What Is No, You Can't Come Back Tomorrow?

I just watched Ken Jennings finally lose a Jeopardy game. Wow, what a run that guy had. Something like 74 days and 2 and a half million dollars. He did pretty well, but now it's all over.

On 1 hand I'm sad to see him go because I really enjoyed watching him destroy people the way he did, consistently leading so convincingly that by the time Final Jeopardy came around they had no chance of beating him, and sometimes eliminating them from even participating in final altogether. But on the other I'm happy if for no other reason than that now I don't have to listen to people bitch anymore about how he's been around too long. Seriously, not much has made me happier today than knowing that soon all of these people will be forced to shut the hell up.

I actually heard somebody on a radio talk show a while back say that if Jennings was any kind of a man, when he won a million dollars he would have said that he'd done well but now it was time to give somebody else a turn. I can't believe that somebody could make a statement like that with a straight face, it's ridiculous. I would have loved to ask this woman if she could honestly say that if put in that position she would do the same thing, and then somehow force her to follow through on it. The truth is that very few if any of us at all would do that. If we were winning, there's no way we'd just quit because some people might be getting sick of us and the other contestants might get sad. It's a competition, and it's a competition where big money is involved. Cashing it in and going home is an easy thing to do when you're nowhere near the contest, but it gets quite a bit harder when the money you're playing for is money that you get to take home.

Think of what Ken Jennings did as bettering life for himself and his family. He's got 2 and a half million dollars in the bank that he didn't have before, more money than most of us will ever have. Not only that, but now he has the potential to make even more money now that he's a bit of a celebrity. Between TV appearances and speaking engagements this guy has it made, and I think that's where a lot of the resentment and jealousy comes from. The average person has a hard time getting behind a guy who knows everything and makes his fortune playing game shows because guys like that are everything that most people aren't but desperately want to be, smart, rich, famous and full of potential for future growth.

So congratulations Ken, you deserve it. Now can I borrow a few bucks?

What Are The Odds?

I'm not quite sure what to make of this one. On one hand I suppose it's not impossible, but on the other this whole lawsuit sounds like a bit of a cash grab to me. I'll let you decide, but every time I read it again it seems more and more far fetched.

MUNSEY PARK, N.Y. - A Japanese hibachi chef didn't know what he was getting into when he playfully threw a piece of grilled shrimp toward a tableside diner. The food-flinging incident at a Benihana restaurant is now being blamed for causing a man's death. The lawyer for the deceased man's estate says that the man's reflex to duck from the food caused a neck injury that required surgery. Apparently, the first operation had complications, so a second surgery was performed. Five months later, Jerry Colaitis died of an illness his family blames on the injury. Alleging wrongful death, Colaitis' estate is seeking $10 million in damages.

United States Of Whatever

I noticed something during the press conference earlier today featuring President Bush and Prime Minister Martin that up to now I haven't heard anybody else mention. It upsets me that I have to be the first to point this out since we should be able to leave it up to our news organizations to at least somewhat inform us of major events, but here goes anyway.

The most significant development today had nothing to do with any of the hot button issues that the experts predicted would dominate the day. Nothing to do with the economy, border security or anything else. No, it's much more urgent than any of that and something needs to be done before it's too late.

Ladies and gentlemen, George W Bush is a contagious disease, at least his language is. I had to step out of the room during the moment in question but if my hearing is accurate, and it usually is, then I heard Paul Martin say the word "nucular." Not only did he say it, he said it twice, and I don't remember ever hearing him say it before.

Some of you may think that I'm being alarmist and write this incident off as simply more of the pathetic ass kissing to which we have grown accustomed during the weeks and months leading up to the President's visit, but I think that there's something more sinister at work here. If you don't believe me, maybe you'll believe
CNN,
which reports that he's already gotten to Tony Blair. The Blair infection is much more advanced however, having gone beyond language to extend into attitudinal similarities.

So the question now becomes not what's going on here, but how do we stop it? Maybe the answer is medical, but until a cure is found there's only one way to prevent Martin from suffering the same fate as Blair. Someone needs to create an international incident harmless enough that nobody is injured or killed but at the same time severe enough that President Bush and Prime Minister Martin don't want to talk with each other unless they absolutely have to do so, and that person has to do it fast. And the way I see it, Martin has to go to bat for himself this time.

For the sake of his health, Paul Martin needs to sleep with Laura Bush, and he needs to do it soon. Maybe some of you reading this might have better ideas but the way I look at it, I can't think of many other things that would piss old George off sufficiently enough to cause him to adopt a strictly business because it has to be for political reasons relationship with Martin.

Sure, it would probably piss him off so much that he'd mess with trade relations more than he already has, but come on, a man's life is hanging in the balance, I think we can all make a sacrifice here. Who's with me? Nobody? that's what I figured, you terrorists.

Some People's kids

I have to say that in general, today I'm pretty happy. I basically put an end to all the work for that class that I couldn't stand. I have wanted to say that for a while, and the end is finally here!

But I saw something today that, no matter how awesome my mood is and no matter how many times I see it, makes me want to walk up to the people doing it and go, "Guys. You might want to use that bunch of tissue between your ears. Ya know. Your brain." I bitched about this in one of my columns, but every time I see it, it makes me want to bitch some more.

So let me set the scene for you. I am happily munching on my lunch in the food court-looking part of the main university building. There are others doing the same. Everybody's minding their own business. Then, out of the general din, we hear a bullhorn. Yes, a god damn megaphone thing. At first, it's impossible to discern what this dude is trying to broadcast to a bunch of people eating their lunches and getting on with their days. Maybe it's Mr. Wendy. Who the hell knows?

Then it becomes clear. He's chanting, "Bush, go home! Bush, go home!"
Bullhorn-toting freak: Where should he go?"
Crowd response (and when I say crowd, I mean 10 people): Home!
Bullhorn-toting freak: When should he go?
Crowd response: Now!

Ok, did I miss something? Did Bush come to our campus? Is he meeting with the president of the university or something for some odd reason? No! He's in Ottawa!

