Y2kk Update: What a wild and wacky world it has been in terms of goddam weather...

So much to the point, that I'm literally delirious. Just not with joy, that's all...

Mother nature truly has been a great big motherfucker this past week, at least when it came to fucking over me...

Here in Canada, the only times that we get temperatures in the range of 35-40C is when we're literally talking about the goddam minuses in winter. And yet for the first three or four days of this week here in Toronto, it was literally hot as hell as fucking Phoenix Arizona. The temperatures themselves reached as high as 38C in the Greater Toronto Area on Tuesday, and when you factored in the humidity? We're talking about almost 50C weather here, in fucking frozen Canada of all places...

Of course, that was the day I was actually dumbass enough to decide to walk all across the downtown core from my workplace to the cheapest damn movie theatre there is in the city. It was bargain basement Tuesday afterall, and in the searing hot weather, I thought that maybe a film of Miami Vice could actually cool me down with just how shitty ass it would turn out to be...

But of course, as mother nature would have it, after I made the fucking half hour or more trek in the goddam scorching Sun across the entire goddam downtown core? When I got to the theatre, when it was almost my fucking time to finally pay for my ticket at the cashier, of course that's when the motherfucking bitch behind the counter stepped out. And instead of giving me a fucking blowjob to relieve me of the goddam pressure of the heat like prescribed, she immediately told every one of us in line that Miami Vice had just been fucking sold out...

Mother-goddam-fucker...

Now, if I really had a brain or if I had really wanted to salvage something from that day, I would've just stayed at the theatre and watched something even shittier than Miami Vice, like Clerks 2 or some crap like that. Instead though, in the fucking fogness of the fever of the Sun, I opted to go shopping instead, and ended up at Eaton's Centre in Toronto before heading home...

Now, at that mall, I noticed that the golf bag that I should've bought last week while lugging home all my new goddam $99 golf clubs was still there. It was a Golf Pak brand or some crap like that, reduced from $99 to $39 or so the ticket pricer claimed. It would've made a hell of a lot of sense for me to have just bought that cheap piece of shit a week ago instead of dragging this massive box of golf clubs home with me all the way to the suburbs. But I wasn't smart enough to actually think of that at the time, even though it was obvious that I needed a goddam golf bag to take to the course with me eventually in the end...

Of course, if I had half a fucking brain, I would've just picked up the golf bag that Tuesday when I was already at the mall. But since I wasn't obviously thinking straight, I decided to wait until goddam Thursday to return and make the purchase, for whatever goddam forsaken reason I had in mind. I still have no idea what in my mind caused the delay, as it wasn't like the price of the golf bag would be getting any goddam cheaper. But for some damn reason, I just shrugged my shoulders and was on my merry way, destined and determined to return two days later for God knows what reason...

When Thursday finally rolled around, the weather outside was no longer burning hot like a goddam furnace. In earlier days, the moment you stepped outside, you would feel this giant wave of searing flesh as if a giant, overloaded heater with some massive fan had just been shoved in your goddam face. But on Thursday, thanks to the thunder storms the night before, everything was back down to regular Toronto summer temperatures of 25 C or whatnot...

... the only thing was, why did I feel freezing?...

Half way through the day, I noticed my nose was running. Had no clue why, but just assumed that the air conditioning in my building had been turned up to the max after the earlier parts of the week, and somebody forgot to turn off the Canadian freezer setting that morning...

But still, it wasn't long until I started getting the sniffles...

... and for my throat to get scratchy and dry...

And, umm... what?...

Mother-goddam-fucker...

... I was getting sick? Why the fuck was I getting sick?...

It's just my fucking luck, that with a three day weekend where it's my grandpa's 89th fucking birthday, that I would get fucking sick like I used to before every single fucking three day weekend. Why the fuck does my body hate me so?...

Something tells me that the fact that I roasted myself in the oven of the Sun on Tuesday for almost a fucking hour straight while walking my ass off, has just something to do with the fact that yeah, I do have a fucking fever right now. Because right now, as I type this, my body is fucking burning up. It's only about room temperature in my goddam room, but I'm sweating like a pig as the fever consumes my skin, I can barely see straight at my goddam monitor, and I can't even seem to walk a goddam crooked line...

Yesterday was kind of the opposite, where instead of feeling like I was cooking in the goddam microwave, I was freezing my fucking legs off. Yet still, for some goddam reason, I decided to keep to my promise and actually returned to Eaton's Centre for the goddam golf bag that I should've bought over a week ago with my golf clubs, and that I should've bought when I was already at the place on fucking bloody hell Tuesday. What the fuck was the matter with me?...

So yeah, once again, I made the solitary trek across the Toronto downtown core to Eaton's Centre, this time with a body so ravaged and weakened by the coming onslaught of a goddam fever, that my legs literally felt like they were going to fall off from exhaustion. I almost collapsed halfway to the fucking mall, but I just never gave up. Never surrendered, as apparently I'm too damn dumb to ever just give up and go home...

I got to Eaton's Centre, and lo and behold, thank God my trip wasn't a complete waste as they had just one of the fucking golf bags left on sale. I promptly picked it up and paid for it by the cashier, a little too promptly perhaps, considering they forgot to demagnetize the fucking security marker on the goddam price tag. I didn't even notice until I tried stepping in another part of the mall on the way back to Union Station, only for alarms to start blaring everywhere, starting up that fucking clanging migraine of mine from the fucking fever that I still have now...

And then and there, I was left feeling like the same kind of goddam fool as I felt like last week. Here I was, with a fucking cheapass golf bag with a big bloody hell yellow price tag on the side (with no way for me to cut it off). And here I was, first lugging and dragging this thing all the way from Eaton's Centre down to Union Station, then having to ferry this thing on the fucking GO train all the way back to the suburbs an hour away, making me look like a fucking idiot holding this giant thing up to all commuting onlookers...

Mother-goddam-fucker...

Thank God at least I missed that bus with my acquaintance who had the $1600 "mortgage" on his golf clubs (as my other friend called it), otherwise I never would've lived down the embarrassment and shame of dragging this cheap piece of shit all the way home for over a goddam hour on public transit, for the second straight goddam week...

And to think, I did it all this time with a fucking fever. How the fuck did I even make it without dying?...

Did I even manage to get it home at all? Am I just dreaming all of this shit? The fever is making me delirious afterall...

... and if it ain't the fever, then it's the goddam bloody hell temperatures here in Canada for the first ever time in goddam decades...

Because it all sounds like so much goddam fun, now doesn't it?...

... except for the fact I felt like I was going to keel over and hurl out my entrails all fucking day long at work, that is....

No, wait. Sadly, that was the fun part of my day.

Mother-goddam-fucker...

Y2kk Update: God, it's so unbearably humid right now in this goddam house...

But seriously, how 'bout the humility?...

I must've looked ridiculous as hell on Monday. Because I felt ridiculous as hell, lugging an entire set of golf clubs in an oversized box from Eaton's Centre (in downtown Toronto) all the way down south to Union Station...

How long was the walk? Fifteen minutes while carrying some massive cardboard package in my hands the whole way through? And why exactly didn't I just buy a goddam golf bag to hold all my new, cheapass golf club shit in the first place? WTF?...

The thing is, this was my first ever golf set that I had just bought, some crap ass FX2 RAM set from the year 2004. It was on sale at Sportchek in Toronto for $99 CDN this week, which is ridiculously goddam low for any goddam golf set out there, beginner or not. Even still, I had hoped it would come with a goddam putter along with its twelve other included clubs, or at least I had hoped Sportchek would also throw in some crap asstastic free golf bag along with that shit. But no dice there for me though, and to top it all off? I'm now also kicking myself in the sorry ass for forgetting to try to scam them with some SPC $10 coupon printed off of the net as well. Goddammit...

Redflagdeals for the win?...

Yes, I am that damn cheap...

Sure, I had hoped to be able to hold out for more. But alas, it was the last RAM FX2 set there, and the Callaway and Vectrex clearance sets that were also there were decent, but just didn't feel as right in my hands as that old man's graphite shaft and titanium heading did. So I decided to splurge on the goddam set, if you can consider just $99 CDN as fucking splurging on a goddam golf set. Because really, new or not, is there any place on earth where you can find a fucking twelve piece set for any goddam cheaper?...

It was just ridiculous though, how I didn't even bother to buy a $35 cheapass golf bag along with my new equipment. So dumbfounded and clueless as I was, I walked with this massive cardboard box of golf clubs all the way down to Union Station first, heaved it onto the GO Train, rode my set all the way back to my suburb of Oakville 40 minutes away, and then had to lug those sons of bitches back onto that goddam bus to house. It was sure as hell not a pretty sight, and certainly not my finest moment either...

... not by a long shot...

... fuck, I can't even hit the fucking ball past 150 goddam yards...

