Saturday, September 13, 2003

Blog Grr Just in time for the new arrivals of freebies at Blogger, I'm in the process of creating a new site at TypePad. A blog site that I pay for.

Not like I have an actual life to worry about.

The new blog should be known as stupidangrycanajun.typepad.com although gord only knows if I got that right.
Personal Piss-off Rating: No additional Peeves (I'm too busy right now to calculate)

Friday, September 12, 2003

Special Education, Part Two   Ah. Some details might convert my earlier rant from mere complaining into something even less coherent. We've all had two years to reflect on the events of September 11, 2001. Some of us, it seems, have avoided the issue so completely as to make believe nothing unusual happened.

Believe it (or else) it is not my way to impose my stringent and hard-hearted views upon the rest of the world. Shit, I have enough trouble finding my own path. But my gord, when I listen to eight non-stop hours of how "the Americans are just looking for cheaper oil" and "all they want is to stick it to Canada" - the end result is, I want to "stick it" to some very special people.

Let's explore the topic of "the oil." Is the invasion of Iraq about oil? Of course. Without the oil, the terrorists would not have had the funds to commit acts of terror outside their own countries. Would America invade Iceland? If Icelandic terrorists slammed planes into America, I have no doubt that America would respond in kind. Would Icelanders slam planes into America? Highly doubtful. As far as I know, Iceland is not home to multiple fanatical terrorists who wish to demolish the Western World. Why doesn't America invade other countries where civil liberties are non-existent? Perhaps because America hasn't been invaded by terrorists from these other countries. I'm sure that Americans would like to see democracy and peace throughout the world. Is that reason enough to enter by force? No, I didn't think so. Read Damian Penny for words that express my views coherently.

So I ask again, where was our Prime Minister during the Ottawa September 11 ceremonies? With glowing hearts, we saw thee rise, the true north strong and free. From far and wide, oh Canada, we shed our tears for thee.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 208 Peeves (These are additional peeves)
Special Education   Several (OK, all but two) of my co-workers attended school several years after I graduated. Did all the smart teachers retire after I graduated? Did the school districts suddenly develop a conscience and hire only those students who could not be employed elsewhere due to extreme stupidity? Where exactly is the problem in education? Is it the water, the air, the consistently cold temperatures that might be permafreezing the brains of most canajuns? My co-workers have become so frighteningly dim-witted that I wait until the parking lot is cleared before I dare to start my vehicle. Giving them a ten-minute head start just might mean I am not sharing a road with people who can't tell right from left, never mind right from wrong. Speaking of my vehicle: Whenever I start the ignition, my car calls me an Air Bag. I find that quite rude. Of course, giving them that head start means I miss the trail of breadcrumbs they must follow to get home at the end of each workday. What moron leaves the trail for them to find their way back to the office five days a week? One of these days I expect to see a short bus parked outside the office, with most of my co-workers inside.

Speaking of special, just think how special this boy must feel. And kudos to the school board who decided not to discipline the three bullies too harshly. Send them home from school two days early, that'll learn 'em. What is school for, but to prepare children for real life? After all, where was our Prime Minister during the Ottawa September 11 ceremonies? With glowing hearts, we saw thee rise, the true north strong and free. From far and wide, oh Canada, we shed our tears for thee
Personal Piss-off Rating: 208 Peeves (27 for the combined ages of the bullies, another 27 for the combined IQ of the administrators involved, another 27 for the combined IQ of the government officials in Ottawa – yes, I'm particularly generous today – 127 for the combined IQ of my (all but two) coworkers plus the mechanic who programmed "Air Bag" into my vehicle – the mechanic gets 100 for creativity)

Thursday, September 11, 2003

Position Available SOON: Canadian Foreign Service Diplomat

Job Description: Promote our bilateral and multilateral agenda with countries and international organizations. Promote Canada's peace building and democratic development initiatives. Negotiate audio-visual cooperation agreements to enhance cultural links between countries. Translation: Close your eyes, shut your mouth, accept the bribes along with the bullshit, count your pensionable hours and invest in an off-shore retirement home as quickly as possible

