two rumours circulating in the office gossip mill, and both involve you. The first rumour is that you got drunk at the office holiday party and had sex with one of your married coworkers. This rumour is completely true, but most people don't believe it. The second rumour is that you have been stealing hundreds of dollars of office supplies (and then selling them to cover a gambling debt). This rumour is completely false, but virtually everyone assumes it is factual.

Which of these rumours is most troubling to you?

23. Consider this possibility:

a. Think about deceased TV star John Ritter.
b. Now, pretend Ritter had never become famous. Pretend he was never affected by the trappings of fame, and try to imagine what his personality would have been like.
c. Now, imagine that this person - the unfamous John Ritter - is a character in a situation comedy.
d. Now, you are also a character in this sitcom, and the unfamous John Ritter character is your sitcom father.
e. However, this sitcom is actually your real life. In other words, you are living inside a sitcom: everything about your life is a construction, featuring the unfamous John Ritter playing himself (in the role of your TV father). But this is not a sitcom. This is your real life.

How would you feel about this?

Ah, are some of these situations sounding a bit familiar? Does the style of questioning ring a bell?

No, I'm not going to tell you the "right" answers. I do, however, own a copy of The Dark Crystal.

Big pimpin'

Two weeks now since my sleepy little site has gone crazy, security-wise. The guy who's calling for extra security contradicts himself for what he wants frequently, sometimes in the same breath.

I now have, assuming they don't glue any more people in, just under twenty people under me. Some are okay, some aren't. Some are just uncertain, some are lazy.

We did the bulk of the move at the site on Friday and Saturday. Today (Monday) will be the first day the employees will have been in the new area. Unfortunately, one of the two people I have on site is an idiot.

Here's the thing about a sitter shift - you don't move. Usually sitter shifts refer to watching a hospital patient, someone at risk, or a vulnerable point. You don't get a break, you don't get to go to the bathroom, you don't get to leave.

Sound harsh? Maybe.

I've done a couple of suicide watches. You're there to make sure they either don't try, or in case they do manage it to call for help and keep them alive as long as possible.

Think it's appropriate to pop outside for a five minute smoke during something like that?

If your two year old was playing in the backyard near the pool, would you just go inside and start watching tv for a half hour "lunch break"? If so, you're a fool.

While not all sitter shifts are as important, that's the idea behind them. If you really need to leave (bathroom, smoke, gaping wound...) you get someone to cover for you.

But I've got a guy there during working hours (0800-1600) who not only leaves to go get tea, or to stretch his legs (pace, you idiot!), he won't even use the bathroom that's about two meters away from his post. He wanders 100 meters away, through a big chunk of the building, to go to another one.

He feels it's unreasonable to make him stay in one place, and although I was patient the first few times explaining that this is how it works, that this is what the client wants, and that I don't want to keep getting phonecalls at home telling me he's wandering around, I've lost my patience.

He agrees to do what I want every time we speak, but keeps on doing it and then says I'm being unreasonable when I call him on it.

Also, he spends at least a quarter of every hour in the bathroom. He says it's okay because he has some gastro-intestinal issues. I tell him that if he's medically unfit to do the job, he'll have to go elsewhere (i.e. another site) because I need someone who can do the job. This problem isn't in his file, incidentally. It should be.

He claims that nobody could do it, and don't I just love it when a guy who's done security for all of two months to tell me what can and can't be done, I mention myself at the site when the glass fell in. Lots of others manage it, so just because he can't (or won't) doesn't mean it can't be done, or that it doesn't need to be done.

I've got a low priority request in for him to be pulled off. About the only thing he's got going for him is that he speaks fairly good english. Special guards are often from the bottom of the heap, so that's why it's low priority. Although one more complaint and I'll just start pulling doubles and do his shift myself.

There are lots of little stories to relate, but I'm cramping for time at the moment so I'll just give you one that surprised me:

On Friday, I had even more guards than usual (client request for move). One of them was a young woman from Hong Kong. I planted her and another guy at doors we'd propped open, and checked back on them frequently.

As is usual for me, I checked their security licenses and noted down the proper spelling of their names, their phone numbers, and their license numbers (so I can make sure they're paid). Towards the end of the night, one of the relief guards came in nearly seventy five minutes early. I told the on-site special guards that one of them could go home early with eight hours pay (ah, the joys of controlling my own budget, recently swelled as it is) but that they'd have to decided between them which it would be.

