Fine, Thanks, And You?

I don't really relish another month or two passing before I make another Dear Diary entry, so here goes. On my mind at the moment:


Summer is coming to an end. I feel a tad cheated this year, no shimmering, sweltering, blast-oven style heat to make us suffer and dehydrate in mind-altering misery. What's the point of having air conditioning? But the trade off was this: storms. Lightning, thunder, ground shaking powerstorms. Great tunderin Jaysus. Lovely, fierce, guttercleansing storms. The smell, the electric air, the shiny streets, abundant greenery... easy on the humidity, enough wind to keep the smog at bay. Well. Anyways, been a wonderful summer. Which makes heading into winter just that much tougher. Oh, well. I'm Canadian. I can handle it. "Winter" just means it takes a little longer to get to my car in the morning :)


My basement floor is finished. All the cementing and sealing. The new windows will be installed in September. The new furnace also. A few more electrical and plumbing details to be touched up. All that remains is to buy some serious storage units, and start decorating my new art room. And my new laundry room. This, of course, will trigger and entire house re-vamp, including closets, kitchen cupboards, and upstairs storage space, leading to serious fall cleaning, painting, woodwork, and furniture refinishing. I don't do half measures. Of course not.



My birthday is coming up in a few weeks. This is not so much a celebration of my birth, as a celebration of my continued existance despite the odds. :)
I have spent previous years expecting my loved ones to be able to read my mind, carefully ask seemingly innocuous questions, and gauge my wishes accordingly, in order to buy me the perfect gift each year. This tactic has failed me 100%, to the point where it would be sheer stupidity for me to continue thusly. This year, I plan to demand a surprise party. And it better be good!



more animals

Happy Birthday to me. I guess I better haul ass to the store and buy myself a gift, so I can surprise myself :)

August 9, 2008

Please forgive me, it has been two monthes since my last confes..I mean, my last posting.

Summer is a busy, fun time, and since life is short, I've decided to spend my summertime doing stuff what needs doing instead of potatoing away in front of a computer screen. Fun things, but unfortunately, work things, too. Yin, yang... :/

A work update on my doings and goings and hitherings and yonnings: mostly consisting of me slaving like a dog trying to organize all the crazy crap I've collected over the years. Because we've finally gotten around to getting the foundation fixed on our old citadel of a house. Meaning the entire basement needed to be emptied of its contents. Just the sheer volume of crap we've collected over the years would have been enough to incur fear and doubt in even the most serious DoGooder from any of those televised home cleanup crews and freeze him in his tracks. Or her. Fear knows no sexism :)

The basement of this fortress was built to be virtually indestructible. That is, to everything the builders could think of: war, locusts, plague, insanity, famine, earthquake, giant sand worms from Dune, bloodrayne, zombies, and termites. What the builders didn't bank on was that most deceptive of destroyers....groundwater. It has infiltrated its evil way into the cracks and crevices and over time has frozen, thawed, negotiated and insinuated its liquified self into the very soul of our home, melting its way placidly through solid cement. It took years, this patient, pervasive invasion of our space. This stealthy pillagement, this wily violation of our dear home. Maybe not so stealthy, we figured it out years ago. But the time has come to reclaim our castle, take back our territory, and tame the trespassing torrents.

What all that means, is that I've spent the last couple of monthes sorting and packing boxes of crap and moving it all into storage. Years of stuff, some good, some not so much, some useful, some not so much...and either tossing it or hauling it all away and paying upwards of 200 bucks a month to keep it under lock and key and camera surveillance (prolly under the watchful eye of some wanker with a porn addiction and too much free time at work). What remained was a large, empty, slightly damp, sorrowful-looking basement with a badly cracked floor and an aspiration to greater things. And a month without my washer and dryer, a month!! The sheer torment of having to wear the same clothes for days at a time. And they say the pioneers had it bad. Try giving a woman a thousand dollar machine to clean things with and then taking it away from her...folly, says I. Sheer folly. Lucky for them I didn't climb a bell tower with a sniper rifle.

Then the men came with big strong tools (hehe) and jackhammered their way (heee) through our poor, violated floor and removed all the old cement, right down to solid Canadian Shield bedrock. Then they dumped in a gabillion pounds of gravel, re-laid new plumbing and drains, some plastic sheeting, some metal grids, and finally a nice smooth four inch topcoat of lovely grey cement. Spankin!!

Now, we await the resurfacing of the basement walls, the installation of new windows, a new heating system, and then on to my favorite part: redecorating our new space. The washer and dryer have been re-installed in the soon-to-be new laundry room, and the rest of it is blessedly empty. We will probably start hauling stuff back in early September, depending on how fast the rest of the work progresses.

Fun update: In between stuffing boxes and housework, I spent my time wisely. Roller coasters, water slides, shopping, car shows, and movies.

Busy busy busy, a girls gotta bee :)

Yes, I Am A Sick Individual. Snotty to boot.

Who gets sick in the spring? Seriously. A full strength, force ten gale head cold, fully equipped with excruciating sinus headache, swollen glands, bucketloads of phlegm, drippy, red, irritated nose. Put me flat on my back, heavily medicated and wishing for sweet release. No sex involved there, either, more's the pity. Hard to feel sexy with a double lungful of virulent germs and a fifty gallon drum beside my bed for all the snotty, soggy Kleenexs. Ewww. Not to mention the accompanying attitude of "touch me and you die" that seems to come free of charge with all of my head colds/flu's.

Lovely.

And what kind of messed up God is up there, anyways.. Religion is all well and good, but one has to wonder at the cruelty of a celestial being that allows such painful thing. Just downright uncaring. And I've completely missed out on spring. One minute it's cold and windy and I'm hauling myself around all wrapped up in polar fleece, and the next thing I know, three weeks have slipped by and it's 95F and I don't have a thing to wear. Not. A. THING. Except for this raggedy-ass tee shirt that I dug out of the back of my closet, full of holes and practically see-through, that no self-respecting hooker would even wear on a slow night with no prospects in sight.

This is the crux of my problem, really. I've completely missed out on the spring shopping season. On the wonder and enchantment of seeing all the new spiffy spring shades, the fads, the fashions, the flowing, flowery, summery fabrics. And the joy of that first pair of sandals spotted in my fav shoe store...the wonder of it all! All gone. I missed it. Now the stores are full of autumn colors. Autumn shoes. Autumn sweaters...is that...polar fleece I see??? And even if I could find spring clothing, I have nothing to wear to go shopping. Do you see the sick irony here? Dear God, how can you do this to me? What have I ever done?

And what moronic retard fashion expert decided that spring clothing should be sold in mid-winter, and autumn crap sold in spring? Why must women be forced to buy seasonal clothing an entire season and a half beforehand?? What kind of sick, twisted society thinks this is acceptable??? Really.

The horror. The HORROR.

My head is spinning. Spinning, I tell you, from the sheer horror of it all. Or maybe that's just the cold meds wearing off. Hard to tell, really. All I know is, it's hot, muggy, and I'm sitting here typing in the buff because I have Nothing To Wear.

Maybe things will improve and it will rain soon, and I can throw on last years raincoat and go shopping. Obviously, the umbrella ain't gonna cut it. Just hope the cold meds don't cause me to run around flashing all the old men hanging around the mall. Haha. Ha!


*sigh*

More horsepower. One Can Never Have Enough, Really.

Whilst perusing the dailies this lovely morning, I happened across this enthralling article in CAA magazine. Being me, I simply had to add it to my blog, since it directly relates to the things I love and cherish...speed, pretty colors, and leather :P

Article:

Too Fast, Too Luxurious.

The fastest street-legal cars in the world.

By Steve English

Humans have been feeling the need for speed pretty much since we first started walking up-right. From the first domesticated horses 6,000 years ago to the latest precision-tuned super-cars, our civilization’s progress has been measured in horsepower and kilometres-per-hour. The 10 cars listed here represent the pinnacle of personal mobility currently allowed by law and physics. Buckle up, hold on and brace yourself for the g-forces!

All cars are ranked based on posted quarter-mile (0.4km) acceleration times, and only street-legal, full-production models were considered (no customs, no concept cars, no racers).