Qualifications: The diversity of the work places a premium on flexibility, adaptability and sound judgment. Translation: Strong Liberal Ties. One or more close family member joined at the hip to one or more senior federal official. MUST be able to ignore the obvious AND deny the undeniable without snickering or blushing. HIGH tolerance for alcohol is extremely desirable

While we appreciate your application to this position, we cannot possibly acknowledge every entry. Only those who meet our rigid standards will be contacted for an interview. Translation: Those with any conscience or sense of moral outrage need not apply. If we don't already know you, we are NOT hiring you

My thanks to Tim G of Right On! Blog for the tip about Peter Worthington's column.

Lest ye think I make this up, take a strong anti-spasmodic before reading this official missive
Personal Piss-off Rating: 75 (One for every thousand dollars of diplomatic salary)

Last night Hubby and I were complimented by a local restaurant. The hostess led us to a booth that would comfortably fit two people of less than 40 pounds each. Being as both of us are significantly more than 40 pounds each, we were extremely flattered.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 210 Peeves (One for each pound that was flattened by the booth's table)

Chaos Day   Much as I resist linking to multiple sites for fear of creating chaos, I must admit I enjoy chaos from time to time. Today is one of those times. September 11 is an official Chaos Day. Let us celebrate accordingly.

First, and this is big, the topic of 9/11. There are literally thousands of sites that reference the invasions of September 11, 2001. Feel free to read or not read, as long as you continue to think. I lost friends that day. I will say no more

This leads to the topic of mortality. If you can read this entry, you owe it to your brain to read this entry and this one from Arrrrgh!!! Of course, it would be most advisable to read the rest of that blog (at least those entries that load when you first visit; bookmark that site). Check Ann's entry and then delve into Broad At Bat. Meditate upon Chuck's entry at You Big Mouth, You!. After that, I shall pause for a moment to pay homage to a friend, whose father passed the veil from this life to the next. Then I shall pray for another friend, who is on the verge of passing, and whose family is working to provide organ donations to maintain the cycle of life on this planet. Anyone who does not believe there is a life after this one is welcome to keep his/her beliefs, just as I keep mine. Keep that which serves you.

Yin and Yang. One cannot do justice to those who die unless one does justice to the living. One year ago, a very dear friend of mine (who, oddly enough, is also related to me) took his first steps (again) after experiencing the very worst and the very best of medical care. Ken asks how to quit loving someone quickly. My advice is, let the love transform into the absence of hate. Sure, I get pissed off; some moments I am downright volcanic. What I hate is that people get caught in the belief that thinking is too difficult for them. Will I hate them when we meet again, on the other side? I do not believe I shall meet Osama or Saddam there. How about you?
Personal Piss-off Rating: 2003 Peeves (Not much thought required for that one)

Tuesday, September 09, 2003

Gord bless sticky notes   These little gems help me to retain what little sanity I have. A sticky note with "2003/08/05 Package to Jim on 2003/08/15" moves through the days in my journal. Every day I write a line indicating what else was done to achieve this goal. On the due date, I put a huge check mark through the entire note and place it in my "DONE" pile. Ah, satisfaction.

Sometimes sticky notes display messages that are less professional. Twelve months ago I wrote "Jimbette asked me for the log book from 1994. I told her I've never seen that log book" on a sticky note, along with the date. Today this proud note achieved star status. This note has been in my journal for exactly twelve months and has been updated once a month for the last year. Yes, on or around the ninth day of every month, for the last year:
- Jimbette asked for the same non-existent log book
- Jimbette was shocked that the 1994 log book is not available
- Jimbette told me she really needs the 1994 log book
- I asked Jimbette what she needs the log book for
- Jimbette (in her most serious tone): "We need to keep records, you know."