The female went for it, because her shift would have ended at 0000 and she had to work another site at 0800. She asked if I could get her a cab, so I did. When it showed, I took her out to it and she told me how much she liked the site, although she'd have preferred if she could have walked around and seen more of it.

I told her that she could always tell Operations that, and they could ask me if I wanted her if a regular position opened up. She seemed to like that.

After seeing her off, I installed the relief guard into his position and started rolling around the site as usual when I received a phone call. It was the female guard, she'd forgotten her umbrella and could I let her in to get it?

Sure. So I did and took her back out to her cab. As she was getting in, she said "You have my number, right?"

I told her I did, assuming that she meant she'd want me to call if there was an opening. But that's not what she said.

"Good. Then maybe we can go out sometime."

And then she got in the cab and left me standing in the rain thinking "What the fuck?!"

Must be my soap. ;)

Two fists, beyotch!

Hee! Some twenty-two months ago, I had my first real altercation with Crazy Cougar Receptionist.

But last night, I got a bit of petty vindication. w00t!

See, last time she called Evil Property Manager up and tried to get him to pressure the client to get rid of me. But this time all the details were observed, and she got served. It went something like this:

Ring. (honestly, morel ike deedeeDOOdoo, but meh)

Rimmy: "Security, Rimmy speaking."

Other Guy: "Hi Rimmy, it's (guy from the bike patrol security company, employed by Evil Property Manager)."

Rimmy: "What can I do for you?"

Other Guy: "Do you have any employees on site? Because there's a car parked in the fire lane out front and if it's one of yours I won't have it towed. It's a (describes car)."

Whee! It's CCR's!

Rimmy: "Yes, it's one of my employees. Tell you what, since it's in your area, why don't I let you in to talk to her. You can ask her to move it, and feel free to be as rude as you like."

Other Guy: "Well, I don't know that I'll need to be rude..."

Rimmy: "Wait until you meet her. I'll come get you at the front."

Other Guy: "Okay then."

So I go and retrieve him and take him to where CCR has come back to do some of her personal Christmas nonsense. I crack the door open, and then announce "Here you go."

Normally she'd ignore me, but she looked up to see who it was and saw someone she didn't know, dressed as security.

CCR: "Hello."

Other Guy: "Hi there. I was wondering if that was your car parked out in front there?"

Her eyes tighten a bit. She remembers too. She darts a quick glance to me. I look as innocuous as possible.

CCR: "Yes?"

Other Guy: "Well, you're parked in a fire lane. Could I get you to move it out of there please?"

CCR: "You're (my company's name). You can't do anything about my car."

Bike patrol guy visibly stiffens. Her attitude and body language are openly hostile, and he wasn't expecting that. He's now realizing why I said he could be as rude as he wants.

Other Guy: "No, actually I'm the landlord's security," jerking a thumb at the patch on his shoulder, "and I have every right to ask you to move your car."

CCR looks straight ahead at her computer, visibly pissed off at being, to her, outmaneuvered. She ignores him for several seconds, while he's getting irritated at the delay. Finally she mutters "(Evil Property Management Company) is going to hear about this tomorrow."

As she starts to get up, I say "Okay" and bring the bike patrol guy outside with me. She doesn't follow very quickly, so we have a bit of time to talk outside.

Other Guy: "What a fucking bitch! Is this the one you told me about that you didn't like?"

Rimmy: "Yup. Any ideas of why?"

Other Guy: "It was all I could do not to make her cry."

Rimmy: "That would have been messy - she wears a lot of foundation and eyeliner."

At this point she comes out and gets into her car. We're about at the rear bumper and the drive is a curve. She starts to back up and manages to chuck the curb rather abruptly. We both turn to look, and her windshield is even with us. She looks pissed and mortified that she's shown such a lack of skill right in front of her two tormentors, so she switches into drive and tried to drive forward at high speed.

Unfortunately, her car is a bit lacking in acceleration so while it makes a lot of noise, she doesn't really move that fast. Nice work, loser!

I have to tell you, I was high on that for the rest of the night. Petty, but so perfect because she can't do bugger all about it! Insert much glee.

Remembrance Day ...

... is a bit stupid. I realized I wasn't the only one who thought that the other day. Canada is the only place that makes a big deal about wearing the poppies, and you definitely get some comments (or at least some looks) if you're not wearing one.

I never wear one.