Anyhew, I ran into an old acquaintance on that bus of mine, though I never really liked the son of a bitch very much. And truth be told, he was never really my friend in the first place (but rather a friend of that fucking bitch who talked way too much...), so I have tried to avoid him as much as fucking possible in the past. But chance had it that he would show up on this bus ride of mine that very damn day, when I was looking absolutely embarrassed at the fucking box of cheapass golf clubs I was carrying in my hour long trek back home...

Now I'm an honest man to the blunt and dagger sharp point of a degree, so I quickly admitted to him that I had just bought my entire golf set on sale for just ninety nine bloody hell dollars downtown...

And of course, cue the laughs...

He promptly pointed out to me that every single one of his own fucking golf clubs back at his place costed more than ninety-nine fucking dollars each. Apparently, his entire current set costed him a grand total of over $1600. Not only that, but he upgrades his shit every damn golf season or even sooner than that. How the fuck can one (young) man with only a decent job afford a golf set that's worth more than my entire current fucking car, I don't know. All I do know, is that while I always do enjoy a good ribbing, it just didn't seem right coming from him...

... not about golf and self worth, at least...

It's not like he was being a true pissant or anything. He was more joking about the price of his golf clubs than purely bragging about them. And I did invite it, considering of course I made due fun of the fact that my fucking golf clubs costed me just ninety-nine frickin' dollars...

I mean, golf is one of those sports where it doesn't necessarily matter how good your golf club or sets are in terms of quality and functionality. But rather, it's all about how much they're goddam worth, how much they costed, and how damn rich it makes you look on the course. It truly is a rich man's sport, and I truly do suck at seeming rich...

That's just the thing though. Normally, this kind of shit never gets me down. Since when did I ever care for money, right?...

But I dunno, I just wasn't happy with the $99 golf set that I got. I'm sure it'll do me and my piss poor skills just fine if I ever take them to a golf course this year, but it just doesn't feel right to get a goddam $99 golf set, you know? Because for this one damn sport at least, it's not the quality of the golf sets that really matter, but the smug pride you get in the ability to sport and lug around a fucking set of clubs worth more than some people's goddam mortgages are...

Is that a real shallow way of seeing things? Absolutely. But that's why golf will forever be known as the rich white man's sport...

The thing is, I had a chance to be worth more money than I am now. I had a chance at a sixty four fucking thousand dollar job, with the ability to possibly make even more money just six months later down the road...

Now, there's no doubt in my mind that I would've hated that job with a passion. But thinking back to it now, looking at how much I fucking hate my current goddam job that pays me piddly money? Then what the fuck did I really have to lose?...

Back then, I was hoping and holding out for a better job than doing fucking COBOL programming, and I still stand by that part of my decision to this day. But except for my chance at getting that Rogers job, which failed miserably mind you, have I even had any decent opportunities out there since that job offer of mine? The contract at the government would've only taken me to fucking November if I wanted out, and they would've paid me the equivalent of SIXTY FOUR FUCKING THOUSAND dollars a fucking year, which would've been ridiculous...

But more ridiculous than lugging a $99 golf club set from Toronto all the way back to my suburban home, feeling like a complete fool in the process? I dunno...

Sure, I hate to sound like the kind of bigot who only gives a damn about money, the kind of bastard who measures a person's worth by their income. But really, in the case where I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place and two fucking jobs that I absolutely can't stand? Which of the two do I take? It really becomes a no-brainer if you just look at the fucking difference in salaries...

One job offered almost $65K a year, while my current one is merely worth just above thirty fucking thousand and nothing more...

Sure, the former deals with outdated technology that would look horrible on any resume application except to a fucking mainframe bank. But then again, it's not like I'm learning any new real skills at my current job that I give a shit about either. So really, I don't think things exactly worked out for me the way I planned this goddam summer...

And yes, I know that if I had taken the COBOL government job, I probably would've been kicking and screaming in agony all the way to the goddam bank, for selling my soul for sixty four fucking thousand dollars. But it was a no-win scenario in the end, I suppose. I just wonder now, if things would've been better in the end if I had just sucked it up and worked my ass off for the cash...

But no, wait. I would never do that. Not in any damn reality right now, mind you...

Because yes, I am that lazy.

And yes, I am that damn cheap...

... because when it comes to a fucking $99 golf set?...

Sure, this is one area where a real man just can't feel proud for getting a goddam deal...

... but even so?... well, still?...

It all sounds like so much goddam fun, now doesn't it?...

... if only I can learn to play golf without knocking my goddam driver head out of the fucking ball-park, that is...