The Drudgery Report

Another week down with lots of time to kill. Everyday is pretty much the same. I spend them eating, sleeping, and playing Call of Duty working. I also spent a lot of time reading the internet. In fact, I finished it yesterday. It was okay.

Anyway, now that I’m done that I have time to write a post about the tedium that was life this past week. You don’t wanna read about that shit? Too bad. Continue reading

Life in the KAF Lane

I think it says something about a place when pretty much everyone there considers monotony a good thing. In KAF, every bloody day is pretty much the same and that’s ok because anything out of the ordinary around here usually just means things get shittier. So, yeah, the overwhelming boredom is starting to grate as I reach the mid-point of this roto but that’s better than the alternative. Thank Zeus for all the idiocy that goes on in this place…at least it gives me something to write about and this week had its share.

That’s a First

It's only a matter of time.

It’s only a matter of time.

I drive a shitty-ass, third world quality Toyota Prado here. Sure, the radio is overwhelmed by static if you turn on the rear defogger, there are no airbags and, even in 4 wheel drive, it lacks the power to drive out of 3 inches of gravel but I always consoled myself with the fact that the wheels didn’t fall off like they do the shitty-ass, third world quality Toyota Surfs so many people drive around here. Now, however, I’m concerned. A and I spotted our first Prado with a broken wheel-holdy-doodad. Uh-oh. Continue reading

Piglet and Poo(h)

If you’re eagerly anticipating a heartwarming tale from the the Hundred Acre Wood, you’ve been horribly misled. You see, I’m almost two weeks into this roto and they say “Time flies when you’re having fun”. Well, I wouldn’t know. They also say “Patience is a virtue”. They are fucking idiots. But, hey! Look at this picture of helicopters:

Yeah, cool or whatever.

Yeah, cool or whatever.

Continue reading

Parting Shots

Spotted near the fuel station.

I’m outta here for 4 weeks off tomorrow! As usual, I plan to write some posts from home and, as usual, I likely won’t bother. So, to tide you over in the meantime, here’s a photo rich compendium of KAF stuff from the last several days, starting with yet another messed up Toyota Surf . Continue reading

Rantin’ About Returnin’

You’ve got to continue blogging while you’re on leave so you don’t lose your audience” I said to myself between quaffs of beer. “Fuck off” I replied. That, in a nutshell, explains why I haven’t posted anything in the last several weeks. But now, I’m back in KAF and, once again eschewing its wild nightlife (which seems to consist of mambo lessons or cross fit…I can’t dance and while I rather enjoy being cross, fit holds no interest for me), to bring you everything you need to know about dining in a shit hole. 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.