Not because I'm against the idea of remembering people who killed or aided in the killing of other people (sorry, I mean "people who fought for our freedom"), but because it's ostentatious. It's like the people who apparently would tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree.

Also, I'm pretty sure I had (long time ago, they're dead) relatives who were the ones shooting back at Canadians, so who am I remembering, anyway?

But people get so uppity about it, especially those who've never been shot at or had their "freedoms threatened". I even have one person in mind who would get choked up with emotion thinking of her grandfather who was briefly captured by Nazis back in the day. Not for long, mind you, but he was a prisoner for a little while. He seemed to be pretty okay with it, but she'd get all upset on his behalf. That's the kind of misplaced emotion I'm talking about.

Not that I think it wasn't genuine, that she was getting upset. Just that it seemed an inappropriate response. People often think symbols and the things they symbolize are interchangable, and they're just not.

I'll leave the symbols to the symbol-minded.

Plus, my midnight special guard didn't show up last night so I pulled a double. I may be a bit cranky. That said, here's the obigatory moment to ponder this November eleven:

The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner

by Randall Jarrell

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from it's dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

"A ball turret was a Plexiglas sphere set into the bell of a B-17 or B-24, and inhabited by two .50 caliber machine-guns and one man, a short small man. When this gunner tracked with his machine guns a fighter attacking his bomber from below, he revolved with the turret; hunched upside-down in his little sphere, he looked like the foetus in the womb. The fighters which attacked him were armed with cannon firing explosive shells. The hose was a steam hose." -- Jarrell's note.

Here's an idear...

If you're going to pursue a life of crime... try to remember that some of the things you've done voluntarily can lead to you being identified slightly easier...















































































Twits.

God is an atheist - He doesn't believe in me.

Had a meeting last night with Cookie Monster, who if you'll recall is the guy I answer to at my security company who doesn't generally give a shit about anything at my site. I was pretty sure that the meeting would simply be that we're putting an additional shift on, so I wasn't really expecting much of import from the meeting.

However, it would appear that we're more than doubling my complement of guards, going up to twelve. Overnight I've just become a site of note, simply from the shift count. My budget is probably going to swell to something on the order of a quarter million dollars annually, although I doubt we'll keep this level for that long. And dangled in front of me was taking over the entire complex (we don't have that yet - that's the bike patrol guys of which so many of my blogs have concerned) and putting that underneath me.

I was so surprised at the turn of events, that in the mix of logistics I was trying to compose I completely forgot to get myself a raise out of the deal. Ah well, there's time for that I suppose.

I'm going to be heartily amused if we're still out of there when I expected us to be - in about four months. ULTIMATE COSMIC POWER... itty bitty job duration.

Seacrest out.

If only I could do the little boy voice that this needs:

The Best Spaceship EVER!
Would fly out in space.
It would have fins like a shark,
And a clown for a face.

Its wings have propellers,
Its sails catch the breeze.
It runs on marshmellows,
And its wheels are skis.

The pilot is brave,
He drinks, like my dad.
He rarely takes showers,
And he yells when he's mad.

"Rimmy! What the hell's wrong with this damn thing? The steering wheel's a frikkin PRETZEL, damn it! Whoa, shit!"

Then it plunges straight into the sun,
And that bastard was never heard from again.

"What?! Rimmy! Rimmy, I'm breaking up! Oh my God, it's a sauna in here! What smells like burnt marshmellows? Dear God! I'm sorry for everything I've ever (hiss crackle)"

And that's the best spaceship EVER!

The crows on site are crazy. As you may remember from previous posts, there are an estimated one hundred thousand of them in the area. But now they spend a good chunk of the night swirling around the buildings, looking very intimidating with their numbers and erratic behavior.

Mind you, they did this last year too. And the year before. They just started doing it a little later.

Now instead of going to roost they cover, and I mean cover the yards and sidewalks in front of all the buildings. And by cover, I mean "completely obscure with copious quantity of bird". It's fun walking home through that, I'll tell you. No suspicious white splotches on my pants so far (ha!), but it's just a matter of time.

On Friday, coming home on the train, there was a bit of a fight. A couple of big drunk young guys hopped on the train about half a dozen stops from mine. No problem.

Next stop, another couple of guys hopped on the train. Also no problem.

Halfway to the next stop, there was some yelling, so I looked up from my book. The two pairs were wrestling with each other. I assumed they knew each other, right up until I saw the fist-to-mouth punching that was going on.

One guy was down on the ground, and was being kicked repeatedly in the head. So much so that he was kicked halfway across the train until his head was under my seat. Sigh.

The kicker came up looking to deliver more, and our eyes met. "Don't make me get involved." was all I said. He could have creamed me, for the record.

He turned and went to devote his attentions to the other guy. I hit the yellow silent alarm, and the guy under my seat rolls out and, still cradling his head, wanders back into the fray to be hit a bunch more. Idiot.

Next stop, they're all thrown off and I ride home in relative peace. Whoo.

Speaking of the weekend, everybody went out to their Halloween events. I thought this year women were going for a sort of fairy/cirque de solei look. So what's with all the crackwhore costumes? I'll never follow shifting fashions.

I didn't spend the weekend doing Halloween stuff, though. I played the hell out of my new game, Guild Wars Nightfall. And I probably had a better time than you did. Free imaginary hats, for the win!

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go float a Milky Way.

So I was playing a little Guild Wars with winamp randomly running through my extensive playlist, when a great little tune came on. But for some reason, I couldn't immediately identify it. That's because it doesn't have a name, but I know one of the guys that whipped it up. Click here if you want to hear it. It fit tres bon with what I was doing. :)

Speaking of what else I was doing in Guild Wars this weekend, I blew ninety thousand to raise the level of one of my titles (and didn't succeed). I'm an idiot. Good thing it's only pretend. :P

I worked on Saturday, because one of my guards took it off and nobody else wanted the shift. No biggie.

But on the way, looking down from the SkyTrain on the highway, I saw a hand-painted sign: "Giant Prawns $10!"

A kilometer or two later, there was "Shrimp $12", followed by "Crab $12" and various other signs. I was expecting to see a low-end seafood place that had just opened up, but instead I saw a beat-up van with a hand-painted sign on the side parked beside the road, with the driver throwing a look out the window periodically to see if any customers had pulled up.

So my question is... who in the hell would buy fish out of the back of a van, when we live in a port city that's awash in seafood?!

Got a marked bill back in change from my chai. Had a website saying "Track this bill!". The bill has had a boring life. What a silly concept.

Saw The Departed on Sunday, and it was good. I also discovered that I can't drink a litre of soup immediately before a movie, and then drink a liter of Sprite during the movie without some discomfort.

I didn't leave, but I did make sure that I was the first out of the gate when the movie was done. ;)

Incidentally, when I was getting the aforementioned Sprite, there was a girl in line in front of me that was so skinny, her shoulderblades made some sort of reverse cleavage in her shirt. It was... eye-catching.

She also had eyes that were partly on the outward curve of her face. I noticed this from directly behind her. Use your imagination.

On the way home, right before our station, the train jolted and then bounced and skidded with the brakes activating appropriately. I've got fairly good balance, but all I could think of was "What's this train trying to do, a fucking wheelie?"

It wasn't, but they took it out of service anyway. At our station. Nice.

Random

Recently, to give myself more floorspace, I removed the three-quarters semicircle of Perrier bottles around my command chair. Two hundred and four of them, to be precise.

At 750 ml per, that's a quick 153 litres of lemon Perrier I downed. Not all in one sitting, of course. I'm hardly Bullet Tooth Tony, after all.

Heading to the local Safeway to restock, I picked up eight bottles and some Ribena. At the counter, the checker picked up the Ribena and asked me "Is this for you?"

Wondering who she thought it was for, I said "Yes."

"And do you mix it with this Perrier?"

A bit nosy, isn't it? "Yes."

"That's very European" says she, and doesn't speak for the rest of the transaction, including not telling me what my total is. Weirdo.

Filipina Colada is her usual self, touching me more than she actually has to. Got me to rub her shoulders and neck the other day by dint of subtly putting my hands there and saying "I'm SO sore!" Sneaky.

Somehow contraception came up, and she didn't know that you could avoid having a period at all by only using the three weeks worth of birth control pills, and then going to the next ring. She also, as it turns out, thought that the earlier you being menstrating the sooner you need to have kids, since you run out of eggs sooner. She claims they taught her that in nurse school. Interesting.

Last week, as part of the preparations for installing a new elevator, a crew came in to image the area before doing some coring. I was told that nobody should come within fifty feet of the emitter. Fair enough.

Of course, nobody had told the cleaners, so I went around and told them that they wouldn't be able to get back into their room for the rest of the night. Most of them were okay with that, since I gave them another room to use.