10. 2002 Lamborghini Murciélago, 11.72 seconds
Named after a legendary fighting bull so renowned for its fighting spirit that it was spared its life, the Murciélago is a powerful beast with slick, movie-star-worthy lines. It really lives up to its namesake, too; incredibly fast, powerful and difficult to tame, the car’s disagreeable handling makes it a tough drive for all but the most experienced super-car enthusiasts. Given its wild styling and (ahem) modest $300,000 US price tag, taming it almost seems worth it.

9. 2005 Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren, 11.6 seconds
Boasting both a powerful supercharged V8 (top speed approaching 333 km/h) and lav-ishly appointed leather-covered cockpit, the Mercedes SLR McLaren is a muscle car with a country-club pedigree. Hand-built at the McLaren plant in Woking, England, the SLR’s lightweight construction—a carbon-fibre body bolted to a largely aluminum chas-sis—complements its robust 617-horsepower pulling capacity. But make no mistake, this car isn’t for the common rabble: the SLR’s $441,000 US sticker price and two-month waiting period keep it almost exclusively in the preserve of high-rollers.

8. 2007 Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano, 11.3 seconds
Introduced as a replacement for the 575M Maranello, the 599 GTB Fiorano seamlessly com-bines the elegance of a luxury car with the heart-pounding speed and performance of a super-car. All that torque can be tough to handle, but the Fiorano’s semi-active, aluminum double-wishbone suspension gives it pretty decent handling and a surprisingly smooth ride. But off-the-mark acceleration is where its true colours come out. Hitting 100 km/h in a breathtakingly Ferrariesque 3.7 seconds, you don’t just pull out in this baby, you take off.

7. 2005 Ford GT, 11.2 seconds
Inspired by the classic Ford GT40 that dusted everyone in the 1966 Le Mans 24-hour race, the Ford GT is the rarest of rare breeds: an American-made super-car with an almost reasonable price tag ($150,000 US). A handpicked team of Ford engineers designed the new-look GT to directly rival the Ferrari 360 Modena, a feat they accomplished in style. Made of lightweight aluminum—including frame, suspension and body panels—and sporting a set of fat, road-grabbing Goodyear F1 Eagles tires, this sleek 550 hp behemoth is surprisingly easy to drive. Its slick profile practically begs for a pair of racing stripes.

6. 2004 Porsche Carrera GT, 11.1 seconds
The most powerful production-model car Porsche has ever made, the Carrera GT puts even the awesome 911 GT2 to shame. The ultra-light and ultra-rigid carbon fibre body keeps the Carerra GT’s weight down and its acceleration up, but you really have to be out on the open highway to feel the full force of its 5.7L V10 engine. Once it gets going, the car flat-out flies, capable of hitting a top speed in the neighbourhood of 320 km/h and can come to an impossibly quick stop courtesy of its massive 15-inch ceramic composite brakes.

5. 2002 Mosler MT900 Photon, 11.02 seconds
Produced by the little-known Mosler Automotive company in Riviera Beach, Fla., the MT900 Photon takes Mosler’s already deliriously fast MT900S and somehow makes it even faster. Ba-sically a race car with a few street-legal tweaks, the Photon sacrifices creature comforts for awe-inspiring performance and more speed than most mere mortals can handle. The engine roar drowns out the radio and the seats are hard and uncomfortable, but judging by how it eats up the road, you probably won’t be sitting in them long enough to notice.

4. 2003 Ferrari Enzo, 11 seconds
An automaker with Ferrari’s lineage isn’t going to put its founder’s name on just any old street rocket. Produced in a limited edition of only 399 and designed with input from legendary F1 champion Michael Schumacher, the Enzo is, by all accounts, the company’s zenith. Fingertip steering, responsive suspension and precision engineering throughout make it an absolute breeze to drive. But once you let its 6.0L V12 loose, it turns into a snarling beast. One draw-back: the Enzo requires a special (read: expensive) type of motor oil. Average oil change cost: $732 US. Ouch!

