Grave Injustice

Several years ago, I found myself in a doctor's office, the specialist behind their desk explaining to me, in great detail, the results of several tests that had been performed on me.  I had apparently been born with a "syndrome", of which will prevent me from ever fathering a child.  I can be a dad, per se, but only if I adopt.  Not by having a child the "fun" way.

I share this with you all, because I find it appalling that I am faced with a situation where I know I could be a good father to a child, then you get all these other butt-reaming assholes, who have one, two, or more kids, and don't appreciate the incredible gift they have before them.

I see it in the news all too often.  Kids being harmed in all sorts of ways.  I find it painfully difficult to listen to, and even more difficult to accept.  In 2011, it was the case of Zahra Baker, the little girl who had survived a horrendous bout with bone cancer, which resulted in the loss of part of her lower left leg and her hearing.  The one thing she never lost, was her beautiful smile, but a selfish stepmother killed the little girl, the details of which are far too horrific to repeat, stole this little girl's life.  Such a waste of life, sickens me.

What sparks this disdain in me, once again, is the brutal slaying of a six-month old baby girl by her "father".  After a night of partying with his loser friends, a 19-year old Colorado teen, Dylan Kuhn, repeatedly slammed his crying infant daughter into the mattress, in an effort to silence the baby girl.  When it was discovered that she was no longer breathing, the authorities were called.

The story initially given to police was that a couple days before, the baby had gotten twisted up in some blankets and fell off the couch and striking her head.  However, evidence found during the autopsy of baby Sailor, failed to match up with the claims made by this sorry excuse for a human being.  Finally this piece of shit, admitted to authorities of how his infant daughter had actually died.

The story doesn't end there.  After pleading guilty for his crime, the charge was pleaded down from Murder to Manslaughter, and instead of receiving the mandatory sentence carried with this charge, the judge, the "dis"-honourable Douglas Walker, sentenced the youth to a mere 90 days in jail, and four years probation.  Apparently, Dylan is also required to take some Parenting classes, too f*cking late, if you ask me.  As well, this motherf*cker is required to submit evaluations on mental health and substance abuse.  In addition, he's not allowed to be left alone with any children under the age of 10.

Motherf*ckers like this all over the country and the world.  Having kids and not realizing (and appreciating) how miraculous and precious these little lives really are.  Sadly, this won't be the last case like this that I'll see on the news channels.

It's a rare occasion, if any, that I side with that sociopath Nancy Grace on CNN's HLN, but when I heard her wild exclamations and accusations tonight, in regards to Dylan Kuhn getting a slap on the wrist for murdering his baby girl, I was disgusted and appalled as well.

Language Barrier

I should have known that Thursday was going to be a f*cked up day at work, when I jumped up at 5:31am, in a panic, thinking I was late for work.  I'd already gotten one sock on my foot before I realized that I had an entire hour before I had to depart for work.

For the most part, my day was relatively routine.  I got out to my primary work area and was greeted with a horrific mess left by the previous night's crew and the "burn-off" idiot from that morning.

I drive a fork lift for a industrial-type factory here in the city.  At the current time, I am covering for a fella who's off with a nasty back injury that required surgery.  What the job entails is placing steel racks onto carts for the assembly/paint line at the industrial factory in where I am currently employed.  The emptied racks, once depleted of the parts they hold, must go to a fiery furnace to have the paint removed from the racks.  It's an easy process which is complicated in it's explanation.  Suffice it to say, the guy who works the burn off area, is as a fellow worker described as a "dip-shit".  And this dip-shit, causes me grief on an almost daily basis.  However, he is not what made this day stupid.  It was the communication with one or two other people.

The plant in which I work, employs a great deal of people of the Filipino persuasion.  What I find odd about these folks, is the fact that they come from a Sovereign State of South East China, they all have Mexican-type names, but can't speak a lick of Spanish.  It's all that ping-pong wing-wong shit.  That isn't a language!  Those are sounds from a vintage pinball machine.  What's even more f*cked up is, a majority of these folks, can't pronounce the letter 'F'.  The very same sounding consonant that starts the country of their origin.  The afore mentioned dip-shit, can't even pronounce my name.  Always calling me "JEPP".  Who the f*ck is Jepp?

Believe it or not!  I don't have that much of a problem communicating with the Filipino workers.  Granted I don't speak to the masses, but instead a few strategically placed folks.  The people I have a problem speaking to, are the people of the caucasian persuasion.  The older white guys who were born and raised right here in Canada, where English is their primary language, but you'd never know it because the order in which they speak certain words, totally confuses the f*ck out of me.

For example, this grey-haired guy flagged me down yesterday and kindly asked me if I'd pick up a heavy steel instrument from outside and bring it to his stall inside.  I gladly agreed, always eager to help, and asked where he was.  