And here's where my problem begins. I have no problem with people protesting. I think, if done right, it takes a lot of guts and may do a lot of good. But these so-called political protesters might as well piss into the wind for all the good their protests are going to do. If you want to protest Bush's presence in Canada, go to where he is and protest. Don't stand in the food area of some university campus that isn't even in a capital city I might add and protest. Now all you're doing is drawing attention to yourself and making yourself look like a fool to anyone with more than a few brain cells to rattle together. Again, if anyone has an intelligent reason why political protests have even a snowball's chance of success in a university cafeteria, then by all means, enlighten me. I could even see it if it was about a student issue. Then go ahead. You've got a bunch of the student body watching, it's the prime spot. But something about the president of the United States? Yeah, real effective.

I can hear it now. "But these people can't just take off to Ottawa to protest. They're in school." Fine. Then start a letter-writing campaign. That would be far more effective than standing around yelling at people who aren't even connected to this whole thing.

They didn't even protest for that long, thank god. Then they went outside and stood beside an old cannon filled with cement. Think about that. They don't like Bush, probably because of his stance related to war, so they finish their protest beside a big cannon! Wow! Talk about symbolism shooting you in the foot. And talk about showing yourself to be an even bigger idiot. To all those people who want to protest in stupid places, please, do yourselves a favour. Think about other ways to be useful. I'm sure you can find one.

The Safety Dance

Have you ever been frying up some nice delicious hamburgers and suddenly thought to yourself "gee, I wish somebody would write a song about how to do this properly"? Me neither. But Carl Winter, a food toxicologist with the University of California did, and since nobody else was going to do it, he even went as far as to write and perform the songs himself.

Combining his musical background with his love of developing food safety education programs, Winter spends what seems to be way too much of his time writing and recording food safety parody songs. His 1 man band even has CD's available and gives live performances, I'm not kidding.

But you don't have to buy a CD to hear this greatness for yourself. Winter's
website
features many streaming examples of his work including such classics as I Will Survive, They Might Kill You/ We are the Microbes, A Case of Norwalk and many many more. Each song even has it's own set of Powerpoint slides if the musical experience just isn't enough for you.

I'm trying to think of a snappy way to end this post but it's not working so I'll leave you with a few lyrics so you know what you're in for, or so you know what you might be in for if you don't visit the site and take Winter's advice to heart.

I've got a sign
On my fridge door
Sayin' go away bacteria
Cause you're not welcome anymore
Listeria don't scare me nor does that nasty E. coli
Hey Salmonella?
Did you think I'd lay down and die?

Oh no, not I
I will survive
Oh as long as I am careful with my food I'll stay alive
Cause I've got all my safety plans
I disinfect and wash my hands
And I'll survive, I will survive

Hua!

I guess this is just random thoughts time. I need to be a little more alert before class, so I thought why not throw something up here. Hell I might get mad and then I'll be awake. Or maybe I'll type equally horribly as I did Tuesday.

Today I was walking down the street and I thought I noticed someone walk by. A couple seconds later, I knew I did, because I was hit with this wave of perfume. Why do some people need to wear so much perfume that it follows them in a vaporous cloud? Seriously, it was as if the perfume had wings and was flying like a little bird behind them. Easy killer. Who are you trying to impress with that? It's not working.

And speaking of smelly things, I decided to stroll over to Boing Boing because well I was bored and thought I'd check it out, and somebody's actually come up with something that will give off a smell when your phone rings. But apparently they smell like food! That would be cruel. Sniff sniff. No that's not lunch, just getting a call. I can see it all now. Please keep your phones on vibrate or smell mode in the theatre. Just as long as it doesn't smell like popcorn.

Granted I didn't read the story, because I ran out of time, but that's just weird.

And speaking of running out of time, I just did. Wasn't that a pointless post?

You Really Shouldn't Have

Partly because I'm such a swell guy and partly because I just came across this over on
Boing Boing,
here is a whole host of fantastic Christmas gift giving possibilities from what could soon be my favourite shopping spot on the entire internet,
Krappy.com.

Right now they're featuring a bunch of different items from various site categories on their main page as part of their Merry Christmassproduced special.

And if there's anybody out there reading this who isn't sure what to get me for Christmas, a
Bubble Wrap Terrorist
will do just fine. It's only $25 Australian, which is exactly 23.2047 Canadian as of this writing according to the
XE.com
currency converter. Happy shopping.

I Guess This Isn't A New Thing

After the craziness that was the Friday night basketball game that everybody's probably heard about by now, Sports Illustrated has put together a
list of some of the most memorable fan vs. athlete confrontations
that have taken place over the years. It's interesting stuff, not to mention a pretty good answer to the age old question, why don't they serve beer in glass containers at sporting events anymore?

Site Problems

If you've been trying to access the site for the last little while and you've been seeing strange bits of code or nothing at all, try again a little later. Something seems to be wrong and I'm trying to figure out what it is and hoping I didn't do it when I was posting something. I doubt I did, I think it's a Blogger problem and I'm betting it'll be fixed soon. Just hang tight and come back a little later.

Wholesome Family Entertainment

This is a clip from an actual children's TV show called "Rainbow" that used to be shown back in the 1970's. I hadn't heard of this show until yesterday when it was linked in
RAW Rage,
but now I want to track down every episode ever made to see if they were all this funny.

Seriously,
watch this clip
and marvel at how much these people were able to get away with. There's no way that all of the innuendo in this thing could be explained away with the old different expressions excuse. It's deliberate, it's funny, and it makes me hate the people who wrote the kid's shows that I grew up on for not being able to pull something like this off.

Could I speak to the man of the house please?

Arg. I just got called by a telemarketer. Man oh man. Part of me feels sorry for them because they must be so desperate for employment that they have to spend their days, evenings, nights, weekends, and all other hours they can selling vacuum cleaners, phone service, newspaper subscriptions, carpet-cleanings, cruises and whatever else telemarketers have to do. But some of them just piss me off. I don't know what it is, but the newspaper-selling guys are especially bad for it. I can stop them cold pretty easily though. It goes like this.

telemarketer. Hello. Can I speak to, ah, um, Ca-reen?
Me: Speaking.
Telemarketer: I'm calling from the (insert newspaper here). We're offering a 29-week subscription. Are you interested?
Me: Only if you have it in braille. I'm blind.
Telemarketer: Hmmm. Um. Sorry. Never mind. Bye.

Man it's fun to watch them run away. What I hate the most about them is when they get all pissed off when I don't want their subscription. It's like I've wasted their time rather than the other way around. Some of them just hang up. Well excuse me for being a thorn in your existence by not being able to read your crap.

The best response was one telemarketer who, after getting all stuttery and stammery when I dropped the blindness bomb on him, said, "Um, thank you for your time, and I'll pray for you." I told him not to worry, but I got off the phone and laughed and laughed and laughed. I got thinking after. I'm at home, going to school and not bugging anyone on a Saturday morning. Mr. Telemarketer on the other hand is probably getting sworn at, hung up on, and rejected. Who needs prayer more?

So another one from the Toronto Star called me tonight and I asked to be taken off their list. Let's see if they do it. I wonder when telemarketers will realize that badgering people in their homes is not effective business practice. It's one thing if you're already with the company. But all these morons calling us up at dinner telling us about their product or service trying to sell it to us. Do they think that we don't know it exists? Does this conversation actually unfold?

"Gee Mr. Telemarketer, I didn't know there were such things as vacuum cleaners. If you hadn't called me, I would have never known. Thank you for opening my eyes."

Somehow I don't think so. Stop! calling! our! homes!

Apparently I'm A Douche.

Apologies for the horrid typing in those last couple posts. Especially the snow one. Woopsy. That's what happens when the computer you're writing on threatens to crash and eat everything you're working with, that, and the dude in charge of that section of the library keeps coming over, and sort of staring at what you're doing and you just want to get it posted quickly! Hopefully that won't be a repeat occurrence. I don't like looking like a moron publically.

The Amazing Family-Destroyer

The other day, I had the TV on for background noise while I was doing some school-related drudgery, and on came The Amazing Race. Usually I'd flip real quick because I can't stand all these quote unquote reality shows. Reality? Ok whatever. But I was too damned lazy to change the channel, so I left it on. As it ran in the background, I noticed something really disturbing. All these people are trying for a million dollars, right? To do it, they basically do a race around the world. Ok, gotcha.

But here's where I get upset. Everybody's trying to outdo the next guy in speed to get the dough. They're stressed. They're flipping out, planning, running around like loons. Even in the first step of the race, everyone has to get on 3 flights, all going to arrive in Iceland within 5 minutes of each other. But oh no we can't just pick one, get on and relax. No no no. We have to turn this into a huge extravaganza of strategy and planning. Easy, it's five minutes. They're yelling at each other. There's this one couple that, if I was serious about the show, I'd want to see gone pronto because they're just way too negative, he is anyway. But then I think, "That poor woman has to go home with him." But my point is while they're bickering and screaming, freaking and fighting, they're missing the opportunity of a lifetime! I mean, how many times are these people going to get to go to all these places? For sure, after that, they'll never want to come back because it will just remind them of all the fighting they did, especially for those who don't get the money, which is 10 teams out of 11!

And wanna know the irony of it all? Most of these people said they came on this thing to *strengthen* their relationship with their partner/friend/parent/whatever. Ya think a highly competitive, high-pressured, televised race for a million bucks is going to strengthen your relationship? Try going on a vacation together. Try doing something fun together. If this is going to do anything, it's going to destroy what you have because it will bring out the worst in each of you. I mean this one guy kept telling his wife that he was starting to wish he'd brought someone else on the race! Another girl, while they had nothing else to do but drive, was commenting about how beautiful the sky was and how it reminded her of Scotland. Her boyfriend's response? "We're trying to win a race and you've got your thumb up your ass thinking about some place we're not? About Scotland?" Chill out, bro. You're in the car, going to your destination. Take it easy and enjoy the ride. Jesus.

I mean I hate reality shows anyway. But this one, especially this episode, just made me sad and made me think of how many people are probably missing the whole point of life just running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Chill out, people. If you're ruining relationships to get where you want to go, it's not worth it.

Sure, boss.

I was watching TV the other day, and sometimes I wonder if advertisers think that the IQ of the average TV-watcher is at the same level as a turnip. I mean, they'd have to to produce some of the shit advertisements they do.

Here's one for ya. Chef Boyardee however ya spell it. *checks so I don't look like a loser.* They talk about how good it is for the family. They talk about how it has pasta and meat. Ok, I'm with ya, sort of. I mean it's all right. But this is where it gets me. This woman says, "And I feel good about feeding it to my family because it has absolutely no preservatives!" Hold the phone right there, super mom. It's in a can! How do you suppose you can keep meat, vegetables, and pasta in the cupboard in a can without it going south real quick? How do you suppose it got in that can? Are you a moron? Of course it has preservatives, unless I have completely lost my marbles. If so, please tell me so I can find them. That commercial always makes my head spin whenever I hear it.

In the same vein, there's the slogan for Hamburger Helper. Hearty, Home-cooked Hamburger Helper. Nope, wrong, try again. It comes in a package. By that theory, KD is home-cooked. I just don't know how they can come up with this stuff and expect us to swallow it. They might as well just walk up to us and say, "Yep, you're all stupid. So we don't even have to try. You'll just believe anything we tell you. How about we tell you that the earth is flat and you were created by the magical powers of Harry Potter. Yeah, that sounds good. You fucks seem to like Harry Potter."

Don't get me wrong, I know advertisers have always thought of us as manipulatable numbnutses to some extent. That's why they have simple, easy to remember jingles that we can all catch ourselves singing. That's why they don't make their ads long and complicated. But before, they used to try at least a little to make their shit convincing. Now it's like they think they don't have to try to be clever at manipulating us. They can just tell us bullshit straight up and we'll believe them. And I'd be scared to see how many people actually would.

I really hope there are more of us who are thinking. Otherwise, how long will it be until some moron keeps cooked hamburger meat out in their cupboard and wonders why they get sick, all the while saying, "Chef Boyardee can. Why can't I?" Does that sound nutty? Hell anything is possible these days.

Nooooooooo!

I have been hoping, praying, wishing that I could make it through the semester and miraculously there would be no snow, and I was really starting to think my wish came true.

But oh no. Life is not going to be so sweet to me. I heard my prof say that there was snow last night in Winnipeg, and it's coming this way! Please please please be wrong. Please drop it all in Winnipeg, preferably on the roof of a house whose owner's name I'm not going to mention. Those who know me know who this is. Leave it all in Winterpeg!

For The Man Who Has Everything

If you're like me, you've got a few people on your Christmas shopping list who are impossible to buy for. Whether you have no idea what they like or you know what they like but they already have it, these huge pains in the ass have been the cause of much frustration throughout the holiday season since the beginning of time, or at least since some marketing genius thought up the concept of Christmas. But not this year my friends, not this year.

