Meet Jean

I forgot I had this jacket. It was in storage in Calary, shipped to Houston and while I was getting rid of my stuff in Houston I found it. I had it since I was 15 (it was swimming on me then). My friend Brad gave it to me. If it could talk there would be many stories to be told. Some good, some bad some disgraceful.

More Pictures of Nicaragua

In Old Man fashion I love watching the Pelicans on my Beach

My Big Day Out by Little Frankie MacDonald

After 3 months I finally got to see the Citadel and the Market. It was kind of distracting to have a CPO (Close Protection Office) or armed guard. But I did make a point of telling people to feck off and then point to his 9 mary mary and went on my way.

 

The citadel was basically closed for renovation. After all the friggin thing is 6000 years old. I went to the market and the have been doing commerce here for the past 6000 years and perhaps even 10,000. Nice merchants, easy going and not much dickering. I bought a carpet (of course) and a decorative plate.

I would say Erbil is not really third world and but not quite first world so my third than first. Ok, I am not sure, it is a city in Iraq.

I always liked this joke.

HER STORY:
He was in an odd mood when I got to the bar to meet him. I thought it might
have been because I was a bit late. He didn’t say anything much about it. He
seemed silent, distracted and his only eye contact seemed judgmental. I decided
maybe I should never wear that dress again. Well, maybe it was the color. Maybe
I should never wear this color again either. The conversation was so slow going
so I thought maybe we should go off somewhere more intimate so we could talk
more privately. He didn’t really seem to agree, but we went off to this quiet,
little restaurant and he’s STILL acting a bit funny and I’m trying to cheer him
up, be witty, and tell cute stories, but I start to wonder whether it’s me or
something else. He doesn’t smile much, so I ask him, but he says no. But you
know I’m not really sure. I wonder and then I think about the 5 pounds I gained
this past month. I bet he thinks I’m a fat hog now. Anyway, in the cab back to
his house, I say that I love him and he just puts his arm around me, but doesn’t
squeeze. I don’t know what the hell this all means or what I should think
because you know he doesn’t say it back or do anything. We finally get back to
his place and I’m wondering if he’s going to dump me. So I try to ask him about
it, but he just switches on the TV. Reluctantly, I say I’m going to sleep. Then,
after about 10 minutes or so, he joins me and we have sex. But, he still seems
really, really distracted, so afterwards I just wanted to leave. I roll over and
sniffle a little real quietly. He snores. I don�t know, I just don’t know, what
he thinks anymore. I mean, do you think he’s met someone else?

HIS STORY:
Hard day at work. Really tired. Got laid though.

A Few Good Men

A few good (Engineering) men

Engineering: “You want answers?”

Finance: “I think we are entitled to them!”

Engineering: “You want answers?!”

Finance: “I want the truth!”

Engineering: “You can’t handle the truth!!!”

Engineering (continuing): “Son, we live in a world that requires revenue. And that revenue must be brought in by people with elite skills. Who’s going to find it? You? You, Mr. Accountant ? We have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom.

You scoff at the Wells Division and you curse our lucrative incentives. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what we know: that while the cost of drilling are excessive, it drives in revenue.

And my very existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, drives REVENUE! You don’t want to know the truth because deep down in places you don’t talk about at staff meetings … you want me on that well. You NEED me on that well.

We use words like wire trip, circulation, logging, casing, day rates, perforating, tripping, mud lost, well bore. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent drilling wells. You use them as a punch line!

I have neither the time nor inclination to explain myself to people who rise and sleep under the very blanket of revenue I provide and then question the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said “thank you” and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you head to the lease and drill you own damn well. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you’re entitled to!”

Finance: “Did you expense the lap dances?”

Engineering: “I did the job I was hired to do.”

Finance: “Did you expense the lap dances?”

Engineering: “You’re goddamn right I did!”

 

You know you are Canadian when:

 

When you channel the spirits of Gordie Howe, Bobby Hull, Bobby Orr, and Wayne Gretzy (although I don’t think you should be channeling them yet as I think they are all alive) when you find a passible (ie pond hockey) rink in N. Iraq and think the greatest idea in the world would be to Fedex in a pair of skates and a couple of sticks from Calgary (which is according to my grade 5 geography memory 10,092.458 kms away). And at the giveaway price of nearly $1100.00 USD to ship aforementioned sports gear to Iraq it would be rude not to.

You know you are a well-paid international drilling engineer  when you do the above just for shits and giggles. As he was lighting Cuban’s with $1000 dollar bills he was saying that he was going to do this. And as the 100 year old brandy kicked in he said something about shipping over his favorite horse next.

Just in case CRA wants to audit him I have attached a picture. Now of course I would not mention names on the blog so I need to switch to code: His nameeh, is Jeffeh, Weisseh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alice in Chains

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
Eyes burn with stinging sweat
Seems every path leads me to nowhere
Wife and kids household pet
Army green was no safe bet
The bullets scream to me from somewhere

Here they come to snuff the rooster, aww yeah, hey yeah
Yeah here come the rooster, yeah
You know he ain't gonna die
No, no, no, ya know he ain't gonna die (x2)

Walkin' tall machine gun man
They spit on me in my home land
Gloria sent me pictures of my boy
Got my pills 'gainst mosquito death
My Buddy's breathin' his dyin' breath
Oh god please won't you help me make it through

Here they come to snuff the rooster, aww yeah
Yeah here come the rooster, yeah
You know he ain't gonna die
No, no, no ya know he ain't gonna die

 

I am not making this up. I think I have a fecking rooster following me. In Nicaragua, my neighbors are farmers. Cows, horses, chickens, roosters, and pigs abound. So I hear roosters crowing or cock a doodling doing its fecking head off but this seems to fall into the realm of normal.  

So when I moved to Houston I could a hear another fecking rooster. I live (or use to live in the Heights) which is kind of inner city but I could  hear a rooster. Every friggin morning I hear a rooster. I thought maybe it was  the acid that I did in university coming back to haunt me but my neighbor was hearing it to. And I don’t think we were doing the same acid.

Every morning this thing would craw or crow or bark or whatever a rooster does and alas and alack I would wake up and think I am being stocked by a Nicaraguan rooster.

So now I am spooked and decide the demonic thing will never find me in Iraq. So that was the main reason for moving here and now I think I am safe from the Killer Rooster. And this was true for the first two months.

But now I am now looking after my coworkers dog and there is a rooster beside me and it goes nuts every morning at 4 am and Saxon the neurotic wonder dog goes nuts at 1 second after 4:00 am. Erbil is a city and having a rooster in your back yard is much akin to having a cow in your backyard in Toronto. I believe I am in grave danger.

 

But I don’t think the stocking rooster wants to slit my throat, claw my eyes out  but I do believe the evil bastard is trying to deprive me of sleep.

 

Pray for Frankie