Cheyco > Blog

After doing complete reinstalls of thier respective operating systems, my windows boxes seem to have a relativley clean bill of health. I still can't seem to share my internet connection though... I love Windows. Don't laugh Grant.

Speaking of Grant, he has recently been thinking of upgrading the 86ish Accord with a new shiny smells-for-a-completely-different-reason car. What asked what he fancies, it often differes from week to week, thus no action can be taken to remedy his urge. The problem is not that he is indecisive, but that there are really no new cars at the moment that represent his style (you gotta meet this guy). Solution = Find some wacky, odd-ball used classic. Buckminster Fuller designed a car if I'm not mistaken, and I know I'm not. I also saw a cool rotary powered Mazda stationwagon from the mid seventies the other day. Anyway we can't all be lucky enough to have the car of your dreams thrust upon you in a hangover-induced, rally-inspired vision... I feel your pain.

The dump didn't really smell all that dumpy today. Mind you, the last time I was there it was the hottest day of the year, and that was nooooo good.

Well, let's see. The last time I had my hair cut was a few days before Christmas. The girls at "Clips" remembered me, and I was flattered. I think I may have had around three or four haircuts there - the only ones I've had in the last two-and-a-half years. Having short hair again is going to change the type of roles I will be cast for, hopefully this means fewer female characters. Gone are my glorious flowing curls, here is my Johnny Lunchpail, Joe Sixpack average buzz.



It will grow back.

Nearly a week ago I found out that my oldest sister reads this blog. I was both flattered and embarrased (mostly because of Julie).
I have however, decicded that the knowledge of the fact that my friends and family may read this, will not disrupt my journalistic integrity.

The truth must be told!

"My mouth has become the world of Chen Kenichi!"

Things have been so busy at work I have hardly had a chance to blog... Either that or nothing interesting happens to me.

Sprigger - one that sprigs.

Safe to use in scrabble.

The back of my Scrabble dictionary says "Endorsed by the National Scrabble Association for recreational and school use." I don't want to catch anyone using it for business, is that understood?

Holding drop side with release action #5 towards inside of crib, insert dropside rod #3 through the following sequence top rail of drop side bracket #2, bottom of drop side bracket #1, bolt drop side rod #3 with machine screw #4. Repeat process for other side.

I think it loses something in the translation...

"It didn't make me gag." Lisa doesn't respond well to experimental cooking. All I did was use bacon instead of ground beef in a spaghetti sauce, I thought it was dee-lish.

Well, after a day of silence for the recent events, it's time to start my meagre attempts at relating life's ironies. Take this one for exaple; In the year we have lived in this house, there has never been a report of a bird hitting any of our windows. Yesterday - one week after getting new windows - a bird flew smack-dab into the middle of our bedroom viewport. The window's integrity was intact, the bird's was not. Let this be a lesson to all you people who clean your windows...

Happy First Birthday Neville. For his big day he recieved a new stuffed duck. The old one, affectionatly known as "The Paint-roller of Drool," will be destroyed in a medical waste incinerator.

Well, I painted the baby's room tonight. The color of choice is called Monet's Garden. If that description is not accurate enough, it's kind of a greenish turqoise. One may question the judgment used to select a color named after a blind impressionist, but I remind the jury he was near-sighted, not color-blind.

"Hey Claude, reach into the cooler and grab me another brewskie."
"Oui, voila."
"Hey, this isn't a beer, it's a chicken."
"Pardon moi."

The garden was touched by frost this weekend. It's time to dig out the woollies I fear.

Beer, it's what's for dinner.

After entirely too long, the upstairs biffy is now fully functional. Today as I stood admiring my handywork with paint roller proffered and Big Sugar's rendition of Oh Canada blasting on the phonograph set, dare I say I had a tear-jerking patriotic moment.

Next stop: baby's room.

Hello kiddies, I think the most annoying thing about getting anything that has been used by someone else, has to be the way it has been used. This is often only a problem if the person didn't know what the hell they were doing. This rant stems from my house. The people who had this place before us didn't know a dang thing about home repairs or improvments ie. a simple job like removing blinds becomes an arduous 45 minute battle because the dough-head hwo put them up used four different types of screws and stripped the heads of half of them. I could go on for a really long time about this but I tire of my own persnikityness, I will say that my favorite is the fact that they built some cedar decks in the backyard using a hammer and nails. This would normally not be that big of a problen except that they used a framing hammer, you know the ones with the waffle texture on the head? So around every nail (and sometimes far from any nail) there are little round waffles permanently stamped into the wood. It looks really sharp!

Ugh.

I have decided that The computer desk I recenly completed contruction on, no longer satisfies my needs. Thus I shall add another section. I will call it "Section 2." Noble, don't you think?

This evening I learned that David Hasselhoff guest starred on The Love Boat, and he got to nail Julie. It's not enough that he has stolen the rest of my dreams (the german mega rock-star and driving K.I.T.T. -- oh, and that baywatch thing) and now this. It never rains, but it pours...

The guys who are putting new windows in my house ripped the cable out of the wall today... It is obviously working again, though I will need to run a new line, or do something eqaully dreadful.

Hmmm, that seems like a rather dreary outlook. In other news I am having rouladen for supper. Yum.

Another sidenote about that trip; It was my understanding that I was to leave the city Satruday morning around 10am to get to the rig in tome for the job. At abot 8:45am I recieved a phoncall from my superior (understand also that my cellphone is forwarded to the house when I am home)...
"Hello?"
"Hi Matt, where are you?"
"In my kitchen." No alarm bells going off.
"Aren't you going?" Tiny distant klaxon sounds.
"Yes." Klaxon growing louder.
"Why haven't you left yet?" Ear-splitting, gut wrenching, do-the-batoosie alarm sounds.
"Beacause I don't have to leave untill ten?"
"You need to be there at ten. Saddle-up...."

It takes 7.5hrs to get to Grande Cache from here, needless to say, I did not make it.

I was not in trouble with the bosses though. Ironically, as the supervisor, I am the only non-essential personnel.

Can one person be personnel?

Well, I'm back from the teeming metropolis of Grande Cache. For a town of about 3000 there sure are a lot of liquor stores...

As I was only there for a very short time I didn't really get to know the vibe of the place. I did learn about the death races wich are held there. In the summer you must run 40km through the mountains. In the fall you must mountainbike 100km again through brutally tough terrain. In the winter (and I think this would be the worst of them all) it is required that you snowshoe 25km over a mountain. I was going to get a t-sirt for my collection, but at $29.99 (reduced from $39.99) they were too rich for my blood.

"Mr. Scott, I trust you mean that they vanished in a manner wich is not consistent with the usual operation of the transporter..."
-Mr. Spock

No duh, Spock.

Well I started playing Half-life Blue shift and it's almost as good as the original. For those of you out there who don't game, Half-life is a first person shooter. The difference from other FPSs is that the programmers actually had a story written by a real horrer novelist to work with. Instead of just running around killing (though there is plenty of that) the game grabs you and continually scares the crap out of you with an excellent blend of action and plot.

No I don't work for them.

It looks like I'll be going to Grand Cache tomorrow. I'll be back in a couple of days, no doubt with some good stories to tell. Or naught.