Wednesday, January 06, 2010

short story

hey while I try to get my stuff together to write more blog entries for no one to read i thought i would post an award winning short story i wrote for a contest.
If you like short stories you can check out a few from ben adam phil myself and other writers here.

The terms of the contest are 1000 words max on a common theme. The theme of this round was things you say to fish.

The title of my story is Cleveland judges needed for Coors Biggest Boobs Contest.

Cleveland judges needed for Coors Biggest Boobs Contest.

Dear Son,

Firstoff I am sorry that this letter isn't really from Preston Allister Coors about them needing judges for a biggest boobs contest. I knowed you wouldn't open the letter if I put my real name on it since you probably haven't heard all the good things about me and I also never fathered you or sent money like I should have and the courts wanted me too.

I wanted to be a better father to you than my dad did to me but it is hard when you keep getting bad luck and caught at armed robbery. Still though when I saw on my computer search that you were likely going to jail about that 4 separate assault charges plus keeping a unregistered gun in your car incident I felt really bad like it was my fault partways. Even though you is now 18 and grown I still see it my duty as my dad to help you with advice in how to go to jail and that is why I am writing this letter. You don't have to tell your momma that I am helping you out but if you do tell her you could say something like "now who is the worst father in Ohio."

Your mother used to be really pretty and I did used to love her and you should know that you was born out of love even if the police kept calling it rape.

Jail Lesson 1: not ratting

When I first went to jail my daddy told me not to talk to the guards because even if you are just asking them for pornos or whatnot then the other guys in jail will think that you are ratting them out and might stab you which in jail they call shanking but it is the same thing. My daddy was really good about telling me jail advice but he had the advantage of being in the same jail as me and it says they are sending you to Nelsonville.

Everyone hates rats in jail and times in between jail because most people themselves are only in jail for someone ratting them out as being a criminal and I myself was ratted out the 2nd and 4 time I went to jail and I say the 3rd time too but Dr Michelle says it isn't ratting if someone calls the police because you tied them up and stole their television and jewelry.

You have probably heard from your uncle Rob that I ratted him out on the dollar store job he went away for but I didn’t. Your uncle is well known to be a liar and even tries to claim that he is your real father but I know that I am your real father on account of Rob never being able to make any other girl pregnant and the other 2 fellas being black.

Just remembering your uncle calling me a rat gets my back up some which I will deal with by doing a painting later.

Dr Michelle is working with me to channel my anger into art. She says my rage issues ultimately hurt myself in addition I think she means to whoever is around me cause they get hurt pretty bad sometimes.

If you talked to her she would say some of the 4 times you was caught assaulting people was your fault at not controlling your anger but neither of us was there so we can't say for sure that it wasn't called for. I think that going to jail for things that are called for is a loophole in the law that particularly needs to be looked at but my lawyer says that it is not likely to be addressed before your sentencing date.

Jail lesson 2: yard reading

Even as important than not ratting (or “snitching” as you would call it if you was black like your almost fathers) is to know when something is going to happen. In jail you can learn to tell in the air when a person or group of persons is going to go off crazy and start a riot and if you get that sense it is best to take cover. The exception to this is when someone has recent done wrong by you and then you should shank them during the riot when the guards are busy.

Dr Michele and my lawyer both say that shanking someone in a riot or otherwise has a habit of making my jail time increase “exponentially” so I guess I would take some of their advice and not shank someone in a riot for no reason but also remember your fathers advice about using the opportunities god gives you.

Jail lesson 3: Making a shank

Making a shank isn’t much of a lesson you need your father for. It is really just anything you find in jail that will go through someone’s skin a dozen or more times. If you are not sure about something being a shank or not just push it against your leg until it feels like it would probably go through your skin if you pushed any harder. BE CAREFULL!!!.

You are probably interested in shank making to be less worried about being raped in prison but you should be ok as long as you make it clear that you are not gay and will murder anyone who tries to get with you.

About the other way of it jail is long and there is no women there so you have to make your own mind about goings on or rapings with other men and I can't council you on that matter.

I have told you the most important things about jailing and everything else you should be able to pick up on your way like I did.

It does feel good to finally get to being a dad to you.

Love and best of luck,


Thursday, November 05, 2009

Welcome Back

Hey BlogFans!

It has been a long time since my last post and well I am pretty sorry for those of you who can't live without knowing how hungover I am (medium*) or what my favorite vitamin is (multi).
I believe I detailed the problems i was facing continuing writing in this forum so you shouldn't be surprised or pissed off
at me that there is not a lot of posting going on.

That being said I think I will try and like last time fail at writing blog posts again starting logically since i haven't posted in a while with a giant multi-category life update.

life update category one: work

I am still working as a server and bartender and sometimes trivia host at the d$ke of Y*rk. Most of you will remember that this used to be a bar I would go to all the time and then when I was dating Erica our plan was that I would go back to school but not for nine months and in the mean time I should get a job as a server to make money. I had no serving experience but my friends Dana and Jenny managed to convince the GM at the time that I would be a good hire. Nine months has turned into 6 years.
I need a change but have no idea what to do. Don't be depressed this isn't a new thing.
Also please don't send me career advice unless the job you are suggesting I look into or go to school for is better than my current job. Last month my mother suggested that I should look into working at the border. This has some upside in that my mother at church could tell people I work at the border rather than a bar. Downside includes a) everyone hates everyone during customs and border interactions, b) I would take a pay cut, c) I would either have to commute or live in a border city (Windsor, Niagara Falls etc), d) I have no natural aptitude for work like this, and e) I would have to train and go to school just to incur all of these unpleasant work conditions.
When I pointed this out she countered that I should work as a clerk at the airport.

life update category two: family.