Makes me wonder what happened in 1994, when Jimbette was responsible for maintaining the log book.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 199.4 Peeves (Duh)

Not Again   You check CNN for the latest news on TV. You check Nealenews for the latest on the Internet. You want to read this article at least twice. Here's a brief summary: Al Qaeda promises to kick our collective butts in a way that will make the attacks of September 11, 2001, seem like a walk in the park. There are also comments from American officials about the tape and the situation that seems to be building in Iraq. One man in particular is described as a Jordanian, believed to have been the leader of Al Qaeda's Baghdad cell. He was "reportedly under house arrest in Iran" and is now believed to be on his way to Iraq. When one is under house arrest, one can apparently determine within which house one will serve one's sentence. Why is he being allowed to travel? Specifically, why is he being allowed to travel to Iraq? I can't think of a single reason why a North American would be allowed to wander across country borders when under arrest in Iran. Then again, I can't think of a single reason why a North American would receive a sentence of "house arrest" rather than "survive as long as you can in this skanky hole we laughingly refer to as a prison, you capitalist Islam-hating lower than life form." Then again, as a recovering moron, I may be trapped in that limbo between "knowing" and "not knowing." Do I believe the threat on the audiotape? Do I believe that terrorists are swarming to Iraq? Do I believe that the terrorists are gaining easy access and able to meet secretly in Iraq? I thought U.S. President Bush was going to use money from Iraq's oil to pay for the country's restoration. I thought it obvious that the Pizza Man did not voluntarily lock an active bomb around his own neck. The FBI is still investigating that one I thought thirteen year olds should be afraid to attack police officers. Then again, even I don't understand Canada's view on young offenders I thought I could walk out of my front door without being attacked by my neighbour's Rhodesian Ridgeback. I was wrong, three times out of three, when the dog ran up to my front door and I chose the most painful of all evils, retreating instead of whacking the neighbour with my clue-by-four I thought that, having provided my current address to at least five people in the oztario government over the last three weeks, someone would be able to update a file and send mail to me without requiring me to make another long distance phone call to obtain information that should be mine without question. Wow, is my face red; I forgot my house wanders aimlessly and at random I also thought that people who take and make phone calls on behalf of a provincial government might actually speak English clearly enough to be understood without an interpreter. So, as you can see, I can frequently be wrong.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 285 Peeves (Trust me, how could I be wrong?)

Sunday, September 07, 2003

A License to Kill   When public transit is a rumour, not reality, and your closest neighbour could have an all-night party without interrupting your sleep, you tend to regard a driver's license more of a right than a responsibility. So yes, I can understand why these young people were driving to and/or from parties. Any thinking person knows why armies want recruits who are less than 25 years old: these are the same people who believe they are immortal. So yes, I can forgive some of those same young people for being in the bed of the pickup truck. I can even understand how someone can lose care and control of him/herself by consuming alcohol. Do not expect me to understand, appreciate or forgive that same person for voluntarily being in care and control of a vehicle. Canajuns are all agitated about cell phone being used by drivers. Perhaps we should first determine how to pull ourselves out of the Stoned Age.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 171 Peeves (Maximum number of years lived by the people involved in this crash)

Weekend Update

Compliment of the Week   Boss (he-who-signs-my-paycheque) bought me lunch.

DID of the Week   Acidman's Beth Taylor/Grace/Rene. This highly complex and unemployed collective claims several distinct email addresses, including Acidman's. I suspect this group of personalities formed after a radioactive spider bite went terribly, horribly awry. The core personality of this group was searching for Spiderman's website when another personality moved the fingers on the keyboard. Result: All hail Acidman!
(DID = Dissociative Identity Disorder, aka MPD, Multiple Personality Disorder. You're welcome)

Word of the Week   Downage. Runner-up: Blog*Spot. Nuff said.

Surprise of the Week   Mahmoud Abbas' resignation. He was disrespected and powerless. What went wrong, did he not get a corner office or something? Runner-up: U.S. unemployment rises. What went wrong, aren't people smart enough to kill themselves instead of turning to the government for help at a time when taxes are crushing the life out of them being cut?