This year, get the gift you know the special man in your life who has everything or likes nothing doesn't have, a
penis tie.
Yes, a penis tie. It's not a tie shaped like a penis, it's a tie designed specifically *for* your penis.

I know that right now most of you are asking yourselves "why in hell would anybody want that," and the best answer I can give you is I haven't a clue. But it appears that somebody does, and he's planning to create and cash in on this new craze in time for Christmas. It's all explained in the article, which is a good thing because honestly, words fail me.

What am I trying to tell myself?

I'm awake very early from a strange dream I had. Wow. What a strange dream. I dreamed that I was at a family dinner of some kind. Maybe Christmas. We were all eating and everything seemed fine. My one uncle who is into gore started talking about stories about accidental deaths that involved blades. We were all grossed out, and some of us were telling him to stop, but he just kept going. This is normal for my uncle in real life, which makes the dream all the more freaky.

The next thing I know I'm outside with a bunch of us and someone's cutting down a tree. This was a bit weird. The blade flies somehow and hits me. Somehow it slices away part of my skull and exposes all my organs. But miracle of miracles I'm still conscious. All I can say is, 911, 911! One of my uncles calls, and my gore-obsessed uncle, without apology just keeps telling horror stories. And there I am, still conscious, blood everywhere, and I can feel the blood, that's the weird part. People are scurrying about, not sure what to do. All they can do is keep new people from getting close and sprayed with blood. Then my mom's standing over me, completely silent. That's when I know I'm real screwed if I didn't know that already. She just stood there. I'm still able to talk and I'm like I hope all the king's horses and all the king's men can put humpty together again. She just stood there. She said in a completely calm voice, they can't. It's impossible. I protested, "But I'm not in pain and I'm still conscious. Wouldn't I be dead already?" She said, "That is a surprise, but your heart is soon going to stop pumping blood to your brain and your brain can't take the strain of being uncovered for so long. Try to be calm and relax and just let things happen as they may." I try to take this all in. I get visions of instead of an ambulance arriving, an undertaker. I get visions of being locked in a coffin and buried alive. I get visions of being stitched together alive. Then I imagine that it's going to be a closed casket funeral anyway, who would want to see this? I laugh and say, "Well I guess I do everything weird, even death." Mom doesn't laugh. Most people have left. There are just a few of us now. Mom and dad are sitting on either side of me, and the tree-cutting guy is lying in a heap in the corner sobbing. He's just in total shock and no one's helping him. I start to feel dizzy and my eyes start to close. I take a deep breath, smell the air, make one last attempt at a joke, touch mom and dad, try and absorb everything about the world that there is to take in. Suddenly there are too many things to appreciate...and then I wake up!

Boy I have never been so happy to be laying in my bed, not on some snow. How happy I am to see my head is whole and not in pieces. All I can say is, what the fuck? Is part of me saying I'm not appreciating things enough? I really hope this isn't a premonition of some kind. Not that I believe in that crap, but woe. Is someone trying to tell me to live every day as if it were my last? Holy crap.

Well now that I don't feel so frazzled, I think I'll start getting things done. Nothing like a little death dream to get things moving.

McGreggor

A Scottish old timer is in Scotland, in a bar, talking to a young man. The old man says:

"Lad, look out there to the field. Do ya see that fence? Look how well it's built. I built that fence stone by stone with me own two hands. I piled it for months. But do they call me McGreggor- the-Fence-Builder? Nooo.."

Then the old man gestured at the bar. "Look here at the bar. Do ya see how smooth and just it is? I planed that surface down by me own achin' back. I carved that wood with me own hard labor,
for eight days. But do they call me McGreggor-the- Bar-builder? Nooo..."

Then the old man points out the window. "Hey, Laddy, look out to sea. Do ya see that pier that stretches out as far as the eye can see? I built that pier with the sweat off me back. I nailed it board by board. But do they call me McGreggor-the- Pier-Builder? Nooo..."

Then the old man looks around nervously, trying to make sure no one is paying attention. He leans closer to the young man and says, "But ya fuck one goat......."

Why, Daddy?

I heard something on the bus that just made me sad. I don't even know if I can make this make sense to anyone else but myself, but I'll try. I heard a little kid, maybe 6 or 7 sitting with someone who sounded like he was only in university, but I wasn't sure, but the kid seemed to know him. They were talking, and the kid looked at a sticker on the bottom of his toy, and said, "Made in China. Wonder what it's like in China." At this point, the dude he was sitting with started into this big speal about how people in China work in horrible conditions and all the company ever cares about when getting them to work is about profits and the people are basically slaves. After a couple repetitions of "why?" the kid was silent for the rest of the bus ride. At least this is what I heard. Somebody please tell me why this little kid has to know that this sort of thing happens yet? And, does the guy really know that that toy was made in horrible conditions? Does he know for a fact that everyone in China works like slaves? Way to fill this kid's head with your ideas of what it's like in China. Holy wow the poor kid was not prepared for that reality, or this dude's view of reality, bomb. Why don't you just tell the poor little guy that there's no Santa Claus, the easter bunny doesn't exist and the tooth fairy is his mom. The hell with innocence and fantasy altogether.

Then I heard something about think about that the next time you play with your toys. Ok hold the pony. Somebody bought him those toys. If you did, then you're real sick because you acknowledge those horrible working conditions, and then give that company more money. If you didn't, how dare you turn him against his parents through his toys? Now he'll go home and wonder about his parents. I'm all about opening somebody's eyes, but like this? I guess this only happens in this hippy vegetarian city.

Maybe I misheard the whole conversation, but that's what I heard. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. But I couldn't believe that he was telling him all that. IT's one thing if the kid brings it up first, but to do it that way. I don't know. I just found it unsettling. Maybe I'm a wimp. But it won't leave me alone. Maybe it will now. What does everybody think? Does this seem normal?

Live Survivor Series Coverage

If you're not watching Survivor Series tonight but you still want to know what's happening, you can get live coverage throughout the night
right here.

All you have to do is refresh that page and you'll get the latest updates on what's going on.

Roundtable Time

Survivor Series is tonight and that means only 1 thing. Actually it means quite a few things but for our purposes it means that it's time again for some of the Salty Ham staff to make our predictions. And true to form, we've done exactly that. If you want to check them out,
click here.

Salty Ham will also have live coverage of the show so if you aren't ordering it, thieving it or otherwise getting the results, come on over and get them from me. You can look in the wrestling news section for the ongoing report, then just keep refreshing the page to see the latest happenings posted just as fast as my own abilities and technology will allow.

