I’ve worked at a number of places, and I’ve collected some interesting stories over the years. I got to remembering some of those during an earlier post, and decided to just go full bore in to a whole post. I can’t cover every story…if I were to put everything in to this post, it would become something best described as a tome. So I’m narrowing it to a few ‘greatest hits’.

First off, ‘Phil’ from Prairie Seed. I have to begin this by explaining the whole Phil thing. That wasn’t his actual name. I just called him Phil for so long that I forgot the unimportant bit of information that is his real name. Why did I call him Phil? Because of a Kids in the Hall sketch…

…and I can’t find the damn thing. Stupid Youtube! A quick summary : Loser guy known as ‘Phil from the warehouse’ who has pains that make it hard to live. From the moment that sketch was seen, every idiot that I have worked with has been known simply as Phil.

So, I’m working at a seed plant many moons ago, and it’s about as exciting a job as one would imagine. Mix seed in a hopper, pour it in to  sacks, sew those shut with a portable sewing machine, stack them on pallets. Repeat ad nauseam. After I’d been there for a little while, Phil arrived. He was the son of some higher up in the company. He was a complete moron. Yes indeed, he was too stupid to grasp working at a seed plant.

One day, I was doing the always thrilling job of stacking bags on pallets. Phil was working with the sewing machine. Imagine a tiny sewing machine with basically a pistol grip, hanging from the overall machine structure by flex cord. Something like this, only less modern looking :

Anyway, he’s using that. Now, Phil was slow as Hell to begin with, so I didn’t really take immediate notice of the fact that his productivity had dropped from ‘Sweet death will end this boredom’ to nothingness. After a few moments, though, I realized that he seemed to be fighting with the machine. I thought maybe it had run out of the string it uses, so I went to help him replace the roll. As soon as I got to him, he turned me and told me very quietly “I…I…uhhh…I think I’ve got a little problem here.”

“Okay, what’s up?” I asked him.

“I sewed my hand to the bag.”

Now, that machine pictured above is all safe and modern. There were no guards on the old school ones, and they go FAST. I asked him to repeat himself, and he told me the same thing. So I looked. He had managed to sew that chunk of flesh between the thumb and index finger to the bag. So he was stuck holding the machine, which was wedged right up against his hand, with a couple stitches attaching that hand to the bag.

After taking a moment to drink this in, I did the responsible thing that you do when some useless co-worker who you don’t like screws up…I went and told the guy running the seed hopper, giggling the whole time. He in turn went to get the warehouse manager. And it went on and on for a bit. Finally, someone freed the poor bastard from his predicament.

Now, I would normally commend Phil for not even whimpering once through what had to be a bit of a painful ordeal. However, I suspect that he was simply too dumb to register pain.

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Over the weekend, I received the following bizarre tweet :

millXna_pQrple @ElCliff76 RT JXHeartattack: You’ll be ight lol RT _caLILYenteDK Dude my body is so sore // whatever!!!!!!! Lol

There was also a link at the end…somehow I fought down the desire to go to a link sent by some complete stranger possibly trying to type 16 different languages at one time.

Now, I DID look up the Twitter profile of millXna_pQrple (More weird consonants than the average Polish name). Allow me to share some of my findings.

iMDATFREAK smh that’s cus ur old lol // *hits unfollow button* <- and I’m mean? Lol

over it yet? & I agree btw=] RT Hamdanism 3ayzaAtgawez is exggerated but that’s the point of the show

I don’t know what to make of these scrawlings. Is it a foreign language? Is it EVERY foreign language mashed together? Maybe Special Needs Jimmy got his hands on the keyboard somewhere?

I feel like one of those European explorers finding an African tribe for the first time…you know, without all that ‘racism’ and ‘slavery’ nastiness. Perhaps that babbling mess is what clicks and whistles looked like when transcribed? And with that line, I think we can amend the part about without all the racism…

Even more interesting, this person follows NO ONE. Do they just randomly hurl their nonsense in to the ether of the Internet, typing up random possible Twitter names and seeing what sticks? Is it a desperate last ditch ploy for friends, but the pill bottles are sitting open and ready on the desk next to the plastic bottle of shitty whiskey to wash them down? Their only followers are someone speaking Portuguese, a spammer and someone who apparently lives in ‘bieberland’. That part doesn’t so much surprise me…after all, this poor bastard’s name is apparently Kit. Was daddy a rabid Knight Rider fan?

