tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-141834462024-03-13T03:41:22.037-07:00Going Postal with Pryvett RawgersPryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-82679147588031404232008-01-31T14:24:00.000-08:002009-03-26T16:12:26.383-07:00Revenge of the Empire<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguo_tDjf0yTdjyh8gfTRZINtFP_635uDlhkbmppetbO5YVMrKsQIygA6apviXfxNbQh3syixhvldGWM9r6ybJtnxSTrXiqt8PwwuvLdELFDrnFKC2SELUoqpGecgWUjIzH94KW/s1600-h/boomerangkid.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguo_tDjf0yTdjyh8gfTRZINtFP_635uDlhkbmppetbO5YVMrKsQIygA6apviXfxNbQh3syixhvldGWM9r6ybJtnxSTrXiqt8PwwuvLdELFDrnFKC2SELUoqpGecgWUjIzH94KW/s320/boomerangkid.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161780018994389218" /></a><br />A poor aussie bloke, Craig Donaldson 23, thought he might take a backpacking tour of the old country, England that is. He was visiting Greenwich Park in London, when all of a sudden out of the blue he was hit by a, wait for it, he was hit in the head by a bloody boomerang. He suffered a nasty gash to the head. His assailant was a precious little short-panted kid. Talk about a case of cosmic irony, was this guy doing something wrong in his past life. The chances of that happening are about the same as me myself being hit by a flying beaver, being a canuck. 1 in a trillion chances, it goes to show you this sure is a strange world we inhabit.<br /><br />I can imagine the horrible little gobsitte going home for tea, after a hard day harassing us colonial types. I bet the little rotters name is Colin, typical gobsitte name. He walks throught the door, and his proud mother bellows"O Colin, How was your day, up to anything exciting". Colin replies " O Mommy I was down at the park and saw one of those horrid colonials prowling around" Mommy " Good lord Colin are you ok, what did you?". Colin I showed him what for Mommy, I gave him a good clout around the ears with me boomerang". Mommy" By Jove Colin what a clever boy you are, after all England should be for the English, not those bloody colonial types". Colin" You got that right Mommy, can I have some pudding for afters". O those quaint British.<br /><br />So my fellow colonials if you are planning a trip to jolly old England keep your wits about you and keep watching the Sky and watch out for little kids named Colin.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-68634346144895567902007-08-27T17:53:00.000-07:002007-08-29T15:57:04.216-07:00Best of the Worst of YouTubeAt first I felt kind of bad laughing at these kids. I thought this performance was taking place at some high school or college, and they were part of some kind of glee or drama club. I found out recently that they are actually Dutch idol contestants at a professional football match. If these are the best singers Holland can put up, man we have nothing to worry about in the rest of the music competition world. Please laugh at them, it's good for your health.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WJ1b0LBcWq8"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WJ1b0LBcWq8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-2119651265137488352007-05-24T16:12:00.001-07:002008-12-10T17:37:51.438-08:00What If ?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3qB7zzj916KsbTddF5jhYqrJTCIw09ri5C-Wr8AwsYbnPPfvlAKXw_DL5Zr4sbkNqbZmkmdgMAg3tjfyU_gFNA3qwHxDS5AeHMc8bxnj86cYUhofzKxb_EmaF1iw2R9MR_2Q/s1600-h/Christmas+Truce.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3qB7zzj916KsbTddF5jhYqrJTCIw09ri5C-Wr8AwsYbnPPfvlAKXw_DL5Zr4sbkNqbZmkmdgMAg3tjfyU_gFNA3qwHxDS5AeHMc8bxnj86cYUhofzKxb_EmaF1iw2R9MR_2Q/s320/Christmas+Truce.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068304358757335170" /></a><br />One christmas past I was listening to christmas music on the radio. There were the usually well loved hynms and old standards. When all of a sudden a song came up about a most particular event that happened during the great war to end all wars. This beautiful song really struck me as a song that truly illustrates the true meaning and spirit of christmas more than any other song I have heard. The song was written bt John McCutcheon in 1984 and is called "The Christmas Truce"; about a truce on the western front during the first yule time of the war.<br /><br />The First World War can be considered one of the most terrible in history. The full industrial might of the European powers were used against each other, with horrific results. A generation of young men were lost due to the terrible effects of the machine gun, quick firing artillery, and gas. The dominant feature of this war was the trench. Due to these new terrible weapons, the men had to dig a series of trenches to protect themselves. In western Europe the trench line ran from Switzerland north to the english channel. These trenches were mainly glorified ditches which were filled with water and crawling with rats. The troops had to endure living in these ditches for 4 bloody years. Also the effect of modern arillery turned the green fields of France and Belgium into lifless moonscapes full of unburied corpses and mud. All these elements added together made this war literally hell on earth.<br /><br />Out of this terrible war of blood and mud, there were some stories of the intrisic goodness of mankind and hope. In the first year of the war, the intial battles were fought over wide open fields with fast moving armies, but already the troops began to take note of the terrible killing power of modern weapons. So as a result by that winter they have already began to seek refuge in trenches, which would be the main tactical element forthe rest of the war.<br /><br />This spontaneous christmas truce; mainly happened in the British sector of the Ypres salient, which was basically a bulge into the Germans lines. According to eryewitness accounts, mainly British ones. On the night of December 25, there was all kinds of noise and movement along the German trench lines. Germans were standing up in their trenches with no free of getting shot and christmas trees with candles were being put up over the parapet. Also they could hear the beautiful German hymn "Stille Nacht, Heilge Nacht" (Silent Night, Holy Night) wafting over from the Fritz's lines, the brits replied with some of their traditional carols and songs. Soon men from both sides were seen moving out into no-man's land towards each others's trenches. In some sectors notes of peace and good tidings were tied around rocks or grenades and tossed at the enemy's trenches. Soon caution gave way to the spirit of the night and the trenches began to empty of men and they began to meet as comrades in no-man's- land. There they exchanged food and drink, tobacco, talked and sang, and in one report there was a friendlly football game between the Brits and germans, illuminated by flares. Some of the men also exchanged home address so they could write to each other after the war. They also showed pictures of loved ones to each other and talked of their homes and families.<br /><br />The truce went on for a few more days, until the higher ups began to find out about this unauthorised fraternisation and forbide them from meeting each other. You can not win a war by humanizing the enemy, lets get back to the great old european tradition of butchering each other, for king and kaiser and all that. The next christmas of 1915 orders were given so as not to have a repeat and artillery barrages were ordered on the nights around christmas.<br /><br /><br /><br />There was a telling incident in the sector occupied by the London Scottish during this event. They were across the way from a saxon regiment and it seems that they got on famously. It seems that the Saxons were expecting some staff officers to show up around midnight on one of the days of the truce. So they seen a message to the Scots tellingt them that around midnight on that particular night they would be firing their machine gfuns to impresss these higher ups. They added in thier message that they would be firing high above thier heads so as not to hit anyone, nice chaps what?<br /><br /><br />You must think the old pryvett is getting soft in the head, but no. I have always loved this song and I just found the lyrices to it and i always wanted to share it with other people. It gives one hope in the intrisic goodness of us all, that there is a chance that we may someday get our act together and come together as one, and get on making this world truly a better place. I know I am starting to sound like John Lennon, but just imagine. If these fellows who were just hours before were trying to literally rip each others guts out can come together in such warmth and fellowship, I think there is hope for us.<br /><br />Also this great event has me asking What if? What if this truce spread along the lines and everyone realizes the that we are all the same underneath with mothers, fathers,brothers, sisters, wifes, and children and they dropped there arms and went home. That they told all the kings, princes, prime ministers, and generals to get stuffed and fight their own war, would history be different. would the 20th centuary be one of the bloodest in history? Would World War I be truly the war to end all wars: I don't know, but the question does haunt me. Speaking of families one of the ironic facts of this war was most of the european royal families were related. They were all connected by Queen Victoria of great Britian whoes children married into the royal houses of Europe. The German Kaiser was her grandson. What a family squabble, too bad they could not keep it behind closed doors, and not drag millions of others into it.