Lies, Damn Lies, and DFAC Menus

Another KAF-tastic week under my belt; just six more days til I go on leave. My mood has begun fluctuating wildly between bemusement, disgust, elation, confusion and disgust. Not an uncommon occurrence for any long-in-the-tooth KAF-ite as the end of a roto nears. On the bright side, M has released a new improved version of the DFACOmatic but then there’s all that stuff on the other side. But first, how about some Zeppelin?

Good Times, Bad Times

Good Times, Bad Times

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This is Getting Queuepid

The ridiculous line-ups at several of the DFACs continue to annoy but there’s been some decent food and a few other things that probably aren’t worth mentioning. Let me tell you about them… Continue reading

Two’s Company, Three Hundred’s a Crowd

I arrived back in my hovel last Saturday after 4 weeks off. I know you all want to see slides of what I did on my summer vacation; however, that’ll have to wait for the very special “Ireland” episode of Just DFACS Ma’am but here’s a teaser: their public washrooms are very clean. For now, I’ve just got a few bouquets and several brickbats to toss around regarding the last 6 days. Continue reading

The More Things Change…

We had some huge changes in personnel over the last few weeks but even with the fresh faces of new staff, KAF remains pretty much the same; some food was good, more food was bad, my workmates made inane comments and a Surf lost it’s wheel.

Spotted yesterday by M near the fuel point.

Spotted yesterday by M near the fuel point.

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Homefront to Back

I got back to KAF last week from a slightly extended time at home. I’ve been remiss in writing any posts due mainly to needing time for:
1. my aged body to adjust to the time zone;
2. my foggy brain to get a handle on the work stuff; and
3. my broken spirit to accept my fate.
Sorry about that. Anyway, I’ve got a large selection of disparate anecdotes to share both from home and from my first week back through the looking glass. Continue reading


Another Monday at KAF. It seems suspiciously like the six days that preceded it. With nothing singular to make any one day stand out, here’s a bunch of miscellany, much of which was quite irksome.

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Disparate Diatribes

If you like this fruit, you’re severely messed up.

It’s been a few days since my last post and I have an eclectic mix of runes, food, crime, sporting trivia and more fatuous dinner conversation. But, before we get into the blog proper, help me clear up a mystery: What the hell is this fruit? They have it out at the Northline on a semi-regular basis and it has the consistency and taste of a dish sponge. Continue reading


Here’s a quick post as a I work on a rather lengthy sequel to my Montenegrin epic.

"But...I'm thirsty".

Yeah, I ate it.

M:”Put down a layer of oatmeal and spoon a can of coconut cream over it and I guess you’ve got yourself a pie”
Me (poutily): “No, no you don’t. I thought it was fucking graham cracker crust…I love graham cracker crust”.
M:“I made mine into the shape of a piece of pie…it tastes better that way”.
Me (grudgingly):“It tastes pretty good actually…but it’s still not fucking right”.

Open Letter to Guy Using the Toaster at Cambridge this Morning

Dear Guy Using the Toaster at Cambridge this Morning,

Do you mind if I call you Asshat? No? Good. Well, Asshat, those toasters are designed to handle a pretty significant throughput of bread. The idea is that once your bread is loaded into it, others (most importantly, me) can then put their bread into it. If you put your bread into it then stand directly in front of the thing with your crotch pressed up against the tray shelf, no one else can put their fucking bread in. Then we all have to wait for your bread to be done, watch you take it out zombie-slow, drop your butter packet on the floor, bend down to pick it up like you’re in an action scene from Kung Fu, and chat to your fucking idiot friend about how clumsy you are before you finally get the fuck out of the way.

Maybe when that polite Canadian contractor said “excuse me” you could have stood back. Failing that, you could have taken the hint as he tried to reach past you with bread in hand. Instead, you stood there with that stupid ass, oblivious, newbie smile on your stupid ass face making stupid ass small talk with your stupid ass friend. Stupid ass.