On Health

As a public service, I invite you to visit the website of the
Scrotal Safety Commission.
Yes, there really is a
Scrotal Safety Commission.
I have nothing more to say.

Cereal Killer

No, I'm not an idiot. I really do mean that cereal. Let me explain. I saw something on the bus that just scared me. It shook me to the core and made me question once again the safety of riding those huge machines with people packed in them like sardines and no seatbelts. I was riding happily along on a relatively empty bus. It came time to switch buses, and there was some delay between when we pulled in and when I would change buses, so I started talking to the driver. As she talked, I heard, crunch. Apparently so did she, and it was as startling to her as me. When she looked down to investigate, she exclaimed, "The last driver of this bus had a bowl of Cherios! There are cherios on the floor under the driver's seat!"

First, I tried to envision how one, either passenger or driver could manage to eat *anything* while riding the bus. Those things don't have the world's greatest suspension systems, and the drivers love the brakes. I'd imagine the only end result of eating on the bus would be decorating your clothes with your meal.

Then I tried to imagine how a driver of the bus would manage to eat. I didn't ask whether there was milk on these cherios. If there was, yuck what a mess. Anyway, she said that you would in fact need two hands on the wheel, like I thought. So if the guy was driving technically properly, this guy would have to be bent over the cherios eating them like some kind of animal. But then he wouldn't be watching where he was going.

Then I was very thankful that I wasn't either walking on the street or riding the bus driven by our cherio fan. It seems like a deadly combination. Please bus driver dudes, eat your cherios at home!

Speaking Of Poems

I figured since we're talking about love poems that now would be the perfect time for me to share my favourite one with all of you. No, it's not a limerick and I suppose that in a technical sense it's not even a love poem. Rather it's a touching tail of lost love and the trials and tribulations that 1 man feels after losing the love of his life. It's called Sometimes I Miss Her, and it goes like this.

I ran into my old girlfriend on the street the other day.
Then I backed up, and ran into her again.
But sometimes, I miss her.

Love Poetry

For some reason I got thinking about love poems the other day and I realized something. I've seen many love poems over the years, and a few of them were even meant for me. some of them are quick, simple and awful, some of them are long, complex, overly drawn out and awful. Don't get me wrong, I've gotten some really sweet ones and hopefully I'll get a few more, but I find that a lot of the time the writer tries way too hard to get across in words what could easily be expressed in much simpler terms or better yet, with a kiss. But that's not what I realized, I always knew that.

As I sat here pondering this issue I was struck by the realization that even though I've read many love poems, there's 1 thing I've never seen, a love limerick. Why is that? Limericks are arguably the most accessible form of poetry in existence. They're rigidly formulaic which makes them reasonably easy to put together and they're not intimidating to the non-English literary set, a group to which I'm fairly sure I belong.

But after giving it considerable thought I think I've come up with the reason for the lack of love limericks. It boils down to 1 simple truth, that being that thinking them up is goddamn hard. Seriously, sit down and try it for a little while. It's not as easy as I thought. Maybe it's because I'm still a little bit sick and by the time I got to the third line my head was spinning, but it's not as simple as it looks.

Feel free to prove me wrong, that would make me happy. I'll keep trying to prove myself wrong too, because I honestly feel that the limerick is a vastly under-rated poetic art form that deserves far better than the beating it takes from the elite of the poetry world who are constantly trying to diminish it's worth as a style in an attempt to prop up their own overly wordy non-rhyming brand of whatever the hell that stuff is. Let's show them that the limerick and all of it's greatness has a place, and a prominent one at that, in the world of writing. Together, we might just be able to do this.

Everything sucks today the second.

Yep, I'm an unoriginal copycat. So sue me. Well things don't suck nearly as much in my life as they seem to in Steve's, but I'm in a rather suckalicious mood, and I have a bit of time to spare, so here we go. Everything sucks for me cause I'm stuck at the school library until well after any sane person should be there. I have to meet with some people in that class that I'm o so fond of. Then I get to walk home in the frigid cold. I actually gave in and got out the winter coat, and the day I break out the winter coat, I'm never a happy camper. And I got a mark back from a class that I thought I was doing well in. Well Guess what, sparticus? Not only does everything suck, apparently so do I! Now all that's left is to find out that I suck in French too. And I get to do that most likely in about, hmmm, an hour.

So is everybody's day sucking, or just ours? I am very happy to not be feeling sick, and I did get to see a friend, so that was cool. I just hate hate hate the cold, and the fact that I probably won't make it home until 9:30 or so. Ick. I should be happy it's not snowing. Now that I've said that, I'll get caught in horrible snow.

Well I should probably do something productive. Have a less sucky day everyone.

Everything Sucks Today

Wow, dig that Descendents reference there. I'm so musical it scares me sometimes.

But seriously, everything does suck today. for one thing, it's below freezing outside. It's the 8th of November and it's 2 degrees below 0. That's not cool. Well actually I suppose it is, but puns are stupid so we'll move on.

In case you can't tell, this is going to be one of those random posts where I just start writing about my life without any one point, just directionlessly typing out sentences and seeing what I come up with. But sometimes those generate the most discussion since for some reason you people seem to like looking into the ever so exciting lives of myself, Matt and now Carin.

Speaking of Carin, she's totally owning my ass when it comes to content. What a Friday she had. I haven't seen a posting day like that from 1 person since...uh...since the last time I saw one like that. But seriously, I'm glad to have her around. She's writing some great stuff and I know she's got more ideas. I'm looking forward to seeing what she comes up with and I hope you guys are enjoying her stuff too.

And while I'm giving props and shoutouts to people, it's time to dust off an old VC staple, the plug. This one goes to one of my fellow
Salty Ham
contributors
WT Harmon,
who is helping out a friend of his with a new site. So if you've got some time, and if you spend the time it takes to read the stuff here let's face it, you probably do, check out
Insert Label.
There's some cool stuff going on there and it's definitely worth a look.

And while we're on the subject of Harmon, the one thing that doesn't suck about the last day or so is that I won his prediction contest and now I'm looking forward to a package of yet to be determined wrestling goodies in my mailbox. Yea me!

Quick question. Is directionlessly a word? I used it a couple of paragraphs ago as if it was one but I'm not so sure that it is. Well whatever, it is right now. But if anybody knows, feel free to fill me in.

But back to why everything sucks. I already mentioned the cold, but on top of the freezing temperatures, I'm sick. I started coming down with some sort of nasty stomach problem yesterday and as the night went on it kept getting steadily worse. It's stopped getting steadily worse which is nice but what's not so nice is the fact that it hasn't started getting steadily better yet. So here I am, feeling like absolute crap on a cracker, with freezing weather outside and a lack of energy to do much of anything including going to the store to buy things that I want and need. So if anybody wants to run out and grab me some pop, milk, juice, bread and chips, that would be awesome of you. I'll even pay you the money back for all of it when you bring it here. But even with that offer on the table I fully expect that I'll be hiking down to buy this stuff myself when I get better. Thanks a lot, ingrates!

And now that I've called you all a name, I'm going to turn around and thank you for giving the site 10997 hits up to this point. That's not bad for a blog staffed by people who nobody likes and who never write anything. Thanks for all of the support, it's seriously appreciated.

I'm gone for now but since I'm not going too far from home in the next while you might hear more from me. Maybe Carin will pop in with something too, you never know. In the meantime, stay warm unless you live in a warm climate in which case, blow me, you lucky prick.

Steve

A Most Unusual Day

Imagine a day when everything's the opposite of what it should be. You wake up. You go to do your laundry and on your way out of your apartment you run into your neighbour. he's an ordinary guy. You always happen to see him leave on his bike somewhere, seems to be keeping rather busy. He's always offering to help you with something. Anyway, he tells you in conversation that he has cancer, has been fighting it for years, but it has returned and now it's near his brain. You're completely floored and after you finish talking to him, you head off to do your laundry. But you're always bringing the wrong money or you somehow end up leaving without your soap. You manage to get the laundry in the dryer, but you have to go somewhere before it's done. You leave your clothes there and hope for the best. You run to where you're going, and a fountain that's part of the town square, a fixture, isn't running today! You realize this just before you slam into it, and look like a complete dope. You get to where you're going, and the people who are usually mean are really nice, and the people who are usually insincere seem to mean what they say today. You leave there a few hours later to catch the bus to meet up with some other people. But you miss the one bus and the next bus doesn't move its ass for a good five minutes after it's supposed to. You get up to where you're going, but the people who you're meeting aren't there. Then you meet some people who are really nice, nice enough to run around with you looking for the people you were looking for in the first place. You check everywhere, but no dice. So you go back home. You go to play the "where's my laundry" treasure hunt, but miracle of miracles, it's all in the dryer where you left it!

Sound like a weird day? Now imagine that it's real. You don't have to. It is. That was my Wednesday.

Gimme Gimme Gimme

Wow, I seem to have a lot to say today. Don't know if it's of interest to anyone, but here we go.

I don't know what it is about some blind people who think they're some how entitled to the moon because they're blind. I know it's only some, but they're a loud little bunch. It disturbs me to see it. They'll ask for something, like asking to move into a place early, wanting something for free or cut back, wanting special treatment where it really isn't necessary, and if they don't get it, they'll pull the blindness card. I almost expect this conversation to unfold:

Whiny Blink: Is there any cheesecake?
Waitor: No. We're all out of cheesecake.
Whiny blink: But I'm blind and so I need the cheesecake.

I mean it's an exaggeration, but I wouldn't put it past some of them to do something similar. I mean there are some cases where you need to ask for things because of the blindness thing. Like you can't exactly expect me to hand-write you a note and read print. My eyes won't heal themselves. But so many take it way too far. I especially see this crap happen if they want a discount. I saw one person actually try and haggle a discount out of a cab driver because he was blind. Dude, that's not cool. That's the cabby's livelyhood, and sometimes it's just easier to use a cab. But that's a convenience thing, and you don't ask for a discount! That's just wrong! But do they speak up when there's actually a legitimate complaint? Perhaps something to be done to do with accessibility? Nooo! That's too much work. it's only when it looks like they might get something for free that they fight tooth and nail.

This shouldn't bug me. There are all kinds in this world, so I shouldn't care. But it does. It does because the whiny blinks always seem to stand out like sore thumbs, and since there are so few of us compared to the huge masses, every single one of us is a representative for the whole group. So when I see them pulling out the "But I'm blind so..." speal, and I can tell the people they're crying to are pissed off, I swear the pissed off ones are going to think we're all like that. Stop setting bad examples! At least try to do what you can and don't expect a damn free ride.

Double Screw-up

While I'm on the subject of school and gouging, it just pisses me off to see how unbelieveably unprepared universities are around here for the double cohort. For people who don't live in Ontario, or Canada for that matter, in the good old days, there were five years in high school. Grade 9 through O.A.C. or grade 13 in the real real good old days. But around, hmmm, 7 years ago, the government decided that after a certain point, there would be no more fifth year of high school. But they didn't just cut it off, ker snap, and leave the aftermath to be dealt with by the universities and colleges. No. They decided that for the grade nines entering in a certain year, and all students after them, they would not have the fifthe year, but for anyone already in high school, they still had it. This means that in a certain year, which happened to be last year, the last group of kids who had O.A.C. and the first group of the new structure graduated high school at the same time and flocked to get degrees. This is what they call the double cohort.

So why is it that the schools still were unprepared. They had at least 7 years to plan for it, and I'm sure there were stats on how many students there were across the province. I mean that wouldn't give exact numbers, but that would give a general idea, and it would be a hell of a lot more useful study to conduct than the ones I see now coming out of schools on shit like whether or not overcrowding is hazardous to your health. Thanks for the update sparticus. But alass, in September when the new clump arrived, what were the schools doing? Still building lecture halls and residences. I'm not joking. And they tell us not to procrastinate. Practice what you preach.

And now it's getting worse because this mass of students is getting older. So in first year it's not so bad because the classes are big anyway. I mean it sucks, but it's not insurmountable to get everybody herded into huge lecture halls and teach that way. But this year they're in second year, and next year they'll be in third! That's when classes are supposed to shrink. But they're not, so everybody's freaking. Classes that usually have 40 students are going to have 90. A zillion courses are being offered distance ed now because they don't have enough profs. I mean, what were they thinking? That they'd all fail out until we were left with the usual class sizes? Isn't that just wishful thinking, and an awfully foolish way to do things? "Oh maybe the problem will just go away on its own." Well no, boss, it's not.