<br /><br />Well below is the lyrices to this great song. One small quibble I have with the song is the authors makes reference to gas in it. The problem with that is gas was not used on the western front until the second battle of Ypres in april of 1915. Well It is used to good efect, because gas is one of the terrible iconic weapons of this war and he makes an artistic point with it.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Christmas in the Trenches<br />by John McCutcheon<br />My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool.<br />Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.<br />To Belgium and to Flanders, to Germany to here<br />I fought for King and country I love dear.<br />'Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung,<br />The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung<br />Our families back in England were toasting us that day<br />Their brave and glorious lads so far away.<br /><br />I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground<br />When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound<br />Says I, "Now listen up, me boys!" each soldier strained to hear<br />As one young German voice sang out so clear.<br />"He's singing bloody well, you know!" my partner says to me<br />Soon, one by one, each German voice joined in harmony<br />The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more<br />As Christmas brought us respite from the war<br />As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent<br />"God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" struck up some lads from Kent<br />The next they sang was "Stille Nacht." "Tis 'Silent Night'," says I<br />And in two tongues one song filled up that sky<br />"There's someone coming toward us!" the front line sentry cried<br />All sights were fixed on one long figure trudging from their side<br />His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shown on that plain so bright<br />As he, bravely, strode unarmed into the night<br />Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's Land<br />With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand<br />We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well<br />And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave 'em hell<br />We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home<br />These sons and fathers far away from families of their own<br />Young Sanders played his squeezebox and they had a violin<br />This curious and unlikely band of men<br /><br />Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more<br />With sad farewells we each prepared to settle back to war<br />But the question haunted every heart that lived that wonderous night<br />"Whose family have I fixed within my sights?"<br />'Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost, so bitter hung<br />The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung<br />For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war<br />Had been crumbled and were gone forevermore<br /><br />My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell<br />Each Christmas come since World War I, I've learned its lessons well<br />That the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame<br />And on each end of the rifle we're the same<br /><br />© 1984 John McCutcheon - All rights reserved<br /><br /><br />Here is a link to a video fo the song with John McCutheon; <br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9coPzDx6tAPryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-25733436898549194032007-01-09T14:49:00.000-08:002008-12-10T17:37:51.628-08:00Whack Your Boss!!!!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2z2qz6CjDxe2DAb9_6t6rFJyIvqUfhxoud46C6Xk6_pARPJYyStNuLiq-LbXrNENl4IRxDy5DWU3Oi0WL57tkifK0NuyKC4uKJk1PNdmc1TOTB-2y3OsgAasYkaaGFaTFqKx3/s1600-h/machette+to+head.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5024925475178459570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2z2qz6CjDxe2DAb9_6t6rFJyIvqUfhxoud46C6Xk6_pARPJYyStNuLiq-LbXrNENl4IRxDy5DWU3Oi0WL57tkifK0NuyKC4uKJk1PNdmc1TOTB-2y3OsgAasYkaaGFaTFqKx3/s320/machette+to+head.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Continuing with a favorite theme of mine, as my contribution to good mental health, I would like to present this little tidbit. I was forwarded this great little game. Imagine you come home from another dreay day at work, being lorded over by your version of the blind idiot god, ie your boss. Well my friends do I have the cure for you. This game is called <strong>Whack Your Boss</strong>, O Boy!<br /><br />In the game you will see a typical overworked, overstressed employee, being verbally abused by his elongated headed boss, who just keeps blathering on and on, because he believe that the world likes to hear his glorious pronouncements and the sound of his voice. Placed around the cubical are various tools and implements, which with the right attitute can be used to inflict great bodly harm on a human being. There are suppose to be 15 tools of rightious vengence in the room, you get a point for everone you find. When you click on an object, the meek and mellow fellow explodes in a rage of glorious violence, and makes the head idiot pay for ever insult and sin he has committed. The results can be very bloody and O so satisfying. Some of the objects are less ovious, so keep clicking around. The old pryvatte only found 13 out of 15, which surprised me, because I was totally body and soul into this game.<br /><br />So enjoy the game workers of the world, there is nothing so satisfying as plunging a pen into your bosse's eye socket, O sorry I mean figuratively of course, not for real, He He He. Hey I am dealing with my issues here in a constructive and safe way. A footnote, the fellow who sent me this game is one of my best friends and he is part of the management cabal, but he is an acception to the rule. He is a stand up guy, I wish there were more chaps like him in management; work may actually be a more pleasant place. I must conceal his name to protect the innocence. Well get whacking, O sorry that does not sound right , you know what I mean. Here is the LinK <a href="http://www.addictinggames.com/whackyourboss.html">http://www.addictinggames.com/whackyourboss.html</a> Enjoy and se if you can beat my score</div>Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1164668087072608362006-11-27T13:11:00.000-08:002008-12-10T17:37:51.781-08:00I May be Houndni's Son??<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh86XwAeqcu1YIS2j5ZnLgCWYvgXizmepv7u6JxkkL_iE70m20jGlGPoL0nMY8S6hreGCymYBJIZyTixAQlMzEymgq8Sg5O4RqhQpaYktx4LG1BWVyqEnsKLodBT_9_2w2fk6Cc/s1600-h/houdini_index.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023393683682275714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh86XwAeqcu1YIS2j5ZnLgCWYvgXizmepv7u6JxkkL_iE70m20jGlGPoL0nMY8S6hreGCymYBJIZyTixAQlMzEymgq8Sg5O4RqhQpaYktx4LG1BWVyqEnsKLodBT_9_2w2fk6Cc/s320/houdini_index.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This past Halloween my dear old dad turned 80 years old, my how time flies when you are having fun. Good God ya all, that means I must be getting up there my self. I better break out the Grecian formula, extra strength. Well enough about my vanity, there is an interesting and strange fact about my dad's birthday that is kind of eerie and weird. He was born the same day and year as the great magician Houndini died: October 31, 1926. Another weird fact is; Houndini died at the grace hospital in Detroit, Michigan right across the river from where my dad and I presently live, OOO that's scary.<br /><br />Houndini, arguable one of the greatest magicians in history was felled by peritonites, a condition caused by the rupturing of the appendix, that poisons the body. He had a trick where he would take full power punches to his body and not be harmed by flexing his abdominal muscles. In during a show in Montreal a certain McGill university student named J. Gordon Whitehead came back stage and punched Houndini before he was ready, thus rupturing his appendix. Houndini being the consummate showman soldiered on to his next gig in Detroit. He collaspsed on stage there and died in hospital a few days later. I must add a footnote, hey way to be to a Canadian for be resposible for the death of the great Houndini. Stand up job Mr Whitehead, you need a metal or something.<br /><br />Anyways, due to the fact that my dear old dad entered this veil of tears the same day as houndini left, made me think of an intriguing possibility. That my dad is the reincarnation of Houndini, there are many striking similarities between them First as I said before Houndini could probly be argued to be one of the greatest magicians and escapist in the world. He had a great mechanical aptitude and could design and build great complex magic tricks.My dad, being a professional engineer, has a great aptitude and ability to design. I know in his professional life he was always desiging and figuring out problems. On the domestic front if anything needed to be fixed or renovated or added to my father would get out the pencil and paper and figure it out. We saved thousands of dollars on repair and contractor's bills, due to my dad's great ability to solve problems, maybe they should send him to the middle east to figure that mess out. That maybe even beyond his capabilities.