Apartment flooded. Villa short-circuited. Flew to London. Hesitant Cabbie. Tube. Pearl Jam. Anna Robinson. Aoife O'Beirn. England played terribly against Germany. Bishop's Finger. London Eye. Dirty Plane to Edinburgh. Uncle Rod. Aunt Maureen. Old City. Sarah and I get irritated. Fast Car. Faster Car. Eat Breakfast in Heathrow with Jennifer and Dave. Paul in a ridiculous outfit. 6 hours short for E.I. Corner Brook. Cooper. Mazda 3 Sport. The Seventh. Camping Around Twillingate. Lee Stroud showing how he fights. One Man's Loss is Another's Gain Move to St. John's. New SNL. Went to work still drunk. Move to Placentia. PS3 breaks. Turned 30. Surprise Party. Ipod Touch. Wicked Wife. Bought Xmas off the Internet. Attempted Fertilization. Apple TV From Chris Boxing Day Near-Miss. 2nd Xmas With Separated Parents. New TV Call For School. 1 Firework For New Year's. We Both Get Sick. I Get The Worst Of It.
I'm working in a hospital. Again Today I had to work in the morgue. There were dead bodies in one, refrigerated room. For most of the afternoon, I worked in the morgue by myself. Right over the stainless steel table that they do the autopsies on. On the wall, next that table, was a plaque that had "The autopsy Oath" on it. In fewer words, it said "Don't tell anyone about the shit that happens in here, no matter how fucked up it looked" I can only imagine being there for an autopsy and having the doctor saying "Jesus, this one liked nachos. Hey! Don't tell anyone I said that!" I worked in other morgues before.
We got kicked out of the morgue in Grand Falls because they had to do an autopsy on someone and they don't like doing autopsies when there is concrete dust in the air.
They keep the Christmas decorations in the morgue in Baie Verte.
I sleep with my eyes open. People that don't know really know me tell me that I am full of shit. I do though. Sometimes wide open. Freckledick once took a picture of me with his phone when I was asleep and it was that disturbing to me that I haven't able to look at it since. When I first started working on the road, I fell asleep in the back of my co-workers truck. The two guys in the front seat were talking and asking me questions. They became concerned when I became unresponsive. They pulled over and started shaking me. I immediately woke up and told them that we weren't going to get along "if they got on with that childish bullshit" I had to explain my condition to them afterwards. I earned the nickname "snake eyes" Fot those who still don't believe....
I got back on the island yesterday morning. I am so happy to be back in a more favorable musical climate. Some time ago, I made a comment in one of my posts that I didn't like music as much as I used to and I had started listening to CBC radio. After spending almost two weeks in Labrador, where CBC is the alternative to a radio station that really likes The Flummies. I'll never say that I am getting sick of the satellite radio again. I'll tell you what I am sick of.... this bag of horseshit. The girls @ the Hillbilly Ranch really liked this one and played it frequently. I did not want to hear that song more than two times in my life. If they wanted raunchy, (I guarantee, the Hillbilly was already full of it) they should have played this. I am moving to airport heights soon pending a house inspection. Once I get there and everything is straightened away, my hat party project will go in to full swing. I wanted to have it at my present residence but you realistically can't have a party there. There were five people there at one point during the second boone's chug and it felt full. I have been contemplating ways to entice people to wear their craziest hat to the party. I have a few ideas. I won't let them loose here though. I am just very excited now. Things really are looking up.
P.S. I was listening to that flummies song as I was writing this post and they mentioned mulligan's in the song. That is the place where I was loaded and was groped and petted inside my underpants by Suzie (not her real name, you don't need to know that). I don't have the guts to post the details of the whole occasion, even though I have just told you the worst part. Thanks again Bobby for saving me from communicable disease.
EDIT: Let it be known that I did not invite Suzie to grope me and I was too drunk to do anything about it in a crowded bar. Now I know how you women feel @ the Sundance.