I'm just really glad I'm getting out when I am. But it makes me sad to see how screwed those kids are, and while everybody passes the hot potato of blame, they all struggle with the consequences of a serious case of administrative procrastination.

How can we gouge you today?

I swear things don't make any sense any more. Here are two places where I just stand back and go, "huh?" First off is university fees. Yeah you guys know my feelings about the infamous print card. Did I mention in there the infamous graduation application fee? *Checks old rant*. Nope. Phew. I'm not recycling old material. Anyway, yes, you heard me right. You have to tell the university you want to graduate. What is the point of all that anyway? I mean, who's going to work and practically sell their soul to get a degree and then just walk away and say, "no I'm not graduating today." Of course you're going to graduate. And what is the university going to do, provided you have all your shit? deny your application? "No we're not letting you out yet. Give us more money." Oh wait they probably will. I feel like I'm applying for parole. But the whole point is you have to pay for this application. And if you're late in getting it done, you have to pay more money. Hell at this point they should be rewarding me with some money for all I've given them, or at the very least, let me graduate for free. I'm sure they have a surplus somewhere. I feel like the university is like the government. When someone dies, the family has to pay death duties. You'd think at the end they'd leave ya alone. But oh no, we have to get our last gouge in.

And here's another case of legal robbery that makes no sense whatsoever. Ok, I'm applying for a guide dog, bla bla bla. But part of the application requires you to get a physical. Apparently, if you just want a physical for the good of your health, the health care system is fine with that. But if you're getting a physical because it's mandatory, like in this case, you have to pay for it, plus the charges for the doctor filling out any forms. I'm ok with the charges for forms. But it's the same! damn! physical! The doctor's doing the same job. It's just for a different purpose. It's not like there's a mediocre checkup and a super duper one. If there is, there's a problem. They should be exactly the same. That's like you going to the store and if you're buying milk for you it's a certain price, but if you're buying it for Uncle Joe, you have to pay more, cause it's for Uncle Joe! It's the same! damn! milk!

I can even understand if you had to pay more if for some reason you had to get two of them in a short period of time. But I'm just getting one, and I haven't had one in a long time. I don't understand. I swear it's things like that that turn us into liars. When I actually book it, I'm just going to say I want a physical and then when I get there with the forms, it's too damn late for them to gouge me. Unless of course the poor shmuck at the front desk reads this blog, in which case, I'm fucked.

Did I Write Something I Didn't Write?

This was posted in the comments under my post from the other day called He Was Asking For It, the one all about how I refuse to feel sorry for people who find themselves in harm's way because they choose to vacation in war zones like Iraq. I'm going to guess that this person took it upon him or herself to get offended before he or she finished reading the post or at the very least before what I actually said had a chance to sink in. At no point did I say anything remotely related to this comment and the one point that whoever this person is could have had me on I addressed in the first or second paragraph of the original post.

Hmmm, by that logic, if i was at the end of my rope, and i asked you to blow my head off....it would be ok, cause i asked you too?

and the troops that went over, they cchose to be in the army, they chose to be there.....are they are asking for it? Some things just just shouldn't be said, no matter how logical they seem in your head.
WTF | 11.04.04 - 7:33 pm |

Here's how I responded on the boards just a few minutes ago.

Had you actually read what I wrote you would have noticed that I said people who are there on business are different than people who choose to vacation in places where wars are going on. The army is a job and when you're in the army you expect to be put in dangerous situations because it's what you do. You sign up knowing that you're going over there and you might not be coming home. Now somebody like me on the other hand, I'm not in the army and I have no purpose for going to a place like Iraq and my doing so would be completely stupid and if something were to happen to me there, it would be my own fault, which was my whole point.

And I forgot to ask this in the first place which is a huge oversight on my part, but just where in the hell did that bit about me blowing your head off if you asked me too come from? That scenario wasn't even mentioned anywhere in the article. Did you actually read it? Maybe before you take offence to my logic you should at least take the time to figure out what that logic actually is. It would give your arguments some much needed credibility and validity.

But if you or anybody else thinks that I'm way off base here and that I actually did say what I'm being accused of saying, feel free to show me where that is. But since this is my sight, I get to fire the first shot, and my first shot is this quote, taken as directly as a quote can be taken from the post in question.

"Could somebody please explain to me why it is that I'm supposed to feel sorry for people who get themselves injured or killed in war zones that they visit of their own free will? I'm not talking about people who go their on business such as those who are there to provide humanitarian aid to the people in whatever country it is, I'm talking about people like
this guy,
who head off to Iraq just because they're curious about what's going on there."

Good luck.

Too politically correct? Na! Never!

Ok, today I saw something that made me just go, "Huh?" I was surfing around and I was looking at a site for one of the guide dog schools, and I saw a link that said, career change dogs. That was just one of those statements that makes your head spin and if you don't get it explained right quick, you might cause a blood vessel to burst from the strain of trying to discern what the fuck that could possibly mean. Is a career change dog a dog that didn't make it into the guide dog stuff so is now a hearing ear dog? Is a career change dog a dog that somehow helps someone deal with a career change? Those two, although weird, make sense. But no no no. Things can never be simple in this world.

Get ready for this. A career change dog is a dog that doesn't make the grade as a guide dog either for physical or mental reasons. So they're selling them to the general public for 600 bucks or you can apply to help out in the career change dog program. So, face it dudes, you're giving out glorified pets! Pets! that's what they are. They're not career change dogs, they're rejects. Don't worry, dogs can't read, you won't hurt their feelings, call it what it is! That's just one way that we have too much political correctness around. I'd like to meet the brain surgeon who came up with that slogan. Then maybe I'll tell him he's a career change person. Let him think on that one, see how he feels.

I Never Forget A Face, Especially When It Used To Be Mine

Brad sent this one along and I'm not quite sure what to make of it. It's an interesting concept for sure but it's kinda weird to say the least. Would you do it?
Clinic gets approval to do face transplant

This Is The Best Joke Ever

A person, belonging to an ethnic group whose members are commonly considered to have certain stereotypical mannerisms, met another person belonging to a different ethnic group with a different set of imputed stereotypical mannerisms.

The first person acted in a manner consistent with the stereotypes associated with his ethnic group. He proceeded to make a remark, which might be considered to establish conclusively his membership in that group. Whereupon his companion proceeded to make a remark with a double
meaning. The first meaning of which could be interpreted to indicate his agreement with his companion. But the other meaning of which, serves to corroborate his membership in his particular ethnic group.