<br /><br />Houndini was a master at disappearing, so is my father, especially when he goes to the Canadian Tire store or Wal- mart. Sometimes we have to send in a tracking dog to find him.<br /><br />Another weird fact is althought my father was born in Niaragra Falls, Ontario, he ultimately ended up residing in and around Windsor, Ontario right across the river from Detroit. Could this be an example of Houndini"s spirit returning to the place of it's death for some strange reason. I do not know this maybe a case for the X-files.<br /><br />Another fact to think about was Houndini was indirectly killed by a McGill university student. My dad is a graduate of the University Of Toronto , could this be an example of college rivarly gone way too far. I do not know it gives one something to ponder. I do not know if I have inherited any of Houndini's?<br />/Dad's traits. I really do not have much of an mechanical aptitude. I have more of interest in history or books, and asian nurses(O Sorry, I digress). I am not really good at making thinks disappear, except for food and people's patience. Sometimes I do get lost and disappear. Well I am not totally sure if I believe in reincarnation, but It makes one wonder, eh?<br /><br />I found out some other strange facts about Houndini's death, when I was researching it. First of all he was 52 years of age when he went to the great beyond. 52 is the exact number of cards in a deck of playing cards, one of the basic parts of a magicians bag of tricks, interesting, eh? He was born 26 years before the start of the 20th century and he died 26 years after the 20th century started. Also 26 X 2 is 52. Also I have been written up exactly 26 times at work for disciplinary problems. O the hairs on the back of my neck are going up.<br /><br />I would just like to say in conclusion, Happy birthday to my dear old dad. I could not ask for a better and kinder father, who has helped me innumerable times over the years and has shown a great amount of love and patience, and is a great role model to me. Thanks for everything dad and may you rant and roar for another 80years.</div>Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1158188114270141972006-09-13T15:00:00.000-07:002008-12-10T17:37:51.944-08:00Sock That Bastard Right In The Nose.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnvwZXOJfXw71hDRZStwVtcjq9or2sd3cli5ieNDmhNJDrKPrilq2stxNO7eY5_H4XpJCtpDjGja_6qAzH5IRP1w2rh_GY3Z6un1ONPcKP4bbh3_bNeSYcvI6kDRNcQvCvP7G/s1600-h/Boxing.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023392094544376178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnvwZXOJfXw71hDRZStwVtcjq9or2sd3cli5ieNDmhNJDrKPrilq2stxNO7eY5_H4XpJCtpDjGja_6qAzH5IRP1w2rh_GY3Z6un1ONPcKP4bbh3_bNeSYcvI6kDRNcQvCvP7G/s320/Boxing.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>As I was suffering at work, watching the one celled bits of protoplasm they call managers doing their thing. An idea struck me like a hammer of the gods. I know here in north america we have such events as secretary days, bring your brat to work day, and bosses day( I do not know why), we should have an employee"s day, that will really bring the spirits of them up. I believe we should have a Punch Your Boss in the Nose Day. Imagine what a morale builder this would be, it would bring up productivity dramatically, if the poor downtrodden employee gets to let his boss know what he really feels about him. It would be a true barometer of a manager's performance, if this person gets the shit punched out of them Every year, I think that would be a good sign that this person is most likely not doing a good job, and the upper uppity ups should look into this persons performance. This event would not enforce mandatory violence, if the boss is really a good person and manager, they have nothing to fear from their underlings, but on the other hand if they are the typical blind idiot god, than God help them.<br /><br />Where I work and slave we take a online survey to get a feeling about how we really feel. I believe that many of the results are bogus, because I hear all the time from my fellow slaves how the place is badly run and how they hate working there. Unfortunately when the results of the survey come out, there are like 75% approval rates, yeah right. I believe the results are tampered with or some of my fellow workers lose their nerve when they are in the voting booth. A lot of the times the company splits a shift between two supervisors, usually one is a prick and the other one is pretty decent, so they get you to split your vote, between the two. So you can never totally say your super is good or bad. To get around this I go with the negative so the gobshiie manager will hopefully get his. The company uses this survey mainly as a means to placate us docile sheep into thinking, Gee they really care what we think, man are they ever swell. Instead of using it as a learning tool to fix what is wrong, it is used as a PR ploy. Just think how much more effective a little ultra violence would be to their fact finding mission.<br /><br />This practice would make a more decent human class of blind idiot gods. If they knew that due to their actions, their underlings would be letting them know how they feel about their performance with their fists and feet, they may think twice about their asshole ways and smarten up and fly right.<br /><br />As far as how this would work, I have two ideas. The first may let the boss off a little. The idiot would be fitted with a boxing helmet, chest protector, and a groin cup. The employee would wear a pair of boxing gloves and would be allowed to pound away for 3 minutes or so. Kicking or eyegouging would not be allowed. They could hit anywhere on the body. The second way or the pryette way, would be everything goes, punching, kicking, kneeing and grappling, with no pads for the idiot. Would this not be much more satisfying, OO the power and the glory, what fun. An added bonus would be after a session like this the boss would have an all expenses paid medical vacation. Winners all away around.<br /><br />I know I sound like a dreamer, but I am not the only one, please consider this new day or holiday it would do wonders for the morale and mental health of the work force. Remember punch a boss a day keep the blues away.</div>Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1156561754754360632006-08-25T18:19:00.000-07:002009-03-26T16:25:29.450-07:00You Can Get Anything You Want At Hitler's Restaurant<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtxSO26yVFKFYNfmp44MbW-ob14XESKi63ZvGDFEFiOv4ZDyyJjG8uvGBbsTGBrT46_OXvrV5ayHd1Nvd_07EdwWcrxXn1dpyslCtZ8q1MiqapRlGMRsJcrRFCMykx_3wNwX4/s1600-h/hitler-eating.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 188px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtxSO26yVFKFYNfmp44MbW-ob14XESKi63ZvGDFEFiOv4ZDyyJjG8uvGBbsTGBrT46_OXvrV5ayHd1Nvd_07EdwWcrxXn1dpyslCtZ8q1MiqapRlGMRsJcrRFCMykx_3wNwX4/s320/hitler-eating.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317641613244428530" /></a><br />Imagine that you are going out for a nice sunday afternoon meal with your family at a fine restaurant, and to your horror a great portrait of Herr Hitler greets you as you enter the building. No this is not some crazy scene from a Mel Brooke's film, but reality. Yes a crazy Indian businessman has opened "The Hitler's Cross" restaurant in a Mumbai, India, (used to be called Bombay). This mad so called genius; Punit Shabalok actually said "we are not promoting Hitler", "we want to be different. This is one name that will stay in people's minds, we want to be different in the way he was different". So you want to be different like the little corporal, what a great marketing ploy. So you want to be a hateful homicidal ranting madman, with delusions of grandeur, what a way to run a restaurant. Hey wait a minute, read my blog about blind idiot gods, this guy maybe on to something. Another pearl of wisdom from the manager: Fatima Kabane: "" This place is not about wars or crimes, but where people come to relax and enjoy a meal". quite a disconnect there, fatima. Nothing says fine dining to me like the third Reich and memories of world war II, and the holocaust.<br /><br />As I said before the inner decor is very striking indeed, not only is there the large picture of one of the greatest mass murders in history hanging on the wall. there is a tasteful motif of swastikas all over the walls, with a relaxing colour scheme of red, white and black, the official colors of the nazi party. The road leading to this house of mirth and relaxation is bordered with posters advertising the restaurant. One which proclaims"From small bites to mega Joy". That sounds like something from right from the nazi ministry of propaganda. These guys have all the bases covered.<br /><br />I believe Mr Shabalok is crazy like a fox. I think he knows precisely what kind of response he will get by using such an infamous name, loads and loads of free publicity.. He knows that in India there is little chance of any major repercussions due to many factors. First there are only about 5,500 jews in all of india. Secondly historical awareness about the holocaust and the third Reich are not great in his country. To many of the average indians, Hitler is just another historical figure like Martim Luther King. This is not surprising, we in the west have a historical blind spot too, many people are ignorant of 20th century history, and we also have holocaust deniers in our mist. Also the swastika in india has a long ancient history. It is used in Buddhist art and is considered a good luck symbol in Hinduism. So he does not really have much to worry about from the general public or the government. I would be worried myself due to karma, I think he maybe pushing his luck cosmically. Also he may have to worry about an Israeli airstrike, you know they are not making jews like Jesus anymore, they do not turn their cheek, just ask hamas.