Darwin Award Candidate   Mr. Big(ger) Crack(er). Folks, this guy is 26 years old. Who the hell left him alone with firecrackers? Thank gord this guy can no longer reproduce. I'm sorry, I really shouldn't make fun of someone whose shoe size exceeds their IQ by a factor of two. Nowhere could I find the name of his day supervisor, who really needs to be reprimanded.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 35 Peeves (There was a lot of addition and subtraction to determine this rating)

Saturday, September 06, 2003

Official Explanation   "Blogger and Blog*Spot experienced downage today due to too many packets being sent our way. We're mostly back up. Still looking into some things." See status.blogger.com if you don't believe me.

Where were these packets coming from? How many is too many? Whose age was down, and how can I reduce my chronological years? Shazbot, I have backtrekked into moronicy.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 60 Peeves (These are additional peeves)

Linkmore   Someone admonished me to link more. "Provide more blog links in your text. It shows you support your fellow bloggers." Way cool. You called me a blogger. Now that my ego has soared to new heights, let me mention one teeny problem: I snap when I encounter the dynamic duo of "Cannot find server" and "The page cannot be displayed". Is the problem with my computer, my ISP, the server at the other end, an electrical outage? Do I care? And do I care if the link is available eight minutes later? Honk if you're highspeed. If I want to be frustrated by non-functioning links, I'll go back to 9600 baud. Non-functioning links have been a fact of life in my world for the last two months. Just today, I was not able to access any blogspot blog for several hours. And not all of these are the cheap rat-ass free sites like you're reading at this moment. Pissed me right off. Meant I had no discernable reason to avoid housework. Fortunately, I was smart enough to keep hitting "refresh" so I was able to continue avoiding housework on the pretense that I was actually on the Internet. Actually, I was on the edge. What of the impact to an Internet newbie? And what about those poor saps who are forced to answer the "help desk" phones at ISPs around the world? The spin off effect is frightening: mass panic, evacuations, children left unattended at Christmas parties, I dare not go on. Can you comprehend the chaos if I provided more than one or two links per post in this blog?
Personal Piss-off Rating: 96 Peeves (Down to a more manageable level to start)

Sasquatch-A-One   Lest ye think I speak unfairly of Saskatchewan (which is, after all, the major breeding ground for Alberta; we only think Newfoundland is the largest contributor because of the accents or lack thereof): This particular news item makes my blood boil. In Saskatchewan, a 26-year-old man was convicted of sexually molesting a 12-year-old girl. The man is given "house arrest" instead of "jail time." Please understand, if your dog runs away in Saskatchewan, you can see your dog three days later. That land is f-l-a-t. So if the 26-year-old sexual offender decides to make a run for it, well, chances are he won't be out of eyesight for several days. That is not the point. This 26-year-old man was trying to have sex with a 12-year-old girl who said she was 14. That is not the point. This 26-year-old man gave alcohol to and attempted to have sex with a girl he thought was 14 years old. That is not the point. The point is, I cannot find any law in Saskatchewan that would allow the government to remove from judgedom a man who needs one more neuron to have a synapse. This judge makes all Saskatchewanians look just plain stoopid. (Thanks to Nealenews.com once again.) Did you notice I haven't even touched on the potential racist angle here? I am so gaddam proud of myself I might just shut up for a few minutes.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 380 Peeves (These are additional peeves; I tried to tie this in to the age of the offender + the age of the victim + the judge's IQ, but I ended up with a negative rating that way)

Friday, September 05, 2003

An Angry Departure from the Norm   Recently, "Tucker" (a blogger) revealed some deeply personal information to me, in private. Yes, that is rather oxymoron-ish, isn't it? A blogger, keeping something private? And, gordblessme, I respect the right to privacy (which is a separate issue from Bill 44, for those who are keeping up with Alberta politics).