The first person took offense at his remark, and reacted in a stereotypical way.

He Was Asking For It

Could somebody please explain to me why it is that I'm supposed to feel sorry for people who get themselves injured or killed in war zones that they visit of their own free will? I'm not talking about people who go their on business such as those who are there to provide humanitarian aid to the people in whatever country it is, I'm talking about people like
this guy,
who head off to Iraq just because they're curious about what's going on there.

Here's a free tip from me to you. If you want to know what's going on in Iraq, before you book your flight to check things out firsthand, try picking up a newspaper or turning on the TV. That should give you a pretty good idea of the situation there which last I heard, wasn't that good.
And here's a bonus piece of advice for you just because I'm a nice guy. After you've done the 17 seconds of research that it should require to rule out Iraq as your vacation spot of choice, call your travel agent and see what the prices are like for Mexico, or some other place where there aren't quite so many tourist killings and where the worst things you'll have to deal with are all the foreigners and the lovely tap water. Oh, and who can forget the odd mugging at gunpoint but that can happen to you right outside your own home so really it's not worth sweating that too much. In fact, the more I think about it, why should you go on a vacation at all? If you want to see people from other countries and experience other cultures, go outside for a few minutes. If you want to drink water that will make you sick and slowly kill you, turn on the sink. And if you want to experience the pure rush that is getting robbed by an armed maniac, loudly count your money while standing near one of those outdoor bank machines and you should get your wish in a matter of minutes.

But getting back to my main point, I'm not sure why it is that we're supposed to feel bad when some guy who decides that it might be fun to explore the fabulous hiking trails of Baghdad finds himself taken hostage and eventually offed by a group of extremists. Personally, I don't and I've got a good reason for that. His name is
Mark Sokolov.
If you don't have time to read the story linked above, I'll explain him to you.

Mark Sokolov managed to survive the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11th. He was working in his 38th floor office when the first airliner hit the other tower. He managed to safely escape and did so virtually unharmed. Gee, that was close. But even though he dodged a pretty big one there, Sokolov hadn't had enough close calls. So what is a man who seemingly wants to get himself killed in the worst possible way to do? If you said go on a family vacation to Jerusalem and walk through the middle of a bomb blast, you would be correct.

For some reason his story made international headlines, not one of which was titled Douche Bag Dad Squanders Second Chance At Life, Kills Family At Same Time. Instead, he was interviewed by just about everyone and he was either treated like a hero or he spoke about his experiences lightheartedly complete with such quotes as "I was obviously a lot luckier last time, This one involved my whole family."

Does that statement make absolutely 0 sense to anybody else, or is it just me?

But that's beside the point. It seems to me that if somebody gave me a first chance at life let alone a second one, that I would do everything I could to protect it and treat it like something of value because without your life, all of your other valuables are worthless. What ever happened to that survival instinct that everybody by nature is supposed to have? Maybe some of us were born without one or maybe it's simply a case of natural selection doing it's job. But whatever it is, the only thing I'm sad about is the state of the human race as a whole, not the individuals who find themselves in these pickles of their own creation. No, they're just here to serve as the entertainment while the stronger of mind among us sit back and watch the fun.

Pretentious bullshit

Well, aren't I in a happy mood? There's just something that's been pissing me off, and it pissed me off enough to write it down. Like I said before, I go to school, and I don't know what it is about other people who go to school that makes them think they're better than everyone else. For me, I go to school for a reason. To get a degree so I can have a piece of paper so I can say I went to school and now I have some semblance of qualifications. I've come to find out that they don't seem to give a rat's ass what that degree is in, just as long as you have a degree. I know that this degree is a means to an end, to get out and join the real world.

But there are people who I see around me who think that because they are going to school, they are somehow enlightened folk, and they are better than those who don't go to school. Let me give a couple of examples. Right now I'm taking a course which I can't stand, but I'm almost done my degree, so I'm sucking it up. It's about gender and organizational dynamics. Snore snore snore. Basically the whole course just keeps telling us that women are fucked because they're women and they're just doomed to get a big fat goose egg on the glass ceiling and never go anywhere. Talk about starting off your self-fulfilling prophecy. Anyway, I heard something in that class that pissed me off. The prof said, "Maybe not as much discriminatory behaviour happens here because this is a university. Perhaps it is more prevalent in the less educated population." Wake up, sunshine, education doesn't make a lick of difference in this case. If people want to be dicks, they can be a more educated dick or a less educated dick. They're still inherently a dick. Open-mindedness and education are two different things. It's about beliefs, not whether or not you're used to having to use no. 2 pencils to fill out multiple choice tests.

Believe me, I know. I've met plenty of these educated dicks, and they often think they are among the enlightened folk. I worked for departments at the university, and that's where I got treated like the most shit.

Here's another example. A friend of mine who's in my same program said this about her boyfriend the other day, and I wanted to take her and shake her until I didn't have any rage left in me. "Maybe it's because I go to university and he doesn't that I can't have a conversation with him. I'm just more articulate than him." Ok, hold the damn poney. I've met some pretty inarticulate university students and some people who didn't go to school who could talk circles around me. Don't use your level of education as an excuse for why your relationship is failing. If you're so damn incompatible, why do you want to be with him anyway?

And this was the one that provoked me to write this morning. I'm choking down this bullshit for the class I can't stand which we've all started calling "Men are Pigs" class, and I read this statement:
"The person who fixes your refrigerator probably makes more than the local librarian."
Well wouldn't you expect that? I'd rather that my meat not give me salmonella than, woe is me, I can't find the philosophy of socrates in the library. I don't understand the theory that because this person has to do with reading, they obviously need more money than anyone else, even though fixing the fridge is kind of more practically important. I think the fridge dude should get more money. Fridge dude might save my life.

Don't get me wrong, librarians are important and if we can't read, we're all fucked because we'll just believe what we're told, oh wait that's happening already. But christ it's a stupid comparison to make to prove that women aren't getting enough money in that job, and it's pretentious to belittle the person who's doing a supposedly lower status job just because they didn't go to school.

Ah. I feel better now. Now how to end this post. I just hope it makes someone think, even if they disagree with me and think I'm a raving lunatic. Hell maybe I am. But I'm a raving lunatic who doesn't think I'm any better than another raving lunatic who didn't happen to go to school.