Go watch
this video,
it's funny.
1 day ago
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
Another Reason Not to Live in the UK.
Read this, and tell me one good purpose it serves. Apparently, in the UK, there is such a backlog of court cases that the penalty for several serious offenses ranging from burglary to sex with children has been reduced to sending these assholes home with a caution. This means they have a criminal record, but don't have to worry about, oh, say, the consequences of committing those crimes, like a fine, community service or jail. So what's the fucking point of saying, "Don't do that again!"? I can just hear it now. "Or what? You'll tell me to not do it again again? (ooo! I'm shaking in my boots!" Can the UK go to hell in a handbasket any faster?
Friday, May 26, 2006
Things Get Naked. Tale Of Toronto Cont'd
So after finishing up at Murphy's Law and leaving noticeable vacancies on the wall, we decided it was time to move on. Aaron's eye was beginning to swell shut but the trooper swore he was still good to go. You gotta love guys with heart.
We headed out to the limo and told the driver he could starting making his way back towards Oshawa but we would make a stop or two more along the way. We weren't sure where yet. Leave it to Melissa to come up with the best idea. "STRIP CLUB!" were her exact words out of nowhere. No one argued and we went to some place that I was too piss tanked to remember the name of. It was fairly seedy to say the least.
So we went in and the place was basically empty save for a couple guys playing pool and 2 other guys at a table on the far side of the bar. We sat down for a bit with another beer to take in the entertainment. While one girl was dancing, another one of the girls came over to talk to us. She sat there for a quite a while clapping for the other dancers and making general conversation. Then she asks an interesting question that we all pondered for a bit.
"Do you think it's weird for a guy to want to come and watch his fiance do this for a living?" We all thought that was pretty weird and all agreed that none of us would wanna see our loved ones dancing for someone else. Perhaps shallow on our part, but seemed to be the consensus. She then caught us off gaurd by saying "See, I think so too - but yet there's my fiance, just like every other night." and pointed to a guy at another table. He looked.... creepy. but different strokes for different folks I guess.
Eventually 2 of my friends went outside with her to have a smoke and her boyfriend of coarse followed. They said afterwards that he seemed like a nice guy - just kinda protective. But they smoked and chatted and my friends congratulated them (I guess) on their engagement.
Meanwhile inside Aaron narrowly avoided another fight after looking at a pool player dude's girl the wrong way I guess. But things were quickly calmed down when one of the other guys with us quickly said "this guy's already gotten his ass kicked once tonight, he doesn't need it again" and the guys just kinda laughed and all was forgotten.
After chatting with the odd stripper couple and the menacing pool players a bit longer we piled back in the limo and headed back to Oshawa. We all ended up at Aaron's parents place first, being what drunk people think is "quiet" and doing shots of very dirty whiskey. 2 people ended up throwing up outside. Not bad out of 8. A few headed back to my parents place with me and the rest crashed at Aaron's, not before 3 tried to get high in Chris' car in my parents driveway and having that end with one throwing up right in the middle of the driveway out his car door.
the next morning we all went back to Aaron's parents place where his mom made breakfast that not many people felt up for eating. Aaron, in his drunken stooper had forgotten to hide the pictures that we stole so his mother asked him where they came from. He quickly and swiftly answered "We won them at this cool pub.". He seemed quite proud of himself and we were all impressed with the quick wit. But it didn't last long as his mom followed up with "Oh ya? That's cool. You usually don't see bars giving away pictures with nails still stick in them and drywall all over the back.". We all just laughed. No sense in trying to climb out of it. But she didn't care.
The following night was embarassing. As I forgot to mention earlier that 2 people who came on the trip are in the television program at our college and have nice video cameras and we had forgotten that from time to time they were powered up and some of the stupider moments were caught on tape. No one likes watching themself drunk. But we all did. We sat in shock and awe silently through the whole tape, no one wanting to comment on anyone elses supidity cuz no one knew when their own stupid comment was coming up next. When it was all over, instead of trying to never speak of it again, Chris broke the tention with something we all agreed on. "Fuck, guys. We're doin' this every year!"
We headed out to the limo and told the driver he could starting making his way back towards Oshawa but we would make a stop or two more along the way. We weren't sure where yet. Leave it to Melissa to come up with the best idea. "STRIP CLUB!" were her exact words out of nowhere. No one argued and we went to some place that I was too piss tanked to remember the name of. It was fairly seedy to say the least.
So we went in and the place was basically empty save for a couple guys playing pool and 2 other guys at a table on the far side of the bar. We sat down for a bit with another beer to take in the entertainment. While one girl was dancing, another one of the girls came over to talk to us. She sat there for a quite a while clapping for the other dancers and making general conversation. Then she asks an interesting question that we all pondered for a bit.
"Do you think it's weird for a guy to want to come and watch his fiance do this for a living?" We all thought that was pretty weird and all agreed that none of us would wanna see our loved ones dancing for someone else. Perhaps shallow on our part, but seemed to be the consensus. She then caught us off gaurd by saying "See, I think so too - but yet there's my fiance, just like every other night." and pointed to a guy at another table. He looked.... creepy. but different strokes for different folks I guess.
Eventually 2 of my friends went outside with her to have a smoke and her boyfriend of coarse followed. They said afterwards that he seemed like a nice guy - just kinda protective. But they smoked and chatted and my friends congratulated them (I guess) on their engagement.
Meanwhile inside Aaron narrowly avoided another fight after looking at a pool player dude's girl the wrong way I guess. But things were quickly calmed down when one of the other guys with us quickly said "this guy's already gotten his ass kicked once tonight, he doesn't need it again" and the guys just kinda laughed and all was forgotten.
After chatting with the odd stripper couple and the menacing pool players a bit longer we piled back in the limo and headed back to Oshawa. We all ended up at Aaron's parents place first, being what drunk people think is "quiet" and doing shots of very dirty whiskey. 2 people ended up throwing up outside. Not bad out of 8. A few headed back to my parents place with me and the rest crashed at Aaron's, not before 3 tried to get high in Chris' car in my parents driveway and having that end with one throwing up right in the middle of the driveway out his car door.
the next morning we all went back to Aaron's parents place where his mom made breakfast that not many people felt up for eating. Aaron, in his drunken stooper had forgotten to hide the pictures that we stole so his mother asked him where they came from. He quickly and swiftly answered "We won them at this cool pub.". He seemed quite proud of himself and we were all impressed with the quick wit. But it didn't last long as his mom followed up with "Oh ya? That's cool. You usually don't see bars giving away pictures with nails still stick in them and drywall all over the back.". We all just laughed. No sense in trying to climb out of it. But she didn't care.
The following night was embarassing. As I forgot to mention earlier that 2 people who came on the trip are in the television program at our college and have nice video cameras and we had forgotten that from time to time they were powered up and some of the stupider moments were caught on tape. No one likes watching themself drunk. But we all did. We sat in shock and awe silently through the whole tape, no one wanting to comment on anyone elses supidity cuz no one knew when their own stupid comment was coming up next. When it was all over, instead of trying to never speak of it again, Chris broke the tention with something we all agreed on. "Fuck, guys. We're doin' this every year!"
One More Mountain to Climb? Or Maybe Not.
I heard this on the news and it sorta pissed me off. I can't believe this is causing an ethical debate.
The story goes like this. People train to climb Mount Everest every year. They know that if they don't do it just right, there's a high probability they won't make it down. Some people can't make it to the top because the oxygen is too thin and if they did, they would die. There is a specific area on the mountain near the top that is called the death zone. This is because, duh, a lot of people die and are found here. They have reached the top, and die on their way back down. This becomes important later.
This season, among the climbers who reached the top and came back down was the first amputee to reach the top. On his way back down, as he passed through the death zone, he saw a man dying. He was not the only one to see this. But he didn't stop to help. This is not really horrible. Remember that this is the death zone. If you were low on oxygen, you knew that this was the death zone, and you saw a man dying, would you risk your own life to save him? Honestly? Would you? I don't think so. You can say you would, but I think you would know that when it came down to it, you would have to face the reality that in the end, if you tried to save him, there would be two climbers dead in the death zone where there once was one.
Now that this guy has come back alive, there's a whole bunch of climbers bagging on him and the other climbers who saw the dying guy for not saving him. Ok, first of all, how dare they bag on the amputee for not saving someone else? It's a miracle he got *himself* up the mountain. What do these people want?
Even Sir Edmund Hillary, who sounds like he's heading for a death zone of his own, was standing up there bellowing, "He's a human being! How could you leave him up there?" Ok, I don't know my Sir Edmund Hillary facts well. If he made a point of saving other climbers when he "conquered" Mount Everest, then I'll eat my words. But I don't know if, when he was standing up at the top of the mountain, knowing that he only had so long to get down or he would run out of oxygen, he would have saved a dying human being. He may be a human being, but so are the rest of the climbers. They can only do what they can do.
Have you ever heard a firefighter or someone else who's trained in rescuing people say that if you're going in there to save someone who's dying and you don't know what you're doing, you could potentially kill yourself too, and then we're worse off than when there was one guy in danger? That's common sense. I can't understand why people even want to make this into an issue. But I guess everyone can philosophize and criticize when they have lots of oxygen to breathe and they're not in the death zone.
The story goes like this. People train to climb Mount Everest every year. They know that if they don't do it just right, there's a high probability they won't make it down. Some people can't make it to the top because the oxygen is too thin and if they did, they would die. There is a specific area on the mountain near the top that is called the death zone. This is because, duh, a lot of people die and are found here. They have reached the top, and die on their way back down. This becomes important later.
This season, among the climbers who reached the top and came back down was the first amputee to reach the top. On his way back down, as he passed through the death zone, he saw a man dying. He was not the only one to see this. But he didn't stop to help. This is not really horrible. Remember that this is the death zone. If you were low on oxygen, you knew that this was the death zone, and you saw a man dying, would you risk your own life to save him? Honestly? Would you? I don't think so. You can say you would, but I think you would know that when it came down to it, you would have to face the reality that in the end, if you tried to save him, there would be two climbers dead in the death zone where there once was one.
Now that this guy has come back alive, there's a whole bunch of climbers bagging on him and the other climbers who saw the dying guy for not saving him. Ok, first of all, how dare they bag on the amputee for not saving someone else? It's a miracle he got *himself* up the mountain. What do these people want?
Even Sir Edmund Hillary, who sounds like he's heading for a death zone of his own, was standing up there bellowing, "He's a human being! How could you leave him up there?" Ok, I don't know my Sir Edmund Hillary facts well. If he made a point of saving other climbers when he "conquered" Mount Everest, then I'll eat my words. But I don't know if, when he was standing up at the top of the mountain, knowing that he only had so long to get down or he would run out of oxygen, he would have saved a dying human being. He may be a human being, but so are the rest of the climbers. They can only do what they can do.
Have you ever heard a firefighter or someone else who's trained in rescuing people say that if you're going in there to save someone who's dying and you don't know what you're doing, you could potentially kill yourself too, and then we're worse off than when there was one guy in danger? That's common sense. I can't understand why people even want to make this into an issue. But I guess everyone can philosophize and criticize when they have lots of oxygen to breathe and they're not in the death zone.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Tough Call
I just read a story about a bill that was recently introduced in Parliament that would make it a separate crime to do harm to an unborn child in cases where a pregnant woman is either assaulted or murdered.
The idea obviously has its critics among pro-choice advocates who see it as something that, if passed, could have a lot of implications on the abortion rights debate in Canada. But Leon Benoit, the Alberta Conservative responsible for the proposed legislation, says that it's not intended as an abortion bill and that it would only apply in cases where a woman who has chosen to keep her baby is harmed.
That's all fine and good, but I'm still curious about something. What happens if a woman is murdered on her way to an abortion clinic? Can they still tack a few more years on to the end of somebody's prison sentence for taking the life of a baby that was about to have its life taken legally anyway?
Just a little something to think about.
The idea obviously has its critics among pro-choice advocates who see it as something that, if passed, could have a lot of implications on the abortion rights debate in Canada. But Leon Benoit, the Alberta Conservative responsible for the proposed legislation, says that it's not intended as an abortion bill and that it would only apply in cases where a woman who has chosen to keep her baby is harmed.
That's all fine and good, but I'm still curious about something. What happens if a woman is murdered on her way to an abortion clinic? Can they still tack a few more years on to the end of somebody's prison sentence for taking the life of a baby that was about to have its life taken legally anyway?
Just a little something to think about.
My Thursday 13
Before I start, a couple quick things.
We had a complaint on the boards earlier about our choice of topic for the week, so I want to quickly address that. Will the topics always be negative? I have no idea. Planning ahead has never been one of those things that we're overly good at. But it's worth pointing out that none of us are forcing you to read anything we write. If you don't like a post, feel free to stop reading it and skip ahead to the next one. And if ever there comes a time when you find yourself skipping more stuff than you actually read, by all means, feel free to stop coming here. If you went to a restaurant 3 times and got shitty service and bad food during every visit, I'm sure you probably wouldn't be in any sort of huge hurry to go back. So why should this, or any other website, be any different? People have stopped reading us before, but we're still here. It happens. People change, and their ideas about what's funny or interesting or worthwhile change right along with them. Sometimes that means that we just don't fit into their plans anymore, and that's ok with us. We don't spend a whole lot of time getting broken up over it. Bottom line: If you find yourself disagreeing with something that one of us has said and you've got a good reason for it, please, let us know. Constructive debate is fun, and it's lead to a lot of interesting discussions and posts here over the years. But if you outright hate something that we're probably not going to change any time soon and don't have any sort of reasoning for your feelings beyond "eeewww, I don't like it, you guys smell," use some of that free will stuff and move along to something that's more your style.