<br /><br />I was wondering what the menu would be like there, traditional german food, but I feel that this guy has a real marketing flair. So we may get entrees like swastika steak with a side of blitzkrieg potatoes, or U-Boat swordfish with deep fryed depth charges. You know something really punchy and memorable like that. Gee I wonder if they have a seperate kosher menu? The owner also said he is thinking of opening more franchises in the future. I know some great potential locations. I would open a whole lot in the middle east, I bet they would go over like the protocols of zion at an meeting of the Iran government. I would also open up some in south america to take advantage of the nazis in exile market. They are problaly a little homesick after being underground since the end of world war II, give them a little light in their twilight years. I wonder if Mel Gibson is going to buy a franchise, hey you never know stranger things have happened.<br /><br />This fiasco reminds me of another what the hell were they thinking moment from hollywood. It happened in a very good film called "Out of Focus", It was a biopic about the actor Bob Krane, who had some very strange hobbies. While any ways his one claim to fame was he starred in a 60's sitcom called "Hogan"s Heroes". What was so unique about this show was it took place in a german prisoner of war camp during WW II. I believe it was the first and last time a comedy series took place in a POW camp. O the comic possibilities. While any ways according to the film I saw the producers of this series decided to have a press reception after the first season to prompt it more. This was standard practice in show business, the only problem was that all the wait staff were dressed in SS uniforms. The fact that US show business is made up of a lot of people of jewish decent, did not bode well for these producers. I do not know if there were any negative repercussions, but I imagine their junket went over like a lead zepplian. You just have to shake your head sometimes, and wonder how mankind has progresses so far. I think it is by sure dumb blind luck sometime.<br /><br />I think this sorry episode shows one of the curses of mankind very well. That being that we collectively forget, as the events of the past get further and further away and as the people die off who lived throught these events they lose their significant, lessons and thier horrors in some cases. That's why I believe that history is an important and vital subject that most be taught to our young especially, so we do not forget the horrors and triumpths of the past, so we are not cursed to repeat them over and over again.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1154299814091302132006-07-30T15:47:00.000-07:002006-07-30T15:50:14.103-07:00Da Vinci Code Warning!!!!!!!I just received news urgent news about a dire threat concerning The Da Vinci Code movie. I can not reveal my source, but lets just say that I know a guy behind a guy, behind a guy who is well connected to one of the top western intelligence agencies., so throught this tenuous link, I was lucky enough to receive the info. Well the earth shattering news is that certain reactionary forces in the christan church will start a suicide bombing campaign to shut down the showingof this film. I know it is a little late to start their campaign, but they feel that the public and movie chains will be taken completely off guard by the lateness of their campaign and the fact that some of the bombers maybe quite eldery and it may take them awhile to get going.<br /><br />I guess the people behind this campaign felt that the islamic bombers were making such a splash in the world for thier cause, that they should emulate them. As you may know, Islam has no monopoly on religious extremism. Us christans have had are share. The bloody crusades, the inquisition, which knowone every expects, the Mormons, and the PTL club, O GOD! I guess that extremism in a cause you believe in has never been a sin to us mere mortals.<br /><br />According to the latest intell, the group that will be mainly caring out this campaign of terror, is an obscure ultraorthodox order of Albanian nuns called the Sisters of the Wandering Uterus. It is said that these sisters are so fierce that opus Die does not even try to mess with them. It is said that their average age is between 70-80 yrs of age. Due to this fact I was wondering how the behind the scenes guys could motivate these women to commit suicide in such a spectacular way. I know for instance that the islamic bombers are promised 75 virgins in paradise if they die for their religion. Which does not make sense in some regards. The bombers who die for so called religious reasons, like Bin Laden's lot are attacking the west for are so called decadence and lack of morals yet in their heavan I guess massive orgies with them at the centre are ok, go figure. Anyways what did the brains behind this Da Vinci attacks promise the sisters, a nice cuppa tea and a comfie chair in heavan. Who knows.<br /><br />So if you are going to see the Da Vinic code and you see a pregnant nun walk in, her bulge under her habit is not the result of an immaculate reception, thats 40 lbs of plastic explosive. So either put your head between your knees and pray or run like OJ Simpson use to throught airports. Hey just a friendly warning I do not make the news I just report it. I am glad I have already seen the code, and I must say it was not bad, it did not drag at all. So be ever watchful.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1153953354255862642006-07-26T14:55:00.000-07:002006-08-01T18:13:14.676-07:00Blind Idiot Gods<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h178/mattamand/The-Great-Old-Ones-Front.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h178/mattamand/The-Great-Old-Ones-Front.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />My reference in the title is from one of my favorite writers, that being the great horror writer H.P Lovecraft. It refers to one of his creations, that being a senseless and uncaring godlike being. I will use it to refer to the management class of the corporate world. What is it about being giving a little plastic badge with the word manager or executive on it turns an average person into one of these horrid gods. It seems that as soon as they are promoted they forget or put aside everything they has learned about decent behaviour from their schools, parents, priests, rabbies, and imans aside, and transformed into a new amoral being.<br /><br />I believe the title of my blog describes this class perfectly. Many of them believe that they are godlike beings that know all and should not be questioned. They became managers because on the whole they are smarter and better than the average worker, they must be otherwise they would not have been promoted They are usually blind to the reality around them or choose to be blind to advance the corporate agenda. For example they are good at double standards, they Will treat their ass kissing toadies different than the other workers who will not plant their lips on their divine behinds. Another big problem is they are childlike, petty, and spiteful, but with a lot of power in their hands, which is a very bad combination, just think of all the great dictators in history. Many are prone to temper tantrums and have the power to make the people's lives miserable under them, because they can. A lot of them get a great thrill having this ability to power trip without any consequences. Also I find a lot of them do not really have a great amount of common sense. They seem to do things, because that's the way the corporate manual says or they are just not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Many of then can not really seem to think on their feet. It is beyond me how some of these feeble minded types got to the positions they have. O well it goes to show you the power of ass kissing to some extent, and the human want to surround yourself with people like yourself, therefore assholes of a feather stick together, like men to boys in a turkish prison.<br /><br />I know I am generalizing about managers to some extent, but in my experience in corporate canada, I have never seen such a bunch of amoral cretinous rogues as in some of the people I have laboured under. I know there are some good people in this class, but they seem to be in the minority. There are always exceptions to a rule, but on the whole I would not want be stuck in a room for any length of time with these so called leaders of business.<br /><br />Don't you think it would make more sense to a business to sweep away this great mass of spoiled spiteful children and get a new group of people who are more mature and have some ethics. I believe with better management it would increase morale in a company, thus increase productivity, thus making a stronger company, with more profits, and create a welcoming work place where you don't have to sell your soul to get ahead. Call me a dreamer, but I am not the only one, that feels this way.