Me and 'The Firm' - we're radioactive

Hey.

Long time - no see.

Hopefully this message makes it to the blog. I'm attempting to send it by email. I'm on vacation from work - where I publish the entries - on account of my home computer being older than god and not compatible with these newfangled blogger web sites. At home all I can really do online is visit really antiquated sites like the Piffelburg's family web site featuring the Fluffy the Cat picture gallery. I like the one where she lies on her side and lifts one leg way up into the air. Like some kind of feline ballerina.

Bell Sympatico can't even provide email for me any more - not that any of their customer service staff could ever possibly figure that out. It was left for me to decipher after endless phone calls that had everyone in the department running around like keystone cops, bumping into one another and falling down. Exact same experience I had when looking for telephone support and again when looking for Bell Expressvu satelite support and also when looking for web hosting support. The resolution every time after hours of mind-numbingly useless consultation has been to give up and suffer. One ingenious internet support person literally had no idea there was such a thing as a password associated with internet accounts. Brilliant. Not only had the jackass been given little or no training but he must not have even had an internet account of his own at home. I can imagine the job interview.

"Sir, your name is Harold Bing. Is that right?"

"Unnnynnyyya"

"Do you know what internet means?"

"Unnn."

"Do you have an internet account at home?"

"Ugh."

Okay. You're hired. Here's your desk. This is a phone. A nice man will come and show you how to use the phone. At the end of your shift the nice man will show you to the door and make sure you get on the bus okay. Oh, and here's some kleenex. Try not to get too much drool on the phone.

How Bell Canada has so efficiently cornered the market on the world's dullest minds is a wonder.


So anyways...

I do apologize for the unexpected hiatus. It was terribly rude of me. Things are looney crazy in my life right now. I was very ill and out of commission for a while and now I'm in the process of moving. I took possession of this very cool apartment in downtown Streetsville yesterday - me and some guy named Steve - and I'm smack dab in the middle of a painting/moving experience from the lowest plane of hell. I have stuff at the folks' place still to pack. So far I've moved in one set of shelves, one aquarium stand (for which I have no aquarium), One chest of drawers - sans two of the drawers - perhaps they'll go today. Oh - and one wok, one stereo, all my CD's and about ten boxes of books. Good start, eh? I still have the bed and desk to move (today) and a score of minor nick-nackery and another 30 or 40 boxes of books. Then there's all my real furniture to be moved out of my 300-square-foot storage locker including two dining room suites and 17 metric tonnes of crap which I have no use for. The remnents of years of unchecked ratcatching.

With the help of friends I've painted two coats of lodge brown on the living room walls and - okay. Did I just say "ratcatching"? What on earth am I talking about? What in all the 739 hells am I talking about? Ratcatching is not the word. I can't even think of the word. I've lost it. Really. It must be the radiation poisoning. I'm radioactive you see. I'm certain of it. My snot is florescent yellow. I wouldn't kid you about something like that. I'm pretty much over the illness. The only symptom - and this is new for me - is that I must blow my nose regularly or else I get a terrible post-nasal drip going on and then I have to cough it all up. Terribly sorry for the imagery but this is important. The strange thing is there is no sensation that things are accumulating up there. I feel no sinus discomfort whatsoever. No sniffling. No congestion. But I must remember to honk regularly or else I pay with the dreaded drip. Strange. And with the honking comes a load of 'goop' literally the colour of a yellow highlighter marker. I swear it's true. My snot glows in the dark. Fascinating.

So - two coats of Lodge Brown in the living room plus I've sponged on a layer of Truffle Oil - just on the one wall. It's about 18' wide and 9' high, this wall. It took me all bloody evening to do it and I'm not sure whether I hate it or not. I'd never sponged before and frankly I don't know what the f--- I was thinking. Mind you there's a third layer to follow. "Dapper Tan" or something ridiculous. Anyways I'm in a terrible funk over this. I've decided to let the painting project lie for a bit and reconsider the plan. Perhaps we need to change tack. I'll concentrate on the moving for a while.

Captain Vino, if you're reading this, do consider dropping by for a visit some time soon! Could really use your advice on this whole decorating project. I know you have a flair for that sort of thing!

FWG