But the couple (married) that do the bathrooms were another matter. I caught them on the third floor, and explained it to them. Since none of the cleaners has english as a first language, and "radiation" isn't the easiest thing to explain with hand gestures, I finally hit upon the idea of describing it like when a dentist takes pictures of your teeth, only strong enough to penetrate concrete.

The husband was okay with it, but the wife got a frightened look on her face. I started to reassure her, but she was backing away saying "Please, I can't. I'm a mother. It might be okay for my husband, but I have two children. Please." and she threw down her mop and ran away out of the building. Clearly I need to work on my speaking mannerisms.

Q-tip has heard from DiceGimp!

DiceGimp, if you'll remember, was "promoted" (removed) from the site for (various accumulated offenses) eating garbage in his uniform. But he called up Q-tip nearly in tears, because he's so frustrated.

It seems that on his new site, there's a supervisor. This guy has the nerve to tell DiceGimp what to do!

The supervisor also reviews what his guards actually do. They have to use a pipe system (they electronically tag where they've been and when), so DiceGimp can't just say he's patrolled - the record demonstrates it. And it's reviewed by said supervisor. DiceGimp is used to sleeping and doing nothing, but can't do that now.

And the supervisor rides him for being a useless guard (which is true), especially since the day after his training, his first shift alone, he was doing nothing and the place got broken into for the first time in two years.

DiceGimp wants to come back to the old site, but Q-tip has gleefully informed him that there's no room at the inn. ;)

Another trip to Safeway and they were out of the icecream I dig, so I picked up some Haagen Dazs as a substitute. When I got to the counter, the checker started in with "Haagen Dazs! Clearly you're a man of distiction!"

I laughed and said it was a substitute, but she went on about ice cream for a bit. A bit flirty, but that's okay.

The flirting kept on, and as I was starting to go she said "So I guess you're off work and heading home to eat that ice cream, eh?"

"Yup."

"What a coincidence, I'm off work too and ready to go." (significant look my way)

Oh. Oh...

Nah. "Have fun!"

She was cute enough, but I think she only wanted my icecream.

Or maybe she smelled the soap I'm using. Sure, I pay something like seven bucks per hundred milligrams and it's mildly explosive, but it's pretty nice soap. Pure frikkin girlbait!

Enjoy:

Star Trek Cribs:

Sins and virtues

Format inspired by this entry by Fictional Correspondant.

Luxuria - Filipina Colada continues to flirt with increased amounts of touching, whenever she happens to show up at the site with her parents. When you're bored and in a job you're not overly fond of, that can be a welcome diversion/distraction. Plus, how can you not dig somebody who says, upon hearing of someone younger than her who got pregnant, "That's like a punch to my endomitrium"? That's worth breaking Commandment #7 right there! Possible example: perhaps I can arrange a swap with Fictional Correspondant, trading Filipina Colada for Gypsy, because if I don't I might end up covering her in black pepper and sneezing all over her.

Virtus - Of course, I'm doing nothing about it. Partly because I'm not too interested, but it's possible I'd give her a whirl if her parents hadn't initiated the whole thing. Plus, I suspect she's just being friendly with what's around. Possible example: even when I look like Shiva from the extra pair of arms draped around me, I don't go for the obvious return move.

Gula - I spend too much time online, but more in line with the classical idea of gula, I've discovered the joys of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream. I used to be dubious about paying triple for less volume, but I have to admit that's a goddamn tasty ice cream. Possible example: hand-packed ice cream. Who knew?

Frenum - Of course, I usually only buy a 500ml container on the Friday or Saturday, and that does me for the week. 1040 calories for the whole shebang (I like that word), for those of you that count such things. Possible example: just because I want something doesn't mean I'll go and get it, even if it's well within my means. I tend to think there's some value in experiencing the difference between wanting something and reaching for it.

Avaritia - Other than keeping my time all to myself, I can't self-identify anything for this at the moment. I'm sure others would disagree. There's a hard drive and cpu I wouldn't mind picking up, but I can wait. Not because I can't afford it, but mostly because I don't particularly need either of them. Possible example: having only myself in my life, it's hard not to do things than don't have me as the focus. Shrug.

Liberalitas - What can I say? If someone needs something and I have it, that's that. It doesn't come up very often really. Possible example: I gave a bag of about eight bagels to a beggar the other week.