I'd also like to take a second to thank Matt for all the love. And by the way dude, I'm still waiting for you to show your face at one of these infights. If you had any sack, we would have settled this by now.
And speaking of sack...
13 PEOPLE WHO NEED A GOOD KICK IN THE NUTS
Just like when Matt and Carin did it, these are in no particular order.
1. Drivers who decide that even though the right of way is mine and I've started walking that they're just gonna head on through anyway and I guess hope for the best.
2. Chatty assholes who feel the need to distract me while I'm trying to work. I
covered this a long time ago,
go read it, it's fun.
3. People in broadcasting who can't read or talk. Anybody who's ever listened to any of my shows knows that sometimes I have trouble with both, but who doesn't? I'm not talking about me though, I'm talking about serious chronic repeat offenders here. People like the woman who anchors my local news on the weekends a lot of the time. She sucks. I remember a time when she was reading a story on the dangers of certain types of insulation and she came out with this gem. "To ensure that there is no danger in your home, be sure to check your addict for ass-pest-tose." Ok, so for the sake of my safety, I need to be on the lookout for a guy sucking on a crack pipe who's got a needle in his arm and insulation falling out his ass. got it...I think, at least I do if ever I learn what ass-pest-tose is. It probably wouldn't have pissed me off nearly so much if I hadn't have sat there listening to her over-annunciate and mispronounce everything for a good 20 minutes before that, but then again maybe it would have, who's to say? Well ok, I am, because it probably would have. These words aren't all that hard. At least when I trip up, it's usually on somebody's long ass foreign name that there's no way anybody other than him has any chance of getting even half way right. We're talking about attic and asbestos here. They're common words, and it's not unthinkable to expect somebody who talks for a living to know them and get them right.
4. News reporters who stand next to somebody who's home has just been destroyed by a fire or something and feel it necessary to ask a question along the lines of "so, your house and everything in it has been taken away from you and your lives are obviously in turmoil. How are you folks feeling right about now?" That's just cruel. It's kind of like asking a homeless guy out on a date and saying "so, your place or...oh yeah, never mind."
5. TV evangelists, for no other reason than that they are TV evangelists. Come on, what more reason do you need?
6. Some of those religious people who try to hand you books and talk to you about Christ while you're trying to get somewhere. I remember years ago when I lived in Brantford, I actually had one of these guys step in my way on the street after I said I didn't want to talk and tried to keep walking. That by itself is bad enough, but then he looked me dead in the face and said "you know, if you and your parents had accepted the lord and saviour Jesus Christ into your lives, maybe you wouldn't be where you are right now," obviously a shot at the fact that I was blind. The best response I could manage short of knocking him the fuck out or maybe kicking him in the nuts was simply "fuck off," after which I stepped around him and kept walking. But I never forgot about that guy, and he's one of the reasons why I have such a low opinion of organized religion.
7. Music fans who suddenly start to hate their favourite band as soon as that band gets even a tiny bit famous. If they get famous by changing their style to something totally different and completely crappy, then go ahead, hate them until you run out of hate, you'll hear no complaints from me. But if they've managed to get famous through hard work while staying true to what they are, why hate them unless you're not really a music fan at all, but more a fan of looking like you know something that a lot of people don't? Newsflash: it doesn't make you cool, and nobody cares. Lighten up, and be sure to enjoy the music.
8. Simon Cowell. He's not constructive, he's not intimidating, he's not even funny. All he is is a gimmick, and not even a good one. whenever I see an Idol commercial or happen upon a conversation during which somebody says "what will Simon think?" it's more than enough to make me not only want to kick the man in the nuts, but then proceed to stomp them into scrotum jello.
9. PC douche nozels who get offended on behalf of other people. Seriously, cut that shit out. Everybody has their own set of standards, and all of us are more than capable of figuring out when we should be upset. We don't need you to help us out, so feel free to go do something useful with your time, like maybe run in front of a bus.
10. Those flaming ass magnets who have it in their heads that I have nothing better to do than take their phone calls at 2 in the morning on a week night, or even on a weekend for that matter. I have trouble sleeping sometimes, but that doesn't mean I don't need to or never try.
11. People who ask a question and then pay no attention to the answer. I can't count the number of times that somebody has sent me an email in the morning that includes something like "so, what have you got going on today," to which I'll reply and list a half million different things I need or want to do. I send it off, and not 5 minutes later, the phone will ring, and 9 times out of 10 it'll be the same person I just sent the email to, calling for no better reason than because they just wanna chat. Then to top it all off, these stupid imbeciles have the nerve to act hurt when I say I don't have time to talk right now because I'm busy. I should mention that every time this happens, and I'm talking without fucking fail here, when I ask, every single one of them says that yes, they got my message a minute ago. Sorry partner, but if you don't respect me enough to listen to what it is I'm actually saying, then I give less than a fuck that I made you feel bad. It wasn't even me who made you feel bad, you did it, and it's not my problem. Now get off my phone, I've got shit to do. If you don't' believe me, go check your goddamn email. And here's an idea, maybe try actually reading the shit for once. Ok, that one kinda got away from me there, let's move on.
12. Everyone who thinks that if they call me as many times as they can in as short a timeframe as possible, that I'll suddenly materialize and pick up the phone. Or as I like to call them, many of the people I know.
We've been down this road before, but I think it's worth going down again.
13. People who buy things from spam. Stop that! You're ruining the internet for all of us, you pricks.
13 and a half. Lou Dobbs. He kinda bugs me and
Thordora
says she hates him, so he's in.
That was fun, and I'm much happier than I was when I woke up this morning.
I'll be back later, but I'm not sure if it'll be with something positive or negative. So stay tuned unless uncertainty frightens you.
We had a complaint on the boards earlier about our choice of topic for the week, so I want to quickly address that. Will the topics always be negative? I have no idea. Planning ahead has never been one of those things that we're overly good at. But it's worth pointing out that none of us are forcing you to read anything we write. If you don't like a post, feel free to stop reading it and skip ahead to the next one. And if ever there comes a time when you find yourself skipping more stuff than you actually read, by all means, feel free to stop coming here. If you went to a restaurant 3 times and got shitty service and bad food during every visit, I'm sure you probably wouldn't be in any sort of huge hurry to go back. So why should this, or any other website, be any different? People have stopped reading us before, but we're still here. It happens. People change, and their ideas about what's funny or interesting or worthwhile change right along with them. Sometimes that means that we just don't fit into their plans anymore, and that's ok with us. We don't spend a whole lot of time getting broken up over it. Bottom line: If you find yourself disagreeing with something that one of us has said and you've got a good reason for it, please, let us know. Constructive debate is fun, and it's lead to a lot of interesting discussions and posts here over the years. But if you outright hate something that we're probably not going to change any time soon and don't have any sort of reasoning for your feelings beyond "eeewww, I don't like it, you guys smell," use some of that free will stuff and move along to something that's more your style.
I'd also like to take a second to thank Matt for all the love. And by the way dude, I'm still waiting for you to show your face at one of these infights. If you had any sack, we would have settled this by now.
And speaking of sack...
13 PEOPLE WHO NEED A GOOD KICK IN THE NUTS
Just like when Matt and Carin did it, these are in no particular order.
1. Drivers who decide that even though the right of way is mine and I've started walking that they're just gonna head on through anyway and I guess hope for the best.
2. Chatty assholes who feel the need to distract me while I'm trying to work. I
covered this a long time ago,
go read it, it's fun.
3. People in broadcasting who can't read or talk. Anybody who's ever listened to any of my shows knows that sometimes I have trouble with both, but who doesn't? I'm not talking about me though, I'm talking about serious chronic repeat offenders here. People like the woman who anchors my local news on the weekends a lot of the time. She sucks. I remember a time when she was reading a story on the dangers of certain types of insulation and she came out with this gem. "To ensure that there is no danger in your home, be sure to check your addict for ass-pest-tose." Ok, so for the sake of my safety, I need to be on the lookout for a guy sucking on a crack pipe who's got a needle in his arm and insulation falling out his ass. got it...I think, at least I do if ever I learn what ass-pest-tose is. It probably wouldn't have pissed me off nearly so much if I hadn't have sat there listening to her over-annunciate and mispronounce everything for a good 20 minutes before that, but then again maybe it would have, who's to say? Well ok, I am, because it probably would have. These words aren't all that hard. At least when I trip up, it's usually on somebody's long ass foreign name that there's no way anybody other than him has any chance of getting even half way right. We're talking about attic and asbestos here. They're common words, and it's not unthinkable to expect somebody who talks for a living to know them and get them right.
4. News reporters who stand next to somebody who's home has just been destroyed by a fire or something and feel it necessary to ask a question along the lines of "so, your house and everything in it has been taken away from you and your lives are obviously in turmoil. How are you folks feeling right about now?" That's just cruel. It's kind of like asking a homeless guy out on a date and saying "so, your place or...oh yeah, never mind."
5. TV evangelists, for no other reason than that they are TV evangelists. Come on, what more reason do you need?
6. Some of those religious people who try to hand you books and talk to you about Christ while you're trying to get somewhere. I remember years ago when I lived in Brantford, I actually had one of these guys step in my way on the street after I said I didn't want to talk and tried to keep walking. That by itself is bad enough, but then he looked me dead in the face and said "you know, if you and your parents had accepted the lord and saviour Jesus Christ into your lives, maybe you wouldn't be where you are right now," obviously a shot at the fact that I was blind. The best response I could manage short of knocking him the fuck out or maybe kicking him in the nuts was simply "fuck off," after which I stepped around him and kept walking. But I never forgot about that guy, and he's one of the reasons why I have such a low opinion of organized religion.
7. Music fans who suddenly start to hate their favourite band as soon as that band gets even a tiny bit famous. If they get famous by changing their style to something totally different and completely crappy, then go ahead, hate them until you run out of hate, you'll hear no complaints from me. But if they've managed to get famous through hard work while staying true to what they are, why hate them unless you're not really a music fan at all, but more a fan of looking like you know something that a lot of people don't? Newsflash: it doesn't make you cool, and nobody cares. Lighten up, and be sure to enjoy the music.
8. Simon Cowell. He's not constructive, he's not intimidating, he's not even funny. All he is is a gimmick, and not even a good one. whenever I see an Idol commercial or happen upon a conversation during which somebody says "what will Simon think?" it's more than enough to make me not only want to kick the man in the nuts, but then proceed to stomp them into scrotum jello.
9. PC douche nozels who get offended on behalf of other people. Seriously, cut that shit out. Everybody has their own set of standards, and all of us are more than capable of figuring out when we should be upset. We don't need you to help us out, so feel free to go do something useful with your time, like maybe run in front of a bus.
10. Those flaming ass magnets who have it in their heads that I have nothing better to do than take their phone calls at 2 in the morning on a week night, or even on a weekend for that matter. I have trouble sleeping sometimes, but that doesn't mean I don't need to or never try.
11. People who ask a question and then pay no attention to the answer. I can't count the number of times that somebody has sent me an email in the morning that includes something like "so, what have you got going on today," to which I'll reply and list a half million different things I need or want to do. I send it off, and not 5 minutes later, the phone will ring, and 9 times out of 10 it'll be the same person I just sent the email to, calling for no better reason than because they just wanna chat. Then to top it all off, these stupid imbeciles have the nerve to act hurt when I say I don't have time to talk right now because I'm busy. I should mention that every time this happens, and I'm talking without fucking fail here, when I ask, every single one of them says that yes, they got my message a minute ago. Sorry partner, but if you don't respect me enough to listen to what it is I'm actually saying, then I give less than a fuck that I made you feel bad. It wasn't even me who made you feel bad, you did it, and it's not my problem. Now get off my phone, I've got shit to do. If you don't' believe me, go check your goddamn email. And here's an idea, maybe try actually reading the shit for once. Ok, that one kinda got away from me there, let's move on.
12. Everyone who thinks that if they call me as many times as they can in as short a timeframe as possible, that I'll suddenly materialize and pick up the phone. Or as I like to call them, many of the people I know.
We've been down this road before, but I think it's worth going down again.
13. People who buy things from spam. Stop that! You're ruining the internet for all of us, you pricks.
13 and a half. Lou Dobbs. He kinda bugs me and
Thordora
says she hates him, so he's in.
That was fun, and I'm much happier than I was when I woke up this morning.
I'll be back later, but I'm not sure if it'll be with something positive or negative. So stay tuned unless uncertainty frightens you.
My Unlucky Thursday Thirteen
Before I start talking about who should get hoofed in the bag, I have good news. We have our miracle apartment! We just have to sign a few papers and hand over a bit more money and it's ours! Now, back to kicks ahoy!
These can be people, or groups of people. Aren't I generous?
And like that, I'm done. Now I have to run for the bus, hopefully they know where to drop me off.
These can be people, or groups of people. Aren't I generous?
- Nosey people on the street. I do some volunteer work where I go with a lady who's a bit developmentally delayed to the Y. Frankly, I forget she's a little slow because she's hillarious and it's not like I'm having to tell her what to do all the time or anything. hell she's getting us into the Y and finding stuff and setting the weights so it's not an issue. But people who we barely know or don't even know actually walk up to us and have the nerve to ask, "So...who's helping who?" I'm helping you get a kick in the nuts. Is it any of their business who's getting help and who isn't?
- Chatterboxes on the street. I'll be crossing a busy street that buses go down, and someone will run up to me while I'm crossing and want me to *stop* right there so we can have a jolly good chat. They don't want to join me and walk across with me. No no no. Knowing that after the hand starts flashing, we only have 10 seconds before cars and city buses are going to speed through, they just have to tell you all about their week. How about letting me live to see the next week?
- My neighbours. But I think I've explained that enough.
