m o n k e y ' s . t y p e w r i t e r

Our old 14-inch monitor on our family computer finally kicked the bucket. At random it decides to make the screen go pink. It gave me a good excuse to order myself a new 19-inch Samsung from Compucentre, and I'll be passing my own 17-inch to the other machine.

I'll be a poor man, but poor man with lotsa desktop. Woohoo.

I'm starting to think that what I have isn't really allergies after all. More like a cold or something. I spend most of last night sneezing and blowing my nose, and I'm still miserable. I finally broke down and took some Allegra, though I'm not sure it will help matters.

For one thing, all we have is the non-drowsy stuff. Someone won't be sleeping well tonight. That same someone is going to be very cranky in the morning.

I had a little pow-wow with my boss today. Nothing bad, just a talk she has with every new employee with a few months of starting. Mostly the discussion was about my workload and what direction I was heading with my job (in the short-term). It was pretty good; it was an opportunity to let her know that in the weeks of the month that we're not doing month-end, I'm basically sitting around twiddling my thumbs. She agreed that I I'm ready to take on more responsibility, they just didn't want to overwhelm me in my first couple months of work.

The feedback she's given me was that they were happy with my work so far, especially with my automation of processes (I'm the only one there that knows how to use MS Access) and the project I took on redesigning the department web page. I'm just glad I've managed not to piss anybody off too much yet.

So with more work coming, it looks like no more blogging from my desk any more. Time to make myself useful.

Ceciiiiiilia, you're breaking my heart
You're shaking my confidence baaaaby...

My allergies have kicked in again. My nose has been dripping like a faucet and the Kleenex beside my bed has grown into a small mountain. That, and the sneezing and watery eyes makes for a very miserable Sanjay.

That was a fun weekend. Camping was with my guy friends from Oakville, and Kelsey. It was typical guy�s camping. Our supplies consisted of tents, sleeping bags, baseball stuff and two large coolers (for beer) and one small cooler bag (food). Oh, and a canoe big enough to comfortably seat two with plenty of room in the middle for drinks.

We were really roughing it, too. Two of our three meals came from the Harvey�s down the street. We did manage to start a camp fire without first emptying an entire bottle of camp fuel on the wood, however. That was a first.

The only thing that sucked was the rain in the morning. I had left the shoes outside of our tent and when I went to bring them inside, a puddle of water came with me soaking a sleeping bag and blanket. Stupid nature.

It was good to get back to civilization again, but for some reason I�m dead tired. This always happens to me when I come back from camping. I�ll sleep well tonight.

Last time for the summer. Going up to Bingeman's (Kitchener), returning tomorrow. Have a great weekend.

While we're on the topic, here's the newer, more efficient version of the Microsoft Keyboard, optimized for current operating systems.

Hehehe. Windows RG... the Really Good version. Trish posts links so rarely that when she does, it's definitely worth checking out. Be sure to fool around with the Start button and desktop icons!

Eight out of 10 women in Sweden aren't getting enough sex, according to this article I read. Two-thirds have cheated on their partners, and the same proportion have slept with a man on the first date.

If this continues unchecked, these poor unfortunate souls will wander their nation aimlessly trying to quench their thirst for carnal pleasure. Sadly, this tragedy is both curable and preventable.

Swedish Horny Women In Need of Gratification (S.H.W.I.N.G.) is a non-profit organization dedicated to helping these women lead healthy, erotic lives. I have personally volunteered my services and will be trying to help as many of these needy as I can.

Celibacy can be beaten, but not without your help.

For just a few dollars a day, you can help S.H.W.I.N.G. provide airfare, hotel and transportation necessary for me to help these women begin their healing process. And for sponsorship of a Swedish woman, you will receive your very own poster and video showing you exactly how much of a difference you are making in her life, weeks before it is ever released on the Internet.

Please call S.H.W.I.N.G. today. Operators are standing by.

I had the afternoon off work today. One of our co-workers is leaving the department and we had a get-together to say farewell. (Kinda funny since she's only moving two floors down.)

We went out for lunch and then did some mini-putt on the course behind Playdium in Mississauga. I'd have to say that is the hardest 18 holes I've ever done. On any given shot it seemed like the ball was as likely to leave the course as not, and when it did it was impossible to place the ball again because of the lack of flat surface. There were also sandtraps deep enough to swallow a small car. I almost traded in my putter for a shovel.

It got to the point where I gave up on finesse and started wailing away at the ball. As a courtesy I'd yell "fore!" before taking my swing, but I guess the kids in the go-karts next to us couldn't hear me. It's a good thing they wear helmets.

