It’s true, I have eaten my last bit of ham and scalloped potato for a while. It was a good little spell, and the kids got spoiled by everyone, but what can you do? You sure can’t control anyone else, or what they buy for the girls. I guess it’s kind of like Christmas in a way, but this year we are going to do things differently. All of the kids are putting their name in a hat, and there will be one present bought per child. It’s too much anymore. By the time Santa gets here, there will be ten grandkids. That’s eight or nine gifts per family, and that’s too much. Way too much really, because there are six of us kids, and that means that every grandkid would get five gifts, not including what their parents, or grandparents get them.
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.
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?
Yeah, I’m going to rant about this for a bit, because I feel I’ve been too nice lately. This was brought to my attention by a friend who told me that she didn’t want me to share all of that sentimental shit with her. Well fine then, I shall dazzle you all with my thoughts on people who say gosh, darn, heck, frig and cripes, amongst others.
Alright, now let’s say that the bible is correct, and God does exist, and he is all powerful and all knowing, just like you all think he is. Do you think you’re fooling him by saying “gosh darn it”? No God damn way. He knows exactly what you mean. How about jeepers creepers or jeez? Nope, Jesus knows that you mean him, and worse yet, so does his dad. His dad gets pissed off really easy too. Don’t think that having a child has calmed that angry, old man down. He may have toned it down a bit for the New Testament, but believe you me, he’s still got a mean streak, and it gets worse when he’s drinking.
Yes, God and Jesus both know you are taking their names in vain, and if you weren’t so scared of them, you would be yelling that shit from the rooftops. It’s kind of like high school, when a bully is talking to you, and you’d tell them how much you like them, and how cool they are, but you really think they are assholes. You know what happens next? You go to a party, drink half a mickey of rye, and start talking about how you’d kick the living piss out of that big bastard. You might even add in that you already did hang a licking on them a few years ago, and he/she was still scared of you. Oh yeah, you’re the big man on campus now, with everyone crowding around asking for your autograph and shit, and that’s when it hits you. A massive fist, followed by several more, and as you start getting closer to the ground, the feet begin their frenzied riverdance all over your head, torso and occasionally your groin. This is exactly what is going to happen to you when God and his posse get a hold of you, except it will be the Devil laying the beating on your ass.
Luckily for me, I don’t believe in God, so I’m safe and free to live my life without fear of persecution from a higher power. I can blaspheme all day long if I want to, and I sometimes do. Jesus H Christ, I hope I’m right about the God not existing thing, or it’s gonna be a hot old afterlife for the Birdman. Just in case I am incorrect in my assumption, I’d like to get all of the Christians to pray for me and my soul. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to end up in Hell, but I’d like to get a cushier job and maybe some perks, like A/C or maybe a sweet log cabin in the woods for my holidays.
As for the swearing part, you should just relax and swear, instead of using the “diet cuss”. The words mean the exact same thing, all except for “frig”. I have yet to hear someone say “I took her home and frigged the crap out of her.”, that just sounds wrong. I’m not saying that no one says that. I just haven’t heard it, and I’ve met a lot of people that take women home. Why is “shit” any different from “crap”? It’s not, and never will be. They can both mean feces, trouble or bad. Why is shit wrong to say around some people then? I don’t know, but it is, and people usually check what they say when they are around the “gentle” people. I’m guilty of it too, but that’s a respect thing. If I know that someone doesn’t swear, I try not to swear around them. I don’t like making people feel uncomfortable, but I would like to raise people’s comfort levels up to mine, so I can be myself around them. I have a foul mouth, and no matter how I try to word things, they always mean the same thing in the end, so what’s the point of mincing words, when you can say it all with a good cuss? Another thing I like to do is to emphasize the curse words when I use them. I think it makes me funnier, and sometimes scarier, and I think we all will agree, that I could stand to be both.
In conclusion, my brothers and sisters, Go forth on your journey of enlightenment, and attend any church on Sunday. While you are there, make sure to say in a moderately loud voice, “I’m not taking any more of your God damn bullshit, Jesus, so you can go to Hell.”, and feel a great weight lift off of your shoulders. I’m just kidding. If you are in church, you should just whisper that shit. It’s quite rude to speak out there. When you are done at church, walk on over to our Facebook page, and enjoy some cookies and punch, you will like it. In case you didn’t understand. I want you to click the link above and go to our Facebook page and then click the like button there.