<br /><br />Throught covert ways I just found out how they pick management types where I work. I guess intelligent in one attribute they look for, but I don't know after the example of some of the doorknobs I have suffered under, some of them would be intellectually challenged by a piece of sandpaper. It seems one of the main attributes they do look for is ruthlessness and the ability to do what needs to be done for the good of the company. I found out about a couple of tests that they use to test this attribute. I believe these tests where developed and perfected during the third reich. They were used by nazi party officials to find suitable candiates for the upper echelons of the party.<br /><br />Do you ever wonder what happens to many of the stray kittens that wander our streets,well I will tell you. The first test, is the candiate is lead into a room filled with adorable kittens and a table with a hammer on it. The object of the test is for the candiate to kill as many kittens as they can with their bare hands, within a set time limit. They may use the hammer if they want, but this maybe seen as a negative by the examiners in their final judgment. The scoring is as follows, 1-3 kittens; junior management, 4-8 kittens; middle management; 8 or more kitties killed and you hit the big time; executive or even CEO, you are on the fast track.<br /><br />The second test involves sensors being hook up to the candiate's genitlia, and sensors that measure heart and breathing rates. They are shown a series of pictures, like pictures of families, children, homes, and animals, maybe it is not a good idea to show them pictures of kitties. They are also shown horrible pictures of atrocities, warfare, and pictures of great dictators and criminals. If the monitors regrister any arousal during the horrid pictures, that is concidered a good thing, and will go in their favour.<br /><br />Believe it or not their are some great people who are supervisors where I work, I do not know for the life of me how they got throught these tests. I guess the powers that be have to let some decent people through for public and employee relations, so they do not seem all bad.<br /><br />Here is a work up date for you. Where I live there has been a heat wave, which makes working even more miserable. The temperatures have been in the 80's and 90's with the humidity about the same. As you may know from my prior blogs, I work in a warehouse with no air conditioning, so it is usually hotter in the warehouse than outside. While any ways, canada customs brings their drug sniffer dogs in the warehouse ever once in a while to make a run. A couple of weeks ago their foray was cancelled, why you may ask, because it was too hot for the dogs to work! Unbelievable it was too hot for the dogs, but not us humans, ain't that a kick in the teeth. Sometimes I feel like I am trapped in some Franz Krafka novel. When will the insanity stop. A silver lining for those of you, who like to send your chemicals in the mail, wait until it is hot, when those dogs are on hiatus, your chances of being intercepted are pretty low.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1150155184044041572006-06-12T16:10:00.000-07:002006-06-23T18:15:57.083-07:00Zoroaster, Jesus, Buddha Mohammed, ... L. Ron Hubbard?<a href="http://www.scientology-kills.org/dead/dead.htm">Scientology Kills</a><br /><br />If you are interested in the great prophet L. Ron Hubbard and his wacky church. The church that is based on the ideas of schlock scfi. The church that brings better living throught mind control. The church that brings mental hygiene to thousands throught their expensive courses, and the church that strokes the already bloated egos of some of hollywood's elite, than go to this website and find out the uncensored truth from former members and victims. Try not to read it on a full stomach.<br /><br />If you think the thesis put forth in the <i>The Da Vinci Code</i> is beyond the pale, you should go to the Church of Scientology, where you will be amazed and baffle-gaffed.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1149283166881495972006-06-02T13:46:00.000-07:002006-07-30T15:54:22.976-07:00Now that's Customer Service.I want to relate to you a heartwarming christmas story that happened in the big city next to where I live. The city in question is Windsor, Ontario, Canada. First of all, Windsor is known as the sin capital of Canada, in certain quarters. We have a casino and a thriving bingo industry. We have what is referred to as the windsor ballet, which are our 1st rate strip bars. They are popular with our american friends, because the strippers take everything off, tops and bottoms, hubba, hubba. Also we have many bars in the downtown core that cater to hoards of unwashed drunken american youths. On a weekend nights if you are foolhardy enough to go downtown you have to jump between puddles of vomit and blood. If you are an ultimate fighting fan, you should come on down and save some money for there are free fights going on everywhere. It is like you are on the set of a Chuck Norris movie ,although some of their techinques are quite weak, not up to the standards of BUM Fights.Also your ears are assaulted by hoards of drunken teenage girls, yelling; whooo. whoo, whooo, like they have a chipmunk in their pants. I should tell you that Windsor is a border town right across the river from the great Detroit, Michigan. The drinking age in michigan is 21yrs, and the drinking age in my province is 18, so you can see the bar owners of Windsor have a real goldmine just across the river.<br /><br />While any ways there are some uplifing stories on the mean streets of canada's sin city. This one unfolded at the A&P grocery store in the more run down west side of town. By the way The A&P is one of Canada's oldest and largest grocery chains. Well anyways, this particular store is opened 24 hours, but due to the christmas holiday, they decided to close the store early for the day.. The problem was they left the lights on and the doors open. This was truly a case of "lights on, but no one home". It was a normal shopping day for many people, so the store began to fill up with customers, but no staff was there to serve them.<br /><br />eventually about 20 people were in line at the checkout, and were patiently waiting for to be checked out. Finally after a quarter of an hour someone woke up and realizes that there was no staff to be found. They did the noble thing and called the police. The police showed up with some management types. The amazing news was it seemed that nothing was taken. Which was suprising due to the fact that this store was located in a area of the city that was kind of run down and had a higher crime rate than other metro areas. The wonders of the season. Of course the spokesperson or spokesthing, whatever you call them now a days had no comment. I have a feeling that a few employees were given a pink slip for christmas, OOHHH, OOHHH, OOOH, now that's christmas.<br /><br />My first reaction to this story was: is the level of service in that store so bad that the customers did not even realize that there were no employees there? Boy the idea of customer service has really taken a beating in the last couple of decades. Than I thought, well it was a late night run to the store, maybe many of the people were tired and were in a type of trance, they were just going throught the motions. It is very similar to the way I am at work, you know like "Night of the Living Dead" mode. Or maybe the people there were not the sharpest knives in the drawer, if you know what I mean. OR some of them may have felt that it was a new self serve store. On finally thought, I believe it had something to do with the power of the spirit of the season. Very heartwarming story in many ways and a lesson on customer service.<br /><br />This story, which I believe Paul Harvey will try to swipe for his radio commentary can be found in the Windsor Star windsorstar/index.html. If you are interested in the going ons in Canada's sin city, give it a look see.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1147743592568607642006-05-15T18:01:00.000-07:002006-05-15T18:39:52.580-07:00A Modest ProposalThe old pryvette was thinking about mother's day and the fact that according to many news reports, there is a major decline in the birthrates of the western world Why is the reason? One major reason is the sure cost of child raising in our modern societies, due to the high cost of living and high taxation rates. Another factor is people are waiting until they are older to get married. Thus the older a mother is , the higher the chances of complications in developing and delivering a baby. Also many women are choosing a career over good old childrearing.<br /><br />What are the consequences of this dire fact. Well it is simple math, the smaller a population, the smaller the work force, the smaller the tax base. Therefore the state can not afford to fund and maintain their social programs as they did in the past. For example pensions may not be as generous as they were. therefore people may have to work longer to just get by.