Ahh... more death

So my brother's bagging on my door last night. I let him in and he tells me they found our uncle dead on his couch. Interesting. Today I talked to my mother and got the story. My cousin went to his apartment a few days ago to see why he wasn't answering his phone. She said he was asleep and didn't want to bother him. So a couple of days go by and he's still not answering the phone. So two of his sisters go to check things out. Still on the couch, but now his face is sunken in, there are flies everywhere, and there's that all too familiar stench in the air. I can't help but think of myself in the same position. 55, alone in my apartment, four days before anyone figures out I'm gone. Isn't life a bitch. The odd thing is, about the time he supposedly died I was thinking to myself, "It's been awhile since I've seen my Uncle Keith. I wonder what he's doing with his time." It makes me think of when my Grandfather died. I was disappointed that now, if I had any questions for him, it was too late. All his stories were gone with him. All that's left is a headstone. Or in the case of many of my relatives, all that's left is a mound of dirt and a number on a chart somewhere in southern Manitoba.

1st Launch

Blogs eh? What to write about... Well I'll dive right in and tell of the many times rage has flowed today. No. 1, I had to get out of bed. One of my least favourite activities. No. 2, I had to ride the bus. Ahhh... Winnipeg Transit - the bane of my existence. Also, some jackass in a jeep thought he was too cool to let me cross a driveway. No, no, no. That would have taken seconds out of his day with, who knows what kind of future ramifications. He looked at me and then slowly pulled across the sidewalk and waited for traffic so he could continue. That's when the viking in me wants to take control by punching through his window, grabbing him by the back of the head, and repeatedly smashing his face against the steering wheel. Then grabbing a beer and using his teeth as a bottle opener, I would chug it down and laugh boisterously over this defeated sack of crap. Keep in mind this is just one five second instance of my constant state of rage. I haven't even mentioned the two busses today that passed by as I was walking to my bus stop. That's when I long for a grenade launcher. I would be much happier if I could blow something up everyday but there's always people who want to destroy my fun. Bastards I say! Also the service at McDonalds today was extra crappy. That wasn't cool.
Man I could complain a lot more efficiently if I had someone to take dictation from me. Life is so unfair!