Wherein I say a thing.

Holy shit I have a blog? Really?

Facebook has a way of bringing forth strange curios of the past in the same way a dog will occasionally drag home a dead bird. It means well, but it's often not something you want.

I created this way back when I thought I was funny, and had important things to say. As it turns out, I am funny and I do sometimes say important things but I am terrible at making these turn into electronic words. Mostly because I never remember this blog exists.

So, uh, my new job with the government takes up a whole lotta my time, giving me even less time for frivolous things like friends, and a life. Instead I am slowly being turned into a radio-carrying machine gun-firing death machine. This makes me cooler I suppose, but I sometimes long for the days when a machine gun was something I used in video games to mow down enemy pixels, not a 40 pound metal piece of shit that gives me back pain for a week in exchange for for a few fleeting moments of lead rain.

People always told me to never do a thing you love as work, and they were right. Machine guns and rocket launchers and grenades and assault rifles are now kind of... dull. Go figure. Turns out learning to be an action hero makes thrilling heroics feel mundane.

On the plus side, everything I do brings me one step closer to being hard as fuck, which means I can justify getting sweet ink done.

At this point I'd like to talk politics, except the nature of my job is such that all my political views must remain private. Which I understand but still feels unnatural. I guess I gave up my right to free speech to (nominally) defend yours. How I defend it by getting yelled at and blowing up paper targets I don't know but everyone says I am so it must be true right?

Actually the one thing I can talk about is the surreal experience of wearing a uniform in public. All it takes is some fancy clothes and WHAM! I become Canadian vales embodied, bringing peace the world over and valiantly serving my country, and people I've never met trip over themselves to thank me. I don't really have the heart to tell them that when I'm not training my work consists of playing Pokémon in an empty classroom.

That's right, Pokémon. You heard me. Shit's addictive. Actually I hear there's a shiny Suicine being distributed over WiFi. I gotta go do... soldier stuff. Yeah that's it. Soldier stuff.