Yesterday a Quebec athlete was stripped of his medal at the Canada Games when he mooned his teammates from the podium. Officials said that the act was an �unsportsmanlike gesture�. They were being a bit hard on him, I think. Like every other medalist to step up to the podium, this guy was just demonstrating how well his hardware was hung.

Kelsey bought this for me the other day. Soon you'll be able to add another member to the Harry Potter cult.

It's 2:30 am and I can't for the life of me fall sleep. Guess that's my fault for napping after dinner this evening. In my state of insomnia I finally got around to linking Darn it all to Heck. Chris, I tried to find a better picture, but what you gave me is the best I've got to work with. Sorry, dude.

I hate border guards. Well, American ones anyway. Since I met Kelsey I'd been across to New York State quite a few times, as half of her family lives over there. Yesterday the guard we happened to come across was a lady whose sneer seemed a permanent fixture on her face. Previously each time I went across, my driver's license was sufficient to get me though, but this time she demanded "proof of citizenship", meaning birth certificate or passport.

When she found out I didn't have it on me, she began a lecture on how the United States was a different country than the one I was coming from and yadda yadda yadda. As if someone living in Canada would ever try to smuggle themselves in to the States. After her rant she made us open the trunk, like my lack of a birth certificate automatically made me a drug dealer. Satisfied that the spare tire couldn't be rolled or inhaled she eventually let us go.

Stupid hoser.

Yesterday Kelsey surprised me with a trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake for some horseback riding. It was lots of fun, even though the rain made the animals stink. Kinda like wet dog, only bigger and wetter.

I shouldn�t have marked on the sheet that I was a beginner. They gave us the old and slow horses that showed about as much interest in moving as I do when waking up with a hangover. Kelsey�s was even slower than mine, though. My horse spent the first half of the trip with her face buried in Kelsey�s horses ass. It reminded me of being stuck in the fast lane on the QEW behind a minivan with one of those �Baby on Board� signs dangling from the back window.

Although most of the journey was down narrow pathways through the woods, there was occasionally a break from the trees. It was my chance to open her up and see what this beast could do. Unfortunately for all of the digging did with my heels into her flanks, this pony might as well have had �Hyundai� stamped across her backside.

Next time I go (and there will be a next time) I�ll be sure to let them know that Kelsey and I are expert riders so we can get some decent horseflesh. And I�m coming equipped with a Stetson, some shitkickers with spurs and a belt buckle the size of a small toaster. Yee haw.

Ha. Reamed. I had to steal this from Trick.

I just came back from a party tonight. One of the strangest I've been to. I didn't really know anyone there, but that isn't usually a problem. It just lacked the whole "party" atmosphere for some reason. I was planning to stay the night but I ended up leaving at 11pm.

I guess the high point of the night was me almost killing everyone. Somehow by process of elimination I was put to barbecue. At the time it was mostly girls there, and they didn't want to do it cuz their costumes were flammable (don't ask). So me and another guy set to doing the burgers.

Since my parents don't eat red meat I'm not used to seeing hamburgers on the grill and hence wasn't really sure how long they take to cook. I did have enough sense to know that there shouldn't be any pink showing. Before serving them I cut into one to make sure it was brown. Unfortunately I didn't take into account the fact that one side of the grill could have been hotter than the other, and a lot of them were still undercooked. There were a lot of dirty looks directed at me tonight.

Emily, The hostess of the party, actually got sick. No one openly attributed it to my cooking, but there was speculation I'm sure. Then she went and compounded her illness by drinking Pepto Bismol that had expired seven years ago. Nothing should be aged that long unless you can buy it at a liquor store, and I'm sure that at some point tonight an ambulance will be pulling up that driveway.

So the moral of the story is don't let Sanjay anywhere near where food is being prepared, even on a barbecue. You might not live to regret it.

I'm listening to Sheryl Crow's rendition of "Sweet Child o' Mine". Some songs were just not meant to be tampered with.

There's a guy next door funnelling beer from a keg at a party full of high-schoolers. His count had gotten up to a hundred before I left the window. Ah, the good ole days...

I heard on the news this morning that doctors managed to impregnate a sixty year-old woman--using donated eggs and other things I don't want to get into--creating a new world record. What I'm interested in is when she starts breastfeeding. All she'll have to do is lift her skirt.

I have nothing to do. Ablsolutely nothing. I showed up late, took a two and a half hour lunch and I'm leaving at 4pm, right after my meeting's over.

Maybe I'm just efficient. (Ya right.) I did spend five hours of my own time last night finishing up the department web page I had been working on the last month or so, so I don't feel so bad having nothing to do here. I just wish the days didn't drag by so slowly, especially with the good weather we've been having.