Michael row the boat ashore,
P.S. changethetopic.com is not responsibe for any smitings (or is it smotings?), beatings or rapes by religious zealots, or any other harm that may befall you in the event that people can’t take a fucking joke.
I’m going to start up where I left off last time, with me crawling back up the river to find a place to light. When I got myself to a flat enough spot on the shore, I thought maybe I’d have a little nap and get some much needed rest. I thought that was the most important thing at the time. Just a few minutes is all I’d need, and then I could worry about finding Aaron and getting our asses out of there. In Hudson’s Hope, the river is about ninety feet or so below the town, and the cliffs where we were are unclimbable. As I started to doze off, I heard yelling and whistling. Oh right, I was just with someone in the river. A few more yells and whistles, oh right, it was Aaron. I came out of my stupor, and started clambering towards the voice. It was starting to get dark by now, and the temperature was beginning to dip, but I saw him trying to find a spot to climb up the face and I tried a yell, but my voice wasn’t working very well. I was finally successful in getting his attention, as I got a bit closer and there was much rejoicing. I guess Aaron had watched me going down the river and figured I was dead already, so when I showed up there may or may not have been hugging, I’m not at liberty to say.
We had lost our cell phones, wallets and keys, not to mention the matches, when the tube fell out of the canoe, so we had no fire and I was losing body temperature pretty quick. I had also lost my new glasses, but I wasn’t too worried about driving right then. Aaron hadn’t been in as long as I had, and he seemed to be in better shape. He was whistling and hollering up the cliff, but we didn’t know if anyone in the houses would be able to hear us over the roar of the water. My kidneys were starting to hurt pretty bad from the cold and being bashed around on the rocks and I got Aaron to rub them really fast to warm them up. I don’t know if it made any difference physically, but mentally I could feel warmth from the friction making it’s way through me. We were hoping Lannie had missed us by now and had called someone, but we had been known for dawdling before, so we weren’t counting on it yet. We started planning to wait it out until morning, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t make the night at that temperature. I think I was hyperventilating, or something that was making me breathe very rapidly, and because of that my mouth and throat were getting really dry. I kept going to the shore and drinking out of the river to try and wet my whistle, but I would just puke it back up. I didn’t mind, because at least there was moisture in there.
By now it was really dark, and I was getting worried and just wanted to lay down, but Aaron was able to keep his wits about him enough to hear a boat in the dark. I couldn’t hear anything but blood pounding in my ears and him whistling. I’ve never been so glad to be with a person who whistled so loud in my life, because all of a sudden he saw a light on the water where he had heard the boat downstream, and when he whistled again, their spotlight started searching in our direction. He yelled to me to get up and wave my brightly coloured life jacket in the air, and I happily obliged. They came a bit closer and killed the engine, and Aaron let out another high-pitched tweet. The spotlight hit us that time and the engine fired back up and started heading towards us. I have to admit that I could never see the appeal of riverboats, but after that night I had a new found love for any craft that can run through rapids, sandbars and rocks, and not sink. When the boat thrust up onto the shore with the two RCMP officers in the bow, and my new boss driving, I almost cried, I was so happy. I may have really cried, I don’t know. I do know I hugged Rich Brown and the constables for saving us, and Rich gave me his survival coat to keep me as warm as possible as well as the welding tube full of our things that they had found on their way up. I felt like I should have went out and got a girl pregnant, just to give them my first born, that’s how happy I was.
It turns out that the people that were having a fire at the landing, saw the canoe go by upside down, and called 911. While the police were rounding up Rich and his boat, and making their way to us, one of the folks at the top of the cliff had called in to say he thought there was someone trapped below his house. I am forever indebted to those people, because I honestly believe I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for them. We were taken back to the landing where the fire was still going, and I stayed by the fire until the ambulance got there moments later. We went back to Aaron’s after the paramedics got us fixed up and his wife and son were more than a little happy to see him, as he was elated to see them.I had a hot bath and put on some dry clothes, but I was still having troubles with my lungs, so I ended up getting taken in to Fort St. John hospital and got something called a nebulizer to dry the water and crap out of my lungs. I guess my kidneys took a bit of a beating as well, but they were still working fine and I was alive, so what more could you ask for?