My mom just retired which is great and she is also spending a lot of time rehabbing from her double knee surgery a procedure with logistics I assure you are that are best left to the imagination. As a teaser I can say it involves an uncomfortable amount of bone cutting and shaving.
My dad splits his time working and sometimes guest sermoning at our church, bike riding, and running his business from history's greatest workshop. My brother is doing pretty well working for the government is not so well at stopping me from dropping several threes on his basketball team last week.
My sister is where the real action is with Paige being in her twos now and a new nephew Graham starting to do stuff. I don't have a full Graham and Paige recent picture but I will put one here soon and hold its place with a sideways picture of my sister when she was Paige's age.

life update category three: relationships.

Shockingly things aren't going well. I will have to leave that and finish later which is OK because know one will know I have posted this. I am going to do dishes and then go to the Gym and then barbecue food then go to the movies by myself.


* my "medium" is your "very"

Monday, May 05, 2008

Feminine Hygiene and Family Planning

Fresh off my smashing early career success as top landing dishwasher I was ready to tackle working not just as a summer student but during the school year.
My family was friends through church with the husband and wife pharmacist team who owned and ran one of the 2 grimsby shoppers drug marts and even though the last child of a church friend had awkwardly been fired for stealing they agreed to take me on as a stock boy.

"it was really awkward at church when they had to fire Jeff" my parents warned me minutes before my first shift, already im sure imagining workplace scandals i might shame our family with to the admittedly expansive Trinity United Church social network. (shaming my mother at church was also the focus of the previous summers anti-smoking talk).

Jeff had also been my leader into Landing Restaurant Employment where as a bartender/waiter/ sometimes event host he was an even greater success than I had been. His questionable firing should have tipped me off that I was entering a much different work world.

Here are some differences I noticed right away.

1. shoppers drug mart= less hot: way less hot. I guess i could change this to places not employing girls who make tips = less hot but i really wasn't ready for how much less fun my workplace would be when not infused with a rotating cast of 17-25 year old pretty waitresses. At church the week following my boss explained that pretty girls at work usually lead to problems of workplace romance or harassment and that he actually avoids hiring attractive single people in some kind of perverted reverse sexual discrimination. My current workplace features not stop lobbying by the girls to hire more good looking boys and visa versa but we are a bar and I don't know why I would have expected the owner of shoppers drug mart to hire more girls at my request or why i would ask him such a thing at church.

2. Business not run by absentee rumoured mafia types*=more supervision:
In fact on any given day 12 out of the 18 store workers were my direct supervisor. After finishing my regular duties I had to check with all of the department bosses before I could leave and sometimes would stay for upwards of 2 hours later than planned doing random stuff.
Worse than this it seemed like all of these managers were watching me and wanted me to be working constantly. Enforced policies included limited socializing, no reading magazines, lunch during lunch break, and my least favorite, no stackable box art.
Looking back what I didn't realize is what any vanity hire will tell you; if you are hired as a favour to the boss's friend you have to work twice as hard to gain your co-workers respect (I only fell one and a half times short). Everyone would eventually like me but it had more to do with being nice than setting the workplace on fire with productivity.

3. Everyone was sober all the time: unlike the landing I didn't share space with amusing and dangerous drunk people and also when work finished and everyone just went home.

4. I hate light bulbs. This was the first of count-em 5 jobs I would eventually have which required me to climb a ladder and change light bulbs and I have disliked every single light bulb change ever. climbing a ladder and being inches from fluorescent lights is the exact last thing a shaky hung over person should be doing but try telling that to your boss...

i feel like my "initial impressions" list is drifting into the "general shoppers impressions" category so lets change directions and see if I can't put a body and conclusion on this thing while still leaving myself ample time to watch iron-man before basketball (i hope this helps the infrequent posting complainers understand the time conflicts my blogging has with my real world responsibilities)

you know what screw it i am going to get a headstart on today's to do list and watch iron man even though i have some hold-ups which I will now share.

1. whenever i post part of a post and then go back and finish later no one reads the second part.
2. I am kind of tired and might fall asleep in the theatre.
3. Despite %100 positive reviews from friends I am still not sure I am going to like this movie. I
didn't like the preview.
4. most of the people who liked the movie also liked the preview. maybe most of the people didn't like the movie also didn't like the movie.
5. i really am looking forward to new batman I can't help that feel like even if iron man is good it will seem worse than it is since I will be simultaneously comparing to how good I am imagining the new batman will be.
6. I bet they are going to gloss over iron man's healthy drinking problems

ok movie time I will be back

*despite an impressive amount of workplace folklore the only evidence we had that the landing was mafia owned was that like a lot of restaurant owners they were rich and like some restaurant owners they were Italian.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

we might be related

I don't' want to alarm you but there is another luke pettigrew out there who is obviously trying to supplant me in google rankings using his bebo account.
20 year old luke pettigrew from Gloucester UK is happiest "Wen I Got The Hi-Grade...! n spendin time with my son leighton lee pettigrew"

but not at the same time i am sure.

if you have time scroll down to the bebo comments wall and check out other Luke Pettigrew's friends Gordon (who also likes high grade )and especially Willow AkA Badman and his gigantic rapping brother (on video)
I somehow feel like if other luke pettigrew and I wrote a blog post at the exact same time or something and we freaky fridayed that i wouldn't last very long in chav Gloucester.

more job posts to come

Friday, March 28, 2008

job series part 2: The Landing

When I was 16 I managed to have no job at all. It was an awesome summer of running, playing basketball /volleyball almost full time with after run/game downtime barbecuing and swimming in our pool.
Remember this was pre massive drinking habit, and we (Ben,Mark,Adam,Cam,Brendan,Ross,and Myself) were far too clueless to impress girls.
So while I didn't have any money or girl prospects at 16 it ended up beeing an ok trade off for a mostly enjoyable vacation like summer.
My parents and a first girlfriend would conspire to make sure that neither trend was repeated in my 17th year.

A friend of the family was working in a marina restaurant just out of town and somehow him and my father managed to get me hired without a resume, interview, or my knowledge that I was up for the job. I would be washing dishes for and hourly wage of $5.85 (remember this is in 1992 so that would be like $6.50 today).
I made up for my low hourly wage be working sometimes up to 17 uninterrupted paid hours a shift. My shortest day would be 11 hours.
At 17 with no real job experience and a questionable work ethic I quickly passed 6 others to become the number 1 dishwasher at the Landing and was rewarded with 6 shifts a week. I was a little puzzled because before my promotion I hadn't considered myself a good dishwasher but my manager explained that in my first 3 weeks I had stood out amongst my peers by doing things like
1. showing up for all of my shifts
2. not hiding dishes when it was a busy night and I wanted to go home.

I guess hiding entire busbins full of dirty dishes to be found later by chefs and management was a pretty common and unpopular practice. The downside was that by doing all of my dishes and other duties I would be working until 3 or 4 in the morning sometimes.

Luckily I freaking loved it there- the alcoholic cooks would make me whatever food i wanted, all of the servers were hot college girls, and everyone was nice to me because the alternative was going back to older dishwashers who didn't give a crap.

here is one of my favorites from the literally hundreds of drinking stories that the cooks would tell me. (I don't really swear that much so if you could just randomly insert curse words it will help with the realism.)

Ed: "OK so like we are at the cottage and the Saturday party is bigger than we think and we run out of beer which was surprising because we brought up a lot of beer*. So we are upset because we still have a day at the cottage but it is really remote and it is Sunday anyway and everything is closed. Now there is no way that we can make it though the night with no booze, so what we do is take nylons and stuff and we filter all of the bottoms of the beers from the big party last night and drank all that"

Me: why umm did you filter the beer?

Ed: you know, to get out all the cigarette butts and shit.

Me: cool.

So I spent most of the days peeling potatoes and stuff with the kitchen guys and the nights talking with the waitresses who, in retrospect, I should have been trying to make-out with but at the time just trying to flirt with pretty older girls was an end in itself. Also despite being shy and now cringe inducingly un-smooth my running success and twin status had provided me with a brave new girlfriend in the same time period. I even had a cool new nickname.


One night I vividly remember picking up the plug to one of giant stand-up fans you would find in a kitchen with no air conditioning- Shaking off the excess water - and plugging it in.
there were puddles everywhere in that part of the kitchen and I was really tired so I kind of forgot about the water/electricity thing. It was actually kind of cool because a giant electricity ball seemed to shoot 15 inches out to the right and then there was a smaller blue ball on the left and then every light in the restaurant went out. The outlet was still on the wall but melted like those clocks in that painting. I was unhurt.
The electrician drinking at the bar explained that I had "fucked up the restaurant good" and was lucky to be unhurt. They were able to fix it eventually and the managers were cool about it and also that is when they really started to call me "Danger Boy".
Over the course of my two years there I would also manage to cut myself numerous times, almost suffocate mixing uncomplimentary cleaning chemicals, and go to the hospital twice with bleach in my eye.

Through my hard work and lack of litigiousness I was promoted over my two summers from "dishwasher" to "dishwasher/sometimes buffet server" to "dishwasher/buffet server/sometimes server" and my pay rose to almost $8 per hour.

I will have to save judgement until i go through all of my jobs but a quick scan suggests my status in terms of being a valued employee may have peeked as a 17 year old dishwasher. It would be 10 years until I worked in a restaurant again.

Next Week: Feminine Hygiene and Family Planning.

*you were supposed to be providing you own curse words here but if you are having trouble an example would be to replace "lot or beer" with "fucking fuck-load or beer" sorry grandma.