<br /><br />So we need to increase the amount of babies that are born, So in the spirit of good citizenship, the pryvette would like to offer his services to the women of the western world. If you want a baby come see the pryvette, I will fix my bayonet and charge into the breach with much elan, and give it the old college try. If you can not meet me for a pryvette session, no worries. Just send me a washed jam jar and I will try to fill it in a week or so. This fits perfectly, I just remembered that ,May is national masturbation month in Canada, what a weird coincidence., But I am a traditionalist and I would rather do it in the good old fashioned way. So I hope to hear from you fertile young women. Remember I am not doing this for my own selfish reasons, but for the good of society. Well I better start drinking my wheatgrass juice to prepare. So if you want to become a mother, just drop the pryvette a line. By the way;<strong> Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers and potential mothers</strong>.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1147583179562708972006-05-13T21:51:00.000-07:002006-06-23T18:51:51.816-07:00A Trip Downunder<img src="http://www.wilsonsalmanac.com/images2/sep1_python_bruces_wattle.jpg" align="right">Some how I must have taken a wrong turn and ended up in the weird and wonderful Wrongtown. This blog is a collective of merry Australians who have a warped sense of humour just like us canadians, I wonder if that has something to do with the fact that we were both former members of the british empire. Could be a PHD thesis there for some enterprising soul. When you get there check out the mayor of Wrongtown, what a hoot. I am proud to say that by some strange fluke of reality, I have been granted citizenship in their metropolis of high strangeness. Thanks mates, what an honour. So put a wombat on your barbie, waltz your Matilda and click on <a href="http://www.wrongtown.blogspot.com/">http://www.wrongtown.blogspot.com/</a> and you will never be right again.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1147125210503169002006-05-08T13:21:00.000-07:002006-06-11T13:43:04.966-07:005 People You May Meet In Hell<span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,0)">1. Lou Pearlman</span><br /><br />The Gobshitte behind such musical illuminaries as the Backstreet Boys and O Town. O the humanity of it all. The US airforce should do the world a favour and carpet bomb Tampa Bay, Fla the home of this talentless human serviette so his virus can not spread. He is truly a threat to national security and sanity. Bombs away. On a related note I read somewhere that the backstreeters to increase their appeal and to represent their true colours are going to be renamed the Brokeback Boys.<br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,0)">2. Parking Enforcement Officers</span><br /><br />These are the hardworking bastards that can wreck a perfect day with a ticket and have the gall to say to you;"have a Nice Day". They also always say;" I am just doing my job". That funny I seem to recall hearing that defense being used by the nazi war criminals on trail at Nuremberg. It was no excuse than and it does not wash with the private. Also according to government propaganda, they give out tickets to keep the traffic moving in the city. What a load of bollocks! It is to fill the city coffers with unvoluntary taxes, so some blowhard major can fullfill their dream of building a shelter for vegetarian cats and go down in history as a great humanitarian, and get a sewage treatment plant named after him.. The money is also used to give the politicians their much needed rises and operating expenses too. poor dears are so underpayed.<br /><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,0)">3. The guy who coined the phrase "Have a Nice Day"</span><br /><br /><br />I say have a nice eternity in hell Pal! Also see #2.<br /><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,0)">4. Tom Cruise</span><br /><br /><br />False prophet of a false religion. Hey Tom get some psychological help. Katie, bad career choice, insanity does not make for a long career in Hollywood, just ask poor Francis Farmer.<br /><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,0)">5. </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,0)" href="http://www.1067thedrive.com/main.html">106 Fm The Drive</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,255,0)">, Detroit, Michigan</span><br /><br />One of the lamest radio stations in the universe. Unfortunately I have to listen to this dreck for most of the time I am suffering at work, so this compounds the suffering. According to the blind idiot gods, this is the only station that comes in really well. I believe that they play it a majority of the time to placate a lot of the unwashed plebs that believe it is actually good radio. You know the old saying, music soothes the savage beast, even if it is bad music. They have a lame, boring play list, that is the same every day. You can actually tell what time it is by what song they are playing. Wow now thats what I call dynamic radio.<br /><br />Some limp dick annoucer who interrupts after every song with some tepid jokes and comments. They also have annoying, unfunny DJ that on many occasions yell out the call letters twice or more in the same run on sentence. They might as well get rid of the DJs and just get limp dick to say their lines. Many of the male DJS have that annoying cheesy radio voice, like they are anouncers at the Miss Parsnip contest some where in Ichy Ass, Wisconsin. They also interrupt their feast of gourmet radio with way too many commericals. These commercials are beyond lame, a lot of them seem to be written by some Z grade stand up comic that could not make it at the local Denny's restaurant. They also have a lot of remotes which means they transmits live from a lucky business. Man this is more exciting, innovative radio, they make Edward R. Morrow"s live broadcasts from London during the blitz seem like paint drying. Their remots consist of the live DJ basically plugging the business, with a bunch of drunken yobs in the background yelling like morons. What a use of the public airwaves, Pulitzer prize material. Please God strike these scam artists(a use the word lightly) dumb.<br /><br />It is embarrassing to think that these putzs have a license and they are carrying on the mantle of Detroit radio. When I think back to all the truly great and innovative radio stations and DJS of the past, it is enough to bring a tear to the old pyvette's eyes.<br /><br />I would like to thank Mitch Albon for being my inspiration for this blog, another great Detroit gobshhitte. Also to you out their in cyberland if you can think of anyone you might meet in hell, drop the pryvette a line and let me know. Have a nice day. o Bob Saget!!!! Bob Saget!!! I am so sorry, I will have to say 50 hail marys.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1145578316623374002006-04-20T17:10:00.000-07:002006-08-25T21:48:34.736-07:00L. Ron Hubbard downloads central tenets of Scientology<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7208/1275/1600/l-ron-tomato.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7208/1275/320/l-ron-tomato.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1145481170193694602006-04-19T14:06:00.000-07:002006-04-20T17:48:38.536-07:00Breaking News: Pope in Health Crisis !!!!<img src="http://graphics.boston.com/bonzai-fba/Reuters_Photo/2005/04/08/1112955036_2298.jpg" align="right">According to my sources the pope is in very grave health. It seems that he has contracted avian flu, he got it from one of his cardinals.<br /><br />OO that is bad, please my stomach hurts so much from laughing, I do not know if I can stand it anymore. I crack myself up.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1142294877668415472006-03-13T15:09:00.000-08:002006-03-26T13:05:08.416-08:00Return to the Insanity Factory<img src="http://www.climate.unibe.ch/~beyerle/Animation/sisyphus.gif" align="left">One of the reasons I call my place of work, an insanity factory is my actual job. It is one of the most mind numbing purposeless jobs I have ever had in my long and checkered career.Boorrring with a capital B. In a nutshell my job is to walk around a warehouse with a scanner, scanning barcodes on packages to see if they can be released to be shipped to our customers. To explain a little further, the warehouse I work at is a major entry point into the dominion of Canada from the US. Due to the fact that the packages cross a border they are subject to having a duty put on them. Therefore packages of a certain value are taken of the moving belt and put on shelves so they can be evalulated and customs can take their pound of flesh. The other packages that are below that value are loaded on other trucks to be sent to the centre of the universe(Toronto). From there they are distributed to all are waiting customers. My advice to you who are shipping from the US to Canada is to always undervalue your packages on your declaration of value or write gift on your declaration. Gifts are usually let throught with no tax, unless they are something of high value over $100 or more,thats if you do not want to take it in the kidney from our federal government. I believe we pay enough fees and taxes, so they can get their money somewhere else like the outrageous pensions payed to MPS or the money wasted on official bilingualism.