Take "Iffy", his lovely wife "Eejit", add alcohol with their remaining brain cells, throw in Internet access, and you get Tucker-Shaken-And-Stirred. A seemingly normal couple, Iffy and his lovely wife Eejit violated Tucker's space. Space can be physical or virtual. Access does not automatically confer ownership. A sane and rational person knows this. A sane, rational and sober person respects this. Eejit may claim she fell out of her family tree but the truth is, she was pushed out. She could review her behaviours, including the high probability of substance abuse, and take responsibility for herself. She prefers to claim perpetual victim status. Now I'm not saying Eejit is a moron; I'm saying she prefers downhill skiing in Saskatchewan ("The view is sooo much better!"). Iffy slid down the family tree in the middle of the night to join her. As you might guess, Eejit denies all responsibility for the violation and Iffy apologizes excessively to Tucker. Iffy contacts Tucker and promises this will never, ever happen again. Iffy is so sure of this that he is willing to cease contact with Tucker (huh?) just in case Tucker doesn't trust him any more. And then the predictable and reprehensible plea: "But please don't make me stop reading your blog" (here comes the emotional heart tugs) "because I need to know what's going on in your life and" (here comes part two of the one-two punch) "I just love the way you write." Listen up, dude, the name's Tucker, not Sucker You saw that one coming, didn't you?

Tucker, who has far more class than I, felt it acceptable for me to release this rant on my blog. Tucker does not need my opinion on handling this situation. My opinion is (surprisingly) somewhat abrasive: A heartfelt apology can be said many, many times. A heartfelt apology need only be heard once. Once again, you read it here first If I don't hear your heartfelt apology, you can bet your bottom dollar it's because I am not ready to hear it. Don't keep repeating it like a mantra that gets you out of jail for free. Try again when I am in a more receptive mood. Like that ever occurs An apology that is not heartfelt is a waste of your vocal chords and my hearing aids. Keep repeating it and you will need a "get out of hospital for free" card. They are in my version of Monopoly When I do not hear your apology: believe, understand and know that you have lost my trust. This condition, by the way, gives me the right to call you a Loser.

In case it isn't obvious, all names have been changed, out of respect to Tucker. That same respect means there will be no further details released unless Tucker makes that request.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 200 Peeves (These are additional peeves: 10 for each whining "I'm sorry", 50 for the initial violation and 50 for the malicious final plea)

Children, Christmas, Chretien   Being not overly fond of children, I limit my contact with things child-centered. The brains behind the Huggabunch really, really hated children. The Huggabunch scare me, fergordssake. Who the hell wants to walk through mirrors? Read books by Lewis Carroll and talk to me about fun with mirrors. Fun, did someone mention fun? Let me tell you how to have fun at work. According to Shrillita, stomping around barefoot is fun. Stomping is fun. Bare feet are fun. Screaming when a bare foot comes in contact with a sharp object imbedded (not far enough) in the carpet is fun. Did I mention that Shrillita is having this much fun at work? Are bare feet more or less offensive than bunny slippers in an office environment? Perhaps it is helpful to mention that bare feet do not increase productivity, according to my (admittedly limited) survey results. Speaking of Shrillita, she is working on the Children's Christmas Party. Did I mention I do not care for children? I thought so. Did I mention I am not a Christian and that I do not celebrate Christmas? More precisely, how many times must these facts be mentioned before people stop asking me to take over the arrangements for the Children's Christmas Party? Has anyone considered what kind of children's party I would arrange? None of this Santa Claus crap; at what point did Santa Claus replace Jesus Christ in the Christian version of Christmas? I'll deck the halls with mirrors and make the children do the fire walk to get their presents. Presents would consist of Huggabunch dolls. Door prizes would be Huggabunch videos. The jury is still out on who would hand these delightful treats to the little ones: Jean Chretien or Nick Lysyk (they are both so good at handing out things they don't personally own). Is it possible to plan a better party than that? I don't think so.

Here, staple something and leave me alone.
Personal Piss-off Rating: 316 Peeves (One for each million that Mr. Lysyk allegedly stole from the Bank of Montreal, 100 for the morons who allowed him to steal that much before doing anything constructive, and the rest because: Jean Chretien, Huggabunch, Christmas, Children's Parties, that's why)

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