This post was written on Saturday, July 26 @ 8:23 P.M. in Goose Bay Labrador. The shady lodging that i am staying in has no internet so I’ll post this as soon as I can find unsecured wireless. As stupid as I think people are for not putting a password on their wireless connection, I thank them every time I go on the road for work. I am not sure the name of the place I am staying in while I am here but it is attached to this club called “The Hillbilly Ranch” It’s title is a direct result of its clientele. Not many people I have seen there have all their teeth. Seriously. I got totally wasted there on wednesday night. Bobby got pretty drunk too. I can’t really remember what happened during the tail end of the evening. Thursday night was ladies night. That was just fuckin’ retarded. A lot of natives there. Not one one of them worth looking at twice, let alone attempting receiving sexual contact from them. I am well aware of the time that has elapsed since my last encounter I’d never forgive myself if I sunk that low. Someone wanted to have sex with one of them though. I saw them do it. Between the side of the building and the side of my company van. I wanted to yell, or cheer or do something, but they saw me and didn’t stop so I figured it wasn’t worth it. The job is going very quickly and I expect to be home sooner than I anticipated. Still not soon enough. It is hotter than a four-balled tomcat. Read that last sentence out loud, with a southern accent. Clever. Seriously, it climbs into the mid 30s here in the afternoon. At 6 P.M. it was 29 degrees. No wind either. The natives drink their beer warm. Even in this weather. They can have it.
I feel like I am missing someone but it seems I have no one to miss. I miss you Hope to see you soon, whoever you are...
I leave for Labrador in the morning... As if this summer couldn't get any more fucked up. When I wanted to go on the road to work I was posted in town where I was miserable and lonely. My sister comes home from halfway around the world and I get sent to Goose Bay. I don't think I know anyone from Goose Bay or even Labrador for that matter so I shouldn't have to apologize for making the place seem shitty. In my life, right now, It's a bigger shithole than that bar on Tilton Barrens. "The Pine Grove" is the name (I think). That was a tangent. The worst part of going there is coming back. There will be no one waiting for me at the airport. Yet the world keeps turning...
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
It seems a very important person has entered my life once again. A very nice letter was written. I cried a little bit. I am such a girl. The people that know me best know that I am a complete mamma's boy. I am kind of proud of that. She cooks very well. I have impressed many a girlfriend by taking them to my parent's place so that mom could show off her culinary excellence. She is also an interior decorator. You know this when you walk in my parent's house. She has a real knack for decorating houses for Christmas. It's the most wonderful time of the year you know.
Don Cherry has lost his mind you know. The shit he gets on with reminds me of when I worked the seniors homes there a few years ago. Specifically, the Alzheimer's ward. I am convinced he is suffering from it. That greatest Canadian shit they had a few years ago on CBC might have pushed him over the ego-edge as well... that old cocksucker.
I haven't posted any music that I found new and/or interesting lately (other than my covers entry that none of you gave a fuck about) so here is some shit for you tickle your taints with
Corner Brook is done son! I think that's what Shandera would say if he was a sprinklerfitter. That's what I am saying. Glad to be out of the mill, glad to be out of the Humber Haven, glad to be away from the bearded-brute's face. I love working with him... I just can't handle him on a non-professional level.
This post was written on Thursday February 14th I should be home this time next week. Barring any catastrophic mishap, I’ll be somewhere handy to Conception Bay on Thursday. It couldn’t come soon enough. Large men are drinking beer at the foot of my bed and complaining on how the beer isn’t cold enough. This is how I am spending Valentine’s Day.
I’m back in Corner Brook. Sometimes I refer to it as CB. It can stand for Corner Brook or Cock Block. Both are true. We are staying in a Motel this time. There is no Internet. This place kinda reminds me of the place a couple on the lam would “hang low” for a couple of a days until the heat dies down... We are not far from Corner Brook but we are in a sort wilderness. The guy next door is fucking a woman that’s not his wife. One of the guys I am working with is ecstatic with our accommodations. “40 dollars a day between 3 fellers me buddy. Ya can’t beat dat” Comfort is certainly not one of his priorities. As long as there is a cribbage board and the space channel, he is happy. He is sitting at the foot of my bed as I write this. The place is so small that this is considered a comfortable distance. This is how I’ll probably spend Valentine’s day. There is a fridge in the room. It was warm on the inside when we arrived last night so I turned it on. It’s still warm now. That’s what 40 dollars gets you I guess. That same guy I was talking about earlier... flash back to him. You have pay attention to him sometimes. It gets hard sometimes because he gets repetitive. Sometimes though, he’ll say something that’ll blow your mind or will offend you in ways you never thought possible. Here’s one of my favorites... “Me buddy, I got no problem with gay people. I think they should be able to get married and do whatever. I just don’t think they should be doctors, nurses or teachers or anything like that.” Feel free to comment.
There's supposed to be a snowstorm here today. I don't know if snowstorms are the same here as they are on the east coast. Even though we are staying at a hotel, I guarantee I'll be shoveling. The guys I work with are like that.
My line of work has poked me in parts of this province that I never thought I would ever need to go to. It was in these places that I realized who my dream girl is. The girl who gives me googlie eyes. It's not a girl a with long hair or big tits (Although I am patrial). Are you ready for my dream girl? Nurses. There's nothing in this world that I find sexier than a nurse. I once told this to a very important person in my life and she offered to dress up like one for me. Although I appreciated her offer, she missed the point. It wasn't a physical attraction. I am attracted to the trade. I am brutal for breaking myself up. There's nothing sexier than a girl that can patch me up after I do something stupid. Oddly enough, I have never been to one of those mixers put off by the MUN nursing class. I guess it's because they aren't actually nurses yet. I just got out of the shower and as I was in there soapin and shavin I thought of song I haven't heard in eons. Check it out. Whatever happened to them?
I'm in Corner Brook. My work brings me here. I don't think I'd ever be here otherwise. I am far too careless to try going down that fucking mountain over there. If I was in band though, I would come here and play. They like bands here. The thing is, I AM in a band. We just haven't played a gig in about 3 years. We got together and jammed back before Xmas with the intention of playing a show during the holidays but much like the million other bands trying to stage a comeback, it fizzled early in its stages. This is not the first band I was in. Since high school, I have been trying to get a piece of the giant hash block that is rock stardom. This dream has all but been disassembled. I'm 27. Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, and Janis Joplin were ALL dead at 27. This is my year to die of Rock n' Roll excess. My rock n' roll excess now consists of drinking too much Crown Royal, singing "You may be right" By Billy Joel at the Grumpy Stump via Karaoke then going home, passing out and pissing the bed. I moved out of my apartment last week (I'll speak more on that in a future post) I stumbled across a few cassette tapes in a closet. Once I found something that I own that plays cassette tapes, I turned a few of them on to hear what was on them. After hearing a couple of mixtapes of songs that I haven't heard in a long time I came across an "Underground Chaos" tape. People who are old friends of mine will recognize the name immediately. This was the band I was in during High School.. Yes. This was the actual name. We later renamed the band "Coilhead" but "U.C.", as we liked to be called (but no one did) as what people remember. It sounded so shitty. Imagine the half-retarded mini-pop that sings shitty but they keep him in cause his studdering sounds like scatman. Got that? Now picture him singing "Man in the Box" by Alice in Chains. This was the band. The drummer moved to Labrador in 1997 and the band never recovered. He owned a bus that we used to drink beer and play our shitty music in. With that gone the whole band seemed pointless. I stole the drummer's girlfriend. I didn't like me for a while. I'm an asshole . As this blog matures, this fact will become more evident. Here is a pic from 1998 or 1999. It was at a battle of the bands. This was an impromptu U.C. reunion during sound check.. Dennis (U.C.'s) guitarist, is playing the drums.
