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Girl Friday. 1/26/2005


Someone I know fairly well has annouced the fact that she is in love and engaged. Aside from being rather gobsmacked, all I can say is “Congratulations.” Serves me right for neglecting to read the blogs on my list on a regular basis.

I guess that little thing we discussed some time ago is out of the question then?

Lock and load. 1/17/2005

So, we have a discharge of a deadly weapon by an enforcement officer in a public place, resulting in an innocent bystander being hurt. Collateral damage, as the American military puts it. I read in the papers this morning that the bystander was in a quandry over the cost of hospitalisation, which he could not afford to pay for.

He has apparently received letters of apology from the enforcement department concerned, but letters of apology, unfortunately, are not recognised as legal tender by any healthcare facility. Various quarters have been calling for guns to be withdrawn from enforcement officers, except the Police, as they feel that there is no call for such officers to be armed with deadly weapons.

The question is, why does an enforcement officer going after VCD peddlers in the street require a gun? Agreed, some of these peddlers tend to be violent when confronted with arrest. But I’ve noticed that enforcement raids are carried out with large numbers of officers. Agreed, I’ve been in violent situations before, which were resolved without the use of guns. But there are certain situations where a gun would have been a useful thing to have. They aren’t called ‘equalizers’ for nothing.

At the end of it, it has to be that strong controls are put in place.

Ramblings. 1/16/2005

I walked in on site today, just to find out what has been happening. The sterilisers have been unloaded, and placed in their approximate positions on site. Which has resulted in a problem I raised last week, when I got my first good look at the machines.

The width of the machines is such that, when placed in the work room, there will be inadequate space between the machines to perform maintenance work. Not that anyone cares. The vendor just wants to take their money and run. I looked at the 4 machines sitting in a row in the room, and unless we decide to hire munchkins for maintenance technicians, the only way into the side of the machine will be to dismantle the front panels.

I can just imagine how well that’s going to go down with the C.S.S.D Department Manager.


Just spent an entire morning distributing OT tables of various sorts. I looked at the list of room numbers, where the OT tables are supposed to be installed, and thought to myself, “No problem.”, since the OT complex, while huge, was all interconnected over 1 floor.

Until the boys started shifting tables, and I started getting calls over the walkie-talkie saying that they couldn’t find various rooms. I started cursing and swearing at them, saying that they were blind and the illiterate, illegitimate off-spring of diseased kerbaus, until I went to the OT complex. And realised that the room numbering bore absolutely no relation to the department number, or room sequence. You would have a set of rooms, numbered 14 to 19, with the table required to be installed in 19. So you walk to the department in question, and see a sequence of rooms numbered 14, 15, 16, and think to yourself, 19 should be just around the corner, and you turn the corner, and come t0 a fucking dead end.

So you walk around the entire complex, and finally find the room in question, in a totally different department, which has absolutely no relation to the type of procedure in question, and you ask yourself, “Which fucking abortion thought up the fucking room numbering and department layout?”

Girl Friday.

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Liquidity. 1/15/2005

Have just recovered from a rather liquid weekend. 2 biker functions on the same day. The first one was a lunch, hosted by HurricaneMax, for the Chinese New Year. The second, which was rather more liquid than the first, was Snake’s 40th birthday bash.

He requested that I perform the Master of Ceremonies for his birthday, and I had no choice but to accept. I arrived at the function hall, my mind full of various embarrassing biker type stories to tell, and then I realised that a lot of his family were present, and there were children around.

Which kind of put a damper on things. Because, as far as I know, everytime a biker starts a story, it rapidly descends into ‘R’ rated territory, and very shortly thereafter into ‘X’. I managed to contain myself, and only made one blowjob joke, when Snake blew out the candles on his birthday cake.

All in all, a most enjoyable evening. Even if it meant I was a little sensitive to sunlight and loud noises on Sunday morning.

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