I think it's about time for a Tim Horton's run. That should eat up a good half hour or so. Maybe getting lost on the way back won't be a bad idea, either.

An Ontarian wanted to become a Newfie (ie. a Newfoundlander). He went to a neurosurgeon and asked "Is there anything you can do to me that would make me into a Newfie?"

"Sure, it's easy." replied the neurosurgeon. "All I have to do is cut out 1/3 of your brain, and you'll be a Newfie." The Ontarian was very pleased, and immediately underwent the operation.

The surgeon's knife slipped however, and instead of cutting out 1/3 of the patient's brain, the surgeon accidentally cut out 2/3 of the patient's brain. He was terribly remorseful, and waited impatiently beside the patient's bed as the patient recovered from the anesthetic. As soon as the patient was conscious, the neurosurgeon said to him "I'm terribly sorry, but there was a ghastly accident. Instead of cutting out 1/3 of your brain, I accidentally cut out 2/3 of your brain."

The patient replied "Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit, monsieur?"

While reading Jon's weblog I came across a post about his train striking and killing a twenty-something year-old pedestrian during rush hour this morning. Curious about it I went looked up the story, but The Star's account of it was still kind of vague.

What I'm wondering is how someone actually gets hit by a train these days. Cyclist killed yesterday in a hit & run, I can understand. Two cars collide, I understand. Even newly-licensed driver running into a pole with her dad's car, I can understand.

Grown man walking into a speeding locomotive? Either he was doing it on purpose, or this is just another instance of natural selection running its course.

The fine folks at Tim Horton's suggested mixing their Ice Cappucino with chocolate milk. I would strongly advise against it, unless you have a hankerin' for a stomach pump.

I have no luck. I drove the car through the wash yesterday (I didn't have time to do it properly.) No, it didn't rain. No, the birds didn't leave me a present on the roof. I did end up driving through a construction site though, at the intersection of Sixth Line and Leighland Ave. They were repaving the road and had the existing asphault all scraped up.

And the street sweeper happened to be cleaning up. Just as I drove by. While my car was still wet.

Why do I bother?

Sanjay, your Pok�name is: Vulorb

You live in the oceans of Asia, and your diet consists mostly of garbage, TV dinners and kerosene. You have a winning smile. You can throw slime. You have a covered wicker basket. You can shoot lightning bolts. You can throw 8-track tapes. You can spit fire. You can spit tahini. You have shiny red platform shoes. You can swim in jet fuel. Your natural enemy is Pikatle.

I saw American Pie 2 tonight, and it definitely lived up to my expecations. It had great soundtrack, an abundance of scantily-clad women and plenty of laughs. Definitely one to add to the DVD collection (*ahem*... when I eventually get one started).

Update on the sink drain: It appears to have fixed itself. More likely, mom did it (it's all the same to me anyway), because it happened to start working right after she cleaned the bathroom. My parents are not giving me very much incentive to move out anytime soon.

A lot of people have been bitching about the merger between TD and Canada Trust, or more about mergers in general. Well I just realized that I can see my Canada Trust account balance and my TD Visa balance on the same screen. (Seeing my Visa balance online wasn't even available through TD).

Though this feature is particularly depressing for me at the moment, thumbs-up to free enterprise, amalgomation and trimming away of fat.

Ken, this is the song I was talking about earlier.

I'm back. And damn am I tired. I went to bed at 5am last night and was up at around 9am to start packing up. Four hours of driving and two drop-offs later I walked in the front door of my house, only to begin the process of unpacking again. (Stace, if you're missing anything I found some of your stuff crammed into the nooks and crannies of my car.)

It was worth it though. Picture about 50 or 60 university kids taking over the entire section of a camp ground, playing with fire and filled with alcohol. Except for the anal retentive park security (the music couldn't be above a whisper even during the day) and some confusion on the way up, the weekend couldn't have been better.

At around 2am last night we started running out of wood for the camp fire. I don't know how, but somehow I found myself between the trees with a dying flashlight scanning the ground for anything that could burn. There was plenty of wood available, it just took awhile to find it. Given the state I was in there were times I had no idea where I was going, and wasn't exactly quiet about it either. I'm sure there was at least one small child up there who thought he'd be an appetizer for a bear.

Thanks to Tony for letting me try out his kayak. If they weren't so bloody expensvie I might pick one up myself.

Okay time to rehydrate some more and then off to bed for me. I have a feeling morning will arrive very fast.

Off camping. Have a great weekend!