- Creepy stalker people. I haven't known them their whole lives, maybe they already have received a few good kicks in the nuts because of the way they act. There's this one guy who, while Steve and I were together, was always simultaneously jealous and wanting to know what we were doing every fucking minute of the day. Then, when we broke up, he suddenly was calling me a lot more, and still wanted to know where I was every fucking minute of the day. Now that we're back together, he doesn't call anymore, and I can't say I'm sad to see him go. Weirdo! The scary part is, he's not the only one. When will these guys learn that usually we can see through their phony interest in girls for what it really is? Guys! Give up on me dropping everything to be with you just because you're suddenly filling my life with yourselves!
- People who phone me several times late at night and when I finally pick up and sound a little sleepy, wonder how much I've had to drink. Although several people don't seem to have a functioning clock in their house, there's only been one guy who's actually had the balls to wonder if I was drunk at 4 in the morning when he called. This question got asked *after* I told him never to call me that late again because I'm trying to sleep.
- Chatty people in a place where I answer a distress line. Seriously, your busy night does not need to be projected to me at a louder volume than what I'm supposed to be listening to, I.E. a distress call.
- People who cry that they're sick of being judged to soon, while in the same breath, they judge other people as unsuitable friends because they look a certain way or are of a certain race. At this point, I want to say to them, "You get what you deserve." Oh, and I want to give them a kick in the nuts, but well...that's why they're on this list anyway.
- People who drive for a living who don't know where they're going. Steve and I have both talked about how much that bugs us before.
- People who enjoy making themselves feel better by making others feel worse. After reading this, need I say more?
- People who write you emails, you respond, and after two weeks, they respond with "Now what were we talking about?"
- Parents who don't let their kids ask me questions about being blind. Yeah, teaching them to live in fear of the unknown is a fine way to raise your kid.
- Other blind people who make people afraid to ask questions. Yeah, making people afraid to learn about us is a fine way to perpetuate ignorance.
- People who think they're a cut above other people because of what letters are behind their name. Listen, prick, the brick layer or the plumber could teach you a lot.
And like that, I'm done. Now I have to run for the bus, hopefully they know where to drop me off.
Thursday 13
So let's start something new here that hopefully will last at least 3 weeks! Thursday 13's. All the loser kids are doin' it - and lord knows we fit in to that category. So this week's topic is...
13 People That Deserve A Solid Kick To The Nuts
These are in no particular order.
1. Steve. Ok. we all saw that coming.
2. Anybody not enjoying my story about our night in Toronto
3. Bryan Adams. STOP SINGING!
4. Lisa Kudrow. she just irritates the piss out of me.
5. Daniel Alfredsson. Obvious reasons.
6. 50 Cent. No one cares how many times you got shot and survived - but I'd like to be the guy to see if he can handle one more.
7. Any member of Oasis.
8. Greg Millen of Hockey Night In Canada - put the telestrator AWAY! I don't need littlelines on every replay showing me where the guy should have skated.
9. Ashton Kutcher - just go away. Your 15 minutes are over.
10. Jeff Foxworthy - used to love the guy... but it's just not funny anymore.
11. All members of Coldplay. IT'S NOT ROCK! IT'S NOT GOOD! (not to say rock is all that's good, but good lord stop calling these guys rock.)
12. Ryan Seacrest. 'Nuff said.
13. Steve. What? he's really that annoying!
13 People That Deserve A Solid Kick To The Nuts
These are in no particular order.
1. Steve. Ok. we all saw that coming.
2. Anybody not enjoying my story about our night in Toronto
3. Bryan Adams. STOP SINGING!
4. Lisa Kudrow. she just irritates the piss out of me.
5. Daniel Alfredsson. Obvious reasons.
6. 50 Cent. No one cares how many times you got shot and survived - but I'd like to be the guy to see if he can handle one more.
7. Any member of Oasis.
8. Greg Millen of Hockey Night In Canada - put the telestrator AWAY! I don't need littlelines on every replay showing me where the guy should have skated.
9. Ashton Kutcher - just go away. Your 15 minutes are over.
10. Jeff Foxworthy - used to love the guy... but it's just not funny anymore.
11. All members of Coldplay. IT'S NOT ROCK! IT'S NOT GOOD! (not to say rock is all that's good, but good lord stop calling these guys rock.)
12. Ryan Seacrest. 'Nuff said.
13. Steve. What? he's really that annoying!
In Chapter 3 We're Reduced To Petty Vandalism. Story Cont'd
OK, OK, so I buggered off yesterday and never finished the story. I'm sure you weren't that torn apart by it.
When last we visited with our friends, we were meeting up with our prematurely evacuated friends outside the Dome.
So we all piled back in to our limo where we tied back in to the beers we had brought with us - at this point in the evenign the fact that they were warm would not have dampened our spirits. We were certainly not ready to call it a night. It was only 10:30, we had a limo and in were in downtown T.O. having the time of our lives. So we asked the driver for a good bar for food and cheer. He suggested this place that I would recommend to all of you if you're ever in town. Murphy's Law. It's a pub not too far from the Rogers Centre that has all kinds of great European beers and your typical Canadian ones. My buddy's and I had been hankering for a Tennants. It's a Scottish beer that I had got them hooked on in Waterloo back in the fall. It's awesome.
So we went in and there was like a side little room right beside the front door for like 10 people that we quickly took over. We ordered up a couple hundred wings and several pitchers and went to work. The wings didn't last long and thep itchers were coming pretty quickly when my buddy Shane noticed an awesome sign that he thought would look great in our house in Belleville. Was a nicely framed Guinness sign. He tapped on the side of it to see if it was just on one nail and would swing or was stuck right to the wall. Unfortunately, it was stuck right in to the wood wall. We continued to share some laughs when Aaron returned to the room from the bathroom and said "Wow, sweet sign!". Appanrelty still filled with aggression, he walked over and, seemingly effortlessly, tore it off the wall. He stood therein amazement with the sign in his hand and said "Whoa!". There were still 6 nails in the back and pieces of wood and drywall stuck to those. He quickly pulled it down behind a chair and askedme to run interferance.
Just outside the door to the little room to the left was the door to outside, but to the right was all the tables and bar and such. He just wanted me to make sure no one was coming and block view of him as he went out the door to the limo witht he sign. So I walked out first and almost ran right in to a waiter coming in. The only thing I could think to do was put my arm around him and spin him around and walk away from the room and ask him some stupid question about the bar that I can't even remember now. He just laughed and wasn't suspicious since I was clearly wasted. Aaron got out successfully and the sign was put in the car. Our driver just shook his head.
I was back in the room when Aaron came back in and without saying a word or hesitating for a second he walked over and just tore another sign clean off the wall. Unfortunately when he went to pull it down to his side he knocked a glass over and it shattered. This of course brought waiters running to clean it up. He quickly put it on the floor behind him against the wall and leaned against it while my buddy George stood half in front of him trying to be all apologetic to keep the focus on the spilled beer. They cleaned up and as they walked out, Aaron actually used THEM as cover to walk out with the other sign.
We all finished out beers and when we went to leave we noticed 2 spots on the wall far brighter than the rest of the wall where the pictures had hung and where the paint hadn't faded from the light. We thought it was pretty funny and left a note in one of the spots that said "Belleville was here."
Well that's good for now I guess. The next chapter has nakedness and an awesome incident with our new found signs. Stay tuned.
When last we visited with our friends, we were meeting up with our prematurely evacuated friends outside the Dome.
So we all piled back in to our limo where we tied back in to the beers we had brought with us - at this point in the evenign the fact that they were warm would not have dampened our spirits. We were certainly not ready to call it a night. It was only 10:30, we had a limo and in were in downtown T.O. having the time of our lives. So we asked the driver for a good bar for food and cheer. He suggested this place that I would recommend to all of you if you're ever in town. Murphy's Law. It's a pub not too far from the Rogers Centre that has all kinds of great European beers and your typical Canadian ones. My buddy's and I had been hankering for a Tennants. It's a Scottish beer that I had got them hooked on in Waterloo back in the fall. It's awesome.
So we went in and there was like a side little room right beside the front door for like 10 people that we quickly took over. We ordered up a couple hundred wings and several pitchers and went to work. The wings didn't last long and thep itchers were coming pretty quickly when my buddy Shane noticed an awesome sign that he thought would look great in our house in Belleville. Was a nicely framed Guinness sign. He tapped on the side of it to see if it was just on one nail and would swing or was stuck right to the wall. Unfortunately, it was stuck right in to the wood wall. We continued to share some laughs when Aaron returned to the room from the bathroom and said "Wow, sweet sign!". Appanrelty still filled with aggression, he walked over and, seemingly effortlessly, tore it off the wall. He stood therein amazement with the sign in his hand and said "Whoa!". There were still 6 nails in the back and pieces of wood and drywall stuck to those. He quickly pulled it down behind a chair and askedme to run interferance.
Just outside the door to the little room to the left was the door to outside, but to the right was all the tables and bar and such. He just wanted me to make sure no one was coming and block view of him as he went out the door to the limo witht he sign. So I walked out first and almost ran right in to a waiter coming in. The only thing I could think to do was put my arm around him and spin him around and walk away from the room and ask him some stupid question about the bar that I can't even remember now. He just laughed and wasn't suspicious since I was clearly wasted. Aaron got out successfully and the sign was put in the car. Our driver just shook his head.
I was back in the room when Aaron came back in and without saying a word or hesitating for a second he walked over and just tore another sign clean off the wall. Unfortunately when he went to pull it down to his side he knocked a glass over and it shattered. This of course brought waiters running to clean it up. He quickly put it on the floor behind him against the wall and leaned against it while my buddy George stood half in front of him trying to be all apologetic to keep the focus on the spilled beer. They cleaned up and as they walked out, Aaron actually used THEM as cover to walk out with the other sign.
We all finished out beers and when we went to leave we noticed 2 spots on the wall far brighter than the rest of the wall where the pictures had hung and where the paint hadn't faded from the light. We thought it was pretty funny and left a note in one of the spots that said "Belleville was here."
Well that's good for now I guess. The next chapter has nakedness and an awesome incident with our new found signs. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Fun In Toronto (Cont'd)
When last we left our heroes, they were entering the Rogers Centre in Toronto for the Blue Jays home opener... and heavily intoxicated.
So we were pushing it for time when we arrived and by the time we got to the 5th deck it was pretty loud in the buiding but we couldn't go to our seats without stopping to grab another beer. Which we gladly did. We got there in time to see the National Anthem and Tom Cheak's wife (Tom having recently passed away from a fight with cancer) throw out the ceremonial first pitch - receiving a stnading ovation.
The tone was set early as we began chanting right away afterwards for the Jays and a woman asked my friend "Are you planning to be this loud through the entire game?" to which he gave the only honest answer he could "Probably, yes." We soon learned we were in the wrong seats and were 2 rows ahead of where we were supposed to be. The people who's seats we were in were not to kind about resolving the situation as we were more than willing to move - just apparently not quick enough for them. Keep these people in mind. They play heavily in to the story later.
So we moved up 2 rows and continued our party. We were surround by many people our age who we talked to and generally had a good time with. The beers continued to flow and the evening was going perfectly... Until.
My buddy, Aaron, the friendly fellow that he is decided to shwo some love to the crowd that we were talking to. He just randomly started pointing at people in the crowd and saying "I like this guy." Ya it was stupid and he was drunk but people were liking him back and there were no real issues. He continued this for a while until he pointed to the lead dick that had been so rude in asking us to move 2 rows in from of us - and then said "but not this guy." and just laughed, as did most of the section and a couple of this guy's buddy's. Unfortunately... he didn't laugh.
He jumped out of his seat and spun around and in the most faked gangster voice you could possibly imagine yelled "What the fuck you say, bitch?". Aaron just laughed thinking the guy was kidding around. Apparently laughing at him wasn't what this guy wanted as he went to the aisle and started heading up to our row. He came down it and started getting in Aaron's face so obviously we all stood up to make sure things weren't gonna get out of hand. He tried to tell him that he was just kidding around and everything was cool until... out of nowhere... this guy HEAD BUTTS my buddy! he head butts him? Who does that?
So Aaron shoved him and fists started flying and his buddy's and us all jumped in and the thing was gettin' out of hand. My friend Melissa who is no more than 115lbs (totally wasted like the rest of us) starts trying to get involved and punching this guy in the back. It was all starting to get calmed down until this point when the guy turned around and nailed her with an elbow and we all lost it again and it all blew up in to another fight. Eventually some under cover cops in the crowd and SkyDome security came and broke it up and took the guy who came to our row down for questionning. A few minutes later they came back up and said they wanted to talk to Aaron, and a few minutes after that my friend Chris who had been the first guy to jump in after the headbutt.
Some time went by and I eventually just barely heard my phone ring, I answered it, barely able to hear anything over the crowd. It was Aaron. "Ya ... uhh... we got kicked out". I laughed and told everyone else. They were gonna go to the limo, drink more and listen to the game on the radio. We stayed for the rest of the game which was an amazing game that the Jays won and headed out of the dome as wasted as when we entered chanting "Let's Go Jays' with 50,000 other people. When we got to the spot to meet the limo, my buddy Chris was tanked and telling people to pay this drummer who always plays outside the Dome.
they told us they didn't feel bad about getting kicked out of the game becauseon their way out they saw the guy who started the whole thing in Medical getting stiched up and the blood cleaned off of his jacket while his buddy's waited for him. So at least they won.
Well. should do some more work. Still lots more to this evening. I'll try and get it up a little later on.
So we were pushing it for time when we arrived and by the time we got to the 5th deck it was pretty loud in the buiding but we couldn't go to our seats without stopping to grab another beer. Which we gladly did. We got there in time to see the National Anthem and Tom Cheak's wife (Tom having recently passed away from a fight with cancer) throw out the ceremonial first pitch - receiving a stnading ovation.
The tone was set early as we began chanting right away afterwards for the Jays and a woman asked my friend "Are you planning to be this loud through the entire game?" to which he gave the only honest answer he could "Probably, yes." We soon learned we were in the wrong seats and were 2 rows ahead of where we were supposed to be. The people who's seats we were in were not to kind about resolving the situation as we were more than willing to move - just apparently not quick enough for them. Keep these people in mind. They play heavily in to the story later.
So we moved up 2 rows and continued our party. We were surround by many people our age who we talked to and generally had a good time with. The beers continued to flow and the evening was going perfectly... Until.
My buddy, Aaron, the friendly fellow that he is decided to shwo some love to the crowd that we were talking to. He just randomly started pointing at people in the crowd and saying "I like this guy." Ya it was stupid and he was drunk but people were liking him back and there were no real issues. He continued this for a while until he pointed to the lead dick that had been so rude in asking us to move 2 rows in from of us - and then said "but not this guy." and just laughed, as did most of the section and a couple of this guy's buddy's. Unfortunately... he didn't laugh.
He jumped out of his seat and spun around and in the most faked gangster voice you could possibly imagine yelled "What the fuck you say, bitch?". Aaron just laughed thinking the guy was kidding around. Apparently laughing at him wasn't what this guy wanted as he went to the aisle and started heading up to our row. He came down it and started getting in Aaron's face so obviously we all stood up to make sure things weren't gonna get out of hand. He tried to tell him that he was just kidding around and everything was cool until... out of nowhere... this guy HEAD BUTTS my buddy! he head butts him? Who does that?
So Aaron shoved him and fists started flying and his buddy's and us all jumped in and the thing was gettin' out of hand. My friend Melissa who is no more than 115lbs (totally wasted like the rest of us) starts trying to get involved and punching this guy in the back. It was all starting to get calmed down until this point when the guy turned around and nailed her with an elbow and we all lost it again and it all blew up in to another fight. Eventually some under cover cops in the crowd and SkyDome security came and broke it up and took the guy who came to our row down for questionning. A few minutes later they came back up and said they wanted to talk to Aaron, and a few minutes after that my friend Chris who had been the first guy to jump in after the headbutt.
Some time went by and I eventually just barely heard my phone ring, I answered it, barely able to hear anything over the crowd. It was Aaron. "Ya ... uhh... we got kicked out". I laughed and told everyone else. They were gonna go to the limo, drink more and listen to the game on the radio. We stayed for the rest of the game which was an amazing game that the Jays won and headed out of the dome as wasted as when we entered chanting "Let's Go Jays' with 50,000 other people. When we got to the spot to meet the limo, my buddy Chris was tanked and telling people to pay this drummer who always plays outside the Dome.
they told us they didn't feel bad about getting kicked out of the game becauseon their way out they saw the guy who started the whole thing in Medical getting stiched up and the blood cleaned off of his jacket while his buddy's waited for him. So at least they won.
Well. should do some more work. Still lots more to this evening. I'll try and get it up a little later on.
A Rainy Day Story
Well excitement and action seem to have come to a stop around here for the lasst 2 little bit, so I figured I'd tell a story I made mention of a few days ago. It's a long and drunken one so settle in. Also, for the record. It's not raining.
Our story begins sometime in September when the Jays played their last game of last season. They missed the playoffs and we were all sad. We said that we should all still go to the Blue Jays home opener in April. Many agreed but the core group of us knew half would backout and we'd get down to a reasonable number. Over the course of the off-season the Jays began adding big name after big name and we got really excited. Over the coarse of a couple of months the team went from a nothing, to a contender. The Home Opener party was going to be huge!
We bought the cheap tickets ($9) to sit in the 500 level where all the poor partying college kids always sit and since we had gotten the tickets cheap, we had money to spare to rent a limo to go down, take us bar to bar afterwards and bring us home. It was gonna be perfect. Plus my buddy, also from Oshawa, had worked for a limo place in Oshawa when he was younger and got us a sweet deal!
So the group from school drove down to Oshawa on the day of. It was beautiful in Belleville when we started out. Sun out, not a cloud in the sky. This was early April and as you'll all remember it had been warm for a few weeks. As we got closer to Oshawa, only about an hour trip, the clouds set in, it began to rain a little, then a little harder until by the time we were in my buddy's driveway IT WAS SNOWING! The ground was covered and it was still comming down hard. It was unreal.
Nothing was going to dampen our spirts though. The 8 of us piled in to the limo in his driveway and we were ready to go. I"ll explain the logic here a bit. We did drive an hour to meet a limo in another town, but that's because 3 of us were from that town and could house everyone for the night after the game at our parents places so no one would have to drive from Oshawa back to Belleville - and a limo all the way from Belleville would be much more expensive.
So everyone had brough their own booze or beer for the car ride. But there was a bottle of "low-quality" champagne in the car which I believe is standard. We're poor college kids out for a party, we weren't picky. The lid was popped on the champagne before we were even out of my buddy's driveway. Everyone grabbed a glass and the first drink of the afternoon was down to the toast of "GO JAYS GO!"
So as we head for Toronto everyone is tyin' in to their beers or whiskey or coolers or whatever else was loaded up in that car. There were 7 guys and one girl so the beer/cooler ratio was slightly off but it was all good. From time to time throughout the trip the car would break out in a "Let's Go Blue Jays!" chant and they seemed to get louder and more frequent the closer we got to the Rogers Centre. We were yellin' it out the windows to people on the street who appeared to be Jays fans or have ears.
By the time we got there everyone was already nicely liquored. I left my beer in the car almost certain it would be confiscated at the door but I did put one in my backpack so i'd have it if I got through and could buy a beer, then when that was gone pour mine in to the cup but if it was taken I was only out one beer. Melissa asked if she could put her drink in there too which I said okay but that I would not put up a fight for it if they tried to take it when searching backpacks.
So we stumbled up to our gate still yelling and mingling with the other people who were nice enough to tollerate us and ignoring the nasty looks that the family crowds were giving us. When I got in I was directed to a table where they'd search my bag. I was asked to open it. Now I always take the same backpack to these things because this one has 2 large pockets and they usually only search the "main" one so I can keep shit I'm sneaking in in the other one and 9 out of 10 times it works. So he asks me to open my bag and, in a drunken haze, I begin to open the win the the beer and booze in it. I stop, look at him, and say "oh sorry. wrong pocket.". close it, open the other one where he sees my sweater and camera and the stuff it's okay to take. he knods and says go ahead. What an idiot. Still drunk I walk probably only 4 feet from the table and yell to my friends "I got it in!" but I was not called back.
Well I gotta get some work done. but the best parts of the story are still to come. There are fist fights and strip clubs ahead so check back later.
Our story begins sometime in September when the Jays played their last game of last season. They missed the playoffs and we were all sad. We said that we should all still go to the Blue Jays home opener in April. Many agreed but the core group of us knew half would backout and we'd get down to a reasonable number. Over the course of the off-season the Jays began adding big name after big name and we got really excited. Over the coarse of a couple of months the team went from a nothing, to a contender. The Home Opener party was going to be huge!
We bought the cheap tickets ($9) to sit in the 500 level where all the poor partying college kids always sit and since we had gotten the tickets cheap, we had money to spare to rent a limo to go down, take us bar to bar afterwards and bring us home. It was gonna be perfect. Plus my buddy, also from Oshawa, had worked for a limo place in Oshawa when he was younger and got us a sweet deal!
So the group from school drove down to Oshawa on the day of. It was beautiful in Belleville when we started out. Sun out, not a cloud in the sky. This was early April and as you'll all remember it had been warm for a few weeks. As we got closer to Oshawa, only about an hour trip, the clouds set in, it began to rain a little, then a little harder until by the time we were in my buddy's driveway IT WAS SNOWING! The ground was covered and it was still comming down hard. It was unreal.
Nothing was going to dampen our spirts though. The 8 of us piled in to the limo in his driveway and we were ready to go. I"ll explain the logic here a bit. We did drive an hour to meet a limo in another town, but that's because 3 of us were from that town and could house everyone for the night after the game at our parents places so no one would have to drive from Oshawa back to Belleville - and a limo all the way from Belleville would be much more expensive.
So everyone had brough their own booze or beer for the car ride. But there was a bottle of "low-quality" champagne in the car which I believe is standard. We're poor college kids out for a party, we weren't picky. The lid was popped on the champagne before we were even out of my buddy's driveway. Everyone grabbed a glass and the first drink of the afternoon was down to the toast of "GO JAYS GO!"
So as we head for Toronto everyone is tyin' in to their beers or whiskey or coolers or whatever else was loaded up in that car. There were 7 guys and one girl so the beer/cooler ratio was slightly off but it was all good. From time to time throughout the trip the car would break out in a "Let's Go Blue Jays!" chant and they seemed to get louder and more frequent the closer we got to the Rogers Centre. We were yellin' it out the windows to people on the street who appeared to be Jays fans or have ears.
By the time we got there everyone was already nicely liquored. I left my beer in the car almost certain it would be confiscated at the door but I did put one in my backpack so i'd have it if I got through and could buy a beer, then when that was gone pour mine in to the cup but if it was taken I was only out one beer. Melissa asked if she could put her drink in there too which I said okay but that I would not put up a fight for it if they tried to take it when searching backpacks.
So we stumbled up to our gate still yelling and mingling with the other people who were nice enough to tollerate us and ignoring the nasty looks that the family crowds were giving us. When I got in I was directed to a table where they'd search my bag. I was asked to open it. Now I always take the same backpack to these things because this one has 2 large pockets and they usually only search the "main" one so I can keep shit I'm sneaking in in the other one and 9 out of 10 times it works. So he asks me to open my bag and, in a drunken haze, I begin to open the win the the beer and booze in it. I stop, look at him, and say "oh sorry. wrong pocket.". close it, open the other one where he sees my sweater and camera and the stuff it's okay to take. he knods and says go ahead. What an idiot. Still drunk I walk probably only 4 feet from the table and yell to my friends "I got it in!" but I was not called back.
Well I gotta get some work done. but the best parts of the story are still to come. There are fist fights and strip clubs ahead so check back later.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
If You're Going to Run from the Cops, Do It in the UK.
Wow. Why can't we find a middle ground? The American government wants to take away *everyone's* privacy, but in the UK, even a fugitive's privacy is considered sacred. They won't put up wanted posters with their names and faces on them because, boohoohoohoo, they might sue! So only live in the UK if you want to run from cops. Otherwise, you might live beside someone who's wanted and not even know it. Doesn't that make you sleep well at night?
Just Another Manic... Tuesday
Greeting & Salutations
I trust you all enjoyed your long weekend. Where I was, just like most of Ontario, it was bitterly cold for the unofficial "Start Of Summer". We scrapped the cottaging/camping ideas for much better ones of staying home on the couch. I had a friend in from out of town whom I hadn't seen in quite some time. Was great to see her.
All in all, we didn't do too much but did venture out on Saturday night to see a movie with. We went to see RV with Robin Williams. I had been told for weeks not to bother cuz it looked terrible but I'm a big fan of most of the things he does. A friend told me Friday she had gone and loved it so I said screw it and we headed out on Saturday night.
It was hilarious. Williams always is. The story basically centres on an well-to-do family planning a trip to Hawaii. All they do is sit in their rooms with headphones on and IM each other so the father cans the trip to Hawaii and loads them all in an RV. They get stuck talkin' to rednecks and hating each other and all sorts of comedy gold. I'd definately reccomend it. We didn't stop laughing for more than 5 minutes through the entire thing.
After that we met up with some other people who had seen a different movie and went to Denny's for evening nightcap milkshakes.
Last night was the Season Finale of 24. I'm so hooked on that show, it's crazy. Just when it looks like everything is good in the world again and Jack might even be able to make nice with his astranged daughter, Kim, those damn Chinese strike again and leave one hell of a cliffhanger for Season 6. Incredible. Don't know how I'll get through the summer without it.
Well, back to work.
I trust you all enjoyed your long weekend. Where I was, just like most of Ontario, it was bitterly cold for the unofficial "Start Of Summer". We scrapped the cottaging/camping ideas for much better ones of staying home on the couch. I had a friend in from out of town whom I hadn't seen in quite some time. Was great to see her.
All in all, we didn't do too much but did venture out on Saturday night to see a movie with. We went to see RV with Robin Williams. I had been told for weeks not to bother cuz it looked terrible but I'm a big fan of most of the things he does. A friend told me Friday she had gone and loved it so I said screw it and we headed out on Saturday night.
It was hilarious. Williams always is. The story basically centres on an well-to-do family planning a trip to Hawaii. All they do is sit in their rooms with headphones on and IM each other so the father cans the trip to Hawaii and loads them all in an RV. They get stuck talkin' to rednecks and hating each other and all sorts of comedy gold. I'd definately reccomend it. We didn't stop laughing for more than 5 minutes through the entire thing.
After that we met up with some other people who had seen a different movie and went to Denny's for evening nightcap milkshakes.
Last night was the Season Finale of 24. I'm so hooked on that show, it's crazy. Just when it looks like everything is good in the world again and Jack might even be able to make nice with his astranged daughter, Kim, those damn Chinese strike again and leave one hell of a cliffhanger for Season 6. Incredible. Don't know how I'll get through the summer without it.
Well, back to work.
Monday, May 22, 2006
How was Everyone's Holiday?
So, how was everyone's holiday? Did the weather suck everywhere? I heard yesterday it was haling in Kingston and snowing in Toronto! *puke* Not what I wanted to hear! That is not supposed to be the weather on the May long weekend!
My holiday was pretty boring, but I liked it that way. After running around chasing down the people who have the power to give us this awesome apartment, being a phone zombie as I called it, it was nice to just dick around doing nothing, and I guess that's what a lot of people would have ended up doing with this crappy weather. So since Steve is being cute and making this awesome chicken pasta, I thought I should try and be useful somehow, so I thought I'd bullshit on here for a minute.
God I hate waiting for answers. Like I said, they'll let us know if we get into the big miracle building by Tuesday or Wednesday. I know it's only a day or two that I have to wait, but I find the worst day of waiting is the one where an answer cannot possibly come, like on a holiday Monday, like this one. You would think that would be the easiest day. But for some reason, I've been ancy all day, and I'm sure I've driven Steve nuts by repeatedly saying, "God I hate the agony of waiting!" and things like that. My head says, shut up, there's nothing to do, just chill. But that doesn't stop my feet from pacing. Yep, I'm a lune. But tomorrow, we could have the news. Ah the suspense is killing me.
I saw a commercial today that made me feel like a supreme loser. All it took was the first sentence. It went something like this: "Nothing is more frightening than starting a second career at 30." Second career at 30? Um, I'm 27 and I don't even have my first one! God what have I let slip by? I've worked at a few jobs, but nothing you'd call a career by any means. God you'd hardly call them a job! I was a camp counselor, I was a U of G phone droan twice for short stints, I was a computer tester for a couple months, I was a peer helper, a very small job, for about a year and that was while I was going to school and I didn't even get 500 bucks for it. What does that say? I sure don't have my first career, let alone my second one.
And, while I'm on the subject of weird TV commercials, have you ever thought that the chick in the pet meds commercial seems way too keen about ordering her pet's medications? Do you ever wonder if she's taking some herself? Or maybe that's just my screwed up head
I'm really starting to realize I didn't learn those things I was supposed to learn as a kid. The reason? I was a stubborn little brat and refused to learn when people tried to teach me. Now I realize how much I missed out on.
It started very early. They tried to teach me to swim as a kid. But I refused to put my face in the water. Guess who didn't graduate from swimming lessons and had to take them again at age 26 and can't seem to get it as well as I probably would have if I'd just stuck my face in the water at age 4?
Then there was crafts. I hated the way glue felt. So I'd do anything to get out of gluing things. So, you can guess how many arts and crafts things I did. Not too many. I didn't give a shit. Now, when I hang out with the kids at the shelter and they feel like doing crafts, I feel like a total fucktard.
Then there was sewing and knitting. I would sew things because they told me I had to do that for class. But I didn't pay attention. Now I can't even so much as sew a button. I didn't even try and knit because I thought knitting was for grannies. Now I wish I at least knew something about it. I know, I know, I can learn. I'm sure I can make up for it. I just feel like I'm a very slow learner.
I don't want to whine anymore. What else can I blabber about? Damn that pasta smells good. What is it with me today? I've been craving cheesecakes and all kinds of other desserts. What the hell? Even stupid things like that disgusting milkshake song is making me try and figure out how I can get a chocolate milkshake from somewhere. I've been thinking about ice cream at that cool place. All I need is another sunny day and some time and damn I'll be in there.
It seems desserts aren't the only thing I've been obsessed with lately. I had this weird dream the other day that the dude from the guide dog school I want to go to came up to do the interview thingy they do. During the interview, he put a dog in a harness and let me walk through the rest of the interview with it guiding me instead of doing the cane thing or the Juneau thing where he's holding the other end of the harness and you give him commands, so it looks really weird. Anyway, at the end of the interview, he just left the dog with me! At first, I was like, "He'll be back for the dog." But after a while, I started to wonder if this was my guide dog.
So I started walking around with it, feeding it, relieving it, all that. But I wasn't trained at that school. So I was trying to remember every command that I'd heard people from that school use with their dogs. But somehow, things were going really well with this dog. It didn't try to eat anything, sniff anything, do anything silly. I thought, "Wow, those dogs are well-trained!"
Then I started to notice that the dog didn't really seem to care about me. It didn't get excited, it didn't come over to see me, nothing. So I started to ask around, and someone told me that this wasn't a dog at all. It was a robot dog, and it was all a trick to see how long it would take for me to figure that out. And then it ended. How weird is that?
I guess it's as weird as the way this post is going to end. Hope you've enjoyed my holiday ramblings.
My holiday was pretty boring, but I liked it that way. After running around chasing down the people who have the power to give us this awesome apartment, being a phone zombie as I called it, it was nice to just dick around doing nothing, and I guess that's what a lot of people would have ended up doing with this crappy weather. So since Steve is being cute and making this awesome chicken pasta, I thought I should try and be useful somehow, so I thought I'd bullshit on here for a minute.
God I hate waiting for answers. Like I said, they'll let us know if we get into the big miracle building by Tuesday or Wednesday. I know it's only a day or two that I have to wait, but I find the worst day of waiting is the one where an answer cannot possibly come, like on a holiday Monday, like this one. You would think that would be the easiest day. But for some reason, I've been ancy all day, and I'm sure I've driven Steve nuts by repeatedly saying, "God I hate the agony of waiting!" and things like that. My head says, shut up, there's nothing to do, just chill. But that doesn't stop my feet from pacing. Yep, I'm a lune. But tomorrow, we could have the news. Ah the suspense is killing me.
I saw a commercial today that made me feel like a supreme loser. All it took was the first sentence. It went something like this: "Nothing is more frightening than starting a second career at 30." Second career at 30? Um, I'm 27 and I don't even have my first one! God what have I let slip by? I've worked at a few jobs, but nothing you'd call a career by any means. God you'd hardly call them a job! I was a camp counselor, I was a U of G phone droan twice for short stints, I was a computer tester for a couple months, I was a peer helper, a very small job, for about a year and that was while I was going to school and I didn't even get 500 bucks for it. What does that say? I sure don't have my first career, let alone my second one.
And, while I'm on the subject of weird TV commercials, have you ever thought that the chick in the pet meds commercial seems way too keen about ordering her pet's medications? Do you ever wonder if she's taking some herself? Or maybe that's just my screwed up head
I'm really starting to realize I didn't learn those things I was supposed to learn as a kid. The reason? I was a stubborn little brat and refused to learn when people tried to teach me. Now I realize how much I missed out on.
It started very early. They tried to teach me to swim as a kid. But I refused to put my face in the water. Guess who didn't graduate from swimming lessons and had to take them again at age 26 and can't seem to get it as well as I probably would have if I'd just stuck my face in the water at age 4?
Then there was crafts. I hated the way glue felt. So I'd do anything to get out of gluing things. So, you can guess how many arts and crafts things I did. Not too many. I didn't give a shit. Now, when I hang out with the kids at the shelter and they feel like doing crafts, I feel like a total fucktard.
Then there was sewing and knitting. I would sew things because they told me I had to do that for class. But I didn't pay attention. Now I can't even so much as sew a button. I didn't even try and knit because I thought knitting was for grannies. Now I wish I at least knew something about it. I know, I know, I can learn. I'm sure I can make up for it. I just feel like I'm a very slow learner.
I don't want to whine anymore. What else can I blabber about? Damn that pasta smells good. What is it with me today? I've been craving cheesecakes and all kinds of other desserts. What the hell? Even stupid things like that disgusting milkshake song is making me try and figure out how I can get a chocolate milkshake from somewhere. I've been thinking about ice cream at that cool place. All I need is another sunny day and some time and damn I'll be in there.
It seems desserts aren't the only thing I've been obsessed with lately. I had this weird dream the other day that the dude from the guide dog school I want to go to came up to do the interview thingy they do. During the interview, he put a dog in a harness and let me walk through the rest of the interview with it guiding me instead of doing the cane thing or the Juneau thing where he's holding the other end of the harness and you give him commands, so it looks really weird. Anyway, at the end of the interview, he just left the dog with me! At first, I was like, "He'll be back for the dog." But after a while, I started to wonder if this was my guide dog.
So I started walking around with it, feeding it, relieving it, all that. But I wasn't trained at that school. So I was trying to remember every command that I'd heard people from that school use with their dogs. But somehow, things were going really well with this dog. It didn't try to eat anything, sniff anything, do anything silly. I thought, "Wow, those dogs are well-trained!"
Then I started to notice that the dog didn't really seem to care about me. It didn't get excited, it didn't come over to see me, nothing. So I started to ask around, and someone told me that this wasn't a dog at all. It was a robot dog, and it was all a trick to see how long it would take for me to figure that out. And then it ended. How weird is that?
I guess it's as weird as the way this post is going to end. Hope you've enjoyed my holiday ramblings.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
From the Thought Pot
I just felt like posting, so here I am. I don't even know what'll end up in this one, so off we go.
I think I can safely say the apartment hunt is over! In describing the adventure we've gone through to find a new place, Steve mentioned a kind of building called the miracle building. The building that has to be found through word of mouth, won't cost an arm, a leg, and a few fingers and toes to live there, has all the things we need, and hasn't been overrun by creeps. Well, yesterday, we found not one, but two of those. Would you believe we've actually managed to locate two buildings that haven't found a way to profoundly suck?
Let's call them Little Miracle Building and Big Miracle Building. Both had apartments that were a good size, both had controled entry and elevators, both had access to pools and balconies, both had comparable rent and this sweet deal where they'd actually give you money back for staying. But Big Miracle building is a bit closer to downtown, has a giant room that you can book for parties, they're giving us a free parking space for friends to use when they come to visit since I can't see us having a car, and a cool laundry card system. No more running to the store for lunies and quarters! Plus, they deliver your mail right to your apartment through a slot on the door, and if you get a parcel, they'll buzz you! How fuckin cool is that? Can you guess which miracle building we're applying for? So, we'll know by Wednesday if we're in, and that still gives us time to apply for little miracle building if something edges us out. But this sweet lady who's the rental agent seems to think we'll have no problem getting into big miracle building. So, cross your fingers for us. If all goes well, there will be no more ditzomatic stories, and hopefully, with the rent being high enough, people with crack habits won't be able to afford it. Ah the future is bright!
For some odd reason, I kept waking up during the night, and I kept catching snippets of this infomercial for this charity called Feed the Children. The idea is that this company has boxes and boxes and boxes of food in their warehouses available as emergency food for hungry children in the States, but they can't even move a single box of food to a single hungry family until people send them money. You even get to see kids getting asked how it feels to be hungry. That just makes me want to scream, "How do you think it would feel, you fat fuck?"
Ok, at first, that sounds like a good charity, I mean everybody needs to eat. And they do say it's emergency food. Then you think about it and realize, they don't really specify what emergency this is. I don't know about you, but if I can't feed my kids, it's an emergency. So which starving families are thought to be in greater need of food? How do they choose? And, doesn't that just change the problem? Think about it. Some unknown benevolent force is shoveling food at families who, for some reason or another can't find the money to feed themselves. So, for the time being, they're fed. What happens when that box of food is empty? What if they don't get chosen for the next box? What do they do then? Shouldn't the parents get some help so this shit doesn't happen again?
Some other random things were going through my head, I guess because I've had to make a lot of phone calls lately. Some companies order their customer service reps to say the stupidest things. The one that kills me is, "How can I provide you with excellent service today?" Well, robo-rep, you can start by not saying that line of bullshit. The only way I'll know if the service is excellent is if I'm smiling when I hang up the phone. Next time I get that line, I might tell them that they can provide me with excellent service by not screwing up. But...shouldn't they know this already?
Another one they like to do is, after the call is over, they ask me to rate *their* performance. This always makes me wonder, does this rating system even work? They can write down whatever they want. I could say, "You suck, I give you a 2." and they could write, excellent service, 9. How do I know? They do say the call *may* be taped, but what if this one isn't and they know it? Nobody will ever know. Plus, I don't have the guts to say to someone, "You suck." Well, there is the guy who called me a liar when I said I was blind and laughed uproariously when I got the computer to talk in his ear, but he was a telemarketer, and I didn't want his service anyway.
Another question that will stop your standard script-reading phone drone in its tracks is, "Why?" It doesn't take more than that. Right after they've told you about all the advantages of having their platynum interest rates through the roof visa card, and you say, "Why would I want that?" You wouldn't get any more stammering from Porky Pig. I can just hear the poor guy. "I have to think? Oh my god! My brain cells! Do I have any left? That's not in the script. Where's the why part?" flip flip flip flip sweat sweat. "Come on it would be easier if you just hung up!"
I have nothing against phone guys, but I know some of them are stupid, and the rest are going to get stupid if they do that job much longer, it's mind-numbing!
And, as abruptly as it started, this ride is over! Thank you for riding the merry-go-round of Carin's mind.
I think I can safely say the apartment hunt is over! In describing the adventure we've gone through to find a new place, Steve mentioned a kind of building called the miracle building. The building that has to be found through word of mouth, won't cost an arm, a leg, and a few fingers and toes to live there, has all the things we need, and hasn't been overrun by creeps. Well, yesterday, we found not one, but two of those. Would you believe we've actually managed to locate two buildings that haven't found a way to profoundly suck?
Let's call them Little Miracle Building and Big Miracle Building. Both had apartments that were a good size, both had controled entry and elevators, both had access to pools and balconies, both had comparable rent and this sweet deal where they'd actually give you money back for staying. But Big Miracle building is a bit closer to downtown, has a giant room that you can book for parties, they're giving us a free parking space for friends to use when they come to visit since I can't see us having a car, and a cool laundry card system. No more running to the store for lunies and quarters! Plus, they deliver your mail right to your apartment through a slot on the door, and if you get a parcel, they'll buzz you! How fuckin cool is that? Can you guess which miracle building we're applying for? So, we'll know by Wednesday if we're in, and that still gives us time to apply for little miracle building if something edges us out. But this sweet lady who's the rental agent seems to think we'll have no problem getting into big miracle building. So, cross your fingers for us. If all goes well, there will be no more ditzomatic stories, and hopefully, with the rent being high enough, people with crack habits won't be able to afford it. Ah the future is bright!
For some odd reason, I kept waking up during the night, and I kept catching snippets of this infomercial for this charity called Feed the Children. The idea is that this company has boxes and boxes and boxes of food in their warehouses available as emergency food for hungry children in the States, but they can't even move a single box of food to a single hungry family until people send them money. You even get to see kids getting asked how it feels to be hungry. That just makes me want to scream, "How do you think it would feel, you fat fuck?"
Ok, at first, that sounds like a good charity, I mean everybody needs to eat. And they do say it's emergency food. Then you think about it and realize, they don't really specify what emergency this is. I don't know about you, but if I can't feed my kids, it's an emergency. So which starving families are thought to be in greater need of food? How do they choose? And, doesn't that just change the problem? Think about it. Some unknown benevolent force is shoveling food at families who, for some reason or another can't find the money to feed themselves. So, for the time being, they're fed. What happens when that box of food is empty? What if they don't get chosen for the next box? What do they do then? Shouldn't the parents get some help so this shit doesn't happen again?
Some other random things were going through my head, I guess because I've had to make a lot of phone calls lately. Some companies order their customer service reps to say the stupidest things. The one that kills me is, "How can I provide you with excellent service today?" Well, robo-rep, you can start by not saying that line of bullshit. The only way I'll know if the service is excellent is if I'm smiling when I hang up the phone. Next time I get that line, I might tell them that they can provide me with excellent service by not screwing up. But...shouldn't they know this already?
Another one they like to do is, after the call is over, they ask me to rate *their* performance. This always makes me wonder, does this rating system even work? They can write down whatever they want. I could say, "You suck, I give you a 2." and they could write, excellent service, 9. How do I know? They do say the call *may* be taped, but what if this one isn't and they know it? Nobody will ever know. Plus, I don't have the guts to say to someone, "You suck." Well, there is the guy who called me a liar when I said I was blind and laughed uproariously when I got the computer to talk in his ear, but he was a telemarketer, and I didn't want his service anyway.
Another question that will stop your standard script-reading phone drone in its tracks is, "Why?" It doesn't take more than that. Right after they've told you about all the advantages of having their platynum interest rates through the roof visa card, and you say, "Why would I want that?" You wouldn't get any more stammering from Porky Pig. I can just hear the poor guy. "I have to think? Oh my god! My brain cells! Do I have any left? That's not in the script. Where's the why part?" flip flip flip flip sweat sweat. "Come on it would be easier if you just hung up!"
I have nothing against phone guys, but I know some of them are stupid, and the rest are going to get stupid if they do that job much longer, it's mind-numbing!
And, as abruptly as it started, this ride is over! Thank you for riding the merry-go-round of Carin's mind.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
They're Back! And Some Other Crap
After being gone for I can't even remember how long, the Salty Ham Pay-per-view Roundtables have returned! This is surely a direct result of my overwhelming clout and worldwide internet influence, though some may try to tell you that it has everything to do with somebody offering to take the time to put them together each month because we felt like doing them again. But I want you, the loyal Vomiteers, to know that those people are...well, they're right actually. but in any event, they're back, and this makes me happy. If it makes you happy too, then I encourage you to click
here
and check out our picks for Judgment Day.
And to answer the 2 most common questions we get about these things, yes we're keeping score and yes you can participate. Click above for all the details.
In completely unrelated news, it's looking a lot like
the fucking apartment hunt
will soon be over, which makes me happier than any of you will ever understand. Ok so I'm sure Carin understands, but she knows me well and she's quite familiar with my legendary hatred for all things moving and moving related, so she doesn't count.
I can't believe how hard this whole thing has been, but I guess that's Guelph for ya. this city has changed a lot in the 5 or so years I've been here. When I first got here, Guelph was a place that was completely different from anywhere I'd ever lived. It had all the good things about a city, but with a kind of small town feel about it that made it a safe and fun place to be. But now it's a city that's trying to come to terms with the fact that it is indeed a city and yes, there are people who want to come here and take away the uniqueness and develop it into a carbon copy of every other city in the known world. And along with that, it's also a place that's inheriting the shitty parts of city life, like drugs and the crime that comes along with them. It's a really sad thing to watch happen, and it's made even worse by the fact that Guelph, as it is now, isn't anywhere near capable of handling it, which brings me back to the apartment hunt.
Guelph seems to be made up of 3 basic types of rental property. There's the cheap and central, the way out of our price range and central, and the stuff that would be fantastic were it not located at the corner of Middle Of Nowhere Drive and Am I Still even In Town At This Point Avenue.
Right about now you might be wondering why, if our only good option looks like cheap and central, has this whole thing been so friggin difficult? that's a fair question. But the thing about the cheap stuff is that it's cheap because it has to be, and the pricey stuff is pricey because it needs to be in order to avoid becoming cheap stuff in the future, even though by being pricey it ensures that good people who don't happen to have much money can't live there, but I digress. Remember the drugs and crime I talked about earlier? The cheap stuff is where they live, hence that's not where we live, at least not if we can help it.
So it's at this point that we need to start creating smaller sub-categories. I've started breaking the cheap stuff down like this. There's ok but creepy, wow, what a dump, wow, what a fucking dump, did they build a criminal warehouse here and not tell us, and good God, you're telling me peiple actually live here?
So with all of that and the occasional closed-minded prick who won't rent to us because blind people can't do their own yard work working against us, things get pretty difficult pretty quick, and it winds up taking a long time to find that ever so elusive 4th type of building, one I think I'll start calling the miracle building.
The miracle building is generally the one they don't advertize so the nare-do-wells won't find it. The one that you have to stumble upon by chance and generally can only get into if somebody puts in a good word for you. the one where they keep the price reasonable to keep people happy so they won't leave and will instead tell their friends that they should come and live there too. I think that finally we might have found one of those. I'm sure that one of us will keep you posted. Wish us luck, we need it.
Ok, this is getting long, so I'll go now. It's almost time to look at the miracle building anyway. But before I leave I would just like to say that being awake since 4:30 this morning even though I only managed to sleep for a little under 4 hours can bite my ass. thank you and good day.
here
and check out our picks for Judgment Day.
And to answer the 2 most common questions we get about these things, yes we're keeping score and yes you can participate. Click above for all the details.
In completely unrelated news, it's looking a lot like
the fucking apartment hunt
will soon be over, which makes me happier than any of you will ever understand. Ok so I'm sure Carin understands, but she knows me well and she's quite familiar with my legendary hatred for all things moving and moving related, so she doesn't count.
I can't believe how hard this whole thing has been, but I guess that's Guelph for ya. this city has changed a lot in the 5 or so years I've been here. When I first got here, Guelph was a place that was completely different from anywhere I'd ever lived. It had all the good things about a city, but with a kind of small town feel about it that made it a safe and fun place to be. But now it's a city that's trying to come to terms with the fact that it is indeed a city and yes, there are people who want to come here and take away the uniqueness and develop it into a carbon copy of every other city in the known world. And along with that, it's also a place that's inheriting the shitty parts of city life, like drugs and the crime that comes along with them. It's a really sad thing to watch happen, and it's made even worse by the fact that Guelph, as it is now, isn't anywhere near capable of handling it, which brings me back to the apartment hunt.
Guelph seems to be made up of 3 basic types of rental property. There's the cheap and central, the way out of our price range and central, and the stuff that would be fantastic were it not located at the corner of Middle Of Nowhere Drive and Am I Still even In Town At This Point Avenue.
Right about now you might be wondering why, if our only good option looks like cheap and central, has this whole thing been so friggin difficult? that's a fair question. But the thing about the cheap stuff is that it's cheap because it has to be, and the pricey stuff is pricey because it needs to be in order to avoid becoming cheap stuff in the future, even though by being pricey it ensures that good people who don't happen to have much money can't live there, but I digress. Remember the drugs and crime I talked about earlier? The cheap stuff is where they live, hence that's not where we live, at least not if we can help it.
So it's at this point that we need to start creating smaller sub-categories. I've started breaking the cheap stuff down like this. There's ok but creepy, wow, what a dump, wow, what a fucking dump, did they build a criminal warehouse here and not tell us, and good God, you're telling me peiple actually live here?
So with all of that and the occasional closed-minded prick who won't rent to us because blind people can't do their own yard work working against us, things get pretty difficult pretty quick, and it winds up taking a long time to find that ever so elusive 4th type of building, one I think I'll start calling the miracle building.
The miracle building is generally the one they don't advertize so the nare-do-wells won't find it. The one that you have to stumble upon by chance and generally can only get into if somebody puts in a good word for you. the one where they keep the price reasonable to keep people happy so they won't leave and will instead tell their friends that they should come and live there too. I think that finally we might have found one of those. I'm sure that one of us will keep you posted. Wish us luck, we need it.
Ok, this is getting long, so I'll go now. It's almost time to look at the miracle building anyway. But before I leave I would just like to say that being awake since 4:30 this morning even though I only managed to sleep for a little under 4 hours can bite my ass. thank you and good day.
Friday, May 19, 2006
The Redicuclock
Is it true the best rants are always when your day starts like shit? I don't know if that's the case or not - but if it is this may be the best post I've ever had - cuz I'm sure not happy. Unfortuantely, since I'm also not well-rested, it probably won't be.
Our family owns a business. During the summer my sisters and myself come home and work there. It's a construction company so everyone who works out on the crews or around the shop or complex have to be there significantly earlier than those of us who work in the office which opens at 8. The office ison the same property.
So there are 2 carpools out to the place every morning. One with my Dad because he oversees all the sites and shop stuff and needs to be there by shortly after 6, and one with my sister to the office which opens at 8. Since none of us particularly enjoy being up and showered in tiem to leave home at 5:35, we usually go with my sister since we're all going to the office anyway. In theory, there is no problem since we're all going from the same place, to the same place. Also, in theory, communism works.
Unfortunately things that work in theory don't always work in real life. The 3 of us that travel with my sister on "the late bus" all get up around the same time and need to shower and whatnot. Usually not a problem but every so often it can be if someone is takign too long in the bathroom or something.
Then there is the dispute on how early you need to be there to "get ready" to work. For two of us, "getting ready" means pulling out the chair at our desk and sitting down. For the third, it involves changing from shoes to work boots to go outside. None of which takes more than a minute. For some reason this is a large source of debate considering it's about a 20, 25 minute tops, drive and we are leaving the house at 7:08 which in some people's minds is pointless, but in teh mid of the person who owns the car, is not. This brings us to the real problem.
The Redicuclock. We have a clock in the kitchen that is 10 minutes fast. I don't know why. We're not really one of those family that goes by that entire thinking of if I move my clock ahead, I'll never be late or anything. It just is - and we're not allowed to fix it. It's not really that big of a deal any time except at 7:05 in the morning.
What happens at 7:05 in the morning? Well the driver swears up and down it is 7:15 because she has lived with this thing for so long and is pissed that the rest of the world doesn't think so.
I get up at 5:55 every god damn morning I'm home(to beat anyone to the shower who is getting up at 6 cuz i'm an ass that way). I shower, shave and all that jazz before I go back to the basement where my room is. I also grab a piece of fruit. I go downstairs, put on some music or SportsCentre and start getting dressed or ready which really doesn't take that long but I need that time in the morning before it's a good idea for me to talk to anyone. I'm a horrablemorning person. When my clock (which is on par with the satellite dish and THE REST OF HUMANITY) says 7:00am. I head upstairs. All thats left for me to do before I go is brush my teeth, a glass of water and an apple for the road. Hardly a 15 minute job which I should have time for because, well, I'm not supposed to leave until 7:15.
However. Upstairs the driver is looking at 7:10, fully aware that the clock is wrong and not caring. I come upstairs, in no rush and carry out what's left to do. I go throw my shoes on and am ready to go at 7:08. Unfortunately. That's 7:18 on the Redicuclock. And we're late. Not late for work since if we left at 7:08 we'd get to work at 7:43 at the latest and be still 17 minutes earlier than anyone else.
This thing causes the most rediculous fights. The clock is fast so I'm not really late, and even if it was that time we would still be early. I'm just as guilty as everyone but the whole thing is pointless. It's pointless to not be allowed to touch the clock, to argue over it, to need to leave it 7:15, and especially to leave at what the rest of the world is calling 7:05.
Two days ago was a huge blow up about it and while we were fighting about being late because we're leaving at 7:17 the god damn radio comes right out and says it's fuckin' 7:07. I asked if she heard that and she said it doesn't matter. That's the logic. It doesn't matter. I'm ready to snap on this god damn thing.
So I finally caved. I was just going to get up in the middle of the night and fix it but I caved and changed my clock to match the Redicuclock. I am now part of the insanity. I am not part of any time zone, I live 10 minutes ahead of the rest of the world, and I'll have to come to grips with it.
Have a wonderful day
Our family owns a business. During the summer my sisters and myself come home and work there. It's a construction company so everyone who works out on the crews or around the shop or complex have to be there significantly earlier than those of us who work in the office which opens at 8. The office ison the same property.
So there are 2 carpools out to the place every morning. One with my Dad because he oversees all the sites and shop stuff and needs to be there by shortly after 6, and one with my sister to the office which opens at 8. Since none of us particularly enjoy being up and showered in tiem to leave home at 5:35, we usually go with my sister since we're all going to the office anyway. In theory, there is no problem since we're all going from the same place, to the same place. Also, in theory, communism works.
Unfortunately things that work in theory don't always work in real life. The 3 of us that travel with my sister on "the late bus" all get up around the same time and need to shower and whatnot. Usually not a problem but every so often it can be if someone is takign too long in the bathroom or something.
Then there is the dispute on how early you need to be there to "get ready" to work. For two of us, "getting ready" means pulling out the chair at our desk and sitting down. For the third, it involves changing from shoes to work boots to go outside. None of which takes more than a minute. For some reason this is a large source of debate considering it's about a 20, 25 minute tops, drive and we are leaving the house at 7:08 which in some people's minds is pointless, but in teh mid of the person who owns the car, is not. This brings us to the real problem.
The Redicuclock. We have a clock in the kitchen that is 10 minutes fast. I don't know why. We're not really one of those family that goes by that entire thinking of if I move my clock ahead, I'll never be late or anything. It just is - and we're not allowed to fix it. It's not really that big of a deal any time except at 7:05 in the morning.
What happens at 7:05 in the morning? Well the driver swears up and down it is 7:15 because she has lived with this thing for so long and is pissed that the rest of the world doesn't think so.
I get up at 5:55 every god damn morning I'm home(to beat anyone to the shower who is getting up at 6 cuz i'm an ass that way). I shower, shave and all that jazz before I go back to the basement where my room is. I also grab a piece of fruit. I go downstairs, put on some music or SportsCentre and start getting dressed or ready which really doesn't take that long but I need that time in the morning before it's a good idea for me to talk to anyone. I'm a horrablemorning person. When my clock (which is on par with the satellite dish and THE REST OF HUMANITY) says 7:00am. I head upstairs. All thats left for me to do before I go is brush my teeth, a glass of water and an apple for the road. Hardly a 15 minute job which I should have time for because, well, I'm not supposed to leave until 7:15.
However. Upstairs the driver is looking at 7:10, fully aware that the clock is wrong and not caring. I come upstairs, in no rush and carry out what's left to do. I go throw my shoes on and am ready to go at 7:08. Unfortunately. That's 7:18 on the Redicuclock. And we're late. Not late for work since if we left at 7:08 we'd get to work at 7:43 at the latest and be still 17 minutes earlier than anyone else.
This thing causes the most rediculous fights. The clock is fast so I'm not really late, and even if it was that time we would still be early. I'm just as guilty as everyone but the whole thing is pointless. It's pointless to not be allowed to touch the clock, to argue over it, to need to leave it 7:15, and especially to leave at what the rest of the world is calling 7:05.
Two days ago was a huge blow up about it and while we were fighting about being late because we're leaving at 7:17 the god damn radio comes right out and says it's fuckin' 7:07. I asked if she heard that and she said it doesn't matter. That's the logic. It doesn't matter. I'm ready to snap on this god damn thing.
So I finally caved. I was just going to get up in the middle of the night and fix it but I caved and changed my clock to match the Redicuclock. I am now part of the insanity. I am not part of any time zone, I live 10 minutes ahead of the rest of the world, and I'll have to come to grips with it.
Have a wonderful day
Thursday, May 18, 2006
And..... Plug!
Well nothing makes me feel more at home on the Ol' VC than pimping shit that has nothing to do with the VC. That's just what we do. Especially when we first got started. So I might as well do it again.
Yesterday I made mention of the Canadian Cancer Society's Relay For Life and the fact that I was enterring a team. And while none of you uncreative pricks were able to offer up a name that satisfied the group... or a name at all... I was asked to put up the link to sponsor our team. So I am certainly more than willing to do that. The site's totally secure so no worries about that. Anything you can afford is a help. Every little bit helps, as they say.
Click here to sponsor Matt!
Upon re-reading my post it strikes me I shouldn't have called you all pricks directly before asking you for your money.... Live and Learn
Yesterday I made mention of the Canadian Cancer Society's Relay For Life and the fact that I was enterring a team. And while none of you uncreative pricks were able to offer up a name that satisfied the group... or a name at all... I was asked to put up the link to sponsor our team. So I am certainly more than willing to do that. The site's totally secure so no worries about that. Anything you can afford is a help. Every little bit helps, as they say.
Click here to sponsor Matt!
Upon re-reading my post it strikes me I shouldn't have called you all pricks directly before asking you for your money.... Live and Learn
What? Listening? On a Phone?
Here's something that always puzzles me. Tell me something. If you're looking for Nick Smith, you call what's supposed to be Nick Smith's number and you get an answering machine that says, "Hello. Thank you for calling Bob Jones. Leave a message." What would you do? Would you just continue leaving a big message for Nick about how you're wondering when he's planning on returning your pink underwear that you left at his place and whatever happened to Stan? Or would you realize that, oops, I have the wrong number? Unless Nick's machine routinely says that you've reached Bob Jones, I hope you'd do the second.
For some reason, I see a lot of the first. These are the exact words on my machine. "Hi. You've reached Carin. I'm not here right now, so leave a message." I got the following message this morning at 6: "Hello, I'm looking for Casey, wondering if he's coming to work. It's the foreman, and it's 6:15." And the strange part was he didn't even say something like, "Hmm, I don't know if this is Casey's number. This is the one I have for him. So if he's here..." He seemed completely unshakable in his belief that Casey was there, and just not picking up the phone, that bastard. When the blue bloody hell did Carin start to sound like Casy? And, he's looking for a male named Casey. Last time I checked, I didn't sound overly manly.
The funny part is this isn't the first time it's happened. I've had people call and say they'd like to tell Becky they made it to town, I've had people leave messages for the Holiday Inn or Frederic Travel, and leave everything but their visa number on my machine. Hey, chief. Usually businesses don't answer to Carin. Or, I'll pick up the phone, and this older woman will just start talking to me. She'll say something like, "Hey, Shellie?" Then she'll ramble on until I manage to stop her and say, "I'm not Shellie!" Judging by her age and the friendliness she has with this Shellie person, I can pretty much guarantee I don't sound like Shellie.
I can understand confusion on an answering machine where no name is given, or the recording is silly, or it's just the phone number. But if there's a name there that doesn't match the one you're looking for, wouldn't that be your first clue that ya might wanna try again?
For some reason, I see a lot of the first. These are the exact words on my machine. "Hi. You've reached Carin. I'm not here right now, so leave a message." I got the following message this morning at 6: "Hello, I'm looking for Casey, wondering if he's coming to work. It's the foreman, and it's 6:15." And the strange part was he didn't even say something like, "Hmm, I don't know if this is Casey's number. This is the one I have for him. So if he's here..." He seemed completely unshakable in his belief that Casey was there, and just not picking up the phone, that bastard. When the blue bloody hell did Carin start to sound like Casy? And, he's looking for a male named Casey. Last time I checked, I didn't sound overly manly.
The funny part is this isn't the first time it's happened. I've had people call and say they'd like to tell Becky they made it to town, I've had people leave messages for the Holiday Inn or Frederic Travel, and leave everything but their visa number on my machine. Hey, chief. Usually businesses don't answer to Carin. Or, I'll pick up the phone, and this older woman will just start talking to me. She'll say something like, "Hey, Shellie?" Then she'll ramble on until I manage to stop her and say, "I'm not Shellie!" Judging by her age and the friendliness she has with this Shellie person, I can pretty much guarantee I don't sound like Shellie.
I can understand confusion on an answering machine where no name is given, or the recording is silly, or it's just the phone number. But if there's a name there that doesn't match the one you're looking for, wouldn't that be your first clue that ya might wanna try again?
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
A Bit Of Home Town Trivia
Until Monday night when one was passed by council, the city of Guelph had no laws to tell people that they were not allowed to piss and shit on the streets, or in the doorways of local businesses. I don't think I've ever been more proud.
Back One Day - And Already Asking For Favours
Alright, Kids. Here's your mission.
A group of us are walking in the Canadian Cancer Society's Relay For Life. It's a great event. The idea, basically, is that you enter a team of 10, each of you fundraises $100 and then show up to the event and walk all night. 7pm - 7am. You, personally. do not have to be on the track the whole time as long as someone from your team is. Each team gets a little area and some people bring tents and take turns sleeping and stuff. It's a great concept and if your town is having one, and most towns do, you should consider putting in a team. Anyway...
Each team needs a theme and a name. Since our team is largely members of my extended family and my extended family revolves around a construction company we all own, it only made sense to havethat be our theme. We're all going to wear the yellow and orange vests and our little area will have traffic pilons and caution tape and stuff. Should be fun.
But we have no name. We don't want to just use our family name. (i.e. The Rectumsnatch Family) as some teams are doing but can't come up with anything good - or appropriate for the crowd.
So go to it. If you can come up with a neat name, throw it up on the board. Even if you come up with a bad one we're getting desperate. Also, if you'd like to sponsor our team I'd be MORE than thrilled to throw up the link for people to do that by credit card. It's a great cause.
Let's see those creative juices flowing.
A group of us are walking in the Canadian Cancer Society's Relay For Life. It's a great event. The idea, basically, is that you enter a team of 10, each of you fundraises $100 and then show up to the event and walk all night. 7pm - 7am. You, personally. do not have to be on the track the whole time as long as someone from your team is. Each team gets a little area and some people bring tents and take turns sleeping and stuff. It's a great concept and if your town is having one, and most towns do, you should consider putting in a team. Anyway...
Each team needs a theme and a name. Since our team is largely members of my extended family and my extended family revolves around a construction company we all own, it only made sense to havethat be our theme. We're all going to wear the yellow and orange vests and our little area will have traffic pilons and caution tape and stuff. Should be fun.
But we have no name. We don't want to just use our family name. (i.e. The Rectumsnatch Family) as some teams are doing but can't come up with anything good - or appropriate for the crowd.
So go to it. If you can come up with a neat name, throw it up on the board. Even if you come up with a bad one we're getting desperate. Also, if you'd like to sponsor our team I'd be MORE than thrilled to throw up the link for people to do that by credit card. It's a great cause.
Let's see those creative juices flowing.
Where Are They Gonna Hide That?
Thieves steal rollercoaster
German police officers are asking for help in tracking down thieves who stole an entire rollercoaster.
The 20 ton big dipper, worth more than £13,000, was stolen from a truck that had stopped at a car park in Bischofsheim on its way to a nearby funfair.
First of all, for anyone who cares, £13,000 converts to exactly $27,251.68 Canadian as of right now.
But more importantly, can anybody tell me how it is that we keep hearing stories about people managing to steal stuff like this, but none of them ever involve anyone getting caught?
German police officers are asking for help in tracking down thieves who stole an entire rollercoaster.
The 20 ton big dipper, worth more than £13,000, was stolen from a truck that had stopped at a car park in Bischofsheim on its way to a nearby funfair.
First of all, for anyone who cares, £13,000 converts to exactly $27,251.68 Canadian as of right now.
But more importantly, can anybody tell me how it is that we keep hearing stories about people managing to steal stuff like this, but none of them ever involve anyone getting caught?
A Personal Challenge
Happy Hump Day,
So I'm back... again... after a... I dunno probably 3 month break since the last post. I'm back home for the summer and returning to somewhat of a farmiliar routine and am going to make it a personal challenge to myself to try and post on here regularly. Who knows whether it will work ornot. I hate challenges and ones given to you by yourself are the easiest ones to shed... so this may not work.
What to start with - well for any of you who were here when I used to post here regularly, if any of you are still even alive, you'll know that the only thing I can even pretend to know a thing about is sports... so let's start there.
The Jays look great this year. Especially if Burnett ever gets healthy. And he will. We're hanging with the Sox and Yankess right now so if we can get him going and maybe get one more pitcher out of somewhere (since Josh Towers needs to be burned alive) we'll be in good shape for at least a playoff race. Go see the team. They're unbelievably entertaining. They have power and hitters throughout the line up which means they're never out of a game. The numver of 5 run 8th innings and the like that this team has had makes every game a can't miss. Me and a group of friends went to the Home Opener this year, complete with drunken brawl in the stands, and it was a blast. That's a story for another post though that I will definately tell.
Anti-Flag has come out with another album a month or so ago called "For Blood & Empire" which is great. Not as heavy as some of their stuff but similar message and great tunes. Even if you won't pick up the album, download the tune "One Trillion Dollars" and I guaruntee you'll hum it for the rest of the day. Has happened to everyone who I've had listen to it.
That's it for now I think. Also just wanted to say Great Job to Steve and Carin who have done a great job with this thing and have turned it in to something all their own with some great posts. Thumbs Up!
Back Soon.... hopefully
So I'm back... again... after a... I dunno probably 3 month break since the last post. I'm back home for the summer and returning to somewhat of a farmiliar routine and am going to make it a personal challenge to myself to try and post on here regularly. Who knows whether it will work ornot. I hate challenges and ones given to you by yourself are the easiest ones to shed... so this may not work.
What to start with - well for any of you who were here when I used to post here regularly, if any of you are still even alive, you'll know that the only thing I can even pretend to know a thing about is sports... so let's start there.
The Jays look great this year. Especially if Burnett ever gets healthy. And he will. We're hanging with the Sox and Yankess right now so if we can get him going and maybe get one more pitcher out of somewhere (since Josh Towers needs to be burned alive) we'll be in good shape for at least a playoff race. Go see the team. They're unbelievably entertaining. They have power and hitters throughout the line up which means they're never out of a game. The numver of 5 run 8th innings and the like that this team has had makes every game a can't miss. Me and a group of friends went to the Home Opener this year, complete with drunken brawl in the stands, and it was a blast. That's a story for another post though that I will definately tell.
Anti-Flag has come out with another album a month or so ago called "For Blood & Empire" which is great. Not as heavy as some of their stuff but similar message and great tunes. Even if you won't pick up the album, download the tune "One Trillion Dollars" and I guaruntee you'll hum it for the rest of the day. Has happened to everyone who I've had listen to it.
That's it for now I think. Also just wanted to say Great Job to Steve and Carin who have done a great job with this thing and have turned it in to something all their own with some great posts. Thumbs Up!