<br /><br />The problem with my job is once I scan the warehouse I am expected to keep scanning until the shift is over, but most of the time the boxes have not been processed or made it throught the computer yet, in other words they can not be released until all the paperwork has been done. So I just keep scanning the same boxes over and over again with no result. I guess they believe that if you keep scanning a particular package, it will get pissed off and release it's self. Sometimes there are a few releases, but usually after the intial scan there are not many. To make my job even more boring around 10 am they send two workers from the office to help us scan. Great hades there is not even enough boxes to scan for one person, never mind four. So as a result after the place is scanned you have to start all over again on the boxes that you have just scanned, Insanity! I feel like the ancient Corinthian king: Sisyphus. He was condemned by the gods to push a boulder up a hill only to have it roll down again each time he reached the top. My job is mind f*#king and numbing beyond belief.<br /><br />I feel I could help in other areas after I am done my scanning and return to it periodically to get the few releases that do come up. I told the blind idiot gods this but they disagree. They say that the job is essential, because we have to find those releases to get them out. I know the real reason that they will not change their small minds. It is all about my fellow scanner who is disabled, unfortunately this is about the only job she can do, so you see it is basically a make work project. I believe that if they let me go my merry way that she may become upset that I am being treated differently. They can not do this to her, because she is the shining example to the world about how swell my company is. She fills two quota areas, being a disabled female. They can hold her up as an example about how they employ a diverse group of people, are they not good corporate citizens or what? The cockles of my heart are warmed just thinking about their genuine care and consideration. Let me tell you they sure have the moron quota filled up in the management ranks.<br /><br />Another extremely idiotic and annoying aspect of my job is the fact that the scanner has two modes. The mode I use most often is one that identifies packages that can be released. The second mode identifies in the warehouse where a box is located and if it can be released. This process is done by scanning barcodes on the shelves than scanning the boxes on that shelf. So each shelf has an identifying number or barcode. As a result the package can now be located in the building if need be. The problem is these two modes do not agree sometimes. So if I started scanning on one mode and it says the boxes is a release, the next time I scan the box it is a nonrelease on the other mode. Sometimes a package handler will get to that box before I am back to it and put it on the belt to be loaded. This box that is a nonrelease with be scanned by the outbound scanner, who will have to take it off the belt and put it aside, because it is a hold. What a bloody waste of time for all the people involved. All the other shifts only scan once per shift using the location scan that seems to be the most reliable, but due to the feel good make work aspect of my shift we have to suffer with the annoying and inefficient two mode process and just keep scanning. What a load of BULLOCKS!<br /> I should say to clarify what happens at my place of work further. The trucks from US are unloaded and put on a moving belt. the packages are than moved down the belt to be loaded into trucks waiting to go to Toronto. The packages that are of a certain value are taken off the belt between these two stations to be proceesed. Also any packages that have problems with values or addresses, etc are taken off at a special station to be fixed. They can not catch everything, so remember always undervalue your packages. I also have a small pet peeve with my customers. At my company a sticker is produced with the contact, shipper and barcode info. Some customers use their sticker to seal their boxes. Please do not do this dude, due to the fact that it sometimes distorts the barcode. As a result I have to punch in the number manually, because it will not scan properly. It would make my grim job easier, because it is hard to read those small numbers in the stygian darkness of the warehouse and if the package is heavy and I have to pick it up to read it, not fun. So please do not use the sticker as a seal. This evil sign of the beast barcode also allows the customer to track their package. You can just go on the website and enter your number and it should tell you what city your package is in. I hope this paragraph made it a little clearer about what happens where I am stationed.<br /><br />Another thing I wanted to tell you about is what happen at christmas. Boy O Boy what a great company I work for, it is just like being in a Frank Capra movie. For christmas we were all given turkeys. I think they are the noble fowl, but they seem to be more the size of pigeons. I heard a rurmor that illegal immigrants from central america are hired to hunt them with BB guns at our california facilities. Talk about killing two birds with one stone, they rid themselves of these pests and feed their employees. Who says the spirit of enterprise is gone from the americas. The other gift all us men received was a portable male urinal. Man how thoughtful, now we do not have to leave the warehouse floor to relief ourselves, how thoughtful of the blind idiot gods(management), nothing says happy holidays like a male urinal.. I do not know what the women received, but I hope it is just as practical as our gift.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1136344051495184132006-01-03T19:02:00.000-08:002006-01-03T19:38:34.960-08:00To Serve Man: German Cannibal "Eats & Tells"<img src="http://www.chefwork.com/images/uniforms/chefsatwork2.jpg" align="right" /><b>Guest blogger, Matt St. Amand, taking dictation from Pryvett Rodgers:</b><br /><br />That roguish German Cannibal is back in the news. After biting off more than he could chew a couple of years ago, he returned to his madcap capers. (If you are unfamiliar with the case, it is worth noting that cannibalism is not illegal in Germany.) Well, it seems the German Cannibal proved a slave to his urges once more, but this time has been sentenced to jail for his deeds.<br /><br />Some of the details coming out at his trial:<ul><li>Believe it or not, the German Cannibal did not go out kidnapping his victims like a traditional, or "old-school" serial killer. Instead, he turned to the Internet for victims. And what a willing lot he found. There are actually people out there who get some sort of sexual thrill thinking about being slaughtered and consumed by another human being. One of these guys contacted the German Cannibal, insisting that the German Cannibal burn the man's testicles with a blow-torch before killing and eating him. This fellow was actually <i>rejected</i> by the German Cannibal, who professed to have "standards," and could not abide by this man's degenerate request.<br /></li><br /><li>Another willing victim who contacted the German Cannibal sought to be decapitated. Boy, he must have been surprised when the German Cannibal said, "Sir, I do not go in for such low-rent deeds." And rejected him. As The Kid From Brooklyn would say, <i>Un-fucking-believable</i>, though it is heartening to know that even cannibals possess some sense of decorum, propriety, and professionalism.<br /></li><br /><li>Another willing victim asked to be collected at his home by the German Cannibal in a cattle truck, as though he were a head of livestock. This, too, the German Cannibal refused to do, saying he did not do "pick ups." The German Cannibal told the man to take the train to <i>his</i> residence. This seemed to offend the prospective human meal, who cut off contact with the German Cannibal, saying, "I do not think we're going to make a connection."<br /></li><br /><li>One man with whom the German Cannibal <i>did</i> connect ended up on a meat hook in the cannibal's "butcher room." However, the German Cannibal soon decided that the room was too cold for the skewered man, and so he let him down and sent him home. Not before sharing a frozen pizza with him.<br /></li><br /><li>The German Cannibal prided himself on being a meticulous, gifted butcher and could tell his victims -- before killing them -- how much meat he could render from them based on their body weight</li><br /><li>In court, the German Cannibal revealed that he wanted to sell his story to Hollywood for $1 million. What would he do with this windfall? Get takeout? It would appear that the Food Network has missed a golden opportunity to snap-up this prodigy of Xtreme Kooking.</li></ul>In fairness, it should be noted that the German Cannibal had ample evidence of his victims' consent and complicity. Police had a hard time moving on him because the German Cannibal possessed numerous email messages from his victims plotting out their demise. But, finally, he has been nabbed.<br /><br />Now that he is off to serve his sentence, it is my hope that authorities do not allow the German Cannibal to work in the prison kitchen. <i>Bon appetit, Dieter!