CLICK TO BUY THE BOOK...0nly 99cents!

It was while working at a Nuclear Generating Station in Ontario, Canada that the author met many American contractors who specialized in nuclear contract work within North America.

These men and women jokingly called themselves Nuclear Whores and the website in which they found work was called http://www.roadwhore.com/.

According to the online ‘Urban Dictionary’, a Road Whore is defined as: “A temporary worker from out of town. In engineering and construction, road whores seek out and find massive bonuses, high pay rates, hazardous duty pay, per diem, housing allowances and any form of premium remuneration”.

These new friends taught him the ways of the contractor and he soon began a life as a nuclear contract engineer, moving from project to project around Ontario.

Soon after beginning his life as a nuclear contract worker, the author met and fell in love with a news journalist while doing improvisation at Second City in Toronto.

Three years later they got married. A year after that they gave birth to a son.

Unfortunately their love was short-lived. It ended two years into their marriage while living in Kincardine, Ontario while working under contract at the Bruce Nuclear Facility and she was home with their son.

One day, she packed everything including their son and moved to Oakville leaving the author in Kincardine, all alone.


Like many parents who suddenly find themselves inthis position, the author was surprised when told he was not an equal parent of his 1 year old son, but was what his divorce lawyer referred to as a “Secondary Parent”.

As such, he was not allowed to talk to his son whenever he wanted or to see him whenever he wanted. He had to fight to see his own son, and this took time.Without his boy in his daily life, he couldn’t eat, sleep or work. He was absolutely devastated.

After a few days, he went to his family physician who was immediately concerned for the author’s well‑being. This country doctor suggested a personal remedy of his for overcoming difficult times; he told him to concentrate all his thoughts away from the negativity of the present to the funny, happy stories of his past. He suggested trying to relive these memories, by recollecting them through painting, writing, songs, etc...

So, he wrote.

Each day, he concentrated on one funny, true story from his past. He would think about it for hours at a time, sometimes all day, and then would write it down. It took 42 days for the author’s lawyer to get visitation permission to visit his son in Oakville and in that time he wrote the stories that compile this blog.






Max the Slut



There is no better place to pick up than a wedding.

Everyone is dressed up, looking as good as they possibly can. Romance and true love are in the air. People are liquored up and dancing up a storm.

That is the recipe for easy pick ups.

And understanding that I do need all the help I can get to meet women, I used to take full advantage of weddings to try and meet lovely ladies whenever I was single.

However, this is not a romance story, nor is this a wedding story. This is a story of pure embarrassment; not exactly my finest moment in life.

It started when I met a lovely lady named Carine at the wedding of my friend Antony and his girlfriend Colleen many years ago.

Antony's wedding was held at a country resort about an hour or so, north-west of Toronto. Carine and her family had a cottage near Antony's parents and had become life-long friends of theirs.

I had actually met Carine once or twice prior to the wedding. She seemed very nice but there were no sparks at that time. In fact, I don't even remember if we had even spoken much before the night of the wedding. But that night, everything seemed to change. She looked beautiful, she was drunk...it was magical. We danced all night together in the resort's ballroom and afterwards we had more drinks on the lawn chairs by the outdoor pool. We talked and flirted and drank. It was great.

I asked where she was staying at the resort. The manager of the resort had made arrangements so that those attending the wedding were staying at the one end of the hotel. However, Carine had made her arrangements late and as such the only rooms available to her at that time were away from the rest of us.

Not that this was necessarily a bad thing. We went back to her room and because we knew we were away from everyone else, felt less inhibited to make some noise.

And noise we did make. The room shook. The walls shook. And Carine had chosen to use this new-found freedom to express her enjoyment vocally. Very vocally as it were.

Which was fine with me, I just laughed. I mean, I didn't know anyone around us.

Or that is what I had thought.

Very early the next morning as we were stepping out of the hotel room door to leave, we heard the door of the room beside us open.

I felt an instant twinge of embarrassment as I heard the door because of all the noise we had made throughout most of the night. However, I just took a deep breath and told myself that I didn't know them and was never going to see them again...so who really cared.

That's when I lifted my head to see the couple coming out of the room beside us.

It was Carine's parents.

Apparently, they had told Carine that they were not going to stay the night at the hotel and were going to leave after the reception. I guess they changed their minds and got a room later in the evening. Out of sheer coincidence, they got the room next to hers.

Everyone just froze upon seeing each other.

Her parents looked exhausted, hair rumpled, and dark circles under their eyes, which were wide open at this point and red in colour. It was obvious they didn't get too much sleep during the night. Their expressions made it clear they understood who was responsible for keeping them up.

You would think they would have concentrated their disgusted looks upon their daughter...but, alas...no. The father looked like he was going to kill me where I stood. All that I remember about her Mother was that her lip just quivered as she stared at me.

That's when I ran.

Yes, I ran away from them. I don't know why. I mean I was almost thirty at this point...we were both legal and we really did nothing wrong.

But yes, I ran; down the backstairs and to my room as fast as I could travel.

As I first turned to run and had made it almost to the stairwell door, I heard Carine say with a happy voice;

"Morning Daddy! So...you guys decided to stay the night?"

No comments: