Moonicipal
Things getting steadily more tolerable.
Began my english essay today, in that I wrote the outline and marked all the page references I am going to use with them handy lil' post-it-notes.
I would prefer it if they were called Stick-em's.
Applying for jobs at the local SDM and whatnot, and on the requisite government websites for Federal, Provincial, Municipal and MOO-nicipal jobs. I hope I don't get offered a job at MOO-nicipal court. Those cows know how to litigate.
It would rawk if I got a job at the ol' LCBO or the Beer Store, but they aren't hiring at the moment. Blast. Those jobs are unionized, so they're protected and are really stable. It also means that if I want a job there I'll probably have to wait until someone dies or gets canned for massive corruption/theft, and unless these LCBO or Beer Store employees are members of the liberal party, I don't reckon that's likely.
My friend Frank Meness is running for Chief of the Anishnabeg nation next year. I hope he wins. Frank, who as an assistant land claims negotiator, has sat on the tribal council for a few years, is an experienced family man who just finished his graduate studies at Carleton University and recently had the privilege of welcoming Chiefs from all over Canada to Gatineau for a conference of, you guessed it, aboriginal chiefs.
Frank said he'd keep an eye out for any job applications I filled out and flag them if they came his way. He also said that I'm a good guy and that anytime I'd like a letter of recommendation, then I could have one from him. People like Frank (That's Mr. Meness to everyone else!) are the salt of the earth, they give with both hands and ask only for hard work and good attitudes.
From the way he described them to me, he's got a beautiful family too. Now don't that just beat all, eh?
His buddy Kirk is pretty cool too. They hang out with some dude that looks like Ricky from Trailer Park Boys. I secretly suspect that this one white guy they hang around with did some pretty hardcore, fucked up shit to be allowed to hang around with them. Maybe he killed Sasquatch with his bare hands and that got it on with Mrs. Sasquatch. Now that's what I call taking one for the team.
Dad's much better, but still isn't back to work. he is chafing to get back into action, by which I mean his desk. No, Dad isn't a line officer anymore. Though his efforts to design mine detection systems to make our Oceans safer (you wouldn't believe how many sea mines are still out there from World War One, not to mention World War Two, in the range of hundreds of thousands) are necessary for safer trade and maritime defence, I think he wishes he could still sail the seas as master of a ship in Her Majesty's Royal Canadian Navy.
But Dad got to have his own command, actually, he got to have several commands in his career. Ambition fulfilled.
But I digress.
Things are getting steadily better for me.
Began my english essay today, in that I wrote the outline and marked all the page references I am going to use with them handy lil' post-it-notes.
I would prefer it if they were called Stick-em's.
Applying for jobs at the local SDM and whatnot, and on the requisite government websites for Federal, Provincial, Municipal and MOO-nicipal jobs. I hope I don't get offered a job at MOO-nicipal court. Those cows know how to litigate.
It would rawk if I got a job at the ol' LCBO or the Beer Store, but they aren't hiring at the moment. Blast. Those jobs are unionized, so they're protected and are really stable. It also means that if I want a job there I'll probably have to wait until someone dies or gets canned for massive corruption/theft, and unless these LCBO or Beer Store employees are members of the liberal party, I don't reckon that's likely.
My friend Frank Meness is running for Chief of the Anishnabeg nation next year. I hope he wins. Frank, who as an assistant land claims negotiator, has sat on the tribal council for a few years, is an experienced family man who just finished his graduate studies at Carleton University and recently had the privilege of welcoming Chiefs from all over Canada to Gatineau for a conference of, you guessed it, aboriginal chiefs.
Frank said he'd keep an eye out for any job applications I filled out and flag them if they came his way. He also said that I'm a good guy and that anytime I'd like a letter of recommendation, then I could have one from him. People like Frank (That's Mr. Meness to everyone else!) are the salt of the earth, they give with both hands and ask only for hard work and good attitudes.
From the way he described them to me, he's got a beautiful family too. Now don't that just beat all, eh?
His buddy Kirk is pretty cool too. They hang out with some dude that looks like Ricky from Trailer Park Boys. I secretly suspect that this one white guy they hang around with did some pretty hardcore, fucked up shit to be allowed to hang around with them. Maybe he killed Sasquatch with his bare hands and that got it on with Mrs. Sasquatch. Now that's what I call taking one for the team.
Dad's much better, but still isn't back to work. he is chafing to get back into action, by which I mean his desk. No, Dad isn't a line officer anymore. Though his efforts to design mine detection systems to make our Oceans safer (you wouldn't believe how many sea mines are still out there from World War One, not to mention World War Two, in the range of hundreds of thousands) are necessary for safer trade and maritime defence, I think he wishes he could still sail the seas as master of a ship in Her Majesty's Royal Canadian Navy.
But Dad got to have his own command, actually, he got to have several commands in his career. Ambition fulfilled.
But I digress.
Things are getting steadily better for me.
posted by Billy Ruffian at 11:36 p.m.
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