3. 2006 Chevrolet Corvette Z06, 10.85 seconds
The Z06 is the super-car equivalent of a welterweight boxer. Generating an impressive 505 horses from its 427ci engine, it packs the mighty wallop of good, old-fashioned Detroit muscle onto a small, light and blindingly fast sporty frame. Lightweight components, including a magnesium engine cradle and an all-aluminum chassis keep the Z06’s curb weight under 1430 kg and help make it the fastest production Corvette ever assembled. All this and a fully appointed interior, too!

2. 2007 Saleen S7 Twin Turbo, 10.6 seconds
It looks European, but the Saleen S7 is 1,247 kg of all-American muscle. Considered the first U,S.-made super-car, the S7 sports a relatively small power plant that packs a mighty big punch, churning out a claimed 750 horsepower and capable of reaching speeds as high as 354 km/h. All that power does come at a price, though. The engine is quite noisy when running in low gear, the shifting is rough and choppy, and the cockpit is a tight squeeze for tall drivers. On the plus side, a one-night stay at the Ritz-Carlton at Dana Point—near the manufacturing plant—is built into the sticker price so engineers can custom-fit the pedals and seat to your exact specifications.

1. 2007 Bugatti Veyron 16.4, 10.2 seconds
With its ultra-limited production run—Bugatti plans to build only 50 of them a year—and a sticker price in the neighbourhood of a $1,250,000 US, the Veyron is destined to be the must-have plaything for the speed-obsessed elite. Cramming 1,001 metric horses onto a street-legal frame, the Veyron is an engineering feat and a half; even its tires had to be specially designed so they wouldn’t disintegrate at top speed. And while you’ll no doubt never get the chance to drive one of these low-slung luxury dragsters, the mere fact that they exist is awe-inspiring enough.

Personally, if I had the option, I'd go for the McClaren. The Corvette, while being GM and therefore right up my alley, still carries the taint of "desperate old guy" car, and while that may sound trite, I cannot help the way I feel. And if I'm spending that kind of cash, I think my feelings require some consideration :P

Also no to the Ford. Sorry, Ford, aside from the AC Bristol Cobra, you have never really impressed me. And this is, after all, all about me. Heh.

Lamborghini, too ostentatious, ditto for the Bugatti. Ferrari, Porsche, ditto. Too much the "hey look at me, I got money so I bought a fast car" mentality for me. Half the owners out there cannot even drive these cars they way they were intended. Losers. You know what I mean.

Yes, I think the Mercedes SLR McClaren suits me admirably well. Classy, lavish, beautiful, tricky to navigate, and fast as hell given the proper circumstances. Yes, in fact, it suits me to a T.

:P

Thank you, all donations happily accepted >:]

Home On The Range.

Okay. Here are some pics of my vacation. Yes, I did fly, and I arrived safely. No thanks to the stanky guy sitting beside me on the flight, try standing a little closer to the soap, pal.

Anywhoo.

So, it's branding time in Alberta.

I took pics.

Here they are. I suppose some commentary will be required, so.

In the spring, ranchers brand all the new calves. While they're at it, they also immunize them, tag their ears, and cut the balls off the boys. All in a days work for these boys, and hey, real cowboys wear baseball caps >;]

The above pictured are the unsuspecting victims. The following pics are the Perpetrators.





Dick, working when he's ninety...hope I will be this energetic. Granted, the man can work cattle all day, but watch him try to haul his ass out of a deck chair...haha!



Ray, time to make the donuts :)

These are working horses. They are professional, highly trained and very good at their jobs. They have to be, they do all the hard work :P

Left over right, or was it right over left....:P










Gotcha!





Been doing this for 50 years. Makes it look easy as pie :)

Just 179 left to go....

Having an off day. Frisky, spirited animal that doesn't want to work today. Same goes for the horse :P

I don't care what they say, this has gotta hurt :/

I think they are planning on replacing branding by switching to using microchips. I hope so, ASAP, but in the meantime, life goes on, and the valuable animals that feed us need to be kept track of.

Do NOT pick me!!!

This is me on Blackberry. She works way harder than I do :P

Blackberry...taking stock.

Haulin' in the goods.

I don't wanna, don't make meeeeeeee..

Well, doesn't this just suck donkey balls. OUCH!

Having ones balls removed. At least the girl doing it is pretty :)

I guess my daily quota for pics has been reached.

More later.