I was going to go looking for the canoe the next day, but to tell you the truth, I didn’t have it in me. Aaron said that if I got the canoe back, he was going to buy it off of me and burn it. I think he probably would have, but I wouldn’t have charged him for it. I went out with my friend Randy, who is a very experienced canoodler, to get back in and try it again the next week. We did it, and I’m glad I did, but I have to admit I was pretty shaky until I found out that you can go across the river and the rapids are minimal there. Hindsight, eh? Ah well, what’s done is done, and there’s no point in analyzing it to death. Where we went through was bad, but it wasn’t treacherous. We were ill prepared, and uninformed. We shouldn’t have gone in there without knowing what lay ahead of us, and we should have had our life jackets on, instead of laying in the canoe. I don’t think either of us will make that mistake again, and I hope you never do either.
I think it’s safe to say that the experience that day changed our lives. I still don’t believe in God though, but think Aaron might have gained a bit of faith.I know he quit smoking because it was one more thing that might prevent him from spending every possible moment with his family. I imagine he’s a lot more careful around water too. I know my outlook changed drastically. I no longer waste time on stupid shit, and I try to enjoy every moment I can, because you never know when it might be your last. This weekend at Thanksgiving, I think I’ll raise my glass to my pal Aaron, and give thanks that I had him with me that day. I can’t think of too many people I’d rather have in my corner when the chips are down, so here’s to you my friend. I credit you, most of all for us surviving that day.
Make sure you look after each other,
I guess it’s no secret that I’m a little bit scatterbrained. I forget shit all the time, sometimes it’s important shit, but mostly it’s just stupid shit. I forget my cell phone, wallet, condoms, lunch, the list goes on and on. I think if you ask my right hand man, he’ll tell you I’m the most forgetful driver at work. I forget bills of lading, directions and I forgot to hand in log sheets, for two and a half months straight. I’ve always been like that, I don’t know why, I just am.
The question I asked myself today was this: How have I made it so far in life? I’ve forgotten to not jump off of bridges, cliffs and rooftops, I’ve also forgotten to not smash up and roll several vehicles, some at high rates of speed. I’ve forgotten to test ice thickness on a few occasions, and that just because there’s meat on your arm, doesn’t mean you should run it through a meat slicer. A couple of times I’ve forgotten that drugs are bad, to only drink in moderation, and sometimes you should just keep your mouth shut, no matter the injustices that are being demonstrated. I’ve forgotten to stay out of shotgun range while duck hunting, and running swiftly through the woods in a brown jacket isn’t a smart thing to do during deer season.
I guess I’m just lucky when it comes to staying alive. What other explanation is there? Maybe God has been trying really hard to prove his existence to me? He’s up there yelling “What the fuck does it take to convince this simple bastard?”
Yeah? Well too bad God, it’s going to take a lot more than that, you spiteful bastard.
C’mon really, has anyone read the Old Testament? He hated anyone that wasn’t an Israelite and ordered their death. It’s cool though, they deserved it. I don’t know how I got back onto the topic of religion, but while I’m here we might as well run with it. The Old Testament (from here on in the OT) tells us that we can just go and marry anyone by telling them that God told us to. It also promotes incest with several key bible folk, but I’m going to focus on Lot and his dirty daughters, because I have a picture of those handsome wenches getting their old man all hammered up and going to town on him. Well, it maybe isn’t that descriptive, but just imagine the scene.
Hold on a second, according to the OT, Lot was so drunk “he was not aware of it when she lay down or when she got up.”[v.33,35]. Now I’m no expert, but I do have a bit of experience with getting drunk and trying to have the intercourse with women. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but take a look at his daughters. I’d have a hard time getting it up sober, let alone with such a belly full of wine that I was unable to figure out my big-shouldered daughter was climbing aboard the ship to motherhood. You know if Hell exists I’m going there, so I should probably wrap this up now, but the way I see it, is that if you believe in God, you are probably a deviant.
Hahahaha, I kid. I just like getting you bastards going, you know, turn the tables a bit. Alright, that’s all I have to say, so get back to praying for my soul.
Kiss an angel good morning,
P.S. I’m told that when you get really high, this is extremely funny, so if you need a bit of good weed call 555-5555 and ask for Dave. Tell him you want the harvest special.