"I'm right across from where they're building those great big tanks." he said.  I knew exactly the tanks to which he was referring and quickly picked up the tool with my fork lift and traveled down to the stall across from those giant tanks that were being built.  Once there, I asked the grey-haired fellow where he'd like it.  The man just stared at me and told me he didn't know what I was talking about.  

"You just asked me to bring this down to you, like two minutes ago."  As it turned out, it wasn't the same guy.  For some reason, in this general area, there's about three different old f*ckers, all with the same shitty haircut and all with same shitty salt-n-pepper 1970's porn mustaches, thus confusing the hell outta me.  Eventually, I found the guy, who didn't have the stall across from the big tanks being built, but was beside the giant tanks.  I tried to explain his error, "You said across, which would indicate that there was some sort of barrier that divided you from the tanks.  Like a river.  Or shrubbery.  A field or in this case, the roadway..."  My words were futile.  He just stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language.  What a dumb-ass.

Today, the same thing occurred.  There were some carts outside with shiny red painted parts on them.  This guy, who's name I'll change to protect innocent...  Let's call him DICK!  Come's up to me and asks, "When you have a spare moment, can you bring in those painted parts for me?"  I thought it odd, being he is a welder, but what the f*ck?  He apparently knows what he's talking about.  So I bring in the two carts of painted parts and park them in his stall.  About five minutes later, he storms up to me and demands I remove these painted parts.  "You don't put painted parts in a weld stall!" he said forcefully, to which I replied, "You told me..., 'When [I] had a moment, could I bring the painted parts in to you."  

"Well I meant to take them over to R___."  She's located on the far side of the west plant, in which I currently work in.  

"If you'd have said that, I would have, but YOU said 'bring them in to YOU'."  (In my world, when someone requests that something be brought to them, it literally means: Taking that item and bringing it to that person.  It does not mean: Taking [said] item and shuffle it off to whomever.

"Well I meant for you to take them to R___!" he repeated, adding more force to his tone.

"You should've said that then." I answered, unwilling to take any shit.

"You know what I meant."

"I can't read minds.  You should say what you mean." I quickly answered and leaving the matter at that.

My biggest frustration in life, is why it seems those who are to speak English most fluently, seem to f*ck it up the most?  Some days I just want to scream and pull my hair out when dealing with these dumb-ass people...

Perhaps it's my own fault, though.  Over the years, since leaving high school, I've tried to perfect my speech and use of the English language.  I've improved myself so much so, that a few years ago I was tested on my speech, reading comprehension and writing.  The result was scoring in the top twenty-one percentile for my age group.  Which was explained to me as my being "smarter" (that's debatable, I suppose) than 79% of the people in my age group.  I can't help but wonder, where I'd score in comparison to the age group of older grey-haired f*cks with 70's porn-style mustaches...?

Snoozed

Years ago, I used to work the night shift.  It was a laborious job, so naturally I was bushed when I'd arrive at home, and more often than not, I'd pass out on my bed before even changing out of my work clothes.

During my short stint in the East College Park area of this fine city, I blacked out all the windows in the bedroom of my basement suite, to help provide a peaceful and restful slumber without the interruption of light, even though there was a densely leafed tree just outside my room.  Unfortunately, for all the light that it blocked, sound still found a way to filter in.

The sounds of traffic passing by on the semi-busy never affected me much.  Even the thunderous sound of a city transit bus rolling past, never shook me enough to awaken from a deep sleep, but there was one sound that did.  Those screeching f*cking birds.

I've never been a fan of birds, except for that parrot in the Robin Williams movie, "Survivors".  And I suppose you could include the penguins from the Madagascar movies, but all others creep me out.  It's the idea that they don't have hands, that skeeves me out.

So the fact that these menacing creatures decided to have a gab-fest outside my window this particular week, was more unfortunate for them than it was for me.  The first day, I managed to suffer through the distraction, but was terribly tired that night at work.  The next day, the screeching continued, and despite my going outside to tend to the situation, I still failed to get a restful sleep, opting instead to sleep in the chair in my living room.  The third day, I took matters into my own hands.  I never threw a handful of rocks 'n' stones, opting instead to take the high pressure nozzle I'd purchased for washing my car, and pointing it up into the tree in question.

EVICTED!!!  After that, I slept like a kitten.  Problem solved!

If Only Joe P Could Moonwalk

People flew off the handle when O.J. Simpson was not guilty of brutally slaying his ex-wife, Nicole and her friend, Ron Goldman.  Thousands rioted in the streets of Los Angeles for six days, when L.A. cops were acquitted of the beating of Rodney King, despite the video evidence.  Or after being bombarded with an avalanche of circumstantial evidence, Casey Anthony was found not guilty of murdering her daughter Caylee, America went ape-shit.  

