To quote the scriptures “No man should carve a hole in his own home, for this is a sinful act punishable by fire and total immasculation. Furthermore, if you have to carve a hole in your own home, do it at Seven O’Clock so God will be busy watching primetime television and won’t notice.”

That’s real scripture. Look it up.

Beyond that, nothing to say. So go away.

Giants are real! It turns out they’re twenty feet tall and live in castles with doors too small for them to get out. That’s why you haven’t met any giants.

Anyhow, I am totally enjoying not being at work for a while. But I’ve now hit the days where I would have been off anyway and realize how much I really, really just don’t want to go back. But I’ve said enough about that, I’m sure.

Haiku!

Brigands in the cave!
Don’t walk past the cave, you fool.
They want to rob you.

I don’t know how to fix Contains2. The Internet doesn’t like me. And since Marq has zero interest in looking into it, I guess it’s just screwed. How fun for me.

I have the next five nights off. Now, it isn’t as awesome as it sounds considering that two of those days I have to spend at some stupid safety course and two more of those nights are my usual weekend off, but I have to admit I am very pleased to be away from the company for the longest break I’ve had in FIVE YEARS. I really don’t want to go back. Or to the course…

I do intend to get some new writing done, but I brought back a Contains2 article today because the subject matter, traveling has been on my mind of late. I wish I could do some, but I’m not. It makes me sad. I also wants to quit my job. But I’m not. It makes me sad. I’m sad.

I’ve taken to looking at want ads in the paper and on the Internets. None of the jobs appeal to me. Looking up the various charities in the city I see very few jobs that I am qualified for (ie. I don’t have the degrees and stuff), would want to do (ie. I’d have to talk to people and crap) or are in the city (apparently Montreal is in desperate need of people working with charities, though). Looking at jobs that aren’t with charities, I just get depressed about this world we have going on.

I’ve been very mopey this last while. It’s all really pathetic.

I’ll think of something tomorrow.

I find myself in the exact same state I was last time. Treading water. Stagnating. It sucks. I’ve wanted to quit my job for, what, four and a half years? And I just don’t have the balls to do it. I remember when I used to go through jobs every couple months. I liked that better. I’ve taken to buying lottery ticks every couple weeks. I know it’s slim hope for freedom, but it is some hope that I could free myself from the “system”. I can say I would be a kickass multi-millionaire, though. I’ve totally mapped out what I would do with the money and I think it’s all pretty good. Certainly better than what I’m doing now.

What I really need to do is some writing. It’s been way too long. Perhaps I should just sit down tomorrow and pump out some piece of nonsense like I used to. For now:

Haiku!

Planet Mercury!
It goes around the sun fast.
It is such a chump.

The Contains2 server is still not working. I’m at a loss. I’d like to have it all moved over to the same server I use for this one but I’m completely ignorant of how to do it. They really need to make some changes to how the Internet works.

Finally your horoscope for today: Beware of good things. They may be bad things in disguise. Accept bad things, because they’re probably actually good things. Also, go check your mail. I sent you a bomb. It’s totally going to be a bad thing.

On the plus side, I now know that I can knock open a door if I have to. The downside consists of our door now being broken. But it was broken when I broke it, so it’s all good. The little metal bit that goes into the hole to keep the whole thing shut isn’t there any more, so I guess we’ll have to use the lock as a means of holding the door shut. How sad. I really don’t care for locks.

In other news, yesterday I was questioned by someone about my accent again. A little old lady in my building wondered if I was English and then someone who I know slightly better admitted that they thought I was English for a while too. So add that to the times people thought I was French or from the American South or a generic “American” sounding. I honestly don’t know how I talk, but I kinda enjoy that it confuses everyone. I’m sticking with the theory that since I declared my independance I’ve developed my own accent.

Moving from the style I speak to the content of what I say I must recall a conversation with Marq from a few days back. I was all “Don’t you listen when I talk?” and he replied “Well, two thirds of what you say is about gay sex, so no…” and I could not fault him for it.