I don't know what the hell is wrong with our bathroom sink. For the last two weeks the drain has been sluggish as, well, a slug. Today I gave up waiting for someone else to fix it and I brought home a bottle of Drano. An entire bottle later, nothing's changed. I'd really like to know exactly what it is that made its way down there and how its immune system--yes, I'm convinced it's alive--can repel even the strongest of chemicals I dump into the drain. I'm out of ideas. Any suggestions?

There's nothing like the freedom of the open road, especially in an empty car late at night. Tom Cruise isn't the only one who can belt out "Free Falling" at the top of his lungs.

Urg... trying to sleep but my bedroom is a sauna. The air coditioning has been off all weekend and it'll take a good 24 hours before it cools down again. Stupid energy conservation.

I'm back. And hot and sweaty and tired. And this is after my shower.

The weekend was pretty much what I expected it to be. A horrendously long drive up Hwy 400 to Bracebridge, five screaming kids under the age of six and shitty campsite selection (not a blade of grass and less than spitting distance to the neighbours). What's worse, due to the lack of rain this summer, campfires were banned. Completely. What's a camping excursion without a campfire?

At least I had my own tent. I was all unpacked and set up within an hour or so. Everyone else took until the evening to get everything settled, and complained when I sat comfortably sipping beer in my chair watching them do it. I wasn't the one who wanted running water and hydro.

I'm going again this weekend with SOCS (McMaster University organization) up to MacGregor Point. Rumour has it that the campfire ban is in effect all over Southern Ontario. I hope that's not the case. I'm actually looking forward to this trip.

My rant is over, and I've caught up on all of my blogs. Sleep time.

Is Dick Cheney Dead Yet?

My mom bought a tape deck/CD player to take with us on the camping trip. When she opened the box she found that there didn't seem to be a power cord, but she suspected it might be packaged inside the battery compartment. Unsure, she phoned my brother. He agreed with her.

Awhile later I came home from work and she asked me the same question. I told her to check the compartment. She asked me to do it because she didn't want to. (Probably couldn't find it.) Two seconds later, power cord found.

Later on she decided to plug it in and give it a try. She complained about a strange noise coming out of the speakers while fiddling around with the CD player. She thought it might be broken. It turns out that the strange noise was the radio; the station wasn't set.

I think there's something in our kitchen that leeches basic technical competency from stay-at-home moms. I'd blame it on a natural gas leak if our stove wasn't electric.

I got this email from Bombardier. I applied in October of last year.

August 2, 2001 Req. Number CAN-BUS-00-01-I

Dear Sir/Madam:
Further to your application for a position in the field of Business as part of our university recruitment, we regret to inform you that although your experience and skills are interesting, we are unable to offer you a position with our company at this time.

We will retain your profile in our database and inform you of jobs matching your criteria if you selected this option. We also invite you to visit our Web site regularly and apply online to other jobs that may interest you.

Thank you for your interest in Bombardier. We wish you every success in your job search.

Sincerely,
University Recruitment Team
Human Resources Department
Bombardier

Replies to this message are undeliverable and will not reach the Human Resource Department. Please do not reply.

Looks like Renee's come out of hibernation. Pocketsound is back up.

Ah, coffee. It's like liquid enthusiasm.

Happy birthday, bud.

Finished work a little earlier today, around 6:30 or so. My day wasn't any better than the last one however. More crap compressed into less time. If you're smart you'll stay clear. I'm still grouchy.

Last night I couldn't stop dreaming about work. I'd wake up and fall asleep again, only to have a different version of the same dream. The happened about three or four times before I finally had a "normal" dream. Unfortunately all of the people in it were my co-workers. Stupid subconscious.

Stace, in response to your question, if you're looking for a good restaurant I recommend the revolving one in the CN Tower. You can literally "sit and rotate".

Heh. I while changing my clothes tonight I noticed that my boxers happen to match the golf shirt I was wearing. I'd post a pic of this remarkable occurence, but me half-naked on my weblog might attract people who are only here for a glimpse of my perfectly sculpted torso, as opposed to the profound yet witty one-person dialog I provide my readers daily.

That, and I have chicken legs.

I was right. Today was a repeat of yesterday. Only longer. It wasn't that bad, I guess. A lot of the work I did last night allowed me to concentrate on other things today, so I'm actually ahead of schedule. Also, it turns out that a process I improved has cut down about 12 man-hours from month-end. Too bad most of those hours weren't mine.

We ordered Indian food for dinner tonight. I'm not sure why my co-workers insist on punishing themselves. I swear I saw steam coming from my boss' ears. I stood ready with the fire hose.

I think I might actually finish at a decent time tomorrow. Let's hope for no disasters...