Anyway, I have come up with a theory. This person isn’t even a PERSON. We are witnessing the first, fumbling attempts at contact from…

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Just to prove I’m not some soul blackened depressive washing down a cocktail of self loathing and bitterness with the refreshment of heavy duty bleach, I shall make you chuckle!

We have ALL started that new job where they make you watch a goddamn training video. They’re always out of date (rotary phones? Tandy computers? REALLY?) and have worse production values than low grade amateur porn. They are also frequently unintentionally hilarious.

I don’t know who these guys are, but their parody of one of those videos is spot on.

Holy crap. If you’ve ever heard me tell the tales of ‘Phil’ from my time working at a seed plant, the new guy in this video is essentially the same guy. It wouldn’t have surprised me at all if ‘Phil’ had shown up without any shoes on. Of course, he would have stepped on the nails and tried to pull them out, then started quietly asking “Hey, uh…got a little problem here.”

Actually, he probably would have pressed the red button and asked the police to help him with his nail problem.

Oh, and he would have consumed the paint thinner.

Actually, this talk of ‘Phil’ gives me an idea for a future blog post…

There ya go, K9 (that’s now your rap nickname)…you get a hip hop style mention in the title (this was suggested during a jokey conversation at coffee).

Many of you remember Jake…many of you are still owed hundreds of dollars by the guy. However, only one of you (Hey, Liam) got to experience the true privilege that was living with him, as I did. I thought I’d go a bit old school and talk some memories of life with Jake. And I’ll also get a bit in to the story of just who Jake was for those of you who don’t know. So let’s take a trip back together, shall we?

First off, I actually don’t entirely remember how we came to meet Jake, but I believe it was on a BBS. Remember BBS’s? They were like the Internet, only more insular and less prone to pornography (photos and 14.4 modems didn’t exactly get along). Quickly, he became a part of our cadre. We spent a lot of time over at his place, since pretty much all of us were living at home at the time and goddamn, he had an apartment! We could curse and be loud and stuff!

Fast forward awhile, and as you may remember from an earlier post, I ended up moving in with him. It wasn’t so much a matter of want as a matter of necessity. Now, that’s not to say I didn’t appreciate the chance, because I did. But…yeah. Not my first choice. Still, it beat having my dad and I kick the shit out of each other.

Liam had briefly spent a stint cooped up in the storage closet in Jake’s one bedroom apartment in some crappy building in Edmonton. And as he moved out, I moved in. Yes, yes…I lived in a closet. That means I frequently came out of the closet. Hahaha. Funny. Hilarious. Get it out of your system now…

Actually, it is funny, and I would still be needling someone else about that circumstance, so I totally understand your need to mock. So go forth and demolish me with my blessing.

Now this was the arrangement for maybe a month, until he decided one day to talk to the landlord and see if there were any 2 bedroom suites available, then took one. Not a bad idea from an accommodation point of view, but a rather shitty one from the perspective that neither of us had a job. Welcome to the first lesson in the theory that has since been tagged (by myself, and I’m rather proud of it) ‘Jake-o-nomics’. Truly, it was the most unique selection of financial concepts that the world has ever seen…who cares if it made absolutely no sense at all?

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Does that poster appeal to you? No? What’s wrong with you!

If you do find yourself intrigued by a tale of undead Nazis living in the mountains of Norway, you will LOVE this movie.

It will definitely be coming along to the next cheezy movie night, along with Black Dynamite.

I found myself essentially live tweeting my thoughts while watching this fine epic, so I figure I’ll share those. It hadn’t been my intention to do so, but it was fun. Actually, a little side conversation started up with others who had seen the flick. Hell, I GAINED a new follower!

So, I’m just going to re-share my Twitter comments since they pretty much tell the tale without spoiling all of the sheer glory that this thing of beauty contains. Also, because I’m lazy. And no, this isn’t my ‘official’ blog entry for the day…that’s coming later.

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