Tonight I travelled back from Wellington. There was a delay due to a sick passenger and the crew weren't sure if she'd make it to Dorkland in one piece. So we taxied back to the gate for paramedics to check her over. Just as well it wasn't an emergency as she bloody well would've died ten times over before the plane finally made it back to the gate.
Way to go Air NZ. Yeah.
Something that annoys the crap out of me is people on airplanes and their bloody mobile phones. The SECOND it's ok to turn on your mobile, you can guarantee there'll be an instant cacophony of bleeps, burbles and idiotic ringtones as people frantically switch them on - just in case they might have missed something that CAN'T POSSIBLY WAIT 10 FACKING MINUTES!!!!
Freaks.
What did these people do before mobiles? Foam at the mouth and tear hysterically at the airplane doors?
Freaks.
And the ones that piss me off the most are those who just can't help making a call while waiting to get off the plane. These are the dipshits who spring out of their seats before the seatbelt sign goes off, phone in one hand, the other fumbling frantically about in the overhead locker for their coat, cabin bag and laptop, elbowing everyone on one side of the aisle and ramming their smelly arse into hapless passengers on the other side. Lovely.
And it's not as if they're having a conversation about anything important or urgent. No, they're just talking average, boring shit. Clearly they have no life and are in a tearing hurry to get through it as fast as possible.
Freaks.
The other thing I have noticed on my work travels is this: my co-workers love to bitch to me about their co-workers, and the minute I'm gone they bitch to their co-workers about me.
Freaks.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
The countdown is ON!
Finally. The end of my 2 year IT project is in sight. After having nearly lost the plot last week and walking out on the whole thing, I have now recovered my equilibrium and regained my perspective.
I'm in Wellington this week, busily installing gear, just a half dozen to do tomorrow, and the worst will be over - and my stressfest with it. Then it's off to Invercargill for the fastest installation in history... and then I might take me a wee break. That would be a weekend, I guess. Feh.
The motel I'm in has possibly the noisiest bathroom fan ever invented. Last night I thought the thing was going to come loose from the ceiling and chase me round the room. Then with an almighty bang and thump it righted itself. Still noisy though. I'm in Lower Hutt. 'Nuff said, I guess.
Anyway, I'm out of here tomorrow and hopefully it's only overnight stays from here on in. Although travel to Invercargill is usually a half day event at the best of times. As I'll be going there in the depths of winter, it's odds on as to whether I'll get there at all... let alone out again! Wish me luck...
Oh yeah. Wellington traffic? THEY DON'T HAVE ANY! Reports of heavy traffic are greatly exaggerated. Except when there's prangs in the tunnels of course, and then I guess it's fair to say that Wellington traffic sucks. But ONLY then. For chrissake - they only have ONE motorway! ONE!!! And it's EMPTY at 9.30am!!!!
Honestly...
I'm in Wellington this week, busily installing gear, just a half dozen to do tomorrow, and the worst will be over - and my stressfest with it. Then it's off to Invercargill for the fastest installation in history... and then I might take me a wee break. That would be a weekend, I guess. Feh.
The motel I'm in has possibly the noisiest bathroom fan ever invented. Last night I thought the thing was going to come loose from the ceiling and chase me round the room. Then with an almighty bang and thump it righted itself. Still noisy though. I'm in Lower Hutt. 'Nuff said, I guess.
Anyway, I'm out of here tomorrow and hopefully it's only overnight stays from here on in. Although travel to Invercargill is usually a half day event at the best of times. As I'll be going there in the depths of winter, it's odds on as to whether I'll get there at all... let alone out again! Wish me luck...
Oh yeah. Wellington traffic? THEY DON'T HAVE ANY! Reports of heavy traffic are greatly exaggerated. Except when there's prangs in the tunnels of course, and then I guess it's fair to say that Wellington traffic sucks. But ONLY then. For chrissake - they only have ONE motorway! ONE!!! And it's EMPTY at 9.30am!!!!
Honestly...
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Poor little blog...
Yes, it's being neglected. A lot. And it's all because of Ravelry.
Although this is an online community, it's slipped over into Real Life, believe it or not. I now have a social life. With real people. And they're FAB! I've been a Raveler since November last year and in that time I've learned to knit lace, cables, garments, and socks are next (just in time for winter). Plus, I've learned to spin. You know - that stuff off a sheep's back. Shear it, wash it, card it, spin it, make something. Pretty cool. Even got my own wheel and everything!
To those who aren't into the fibre arts, this all sounds like a crashing bore. But I'm just hanging out with friends with similar interests, eating, drinking, mucking about with yarn and fibre, having a good time. Substitute 'fibre' for your fun of choice and that's what I've been doing. A lot.
And when I'm not doing that, I'm travelling about the countryside for work, cursing the f*cktards on our roads. (You were waiting for me to get to the damn point, weren't you!)
Case in point: traveled up to Whangarei last week. It's mostly one lane there and back (bugger-all investment in Northland infrastructure) except for a few passing lanes here and there. On corners. Uphill. On the side of a cliff. Clever planning, that.
As soon as you go to pass the moron cruising along at 75kph, the little f*cker floors it. I absolutely hate people like that. It's not funny, it's dangerous. And I wish them a messy end to a short and utterly useless life.
This is why I spend so much time immersed in my fibre pursuits. It calms me down after a day on New Zealand roads.
UPDATE
I have just discovered stomach muscles!! (On me, of course. Am not pawing someone else's body) I did not know they existed. Must be from hefting 985 kg of computer equipment about for the last week. Virtually by myself. Because all the boys are lazy. My butt is still the same size though because the Universe is still horribly mean to me.
Although this is an online community, it's slipped over into Real Life, believe it or not. I now have a social life. With real people. And they're FAB! I've been a Raveler since November last year and in that time I've learned to knit lace, cables, garments, and socks are next (just in time for winter). Plus, I've learned to spin. You know - that stuff off a sheep's back. Shear it, wash it, card it, spin it, make something. Pretty cool. Even got my own wheel and everything!
To those who aren't into the fibre arts, this all sounds like a crashing bore. But I'm just hanging out with friends with similar interests, eating, drinking, mucking about with yarn and fibre, having a good time. Substitute 'fibre' for your fun of choice and that's what I've been doing. A lot.
And when I'm not doing that, I'm travelling about the countryside for work, cursing the f*cktards on our roads. (You were waiting for me to get to the damn point, weren't you!)
Case in point: traveled up to Whangarei last week. It's mostly one lane there and back (bugger-all investment in Northland infrastructure) except for a few passing lanes here and there. On corners. Uphill. On the side of a cliff. Clever planning, that.
As soon as you go to pass the moron cruising along at 75kph, the little f*cker floors it. I absolutely hate people like that. It's not funny, it's dangerous. And I wish them a messy end to a short and utterly useless life.
This is why I spend so much time immersed in my fibre pursuits. It calms me down after a day on New Zealand roads.
UPDATE
I have just discovered stomach muscles!! (On me, of course. Am not pawing someone else's body) I did not know they existed. Must be from hefting 985 kg of computer equipment about for the last week. Virtually by myself. Because all the boys are lazy. My butt is still the same size though because the Universe is still horribly mean to me.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Car-huggers and Carpet
Maybe it's just that I'm getting more and more paranoid. Either that, or people really are nasty little f**ckers. We all know them - you're driving along in peak traffic and all of a sudden you notice someone sidling up alongside a little closer... a little closer... a little... OY! F**K OFF RETARD!
I've given this a lot of thought. What are you supposed to do when another driver starts getting a little too close for comfort to the side of your vehicle. They're practically neck and neck with you, so it's not like they're trying to merge ahead of or behind you. No! They're trying to push you off the frickin road!
One wank-in-a-van did this to me and nearly caused an accident (I may have mentioned this before, but tough - I am middle-aged and cranky). I only just managed to slam on the brakes in time to avoid him smacking into me, and thus pushing me into the path of another car coming up on my other side.
I hate people. They suck.
Now I just keep the gap between me and the car in front too small for all but the most profoundly stupid - and there seem to be a great many of them. I just have to hope that the Traffic Fairy will protect me from nose-to-tail collisions...
Carpet. During my frequent absences from home due to business, the neighbourhood cats invaded my home, terrorised my cats, ate all their food, and pissed and shat everywhere. They did such a good job that eventually my 'vintage' carpet succumbed to Permanent Pissery, from which there was no return.
Fortunately, there was an inorganic rubbish collection this week. So, armed with the very last blade in my el cheapo knife, I ripped the carpet up into strips, along with the festering excuse for foam underlay, and hauled it all onto the street.
Who needs a man! Go me!
I've spent every night this week ripping up the tack strips and staples, and am still not done. What a friggin mission! However, the good thing is that my home now smells like a Proper House, rather than a free-for-all feline urinal.
Visitors can now be accepted. Am no longer sad social pariah and all-round embarrassment to family and friends. V g.
I've given this a lot of thought. What are you supposed to do when another driver starts getting a little too close for comfort to the side of your vehicle. They're practically neck and neck with you, so it's not like they're trying to merge ahead of or behind you. No! They're trying to push you off the frickin road!
One wank-in-a-van did this to me and nearly caused an accident (I may have mentioned this before, but tough - I am middle-aged and cranky). I only just managed to slam on the brakes in time to avoid him smacking into me, and thus pushing me into the path of another car coming up on my other side.
I hate people. They suck.
Now I just keep the gap between me and the car in front too small for all but the most profoundly stupid - and there seem to be a great many of them. I just have to hope that the Traffic Fairy will protect me from nose-to-tail collisions...
Carpet. During my frequent absences from home due to business, the neighbourhood cats invaded my home, terrorised my cats, ate all their food, and pissed and shat everywhere. They did such a good job that eventually my 'vintage' carpet succumbed to Permanent Pissery, from which there was no return.
Fortunately, there was an inorganic rubbish collection this week. So, armed with the very last blade in my el cheapo knife, I ripped the carpet up into strips, along with the festering excuse for foam underlay, and hauled it all onto the street.
Who needs a man! Go me!
I've spent every night this week ripping up the tack strips and staples, and am still not done. What a friggin mission! However, the good thing is that my home now smells like a Proper House, rather than a free-for-all feline urinal.
Visitors can now be accepted. Am no longer sad social pariah and all-round embarrassment to family and friends. V g.
Friday, February 22, 2008
A long-overdue rant
K & R, my lucky ex-Auckland buddies, this is especially for you, so I expect comments. And make 'em good, cos I need entertaining.
I have just spent most of the week in Christchurch. Lovely, sunny, storm-free Christchurch. Yes, there are idiots on the roads, but they're few and far between. Of particular note was the fucktard in a black Beemer who thought the appropriate way to pull out of a parking space into slow-moving traffic was just to ever-so-slowly keep nudging out. With his head down so he couldn't see people (like me, whose rented Camry he nearly 'nudged' into) abusing the crap out of him. WTF???
To be fair to my Cantabrian friends, he looked like he was a way-out-of-towner. Like India. Ohhh... don't get me started on HP's technical support, Molly Woppy....
Let's get back to a bit of healthy Auckland-bashing. And remember - I'm a born and bred Dorklander so I get to slam the place and its denizens as much as I fucking well like!
Where was I. Oh yes - lanejumpers. Those festering piles of scum-sucking shite who would greatly improve our country's IQ by their flaming demise!
You know the ones - peak traffic and you've got a mere metre between you and the next car, then some fuckwit barges in at the rate of knots, giving you no choice but to slam on your brakes. And if this happens often enough (which in Dorkland it does), you'll have your hand at the ready to bash on the horn, flip the stupid fucker the fingers, and colourfully curse said fucker. All whilst masterfully managing not to career off the road oneself.
For the umpty-bazillionth time, this happened to me on the way home tonight. This stupid bitch zooms in nearly clipping my car, cops a richly-deserved earload from my horn, then WAVES THANKS at me! So I gave her the one-finger salute. She was confused at my reaction. I'm hoping she'll do us all a favour and have a close encounter with the wrong end of a building. One can only hope.
Speaking of fucktardiness in general - American Idol's back on!!!. JoyJoyJoy!!! The audition process is one of the most enjoyable parts - in a creepy, road accident kind of way. 99.9% of auditioners are an utter train wreck, many of whom are completely deluded about their singing skills, and richly deserving of the buckets of scorn dumped on their wildly arrogant heads. I especially like the ones who come in with some idiotic gimmick, loudly stating that they are "the next American Idol", then proceed to abuse the bejesus out of everyone's eardrums. And cry bitter tears at their inevitable disappointment! Fools. Even better are the ones who say that their family and friends tell them they're great singers.
Clearly their family and friends hate them as much as we now do.
God. I'm such a bitch. I feel so much better now.
I have just spent most of the week in Christchurch. Lovely, sunny, storm-free Christchurch. Yes, there are idiots on the roads, but they're few and far between. Of particular note was the fucktard in a black Beemer who thought the appropriate way to pull out of a parking space into slow-moving traffic was just to ever-so-slowly keep nudging out. With his head down so he couldn't see people (like me, whose rented Camry he nearly 'nudged' into) abusing the crap out of him. WTF???
To be fair to my Cantabrian friends, he looked like he was a way-out-of-towner. Like India. Ohhh... don't get me started on HP's technical support, Molly Woppy....
Let's get back to a bit of healthy Auckland-bashing. And remember - I'm a born and bred Dorklander so I get to slam the place and its denizens as much as I fucking well like!
Where was I. Oh yes - lanejumpers. Those festering piles of scum-sucking shite who would greatly improve our country's IQ by their flaming demise!
You know the ones - peak traffic and you've got a mere metre between you and the next car, then some fuckwit barges in at the rate of knots, giving you no choice but to slam on your brakes. And if this happens often enough (which in Dorkland it does), you'll have your hand at the ready to bash on the horn, flip the stupid fucker the fingers, and colourfully curse said fucker. All whilst masterfully managing not to career off the road oneself.
For the umpty-bazillionth time, this happened to me on the way home tonight. This stupid bitch zooms in nearly clipping my car, cops a richly-deserved earload from my horn, then WAVES THANKS at me! So I gave her the one-finger salute. She was confused at my reaction. I'm hoping she'll do us all a favour and have a close encounter with the wrong end of a building. One can only hope.
Speaking of fucktardiness in general - American Idol's back on!!!. JoyJoyJoy!!! The audition process is one of the most enjoyable parts - in a creepy, road accident kind of way. 99.9% of auditioners are an utter train wreck, many of whom are completely deluded about their singing skills, and richly deserving of the buckets of scorn dumped on their wildly arrogant heads. I especially like the ones who come in with some idiotic gimmick, loudly stating that they are "the next American Idol", then proceed to abuse the bejesus out of everyone's eardrums. And cry bitter tears at their inevitable disappointment! Fools. Even better are the ones who say that their family and friends tell them they're great singers.
Clearly their family and friends hate them as much as we now do.
God. I'm such a bitch. I feel so much better now.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Neighbours, and my new addiction
Why haven't I been blogging here lately? Simple. Ravelry.
I spend an inordinate amount of time at the place and it's seriously cut into my blogging time. I've made new friends (in the real world, no less), am hosting an international bag swap (because I have a bag addiction), and basically having waaay too much fun. In fact, my job is interfering with this lovely new addiction! Damn it. Still, I guess earning a living is good for one thing - it enables me to feed my addiction.
I'm also in several Yahoo art groups. These, and Ravelry, are fueling an on-going interest I have in a global trend of the rise and rise of arts and crafts, the empowerment and networking of women through these shared interests (because it's mostly women in these groups, at least the ones I'm in), and the associated group psychologies. Very interesting side-hobby...
Anyway. Back to less esoteric matters. My neighbours are growing up. When I moved here 6 years ago, one household over the back used to provide breakfast entertainment with the mother and daughter screaming abuse at each other. The daughter was probably 11 or 12, I suppose. These days, hordes of young boys provide late night entertainment as they escort the now-teenage daughter down the drive - sometimes taking 30 minutes to make their way to the front door (past my bedroom window... gack!). They seal this chivalrous behaviour by gunning their engines and dropping a patch at the top of the drive, before tearing off into the night.
Ah yes. Young love.
Then again, I heard the crying of a very young baby over that way today. I wonder if...
I spend an inordinate amount of time at the place and it's seriously cut into my blogging time. I've made new friends (in the real world, no less), am hosting an international bag swap (because I have a bag addiction), and basically having waaay too much fun. In fact, my job is interfering with this lovely new addiction! Damn it. Still, I guess earning a living is good for one thing - it enables me to feed my addiction.
I'm also in several Yahoo art groups. These, and Ravelry, are fueling an on-going interest I have in a global trend of the rise and rise of arts and crafts, the empowerment and networking of women through these shared interests (because it's mostly women in these groups, at least the ones I'm in), and the associated group psychologies. Very interesting side-hobby...
Anyway. Back to less esoteric matters. My neighbours are growing up. When I moved here 6 years ago, one household over the back used to provide breakfast entertainment with the mother and daughter screaming abuse at each other. The daughter was probably 11 or 12, I suppose. These days, hordes of young boys provide late night entertainment as they escort the now-teenage daughter down the drive - sometimes taking 30 minutes to make their way to the front door (past my bedroom window... gack!). They seal this chivalrous behaviour by gunning their engines and dropping a patch at the top of the drive, before tearing off into the night.
Ah yes. Young love.
Then again, I heard the crying of a very young baby over that way today. I wonder if...
Friday, January 18, 2008
Oh Billy - how I love ya!
Billy Connolly just cracks me up. Read this with a Scottish accent in your head and just try to not laugh! HA!
BILLY CONNOLLY'S CHAIN LETTER
Hello, my name is Billy and I suffer from guilt for not forwarding 50 billion fucking chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe if you send them on, a poor six year old girl in Scotland with a breast on her forehead will be able to raise enough money to have it removed before her redneck parents sell her to a travelling freak show.
And, do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you, and everyone to whom you send "his" email, $1000? How stupid are we?
Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I'll get laid by a model I just happen to run into the next day!
What a bunch of bullshit.
Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my house and sodomize me in my sleep for not continuing a chain letter that was started by St Peter in 5AD and brought to this country by midget pilgrim stowaways on the Endeavour.
Fuck 'em!! If you're going to forward something, at least send me something mildly amusing. I've seen all the "send this to 10 of your closest friends, and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a nickel from some omniscient being" forwards about 90 times. I don't fucking care. Show a little intelligence and think about what you're actually contributing to by sending out these forwards.
Chances are, it's our own unpopularity.
The point being? If you get some chain letter that's threatening to leave you shagless or luckless for the rest of your life, delete it. If it's funny, send it on. Don't piss people off by making them feel guilty about a leper in Botswana with no teeth who has been tied to the arse of a dead elephant for 27 years and whose only salvation is the 5 cents per letter he'll receive if you forward this email.
Now forward this to everyone you know. Otherwise, tomorrow morning your underwear will turn carnivorous and will consume your genitals.
Have a nice day.
Billy Connolly
PS: Send me 15 bucks and then fuck off
BILLY CONNOLLY'S CHAIN LETTER
Hello, my name is Billy and I suffer from guilt for not forwarding 50 billion fucking chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe if you send them on, a poor six year old girl in Scotland with a breast on her forehead will be able to raise enough money to have it removed before her redneck parents sell her to a travelling freak show.
And, do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you, and everyone to whom you send "his" email, $1000? How stupid are we?
Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I'll get laid by a model I just happen to run into the next day!
What a bunch of bullshit.
Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my house and sodomize me in my sleep for not continuing a chain letter that was started by St Peter in 5AD and brought to this country by midget pilgrim stowaways on the Endeavour.
Fuck 'em!! If you're going to forward something, at least send me something mildly amusing. I've seen all the "send this to 10 of your closest friends, and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a nickel from some omniscient being" forwards about 90 times. I don't fucking care. Show a little intelligence and think about what you're actually contributing to by sending out these forwards.
Chances are, it's our own unpopularity.
The point being? If you get some chain letter that's threatening to leave you shagless or luckless for the rest of your life, delete it. If it's funny, send it on. Don't piss people off by making them feel guilty about a leper in Botswana with no teeth who has been tied to the arse of a dead elephant for 27 years and whose only salvation is the 5 cents per letter he'll receive if you forward this email.
Now forward this to everyone you know. Otherwise, tomorrow morning your underwear will turn carnivorous and will consume your genitals.
Have a nice day.
Billy Connolly
PS: Send me 15 bucks and then fuck off
29 lines to make you laugh
Now this is MY kind of humour!! Oh yeah.
- My husband and I divorced over religious differences. He thought he was God and I didn't.
- I don't suffer from insanity; I enjoy every minute of it.
- Some people are alive only because it's illegal to kill them.
- I used to have a handle on life, but it broke.
- Don't take life too seriously; No one gets out alive.
- You're just jealous because the voices only talk to me
- Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.
- Earth is the insane asylum for the universe.
- I'm not a complete idiot -- some parts are missing.
- Out of my mind. Back in five minutes.
- NyQuil, the stuffy, sneezy, why-the-heck-is-the-room-spinning medicine.
- God must love stupid people; He made so many.
- The gene pool could use a little chlorine.
- Consciousness: That annoying time between naps.
- Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?
- Being 'over the hill' is much better than being under it!
- Wrinkled was not one of the things I wanted to be when I grew up!!!!
- Procrastinate Now!
- I have a degree in Liberal Arts; Do you want fries with that?
- A hangover is the wrath of grapes.
- A journey of a thousand miles begins with a cash advance.
- Stupidity is not a handicap. Park elsewhere!
- They call it PMS because Mad Cow Disease was already taken.
- He who dies with the most toys is nonetheless DEAD.
- A picture is worth a thousand words, but it uses up three thousand times the memory.
- Ham and eggs - a day's work for a chicken, a lifetime commitment for a pig.
- The trouble with life is there's no background music.
- The original point and click interface was a Smith & Wesson.
- I smile because I don't know what the hell is going on.
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