LIVING LIFE WITHOUT A SAFETY NET
I write this on my newly reassembled computer with a distinct lack of net presence - A presence that will remain somewhat lacking for at least the next 3 weeks. If you want to send me an e-mail, print it off and mail it to me - Believe me it'll be much faster that way... As it stands I'm saving this to a portable disc drive for cutting and pasting at work.
It seems that while we signed a contract stating that we were responsible for the digging of a trench suitable for Telscrape to run a phone cable down from the property line to the access point on the edge of the house, nobody had seen fit to draw our attention to that obscure little point buried on an obscure little page in a construction contract thick enough to choke your average crocodile. While I don't find this particularly suprising as such (indeed I find that no depth of incompetence is beyond Telscrape these days) it still strikes me as a little odd that they would find it so amazingly difficult to use the SAME BLOODY TRENCH to lay their phone cable as was used to lay the electricity cable from the SAME POINT on the property line to the SAME POINT on the house. I kid you not I'm going to have to dig a trench (350mm deep x 300mm wide x too bloody long!) right next to the one that was laid down for the electricity because some chucklehead at Telscrape is completely unable to find their own ass with both hands, even with the aid of a guide dog and a team of weathered-looking Sherpas willing and able to help.
To the funny looking troll-doll who says he's in charge of that particular company of fools (I'd call it a sheltered workshop for society's ineffectives, but that's what the Liberal Party is for) I can only say that a couple of 6-year olds with tin cans and string have more of a clue on how to build an EFFECTIVE communications network than your mob of sub-contracted suboids have. Sol, you can bite me!
LIFE IN A $300k MORTGAGE
Life at our new house is good, great in fact. It's peaceful (when the children are asleep) and serene (when the children are asleep), and amazingly wet the last couple of days. How wet? Too bloody wet, especially when I'm making the scooter ride from Heidelberg West to Tarneit and the heavens decide that I'm not looking tense and nervous enough on the way, and choose to "improve" that situation with a cubic ass-tonne of water falling on me every second of the trip. I also find that my motorcycle jacket's pockets are nowhere near waterproof as I would like, particularly as I find that I now have to find a replacement mobile phone for the one that was used to replace the first one to be drowned whilst in my jacket pocket a few months back. Still, it's cheaper, faster and far more reliable than the rolling ordure offered up by Connex on a daily basis, so I'll stick to what now gets me from 'Point A' to 'Point B'.
FOUR WHEELS GOOD, TWO WHEELS BAD
I feel justifiably anxious at the best of times on the roads because I know deep down that if I don't have 4 or more wheels moving me along I'm near the bottom of the traffic food-chain (cyclists, not having a motor at all, are at THE BOTTOM, and pedestrians are merely a tally mark on someone's scoresheet somewhere). Adding torrential rain to the mix adds damp terror and soggy misery to the journey as I try to anticipate the combined effects of sheets of water on the road with fleets of cars driven by dimwits with water on the brain. No way in Hell do I have any time to try and remember (let alone recite) Frank Herbert's "Litany Against Fear", I'm far too intent on narrowing down my personal universe to everything I can see around me for about the next 4 seconds or so. I would also like to add that I will be refraining from making the trip from Heidelberg West to Tarneit on my scooter as it seems that every time I do the heavens drop water, lots and lots and LOTS of water, on my every metre of the way.
-- Dear Santa (or Dear Family Who Says They Love Me), this year for Christmas, more than anything else in the whole wide world, I'd like a pair of rain pants to help me cope with those times when I face the very real danger of death by drowning AND vehicular trauma simultaneously.
I write this on my newly reassembled computer with a distinct lack of net presence - A presence that will remain somewhat lacking for at least the next 3 weeks. If you want to send me an e-mail, print it off and mail it to me - Believe me it'll be much faster that way... As it stands I'm saving this to a portable disc drive for cutting and pasting at work.
It seems that while we signed a contract stating that we were responsible for the digging of a trench suitable for Telscrape to run a phone cable down from the property line to the access point on the edge of the house, nobody had seen fit to draw our attention to that obscure little point buried on an obscure little page in a construction contract thick enough to choke your average crocodile. While I don't find this particularly suprising as such (indeed I find that no depth of incompetence is beyond Telscrape these days) it still strikes me as a little odd that they would find it so amazingly difficult to use the SAME BLOODY TRENCH to lay their phone cable as was used to lay the electricity cable from the SAME POINT on the property line to the SAME POINT on the house. I kid you not I'm going to have to dig a trench (350mm deep x 300mm wide x too bloody long!) right next to the one that was laid down for the electricity because some chucklehead at Telscrape is completely unable to find their own ass with both hands, even with the aid of a guide dog and a team of weathered-looking Sherpas willing and able to help.
To the funny looking troll-doll who says he's in charge of that particular company of fools (I'd call it a sheltered workshop for society's ineffectives, but that's what the Liberal Party is for) I can only say that a couple of 6-year olds with tin cans and string have more of a clue on how to build an EFFECTIVE communications network than your mob of sub-contracted suboids have. Sol, you can bite me!
LIFE IN A $300k MORTGAGE
Life at our new house is good, great in fact. It's peaceful (when the children are asleep) and serene (when the children are asleep), and amazingly wet the last couple of days. How wet? Too bloody wet, especially when I'm making the scooter ride from Heidelberg West to Tarneit and the heavens decide that I'm not looking tense and nervous enough on the way, and choose to "improve" that situation with a cubic ass-tonne of water falling on me every second of the trip. I also find that my motorcycle jacket's pockets are nowhere near waterproof as I would like, particularly as I find that I now have to find a replacement mobile phone for the one that was used to replace the first one to be drowned whilst in my jacket pocket a few months back. Still, it's cheaper, faster and far more reliable than the rolling ordure offered up by Connex on a daily basis, so I'll stick to what now gets me from 'Point A' to 'Point B'.
FOUR WHEELS GOOD, TWO WHEELS BAD
I feel justifiably anxious at the best of times on the roads because I know deep down that if I don't have 4 or more wheels moving me along I'm near the bottom of the traffic food-chain (cyclists, not having a motor at all, are at THE BOTTOM, and pedestrians are merely a tally mark on someone's scoresheet somewhere). Adding torrential rain to the mix adds damp terror and soggy misery to the journey as I try to anticipate the combined effects of sheets of water on the road with fleets of cars driven by dimwits with water on the brain. No way in Hell do I have any time to try and remember (let alone recite) Frank Herbert's "Litany Against Fear", I'm far too intent on narrowing down my personal universe to everything I can see around me for about the next 4 seconds or so. I would also like to add that I will be refraining from making the trip from Heidelberg West to Tarneit on my scooter as it seems that every time I do the heavens drop water, lots and lots and LOTS of water, on my every metre of the way.
-- Dear Santa (or Dear Family Who Says They Love Me), this year for Christmas, more than anything else in the whole wide world, I'd like a pair of rain pants to help me cope with those times when I face the very real danger of death by drowning AND vehicular trauma simultaneously.
1 comment:
Only from you, can one visually imagine a poor schmuck chugging down the Western Ringroad, looking like a drown rat. Oh what a sight it was. Why didn't I get that photo. It could be worth millions....
The image of you standing in the Good Guys store (Werribbe) dripping wet is a sight that will be remembered and discussed on numerous occasions. When one needs a laugh, one must just remember the look upon your face.
But whilst the torrential downpour might be a bit of a problem for you at the present moment, just think of your reward. A brand new house in which to call - your own.....
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