I know I said that the next post would have chicken intestine and fetus ingestion, but the camera is all the way upstairs. In my current state of shameful laziness upstairs and the moon are psychologically equidistant from my bloated carcass. As such, "This Week in Disgust" will have to wait.
The search for a job/career has begun. I've scoured the government websites, Workopolis, JobBank, and other similar sites. While there are a lot of jobs that I am technically qualified for, none are particularly appealing. Scientific research on Sable Island doesn't exactly raise my blood pressure. If I were to conduct scientific research for six months on a treeless horse-infested scrap of land, I'd end up spending most of my time figuring out a way to not go insane and kill my coworkers. When this inevitably failed I'd devote the remaining time to concocting a triple murder-suicide scheme that would leave Sherlock Holmes scratching his head and profiling the horses. I'm talking about a plan so devious and perfect that they'd have to fly in Angela Landsbury. I don't know if she's dead or not, and I'm too lazy to Google it. If she turns out to be dead I guess they could just watch the first few seasons of Murder She Wrote and take notes.
Sable Island is out but I'll be scanning the websites regularly for any interesting or highly paid positions (ie. astronaut) and continue to write about it.
I realize that I haven't been posting very much and I plan to remedy this. It's not that I've been overly busy, but rather that I've just been spending time seeing the people and doing the things that I couldn't for the past six months (Read: Rock Band). Unsurprisingly, there hasn't been much of a need for adjustment to life on this side of the world. I have lived here the past 27 years, so there's really not much to get used to. With that being said, here are three needless complaints.
1) It's fucking cold!
I'm positive there's been a time in my life when I have been colder, absolutely certain. I can conjure up memories of freezing my ass off in the woods, but not the actual feelings of being cold, so these reminiscences have been altogether useless in preparing me for this frozen, barren, lifeless wasteland. Five below isn't even that cold. I know this. But, my body and brain do not give one iota of a shit about what I know and what I feel.
Complete and total cognitive dissonance.
Also, I have uncovered some foolish conspiracy to make me cold and keep me cold. Has it become socially unsavory, a faux-pas if you will, to turn a thermostat to the right? I was always under the impression that buildings were supposed to protect and shelter you from the elements, not faithfully simulate them in the (dis)comfort of your own home. All I’m going to say is this: When the folks come home one day and see me warming my hands by the smoldering black gutted remnants of the tool shed they aren’t getting an explanation, just a small shrug and a “My Hands Were Tied” look.
2) Rock Band
In between looking for a job and getting shamefully drunk I’ve managed to sink an unreasonable amount of time into Rock Band, usually with Andy and Sweetapple acting as enablers. I can see myself noticeably improving on drums, and, like anything I suppose, this motivates me to further improve. It’s a vicious, wonderful cycle. In fact, I’ll go above saying that I’m good on (fake plastic) drums now. I’ll boldly say that I’m fucking great. When someone calls you an “idiot savant” you know you’re doing something right. I think I realized the true gravity of my situation last night when I belted out “Roxanne” and “Mr. Brightside”...on vocals. That’s the equivalent of getting high by smoking a teabag in a receipt. In an uncharacteristic display of self-control and discipline, I plan to go a week without turning it on. The cocaine-heroin dust hybrid released into the atmosphere and up my nose upon striking the drumhead with the drumstick will remain safely sealed in the device. I expect withdrawal symptoms and pangs of regret.
Pathetic.
3) $8.00 for McDonald’s is Outrageous
I don’t have much to elaborate on here. Money goes farther in the Philippines. This is directly correlated with the fact that: a) I was getting paid in Canadian currency, b) The Philippines is a poor country, and c) as a result of (b), the Filipino Peso is a joke. I could get a Big Mac meal with all the trimmings for a cool three Filipino Fun Bux. This is no longer possible. Logic aside, McDonald’s is a shitty restaurant with shitty food for shitty people. The natural progression here would be to assume the prices are also shitty, and that would be correct. Fuck you Ronald. Fuck you Grimace and Mayor McCheese and Birdie and the Nugget Buddies and all those other clowns. I could swallow your prices with a smile on my face and grease on my lip in the Philippines, but no more.
I’ve grown as a person.
That’s all for now. Stay tuned!
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment