strike three

After trying all week, I finally get a chance to begin the traineeship. Turns out, nobody on the boat admitted to remembering who I was, which is suspiciously unusual, considering I am me. Bah, like I've said before, the sea does things to you. Must be the salt.

Regardless, I go back for a paid "trial" this time. Then I should be able to start proper; I'll make damn sure I carve my name into their skulls.

On another note, I ran some errands today, which resulted in a stop at the petrol station, the same one I attend whenever I need petrol, oddly enough. That's not really exciting. What is exciting had red hair. Now, attractive women aren't so rare that I have to include them in posts, but when it's an attractive redhead woman, it's something to tell your friends. So today my fantasy of having a threesome with a brunette and a redhead became more realistic. Before this fine spotting, I was convinced that were very few attractive redheads. Not to mention un-bitchy ones.

It was a very welcome disproof!

Overall, a good day and a sound five-minute blog (flog).

- P ζ.

when the boat's a-rockin' ...

Check this out - two posts within a month. Am I on fire or what? I hope "or what"; not particularly fond of being on fire, unless of course I want to play in the rain. People don't wonder why a grown male is rolling in the mud when he is on fire. No, they panic, scream, run over and wonder how he got on fire and why he is having fun. Disclaimer: Don't do it naked or at home.

Speaking of rain, I am waiting patiently for my future to get started. That future, or at least part of it, is a Dive Master traineeship. Funny that it is has the word "ship" in there somewhere, considering I spend 11 hours or so out on a boat in questionable weather. I survived the 4-day trial and consider myself right to continue on, despite being a veritable tugboat to Asian and Indian tourists who can't quite swim, particularly in 30-knot winds. Surprisingly, I didn't drown. I wonder if they'd have trusted me if I said:
"Hey, just so you know, this is my 3rd day out here and my first time in the reef, swimming under these conditions. Ever. Plus, I am pretty unfit. Lets see some fish!"

Probably not. Nevertheless, I did a good job of being a human ferry. Enjoyed it too, even if I did take in a fair bit of sea water thanks to the waves that just had to go over the snorkel again and again. My lips were like soggy salt and vinegar chips. Would have been interesting to set up a kissing booth for the hot female tourists in bikinis - "taste the sea!"

What would ensue is of course rated R, featuring bad innuendo with salt, mouths, swimming, fish, snorkels, goggles, boats, ocean, motion and waves.

Wait, did I say I enjoyed something to do with employment? I did! This bodes well land lovers. The pay during the 90-day course isn't anything special, but it's not an exceedingly difficult thing you're actually being paid for; boat work, swimming, bikini-clad hotties, all that jazz. I consider it like getting money for studying. Yes, money for studying - wouldn't that be a great thing?!

Of course, at the end of the day... or 3-months, you end up with a very good opportunity to do quite a bit. It's like reaching the point of a tree where all the branches, uh, branch off from - you can take any route you want to become a leaf and eventually fall down in autumn to become compost for the rest of the forest. Disregard the leaf bit. Or leaves. Whatever.

Anyway, how cool is it to have Master in your title?! Greg Page, Dive Master. Of course, nobody has to know Dive Master is just an entry-level qualification. Like a ticket to get on board a plane; sure you're going somewhere, but you best buckle up sonny, because you aren't in Municity yet!

So tomorrow I make a phone call and get ready for a new experience! Good times ahead, unless of course, for some reason, I get the boot and aren't allowed in. Can't see that happening. I washed dishes, damnit. I washed them and enjoyed it! Mostly because it's so much more fun when the sink isn't quite stationary. In fact, anything you do on a moving boat in rough seas is so much more fun. It's like been drunk. On that note, I theorise that if you were actually drunk on a boat you would be able to cancel the motion out and be completely stable. You could go to the toilet, with both you and the boat moving, in perfect opposing harmony, and viola, you're shooting straighter than an arrow that somehow defies the laws of physics and doesn't move in a parabola.

Jack Sparrow is onto something with his crazy love for rum.

Where was I? Oh yeah. If I don't get in, somehow, I'll have to scowl, take my papers in a somewhat aggressive fashion and say, "Well then. So long and thanks for all the fish, tourists and free boat trips!"

Ha!

- Pary ζ.

good versus me

It's been, what, a year since I last posted? Something close to that time, at least! Otherwise, I update too frequently... or not enough. Nevermind! It's been quite an assumed year, I must say. First off, I am once again unemployed - between jobs - after realising my previous job (read: previous entry?) was more like a fuck in the arse than an actual investment in time. What I mean is, damn that really sucked towards the end. Sucked, as in, vacuum cleaner on high kind of sucked.

I am also single once again after a rather lengthy relationship. Imagine six times one month. I know, it's crazy for me, which is why I I'm currently wondering what the hell happened. To my time, that is. Although it has been rumoured I am unable to secure more than one date on with any given female - an interesting concept, I must say! Also, probably true, but mostly due to the fact I have, or had, an unforgiving mistress called "WoW."

I just recently cut back on my time with her, though she still calls and shows up naked at my doorstep. Crazy woman. Hot, but crazy. Why are women crazy?! Wait, don't answer, especially if you're a woman. I am not sexist, I am just a sex. That's right, I said it.

To other news now and that is the current state of my hair. No, forget that. I HAVE A NEW COMPUTER! I am typing on it as we speak... or, rather, as I type. I intend to marry it if it is possible to marry objects. On that note, if it is indeed possible to marry inanimate objects, I will end up supporting polygamy quite vehemently. In any case, this machine in which I type on is one sexy machine. Imagine... a computer that is incredibly fast and sexy. Then imagine this computer, which is even better by a good factor of imaginary numbers (no, not the square root of negative one or his cousins).

But that's all old news. So, I got unemployed, a haircut and a new computer. Big deal! The biggest news of all is, um, is...

Hey, I'm looking into a diviing traineeship again, after missing the application date by a mere day or two. Damn newspapers. Why don't they scream at you with this kind of information? You know, personalise this and that?

The future is bright anyway! Possible diving traineeship, moving into a luxury apartment with a buddy who just got a transfer from Hampshire (uh...) to simaltaneously be with his girlfriend I happened to play cupid and introduce him to and to get away from Hampshire shenanigans, or lack thereof. Good fkn times!

In summary and conclusion: I have many pairs of socks available that I intend to wear during the next week while I busy myself investigating various things that include, and certainly should be limited to, though actually aren't, bikini-clad women bathing on beaches without any intention of having sex with anything (?).

- Pary ζ.