Acedia - This one has me - I'm a lazy bugger. Haven't delivered a slim IDE cable that should have been handed off months ago, I don't call people, I don't exercise as frequently as I should, I don't spend as much time learning as I used to. Possible example: I haven't done a single physics calculation in just under two years. TWO YEARS! I used to love that shit! And I'll get rusty if I don't. And I need to be more diligent about skipping rope.

Industria - Even though I know the job is ending, and that my own company doesn't really care about the site, I keep plugging away at it as diligently as I can. This is probably a misplaced loyalty, but I prefer to think of it as giving the client what they're paying us all those thousands of dollars each month for. Possible example: you don't take a day off work unless you physically can't make it in. Did I say "you"? I meant "I".

Ira - Yeah, I get mad. I get mad at people doing the things that people do out of pure selfishness, or for short term (apparent) gain at the sacrifice of the long term benefit. I get mad that my guards won't do what I think is an incredibly simple list of things to do, at possibly the softest site since Pillow Patrol at the Cotton Batten warehouse. Not to mention the sort of person who says "We need such-and-such", when it's completely clear that they simply want it. Possible example: whenever I hear the latest thing that one of my guards has done, I call somebody local (not connected to the site) and bitch about it. This blows off some steam, but I doubt anybody besides me gives a whoopity whoop. Like the guy I just removed from the site, who at his worst managed to get three hits during his entire shift, as opposed to the 50+ (non elevator) that I require. How lazy can you get? Oh, by sleeping? Yeah, he does that too.

Patientia - When I get reamed for the actions of my guards, I more or less take it stolidly. Usually with nothing more than "I'll talk to him about it" coming from me. If they ask me questions, I usually agree with what they're saying (not being a yes-man, they're just right) but I don't rip on my guards or company to the client. And when I deal with them later, I've usually played all the "making them cry" scenes in my head to get them out of the way, so I'm reasonable (but firm) when I do finally deal with them. There are excuses, there are denials, there is hostility. But I'm well seasoned to it at this point, so I can simply take it and move on.

Invidia - Not so much, really. I have to admit though, that I sometimes wish when I see certain people that I'd rolled out of the cart before I ended up where I am; job-wise, education-wise, travel-wise, hair-wise. Incidentally, you now know where the makers of the GeForce got their name from. ;)

Humanitas - I feel for those who have been thoughtlessly trod over by people who don't even realize it, and wouldn't care if they did. The countless small (and sometimes not so small) slights and denials and such that make life harder than it needs to be for many. This doesn't include you not getting the colour of the SUV you wanted slitch, when you already had more than you needed. Possible example: a guard physically near me (site-wise) called up Operations on the radio the other day with (paraphrased) "Operations, call the police!" They assented, but then asked what they were calling the police for. The answer (and the only one they got) came back as "Bad guys are doing bad stuff!" Even though it's funny (or maybe you had to be there, I don't know) I feel for the guy. Obviously he was stressed and his composure had cracked, and he wanted help in a big way. I never found out what it was exactly, but I heard the mobile unit that went to assist him radio in that it was all clear awfully fast for such a dire situation.

Superbia - I'm full of myself. And I say things in the definitive, even when they should be in the subjective. Also, I'm better than you. Really though, I think I may possibly milk my relationship with the client (i.e. they like me) for credibility when I'm dealing with an errant guard. Possible example: I don't let my guards rewrite their own orders - they have to do it my (better) way, despite their reasoning. I find the reasoning flawed, but that doesn't mean that they do.

Humilitas - I don't let you know how much better I am than you. ;) And if I can do something good without anybody knowing about it, that's the good stuff right there. Too many people have tooted my horn (kinky!) for me to need to do it too often myself. Possible example: in the forums I ghost around, I often PM information to people engaged in disputes so they can present it themselves in defense of what they're saying, rather than posting it myself with a smarmy comment.

Hmmm, this didn't turn out to be as interesting/amusing as I'd hoped. Ah well, it's all I've got. Let me shift the balance by telling you about Powerclown - the Vancouver-based middle aged, whiskey drinking, cigarette smoking, foul mouthed jerks who cover Iron Maiden songs in full clown regalia. Follow the link to see a picture of Pisstank and Sketchy, or check out this semi-mockumentary below:



I only know about these guys because Valium Wailer was at their concert at the Cobalt, and tried to tell me a story about what he was getting up to there, but I got stuck at the concept of of the band. Here's a clip: