Keep your stupid comments in your pocket!
Gah, the human race makes me so mad. All I’m doing is trying to submit my expertise to an online database of experts, and nitpicking nitwits are always coming in and ruining my answers. Fifteen years I spent as a builder, and these YOUNG people think they can outdo my own knowledge. It frustrates me, their foolish comments.
It’s just the internet; shouldn’t bother me this much. The internet is full of twits who are constantly trying to make people think they know what they’re talking about. I mean, who would even think that wooden platforms are superior to aluminium work platforms? Some person said that wooden platforms were ‘retro’, and actually lasted longer than aluminium platforms if you took care of them.
“They don’t rust!” he said, like an idiot. Yes, that’s because they decay and get mould instead. Thing is, his little squad of millennial followers all chimed in like trained monkeys, saying that ‘yeah, they’d heard that before’ and ‘yeah, sometimes the old ways really are the best!’ and ‘yeah, this old guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about’.
How dare they defile this exchange of knowledge, not only with their lies and inexperience, but their sickening overconfidence. I was around when Melbourne transitioned from wooden platforms to aluminium ones. These young people were still in kindergarten when I was setting up planks and trestles, wrestling with bailey ladders.
And they think they can tell ME what the old ways were, and if they were better? Those comments need to go RIGHT back into their pockets, and stay there. If only I knew how to actually develop a strong base of followers, so I could benefit from those sweet, sweet upvotes. Apparently, giving solid advice with competent grammar just isn’t enough.
I think I might have ended up with a restraining order…against the sky. Well, uh, sort of?
Okay, I really just like my heights, but it keeps getting me in serious trouble. There was the foiled skydiving attempt when I was on the plane to Tahiti, which in retrospect makes me glad that it was foiled. The base jumping society has banned me from all further meetings because apparently I make them nervous. And then there are the improv bungee sessions, which eventually landed me in court. A lot of things actually landed me in court, but this seemed to be the final straw for the judge. Now I’m banned from being more than twenty feet in the air, lest my natural urges take over.
No three-storey buildings, no bungee jumps, no climbing walls, and definitely no folding platform ladders. In my defence, I didn’t do any prior research into what folding platform ladders actually were for, before I went and attached a bungee cord to one of them. Now I have to make an official apology to the people at the building site, even though I didn’t actually break anything. I suppose they want to know that I’ve learned my lesson not to mess with building supplies, but with a restraining order on my further airborne activities, what’s the point?
I don’t know how I’m going to live, being so attached to the ground. Humans weren’t meant to just walk around their entire lives, you know? That’s why we were made with brains to let us invent things like hang gliders and jet packs, and reunite with man’s best friend (birds) in the air. So, all kinds of aluminium work platforms are definitely out. I need to find another way around this. The sky is calling.
Hey Mom and Dad,
Well, Australia is pretty much what we all thought it was going to be. I mean, there aren’t as many kangaroos around the streets, but otherwise, people are pretty much like they are back in Mississippi; real laid back, not all that concerned about time and stuff. I even took a bit of a trip to the country, and it’s even more like back home. Loads of dirt roads and people saying hi to each other on the street.
Though I guess some things are more modern than I was expecting, like…okay, get this. I told the agency that I was pretty handy with a paintbrush, so they got me working in a firm that did house painting and stuff. Back in Jackson, if we were doing a job like that you’d get the wooden scaffolding out and whatever. In Australia, aluminium platforms are basically everywhere. I made sure to ask if this was a thing, and the guys looked at me weird when I said I’d only ever used wooden material. Like, I just thought that was a painting staple. You paint on top of wooden platforms, and you can sort of collect mementos of all the jobs you do after there’s a bit of spillage. Nope, they said…it’s all about metal nowadays. Might even be some law to do with what stuff you use.
And I guess that makes sense, because that stuff is lighter than you’d believe. Dad, you remember when Uncle Shaun came over and we cleared out all the gutters since the wildfires were on the egde of the property and we didn’t want to place to burn down? And how you nearly put your back out carrying all his ladders to and from the truck? These aluminium ladders weigh nothing. Feels like standing on air.
I know I’m droning on, but the planks and trestles here are like something out of a sci-fi. Apart from that, most things are the same. Weird animals, though.