</i>Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1135641658209202512005-12-26T16:00:00.000-08:002006-04-20T17:09:10.780-07:00Girlfriend Gets Phone Stuck In Throat During Argument<a href="http://www.kfoxtv.com/news/5626137/detail.html">Girlfriend Gets Phone Stuck In Throat During Argument</a>Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1135296003235868762005-12-22T15:10:00.000-08:002005-12-26T15:54:22.120-08:00Monkey Steals Peach<img src="http://gr.bolt.com/oldsite/games/pc/action/postal_2_lobster.jpg" align="left" />I wanted to report on a hilarious story I just saw in the January 2006 edition of <i>Fortean Times</i>. The article concerns a little old 92 year old lady named Soja Popova, who resides in Klaipeda, Lithuania. It seems two robbers felt she was an easy mark, and broke in to her home to rob her, but little did they know she was a <strong>Goat milker</strong>. It seems that after a lifetime of milking goats, Soja had built up a grip "like Iron". She used this feature to good effect by latching on to one of the crook's family jewels and squeezing for all she is worth; Ouch. The man was in such pain that "he started screaming like an animal", according to our hero. The screams and cries of pain alerted her neighbours, who then called the police. Way to be Soja, keep those hands nimble. The moral of this story is do not mess with a milk maid or your risking some major damage to your reproductive capabilities.<br /><br />This story reminds me of when I was a boy, taking kung fu for the first time. When one of the best techinques we were taught, that could even take down a 250 lbs. man,it was called "monkey steals a peach." This technique was basically what Soja used, with some variations like a strike instead of a grab. I guess it shows us men have a universal weak spot that hurts in any language, and they say females are the weaker sex.<br /><br />I was thinking that to raise money for charity, Soja could have a "grip strength contest" against the infamous lobster boy. They could start out to see how many walnuts they could crush in 5 minutes, then move up to baseballs and finally bowling balls. If these feats of strength do not decide who is the strongest crusher in the world, then they should go to "anything-goes" grappling. All areas of the body are legitimate targets including the groin area. What a spectacle of elemental human drama, with these two titans of grip strength going at it, thumb and nail. We may be able to get a pay-for-view contract for this sporting event of note. The event should be called<strong> The Crustacean vs The Lithuanian Iron Lady.</strong> What a Battle Royale! I would pay good money to see that. I believe King Kong would pale next to this ball busting event. <br /><br />If you are interested there is a link to the great <i>Fortean Times</i> in my link section.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1134947657046676492005-12-18T13:31:00.000-08:002005-12-21T15:06:34.610-08:00INSIDE THE INSANITY FACTORY<img src="http://www.upstate.edu/library/history/idiots.jpg" align="left" />Hello all you folks out in blogland, this is my first attempt at blogging. One of my pals who is an advid blogger suggested I take this endeavor up. He says it is good for your mental health and a lot of fun. I thought to myself: <em>I am kind of a big mouth blow hard, so it would be right up my alley</em>. In my blog I will muse about my job, things that rub me the wrong way, and any items of interest. One of my main themes will be the need for more common sense in the world, and my war against pretention and political correctness, how original, I know. The unending battle must be fought.<br /><br />The title of my blog refers to the place I work. I work for an extremely large small package shipping company. I do not want to name it, to protect the guilty. I will give you one big hint; the company's main corporate colour is the same colour as <em>Shite</em>. The colour is also mentioned in their adverts and that is the main colour of their trucks. OOPs did I give too much away? Their colour should also give you some idea about the quality of the company and many of the people who work there.<br /><br />I thought getting a job at a large multinational entity would be a good thing. You know, you think of the usual things: good pay and benefits, a lot of opportunity to move up and around the globe, an interesting challengeing work place. But <em>NOOOO!</em> Was I ever wrong! If I knew back then what I know now I would have never signed up. I originally signed up because one of my friends said he was cruising the Net and went to this company's website, They said they needed extra workers for the christmas rush. The ad also said things like "good pay", "bonues", "sugarplums", "exciting and meaningful work", and "world peace". I, being unemployed at the time, thought, <em>Wow here is My chance to snag a real good job and help create peace in the middle east</em>. So both me and my mate applied together. The funny thing is he did not even get an interview or so-sorry-card, the lucky sod. I recieved 3 interviews and all kinds of promises. Boy, my friend has a lot to answer for.<br /><br />The place I work is really the insanity factory. It causes insanity in most of its employees and seems to be run by insane blind idiot gods. There is no such thing as common sense, up is down, black is white, and dogs sleep with cats. In a sense it is the physical incarnation of insanity. Most decisions are up to the whims of the day of the blind idiots. So something that is procedure one day will be totally different the next, due to how the idiot on duty is feeling. Being a large corporation there are all types of red tape and procedures written down to follow. I believe this is just done to protect against lawsuits, and give the employees the illusion that there is some order in their corporate universe. I know sometimes you have to <em>ad-lib</em> and adapt to day-to-day situations that arise in a busy day, especially in a business like shipping. What I am mainly writing about are basic things like how to treat people decently and not having double standards.<br /><br />As you can infer from what I have said earlier, my employers do not treat people very well. They follow the philosophy of the Roman empire: people are just like beasts of burden who are to be used to further the interests of the empire and amuse the ruling classes. If they are mistreated or killed, so be it. I am not so naive as to believe that this is not the way business has <em>always</em> been done and has to be to a certain extent, but you should try to treat people with some modicum of respect. After all, it is due to this lowly people who do all the hard crap work, that they are able to make profits and live their good lives. Even some of the supervisors do not like their jobs, due to this hardass attitude of the company. I know this is nothing new in corporate North America unfortunately. I have many friends who work in insanity factories too, and have the same horror stories, as many of you most likely do too.<br /><br />The main goal of my company is to get packages out and delivered as soon as possible. They present this image of vestal virgins with kid gloves gently handing your packages. The reality is much closer to a hardcore German porno movie, with a lot of rough banging and bumping around. They have only so much time to unload a truck, get the packages processed and load again to be delivered. So as a result, due to pressure from above, there are a lot of packages that literally go airborne out of the truck on to conveyer belt. Some of the packages are marked as air mail, but I do not think this is what the customer had in mind when they checked the "air" box. I have seen supervisors throwing boxes, too, when the deadline crunch moves in. They have this official policy called "hand to surface," which basically says you are to place a box on a shelf or belt not throw it. This law is usually enforced when they want to harass a particular troublesome employee or when one of the higher-up idiot gods are touring the plant.<br /><br />Another way packages are mishandled is they are intentionally kicked or stepped on by the people who actually load and unload the trucks, who are called "package handlers." These poor guys are on the bottom of the food chain in terms of pay and treatment. They tend to be sullen, twenty-nothing, text-messaging addicts, who have the maturity level of baboons suffering with BSC. Their job is very physically demanding, especially in the summer when temperatures soar. There is no airconditioning in the warehouse or trucks. They have only so much time to unload a truck, so they have to cut corners sometimes and throw the boxes out of the truck. So, putting these factors together leads to some of these workers taking out their frustrations on the boxes by kicking them or stomping them, or not retaping open boxes, so some of the contents spill out. I have come to believe that <em>fragile</em> is Italian for "kick me." I would not ship by my company especially if you were shipping something fragile, like your grandma's good china. The average package handler lasts about 3-6 months due to the bad pay and conditions. In the eight years I have been there, I must have seen at least 60-100 handlers come and go.<br /><br />Well, that is all for now, thanks for listening to my rant. Stay tuned for more reports from the Insanity Factory.Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14183446.post-1120486727363787742005-07-04T07:17:00.000-07:002005-07-04T07:18:47.370-07:00Going Postal with Pryvett Rodgers<img src="http://www.mnsi.net/~mattaman/images/ghoulandpryvett.jpg">Pryvett Rawgershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08644696180138684446noreply@blogger.com4