Apr 20

Mixed Bag of Nibblenuts

First of all, does anyone remember Rebecca Black and the video “Friday” Did you think it was bad? You won’t now. It’s actually a completely normal song, after listening to this.

Isn’t that nice? I’m so sorry, but I was scarred by it, and only thought it fair to pass that on. Kind of like everyone did with “Two Girls, One Cup” only this is worse. It’s one of those things that I hope is a joke, but in a way I hope that someone is that delusional and bad. Continue reading

Dec 18

I got some things I need to say

I just don’t know where to start. I guess the positive is a good place to start.

The positive (sort of)

I was just chatting with an old pal of mine, and he recently had a baby girl. He’s one of those really good guys, that’s nice to everyone, he’s funny, smart, and loves life (No, it’s not me). He’s the kind of guy that deserves to have a little bundle of love waiting for him when he gets to his days off. Yeah, he doesn’t get to live with his daughter, or even near her, but as soon as he’s done work, he’s trekking across the province to see his little girl. You know why he does that? Because he loves her and that’s what you do. Just because you and the child’s mother aren’t together anymore, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t spend every possible moment with your kid. I know quite a few people that barely make the time to see their kids on their scheduled visitation days, and they live in the same town. This guy drives probably 15 hours to spend as much time as he can with her. He’s a proud daddy, and he knows that his daughter’s life is more important than anything else. I liked him a lot before I heard this story, and now I’m almost in love with the dude. Seriously, can you find a better reason to be proud to know someone? Anyhow, I just thought that all of you girls that say there aren’t any good guys left, can rest assured that there are. I’ve said it a million times, just to get told that all of those guys are all taken. Hey, open your eyes, they are right in front of you, but because there’s nothing for you to change about them, you aren’t interested.

Sorry for getting all high and mighty there. I just thought I should turn a really nice story into a rant about women liking “bad boys”; it’s sad, but you all know it’s true. I really am happy for my friend, and I’m happy for his daughter for having parents that will work together to make her life wonderful. I also have some other happy news. HOME IN THREE DAYS!!!

That Chin guy is going to get to work the night shift, then get a free flight to Calgary. Awesome, right? Not for me. I have to drive the water truck to FSJ (8-9 hours), then the Green Goblin to Calgary (9-10 hours) to make a six o’clock flight to the homeland, where my sweet baby will be waiting for us at the airport. I just remembered that at 9:00 the next morning, I have a dentist appointment to get this hideous bastard fixed.

…and that, son, is how not to open a beer with your teeth.

That should be fun; Mrs. Birdman will get me home by 2 AM, and I’m sure we will go right to sleep, so I’ll get six hours sleep, right? Not bloody likely. I don’t care though, I just want to kiss her lips, and hold her again. It’s been way too long for this cowboy. The stolen hugs by the mandaid and the security guard just don’t cut it; I need me some cocoon time, and I’ll give up being awake while my toof gets bilt to get some.

Now for the negative

An old work friend passed away, and his funeral is tomorrow. Sadly, I won’t be able to make it, but I would like to pay my respects anyhow. Aaron and I worked with Jim on different jobs, and he was just a good, funny, easy going guy. When I was trying to learn to run cat, he was very patient, never getting upset if I screwed things up, and always giving me hints that he had learned in his years of  working in the patch. I’m embarrassed to say that I sucked as an operator, and no amount of teaching or hints would make me passable, so it wasn’t Jim’s fault that I never was any good. Anyhow, get some rest, buddy. It was a pleasure knowing you, and break up is just around the corner.

Okay now, why the fuck does anyone give two shits about whether or not someone says Happy Holidays? Get a grip on something, folks. Not everyone celebrates the birth of Christ, or the whole commercial aspect of Christmas. I would rather celebrate Neil Young’s birthday than Jesus’. At least I know that Neil Young has brought me great happiness, and that he exists in the flesh. I know Jesus exists in your hearts, but please don’t cram it down our throats. Yeah, I celebrate Christmas reluctantly, but I always try to use “xmas”, because then I don’t have to capitalize it or recognize that it has anything to do with Jesus. Not everyone in the public school system, the civil service, or the major corporations buys into your horseshit religion, because they have their own horseshit religions. They aren’t yelling Happy Diwali, or Happy Hanukkah at you angrily, so why the big deal about Christmas? No one is saying that you can’t say it, but why do you expect a Chinese or Indian greeter at Walmart to say it because it’s your belief? What’s wrong with Happy Holidays anyhow? Everyone gets their statutory holidays, and I’m sure they’re happy about that; maybe not happy enough to believe in Jesus, but happy nonetheless. So why not just smile and say “Thank you. You enjoy yours as well.”? I don’t know, maybe I’m not running with the pack here, but those are my two cents, anyways.

Also, I got ripped off today. It was supposed to be steak night, and instead, it turned out to be prime rib night. Awesome, right? No, no it’s exactly the opposite of awesome. I got the end piece, which was the equivalent of eating a dried out piece of boot leather. I looked around at everyone enjoying their beautiful, pink slabs of delicious, while I had to take a drink with each bite, just to get it down. Oh well, one more supper here, then it’s homeward bound.

Last but definitely not least is to state that I hate dogfuckers. People who try to dawdle and have it timed out so that they won’t be able to get another load after 6 PM. It’s unbelievable, really. We make very good money, to do very little work, and then you have guys that need to pilfer that last thirty minutes out of the oil company’s hands. Whatever. They pay us very well to work for them, and they treat us quite decently as well. Why do people feel the need to dog fuck every little bit they can? You aren’t doing anything but waiting around anyhow, grab half a load and spread it on the way out. Make them want to hire you back, because if I notice it, others do too, and the next job that they need trucks for, could be when you happen to need a job as well. I don’t know where everybody’s work ethic went, or maybe I’m just getting old, but I think that if you hate your job enough to steal from your boss, you should go find something you like better. Oh, and good luck getting a letter of recommendation, you lazy douchebag.

There, I’ve said all that needs to be said at this particular juncture. I wish everybody, safe travels, and please make it home in one piece, if you aren’t home already. Your loved ones don’t need to be IDing a body for their holidays, so drive safe, and do it sober. If you need a ride, call a cab, a friend, or if none of those work, call me, but please don’t drink and drive. Now please enjoy the greatest thing in the world.

Who’s gonna drive you home, tonight?

Birdman

 

Dec 17

Today we look to the east

I love most kinds of music, and I’m sure a lot of you are like that, so I feel okay to make a suggestion to you. There is one artist in particular that I always go back to, over and over. His music is timeless, and his voice is very distinct, and I’m sad to say that a lot of Canadians don’t know of Stan Rogers. I didn’t myself, until about ten years ago, or so. Geoff Ashford was singing Barrett’s Privateers, while we were drunk at Keypile, and I recognized the song from people singing it at parties. I just had no idea who sang it. When he told me, I went straight to the music store in the mall, after breakup, and ordered Fogarty’s Cove. I was in heaven. I immediately started looking for info on this guy, and was quite saddened to find out that he died in the fire on Air Canada Flight 797. He was only 33 years old, with so much more life to live.

 

To say that he has a powerful presence is putting it mildly. I don’t think there is a song of his that I don’t like, and there are some that I absolutely love. Way too many to post here, but I’ll put up a few in hopes that you will go to  http://www.stanrogers.net/ and check out his legacy. There are also many videos on Youtube that can give you some insight, and help you decide if you’d like to support his family, by buying some of his incredible music.

I wish it wasn’t going to kill this post for me to put up all of the ones I love, but it will, and I don’t want to do that, so I’ll put up two more, and be done with you.This next one is dedicated to Mrs. Birdman, and always tugs at my heartstrings when I hear it.

This last one makes me remember a man, who lived, and loved his life of farming, raising his family and being one of the greatest men I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. It may be inappropriate, but I think Mrs. B will understand. I’ve told her how much I liked my ex-father in law, and how much I respected him, so it may be totally appropriate. Anyhow, old buddy, this ones for you, and it will always bring a tear to my eye. Rest in peace George.

So there you have it, the new weekend format. We’ll see how that goes, and if you have someone in mind that you’d like to have featured on the weekends, please harass us, and let us know. We love to hear about really good shit too, you know.

It’s like that, and it’s like this, I took her to the pad and we started to kiss,

Birdman