These are just three examples of people being presumed guilty after having their fair day in court and society lashing out at the judicial process and how Lady Justice turned a blind eye.  How justice failed the fallen victims of each case.  Yet Michael Jackson, on several occasions, was accused of fondling children, gets overlooked.  He even settled out of court, to avoid further scrutiny, but this apparently isn't a sign of a guilty man, but that of an "innocent man avoiding slander".  I call BULLSHIT!!!

In this society, apparently, if you can put out semi-entertaining music, with a decent beat and some slick dance steps, you can get away with fondling children.  I speculate just how far Michael Jackson could've pushed the envelope to escape persecution from society.

"Hey!  Did you hear Michael Jackson slayed five people and buried them under the monkey cage at Neverland Ranch?"

"Yeah, I did.  But he created the Moonwalk dance, so it's okay!"

Admittedly, there's one or two songs that he put out over his career that are pretty good.  In my opinion, most of his songs are over-rated.  Definitely, not worth looking past his pedophilia for, though.

Last year, Penn State's football coach, Joe Paterno was fired for failing to report the [then] alleged actions of his assistant coach, Jerry Sandusky.  Even though he followed the university's minimum requirement in the handling of the situation, in the end, because he failed to report the incidents to the state police, he was terminated for "covering the situation up".  So this man.  This historical football coach, who lead thousands to college football greatness.  This man who's career accomplishments are second to none, lost his entire legacy due to public opinion.  The record books have been erased and rewritten.  The statue that once graced the hallowed ground in front of Beaver Stadium, was removed in July of 2012.  A truly sad conclusion to a great legacy...  Now..., if Joe Paterno would have been able to Moonwalk out of these allegations and told everyone to "Beat It!", then who knows what might have been.

American Justice is not the one with the blind eye.  It's YOU.  Society.

Water is wet.  The sky is blue.  A tiger can't change it's stripes.  AND, Michael Jackson was a pedophile.

Aardvarks Just Look Stupid

It's no secret that I question the validity and the existence of God.  I tend to live my life based in reality and logic.  That mankind evolved from apes over the course of millions of years.  Frankly, the idea of an invisible man living in the clouds who has full reign over how people should act in this life and the next, simply feels preposterous to me.

I don't fault anyone who needs to lean on "him" or the bible to get through the rough parts of their lives.  When I hurt my leg a few years ago, I too, needed a crutch to get through the tough times. All I request is that you keep your christian ethics and beliefs to yourself.  Other than in this forum, I never push my non-beliefs on people, so why should I listen to their drivel?

The reason for this blog today, though, is spider webs.

"Huh?!?" You seem stumped, but yes! I said spider webs!  There is a song that was released a few years ago by an artist whose name escapes me, but it posed the question, "What if God was one of us?"  For the purpose of this blog, I will suspend my disbelief momentarily.

When I got home from work today, I exited my garage and walked straight into a spider web.  Why the little motherf*cker had to place an intricate web in the doorway, I will never understand.  This, however, is not the first time it's happened.  I was leaving for work a few weeks ago and the same thing happened at my front door, only this time the spider had constructed an elaborate web that spanned from the door to the screen door and back again.  It was quite spectacular, I assume, as I was twisting and spiraling across my front lawn, struggling desperately to remove it from my hair, face and teeth. 

So back to the God stuff...  'What if God were one of us?  Just a stranger on a bus, trying to make his way home.'  I think that's one of the lines in the song.  First of all, if God were among us, why would he be taking a bus?  Have you seen the freaks who ride the bus?  I know that God is "all-loving", but even he has to have his limits.  Sheesh.  Guaranteed, though.  The bugger never went for a walk in the park.  If he had, the first moment he walked through a spider web, he'd have abolished the world of spiders.  This much is for certain.  That's the first thing I'd get rid of if I were King of the World.  Get rid of the bugs and the spiders.  There's no need for them.  Birds can eat something else and aardvarks just look stupid.

This is just one of the reasons why I believe there is no God.  I have lots of reasons, mostly logical ones, but this is just one of the reasons.

Motherfreakin' Cessna

In recent weeks and months, there's been a brash of similar pictures like this one making their way to Facebook.  It almost seems like people are taking any crash photos of cars and tagging them with messages to "Stop Texting" while driving.  It is a valid message, I agree, and the more people recognize the dangers, the more apt they will be to resist the temptations of texting behind the wheel.

With the exception of this photo which promptly displays a sign posted at the site of this catastrophic car wreck, how does one know for a fact that all these accidents are the result of drivers "LOLing" while driving?  I'm sure there's a whole host of different reasons.

