Dealing with the fun & friendly people at Unemployment

Sometimes when someone loses one's job, one calls up the Department of Labor & Industry so as to extend one's hand in a manner equivalent to begging for money. I did this for a while. And now, my claiming period is over so I needed to call to re-open my claim otherwise I shall have no more money dripping into my bank account.

They ask a barrage of questions:

DLI: This is X, thank you for playing the "20,000 Useless Questions So That You Can Claim Your Unemployment" game. How may I help you?

Me: Hello fun & friendly unemployment person. I need to extend my claim which expired a few days ago.

DLI: What was your reason for no longer working at X?

Me: None of your business. Next question please.

DLI: What is the capital of Columbia?

Me: Bogota. I'll take sciences for 100.

DLI: On the Periodic Table, what is the element for mercury?

ME: Hg. I'll take international politics for 400.

DLI: Who is the current president of Iceland?

Me: Olafur Grimsson. Now how long will it take for my claim to be processed and approved?

DLI: What is the gestation period for an elephant?

Me: Silly woman, I hail from deepest, darkest Africa. The gestation period for an elephant is 22 months.

DLI: Try filing online on Sunday. Hopefully your application will be approved by then. Good bye.

Me: WAIT! I have a ... hello?

Umteen amazing reasons why I love the suburbs

Don't get me wrong, I'm a city boy, born and bred. Loud honking tonking noises, gas and fumes, shit and vomit. Nothing beats the city lifestyle. Or so I thought.

More and more, I've been taking strolls around the pretty little neighborhood I live in. And now that it's summer (really??), the trees are in bloom, the grass has come back to life as if by some miracle of God, and things just look great dammit!


People out in the 'burbs tend to want to look after their front lawns. A well-manicured lawn, I guess, is much like a t-shirt. Don't ask me to explain, I'm not in the mood. Either way, nice green lawns, kids screaming, cars driving at the speed limit, little white picket fences.



Sunday mornings, while most of my friends in the city would either still be sleeping or nursing hang overs, the 'burbanites are out in full force with their lawn mowers, neatly trimming the hedges, raking up the grass, sprinkling fertilizer, and giving it all a light sprinkle with the garden hose. And all this before showering up, putting on their Sunday best, piling the rug rats into the car, and heading off to church.

It's like a toy town. And I watch in amazement. Sometimes I even get swept up in the whole 'burban thing and mow the lawn myself.

Try doing that while living in the concrete jungle!

Say "CHEESE"

I like shooting things!

I like shooting things that move, that run, that stand still. It's easier when they stand still though.

Sometimes I won't see anything for hours, then BAM, just like that, I see it. I steady up, take aim, and shoot. Very often you only get one shot, so you've really got to make it count. That's why today I hopped on the interweb and bought myself a Nikon - 6.1MP Digital SLR Camera.

I'm very excited. It should be here in about a week. And then I can start shooting.

Sometimes the monsters are your friend

We all have them, those creepy little beasts who lie under our beds at night, or who hide in our closets waiting for the most inopportune time to emerge with a stupid grin.

But as I've recently learned, they aren't all bad.

One of my monsters reappeared today. He wasn't under my bed. And he didn't emerge from my closet. No sir. This one came in the form of an envelope with "United States Treasury" expertly printed on the cover. You see, a couple months back I submitted my tax return for the year. And I'm not a Math person. I write. And I draw. And I sleep. So when my head started to hurt, I jotted down some numbers, included my W2s, and sent it off.

Today the monster arrived. I opened the envelope thinking I was about to pay away my life with money I do not have only to find the monster was to become my new best friend. A nice check ("cheque" for those of you who speak proper English) from the tax monster" and I'm amazed at just how quickly money really can buy you friends.

Now the fuzzy little monster and I are BFFs. We hang out together, drink Chardonnay together, take walks on the river side together.

Tomorrow I shall fold up my new monster friend and put him into my rapidly depleting bank account. But until then, we will cuddle up and watch TV, I'll feed him copious amounts of ice cream, and we'll joke together about just how disappointing the new Star Trek movie was.

Oh shyst, so much has happened

Yes, my devoted band of followers, I have been absent for a short while. But during that while, much has happened. For example:

- I flew 14 hours to Kuwait (no, really, I did, for a job interview)
- I flew 14 hours back, and still have jet lag
- I was told I didn't get the position with the agency in Philadelphia
- I went out for drinks at a really nice little pretentious Picasso-wannaberestaurant/bar
- I got the job in Kuwait

Will fill in another post with more details soon. Promise. I just need to relax a bit and gather my thoughts, find my brush and maybe take a shower.

If you throw enough s*** at the wall...

The economy blows. I've been applying for jobs left and right.

Finally I found one I thought I would be perfect for: Government Assassin.

I didn't even get a call back. But I know one of the guys who did. He told me that after all the background checks, interviews and testing were done, he was one of 3 finalists; two men and a woman.

He told me that for the final test, the FBI agents took one of the men to a large metal door and handed him a gun.

'We must know that you will follow your instructions no matter what the
circumstances. Inside the room you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Kill
her!!'

The man said, 'You can't be serious. I could never shoot my wife.'

The agent said, 'Then you're not the right man for this job. Take your wife and go home.'

The second man was given the same instructions.

He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet for about 5 minutes.

The man came out with tears in his eyes, 'I tried, but I can't kill my wife.' The agent said, 'You don't have what it takes. Take your wife and go home.'

Finally, it was the woman's turn. She was given the same instructions, to kill her husband. She took the gun and went into the room. Shots were heard, one after another. BAM BAM BAM.They heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the woman, wiping the sweat from her brow.

'This gun is loaded with blanks' she said. 'I had to beat him to death with the chair.'

Mmmm, maybe I'll apply for that McDonald's cashier job after all.

I'm angry. Angry like a snake.

Sometimes people get mad. Sometimes people get angry. Recently I've been pissed off angry. Let me tell you why.

So I received an email a few days back from an ex work colleague from a salt mine in my past. In this email were all sorts of words that made me angry. Someone was dropping the "f" bomb, refueling the canon with a "co**sucker" bomb. Interestingly, this same person had just given a "Do not hire him" reference to a potential employer who interviewed me last week.

Isn't this kind of behavior illegal? I know it's very childish and immature, but is it illegal? Like defamation or something?

I'm currently trying to find out, because if it is illegal, then God help this SOB because God will be the only one able to help him.