Leeuwenhoek had stolen and peeped into the fantastic sub-visible world of little things, creatures that had lived, had bred, had battled, had died, completely hidden from and unknown to all men from the beginning of time. Beasts these were of a kind that ravaged and annihilated whole races of men ten million times larger than they were themselves. Beings these were, more terrible than fire-spitting dragons or hydra-headed monsters. They were silent assassins that murdered babies in warm cradles and kings in sheltered places. It was this invisible, insignificant, but implacable-and sometimes friendly- world Leeuwenhoek had looked into for the first time of all men of all countries. ~Microbe Hunters

Monday, 28 May 2012

Squares who like squares

I worked incredibly hard for the past few weeks, painting up my car, Penelope, and putting the final mechanical touches for the derby. This is the first day that I have actually been able to sit down for a few minutes after work and go on the computer. The first thing I did was check my billing information and make sure everything is going smoothly with my utilities. Then I applied for a MasterCard; the one with Airmiles. Then I applied for Airmiles. Then I checked my blogs. Lots of exciting things have been happening around here, but so many that I don't have time to document them. I don't use the blog as a procrastination technique anymore because I have nothing to procrastinate.

I do have one interesting finding that I thought the world should know. Schomberg Fair attendees are mostly square. I googled "square" on UrbanDictionary, and it means lame. I may have interpreted that definition a bit, but nonetheless, they are square. Why? They like boxes.


I painted my Sunflower with super awesome Looney Tunes characters and spent a lot of time perfecting each one. I coated it with polyurethane, the hardwood floor sealer, and I even painted their eyes with a glow-in-the-dark gloss the night before the races.

Princess, the girl whom I know not their name but know they like pink, painted her car pink. Then she stuck a pink box on the top, taped a few pink Gatorade bottles on the box, and called it a `Transformer`.

Guess who won best paint job and, hint, IT WASN'T ME.

It appears that people who attended the Schomberg fair, and did not vote for my magnificent, hand-drawn paint job, are squares because they like squares.

My car. It even got posted to Twitter by the MC before the races it was so awesome.
Princess' car. Even though you are supposed to ONLY have your number on the white driver's side door...
Oh well, I'm not so bitter about it, because it wouldn't even start to move it out of the ring so she couldn't compete in the demo part. My mechanic is better. Love you daddy <3. 4th place overall is pretty good, but we'll get 'em next time :)

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

There's this thing...

There is this thing called 'friends'. This optical illusion is of people who are super awesome and are totally down for making fun of life along side you. You know, friends? Like peanut butter and jelly- both sticky substances that once it gets on you it will never leave you alone. Or like the floor which is always there for you when you fall. Or maybe they are like the kitchen sink that can catch all your bodily fluids and help clean the dishes way longer than a dishwasher would take.

It has been raining here a lot recently, I think they fell down the drain. They were swiped from right under their feet into the gross sewage system where they were eaten up by the monster called A JOB and his side-kick I CANT BOOK IT OFF.

Now, I have a job, too, but I still make time for me. How could I not? I am super cool.

Anyways, the point of this short sad story is, I am going to be crashing my car that I worked so hard at fixing for the Demolition Derby and none of my friends will be there to watch my hard work go up in flames- literally.


Darn good and sure of it,


Thursday, 3 May 2012

Brutal Murder

Yesterday, two people were found dead at a hotel in the City that I work in. I suspect the were found cheating and one of their partners murdered them, but this is besides the point. This kind of thing just doesn't happen around here, so I will call these shenanigans the 'Vegas Event' for lack of better place it would happen.

A lot of things made me jumpy today: Neener (the girl I work with) ran over a pylon, I was walking around in a lightning storm in a field with a metal pole (aka litter picker), and Neener already lost the truck keys twice. Also, since the 'Vegas Event' yesterday, the whole City and surrounding area have begun crazy conversation over it. The killer could still be on the loose (duhduhDUHHH).

As I was picking litter downtown today, I saw in the distance a little highlighter walking briskly (highlighters= our uniforms of bright yellow shirts with reflective safety tape). Neener, all of a sudden, was in my face and looked as if she was about to cry.

"I just witnessed a brutal murder," she said, whilst choking and bawling and dripping snot all over the children playing nearby.

First thought: A homeless drug addict killed a homeless alcoholic.

Second though: Do I call the police?

Third though: Oh damn, all these kids just heard that there was a murder, there is going to be mass chaos downtown on the first real day, and I am going to get fired.

Neener walked away and I followed her jumping at her for answers. We walked- I walked, she sobbed-  until we were about to climb down under a bridge. Hesitating, I followed her. I still don't know where my brain was at as I would probably yell at myself if I were watching this drama play out in a movie.

There it was. The dead thing. It was a duckling.

It was a brutal murder.

I picked up the carcass with my litter picker and placed it into my bucket full of litter. When I turned around, I noticed the crowd of children and their guardians gathering to see the commotion of this "brutal murder". Still, no one knowing that the murder was not of human nature. I covered the teeny animal body with a Timmies cup I found in my bucket, and explained that everything was okay, and we were sorry about the confusion.

Pretty sure, I'm fired for making 32524376289 people think there was another murder.

Darn good and sure of it,


Tuesday, 1 May 2012

Summer: Day One

Talking with one of my coworkers is like the bitter chocolate that my grandmother bakes with. If you  combine it with other ingredients and let it bake for a while, it can get pretty good. However, if you try and choke it down by its self, its dull flavour leaves you running for a drink to swallow the last bit. In my case, the drink is hard liquor.

Although I don't know which 'crew' I am on for the summer yet, I kind of have an idea. Washrooms. The only problem is, I will be working for 8.5 hours a day, 5 days a week, for 4 months with a girl named Neener. I can tell you this, Neener is not that exciting of a person. 

Other crews of three change work sites daily, and sometimes join up with other crews to do projects and stuff, but the washroom crew doesn't. They clean toilets, then pick litter along Lakeshore. Because we don't join up with other people, we have to be able to entertain ourselves and get along really well. We don't have other people to communicate with to keep us from getting tired of each other.

Last yer, the girl I worked with, Pedro, was the absolute greatest person end working with her was so much fun. I know people like her dont come around too often- people who sing children's songs to me, scoop human feces out of a toilet with a spade, and play with the toys we find. 

Now, I might have to spend my hours listening to the latest crushes Neener has, or the dumbest jokes, and whatever else she talks about when I'm not listening. 

I just dont like people who talk too much. Talking should have a threshold, especially if you are not exciting to listen to. I am going to implement the 'cue card system' in which we each chose a cue card and discus what is written. That way, I will have some intellectual conversation pointers, and my IQ will not fall 10 points by the end of the summer!

Darn good and sure of it,