Years ago, I almost drove into a parked car because a CD case slid off the seat and I was trying to retrieve it, because: I just had to know the name of that song that was playing.  Nowadays, people have their MP3's and satellite radio, so no need for CDs.

More recently, I did meet with a close call.  I'd just finished re-fueling my truck and got in to begin my way home.  I'd barely left the vicinity of the gas pumps, when I heard a sound reminiscent of a plastic bag rustling in a breeze.  I turned my head to the right, towards the source of the unnerving sound and discovered a dragonfly that had somehow found it's way into the cab of my Honda Ridgeline.  This thing was quite large.  Without exaggeration, I'd estimate it's size was roughly the equivalent of a Cessna airplane.  F*cking huge!! Panicked, I slammed on my brakes.  I came to a screeching halt, the car behind me had to swerve out of the way to avoid rear ending me.  F*cker was following too close anyway, probably.  I leaped out of my seat, leaving the door open behind me, stammering at the prospect of what to do next, when suddenly, as stealthy as it had entered my vehicle, it flew out again.

Luckily, it happened in the secure confines of a parking lot.  If I'd have been on the highway, travelling at speeds of 100 or 110 km (60-70mph) and that f*cker had decided to go ape shit, who knows what might have happened?  Single vehicle rollover, most likely.  Ironically, when the police investigate such accidents, they rarely surmise that an insect may have been involved...

I never had my cell phone handy, so I wasn't able to snap a photo of this life-sized dragon.... fly, but if I had, I likely would have had an accident.

Moral of the story!  Keep your windows closed when refueling your vehicle, as you never know what creatures may be lurking.  And stay in school!  Typing "LOL" just makes you looking f*cking stupid!

The F*cking Idiot Defense

I recall, about a year ago, a visit to Costco.  The parking lot there is made up of one ways.  Traffic travels in one direction to access parking, then travel in the opposite direction the next lane over to do the same.  I happened to be trolling up one of the lanes looking for a vacant spot, when I was greeted halfway down by a car travelling in the opposite direction.  I honked my horn to get the driver's attention, rolling down my window in the process.  

"You're going in the wrong direction!" I called out.  Each lane is clearly marked, so her response to my comment was completely unexpected, and pretty f*cking stupid, might I add.

"I'm from out of town," she said, "So I didn't know."

Stupidity is not a f*cking excuse.  If a person held a loaded gun up to someone and squeezed the trigger, thus shooting that someone in the face, the excuse of "I'm from out of town, so I didn't know the gun would go off..." is not valid.  Although, that being said, I wonder why more people don't try to use the "F*cking Idiot Defense" when on trial.  (*It'd be pretty entertaining to see CNN's Nancy Grace's response to this.)

Fast forward to tonight.  I just happened to catch some of the local news, which reported on the Train vs Vehicle accident that occurred south of the city.  Apparently, a couple of women, also from out of town, were travelling to a horse show in a rural community.  They were heading south when they approached a railroad which dissected the road on which they were travelling.  According to the news report, the driver never noticed the train fast approaching until it blew it's horn.  Instead of slowing to a stop, she instead opted to press down hard on the gas, in a desperate attempt to beat the train.  A stunt which her pick-up truck lost, as the train struck the rear of the box, sending the truck into the air.  As if that weren't bad enough, what I've not yet mentioned is, they had a horse trailer in-tow, which did not fair as well as the truck did.

Two horses were inside the trailer.  One, thankfully, died on impact, while the second, lived for several minutes after the accident, with broken legs and in, no doubt, agonizing pain.  It's one thing to put your own safety at risk for an unbelievably stupid stunt, but when you put others, is just blatantly insane.  The horses, according to the news reporter, were described as "best friends", "pets", and "family members".  The combined value of the two horses approach $100K.

I'm no advocate for horses.  I don't find them to be the beautiful creatures that everyone touts them to be, but at the same time, they are living creatures that deserve to expire in a more gracious and graceful manner.

It was mentioned that "unfamiliarity with the area" may have been a factor in the accident, but before the news report concluded, the camera flashed on the railroad crossing sign, which also sported a stop sign, similar to the one pictured above.  So I question the "unfamiliarity with the area" defense.  No matter where you go in this country, the signs pretty much all look alike.  Even the ones in Quebec, which are obscured with that f*cked up language of french, are the same.  This is why they use different shapes and illustrations on the signs.  I would even dare to go as far as to say, anywhere in the world, the signs are pretty much alike.  So once more, being from out of town isn't a valid excuse, here.  I hope that the RCMP who are investigating the incident, throws every fathomable charge at the driver.  The "F*cking Idiot Defense" should not play a factor in her escaping prosecution.