Back Soon.... hopefully
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Happy Mother's Day! Where's dinner?
I love my dad a ton. He's very good at building things, he's resourceful, and he was the king of the red pen, probably the reason why I got better English marks in the grammar department than I deserved. But he can sometimes be a supreme dick. Here's an example.
I phoned home on Mother's day to say hi and all that. I then found out that, for Mother's Day, mom ended up cooking for my grandma, but this is not my mom's mom, this is my dad's mom! On top of that, my dad's sister thought she'd enjoy a nice mother's day dinner...courtesy of my mom!
What really kills me about this is dad *can* cook. I can't count the number of stir-fries, pastas, and other things dad made when we were kids and mom wasn't home to cook, and they were good! Why couldn't he get off his ass on mother's day and cook this one?
After I recovered from that complete display of dad being an asshole, he got to amaze me one more time by saying to me on the phone, while mom was also on the phone, "She worked hard for her mother's day!" He's lucky he's 300 miles away, otherwise he would at the very least see a very angry daughter. But then again, if he wasn't 300 miles away, maybe mom would have at least let me help. I doubt it, but one can dream.
So, what's my point? Here's a note to other guys out there who seem to be drawn to doing selfish and dickish things. At least a couple days of the year, don't be a dick!
I phoned home on Mother's day to say hi and all that. I then found out that, for Mother's Day, mom ended up cooking for my grandma, but this is not my mom's mom, this is my dad's mom! On top of that, my dad's sister thought she'd enjoy a nice mother's day dinner...courtesy of my mom!
What really kills me about this is dad *can* cook. I can't count the number of stir-fries, pastas, and other things dad made when we were kids and mom wasn't home to cook, and they were good! Why couldn't he get off his ass on mother's day and cook this one?
After I recovered from that complete display of dad being an asshole, he got to amaze me one more time by saying to me on the phone, while mom was also on the phone, "She worked hard for her mother's day!" He's lucky he's 300 miles away, otherwise he would at the very least see a very angry daughter. But then again, if he wasn't 300 miles away, maybe mom would have at least let me help. I doubt it, but one can dream.
So, what's my point? Here's a note to other guys out there who seem to be drawn to doing selfish and dickish things. At least a couple days of the year, don't be a dick!
Monday, May 15, 2006
This Guy Is Teaching Your Kids
When I read this story I can't help but think that if it was a student that came up with this idea on his own, he'd be hustled into countless meetings and psychiatric assessments with no thought given to what kind of person he is, and there's definitely no way he'd be able to avoid some sort of suspension.
Teacher Apologizes For Asking Students To Write About Who They Would Kill
ST. JOSEPH, Miss. (AP) - A high-school teacher has apologized for asking students to write about who they would kill and how they would do it, and officials said he will likely keep his job.
Michael Maxwell, who teaches industrial technology at Central High School, said his request that students in his beginning drafting class describe how they would carry out a murder was merely a writing prompt. It was not clear why he asked the drafting class to write fiction.
"I made a horrible mistake that I regret," Maxwell said. "I want to apologize to my students, my colleagues and to the community."
The April 21 writing request, which Maxwell said was not a formal assignment, came to the attention of administrators when a parent of one of the students filed a complaint with principal Barton Albright.
Albright expressed regret and apologized for Maxwell's "lapse of judgment."
"He's an exemplary person ... this is very out of character," the principal said.
St. Joseph School District spokesman Steve Huff declined to discuss possible disciplinary measures because the matter is considered a personnel issue. But he said the incident probably isn't serious enough to cost Maxwell his job.
About 25 to 30 students from ninth through 12th grades were in the class, Albright said.
Teacher Apologizes For Asking Students To Write About Who They Would Kill
ST. JOSEPH, Miss. (AP) - A high-school teacher has apologized for asking students to write about who they would kill and how they would do it, and officials said he will likely keep his job.
Michael Maxwell, who teaches industrial technology at Central High School, said his request that students in his beginning drafting class describe how they would carry out a murder was merely a writing prompt. It was not clear why he asked the drafting class to write fiction.
"I made a horrible mistake that I regret," Maxwell said. "I want to apologize to my students, my colleagues and to the community."
The April 21 writing request, which Maxwell said was not a formal assignment, came to the attention of administrators when a parent of one of the students filed a complaint with principal Barton Albright.
Albright expressed regret and apologized for Maxwell's "lapse of judgment."
"He's an exemplary person ... this is very out of character," the principal said.
St. Joseph School District spokesman Steve Huff declined to discuss possible disciplinary measures because the matter is considered a personnel issue. But he said the incident probably isn't serious enough to cost Maxwell his job.
About 25 to 30 students from ninth through 12th grades were in the class, Albright said.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
No Thanks, I Think I'll Pass On That
You can now buy blue cheese perfume,
though why you would want to do such a thing I haven't a clue.
though why you would want to do such a thing I haven't a clue.
This Guy Is Kidding, Right?
Perhaps I should have titled this "Why People Hate Lawyers: Part 17326".
This is part of an article I just read about the sentencing of Min Chen, the man responsible for the killing of Cecilia Zhang.
Chen's lawyer, prominent Toronto defence attorney John Rosen, said he was dismayed that [judge] Durno rejected his argument that his client deserved leniency because Zhang's death was never supposed to happen.
"What I was disappointed with was that it was clearly a spontaneous act in the sense that it wasn't planned, wasn't considered, wasn't foreseen," Rosen said outside the courthouse.
"The judge rejected that submission, and I'm disappointed with that."
Let that rattle around in your head for a minute.
Ok, you should probably be wanting to kick prominent Toronto defence attorney John Rosen square in the nutsack right about...now!
An accident? An oversight? A spontaneous act that requires leniency? Is this guy fucking serious? Min Chen kidnapped this family's little girl in an attempt to extort money from them, and in the process, ended up killing her. And this, somehow, some way, in the world of John Rosen, qualifies as an unfortunate and unplanned circumstance that should cause a Superior Court Justice to view things with a "wow, that's some shitty luck there my friend" attitude during sentencing? Give me a break! Maybe I'm wrong, but I was always under the impression that in order for something to be accidental, it had to be, oh I dunno, maybe an accident.
Let's say that in the process of fighting off an attacker, you throw him to the ground in an attempt to subdue him, but he ends up hitting his head and eventually dying. That would be an accident. Breaking into somebody's home with every intention of walking off with their child and then smuthering her to death when, wonder of wonders, she decides she's not really down with that most certainly doesn't qualify as making an oopsy, and I can't come up with a single word strong enough to describe anyone who thinks it does.
If any lawyers happen to be reading this, I have just one thing to say to you. I know you're not all bad. I understand that some of you do in fact have souls and consciences and that you absolutely do have people's best interests at heart every time you walk into a courtroom. But if ever you find yourself wondering why your profession has the kind of reputation it does or why people make those nasty jokes about you, I hope you come back here and read this again, and see the words of one of your own. And when you see those words, I hope that 2 things go through your mind. Firstly that there is a big difference between providing good defence and spouting outright stupidity for the sake of making a buck. But even more than that, I hope that when you see those words, you can honestly say to yourself that while John Rosen may be one of your own by trade, he most definitely doesn't speak for you, and if you can help it, anyone on whom you may ever have influence. That's the only way that things are ever going to positively change for you and yours.
When it comes down to it, I think there's a good lesson in this for all of us. None of us, no matter what it is we do to pay the bills, should ever forget that sometimes there are more important things in the world than money. All of the money in the universe can only get you so far. What truly matters is the kind of person you are, that's what will ultimately end up paving your road in life more than cash ever will.
This is part of an article I just read about the sentencing of Min Chen, the man responsible for the killing of Cecilia Zhang.
Chen's lawyer, prominent Toronto defence attorney John Rosen, said he was dismayed that [judge] Durno rejected his argument that his client deserved leniency because Zhang's death was never supposed to happen.
"What I was disappointed with was that it was clearly a spontaneous act in the sense that it wasn't planned, wasn't considered, wasn't foreseen," Rosen said outside the courthouse.
"The judge rejected that submission, and I'm disappointed with that."
Let that rattle around in your head for a minute.
Ok, you should probably be wanting to kick prominent Toronto defence attorney John Rosen square in the nutsack right about...now!
An accident? An oversight? A spontaneous act that requires leniency? Is this guy fucking serious? Min Chen kidnapped this family's little girl in an attempt to extort money from them, and in the process, ended up killing her. And this, somehow, some way, in the world of John Rosen, qualifies as an unfortunate and unplanned circumstance that should cause a Superior Court Justice to view things with a "wow, that's some shitty luck there my friend" attitude during sentencing? Give me a break! Maybe I'm wrong, but I was always under the impression that in order for something to be accidental, it had to be, oh I dunno, maybe an accident.
Let's say that in the process of fighting off an attacker, you throw him to the ground in an attempt to subdue him, but he ends up hitting his head and eventually dying. That would be an accident. Breaking into somebody's home with every intention of walking off with their child and then smuthering her to death when, wonder of wonders, she decides she's not really down with that most certainly doesn't qualify as making an oopsy, and I can't come up with a single word strong enough to describe anyone who thinks it does.
If any lawyers happen to be reading this, I have just one thing to say to you. I know you're not all bad. I understand that some of you do in fact have souls and consciences and that you absolutely do have people's best interests at heart every time you walk into a courtroom. But if ever you find yourself wondering why your profession has the kind of reputation it does or why people make those nasty jokes about you, I hope you come back here and read this again, and see the words of one of your own. And when you see those words, I hope that 2 things go through your mind. Firstly that there is a big difference between providing good defence and spouting outright stupidity for the sake of making a buck. But even more than that, I hope that when you see those words, you can honestly say to yourself that while John Rosen may be one of your own by trade, he most definitely doesn't speak for you, and if you can help it, anyone on whom you may ever have influence. That's the only way that things are ever going to positively change for you and yours.
When it comes down to it, I think there's a good lesson in this for all of us. None of us, no matter what it is we do to pay the bills, should ever forget that sometimes there are more important things in the world than money. All of the money in the universe can only get you so far. What truly matters is the kind of person you are, that's what will ultimately end up paving your road in life more than cash ever will.
Carin and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Afternoon.
I hate afternoons like the one I had yesterday, the ones where all kinds of annoying little things happen that, on their own are pretty minor. But when you add them together and put a real doozer on the top, the masterpiece is not pleasant.
I wouldn't have cared too much thatI had to take a cab somewhere that was a bit expensive. It wouldn't have been too bad that the cab was insanely late and on the wrong side of the street. It also wouldn't have been horrible that the bus driver screwed up and didn't let me off at the bus stop I asked for and I had to take a bus around. It was kind of annoying that I was going to spend the afternoon working with someone who makes me feel like six different kinds of crap. It was also a bitch that I almost lost my purse because the strap came undone. But there was one thing, one solitary thing, that was the kicker. The funny thing is it could have been a good thing. But oh no. It was all a trick.
As I was catching the bus that was going to screw up, a guy I knew came up to me and was talking to me and said he'd run and get me a brownie. I thought, "mmm. A brownie! Sounds good!" He gave me one, and just as I bit into it, I heard him say, "Yeah, a Vegan brownie!"
I cannot even begin to describe the unpleasantness that waits to greet anyone who tries a vegan brownie. On top of the fact that you have no earthly idea what you're eating, I think the killer is it's not uniform. I don't know what it is about vegan goop, whatever goes in it, *gag*, but it doesn't seem to mix well. One bite tastes like peanut buttery goodness. The next tastes like a wad of paper towel. What's up with that? So every bite is a gamble. It doesn't take long before I'm dreading the next bite. And I love, and can finish, most little dessert squares. But half of this went in the bus garbage can. I thought if I didn't do that, more would be in there because I'd lose my lunch...and the rest of the brownie. Not a good scene at all.
So that was my afternoon. Probably people have had far worse than that. But as I said, there's not much worse to eat than a vegan brownie.
I wouldn't have cared too much thatI had to take a cab somewhere that was a bit expensive. It wouldn't have been too bad that the cab was insanely late and on the wrong side of the street. It also wouldn't have been horrible that the bus driver screwed up and didn't let me off at the bus stop I asked for and I had to take a bus around. It was kind of annoying that I was going to spend the afternoon working with someone who makes me feel like six different kinds of crap. It was also a bitch that I almost lost my purse because the strap came undone. But there was one thing, one solitary thing, that was the kicker. The funny thing is it could have been a good thing. But oh no. It was all a trick.
As I was catching the bus that was going to screw up, a guy I knew came up to me and was talking to me and said he'd run and get me a brownie. I thought, "mmm. A brownie! Sounds good!" He gave me one, and just as I bit into it, I heard him say, "Yeah, a Vegan brownie!"
I cannot even begin to describe the unpleasantness that waits to greet anyone who tries a vegan brownie. On top of the fact that you have no earthly idea what you're eating, I think the killer is it's not uniform. I don't know what it is about vegan goop, whatever goes in it, *gag*, but it doesn't seem to mix well. One bite tastes like peanut buttery goodness. The next tastes like a wad of paper towel. What's up with that? So every bite is a gamble. It doesn't take long before I'm dreading the next bite. And I love, and can finish, most little dessert squares. But half of this went in the bus garbage can. I thought if I didn't do that, more would be in there because I'd lose my lunch...and the rest of the brownie. Not a good scene at all.
So that was my afternoon. Probably people have had far worse than that. But as I said, there's not much worse to eat than a vegan brownie.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Ya just never know.
It's funny how things go. Remember back when I got tagged to do that list of 7's? Remember how I mentioned wanting to meet the guy I tried to help come and study here? Well, today I didn't exactly meet him, but I actually got to here his voice. I know that sounds weird, but I'll try and explain. I did warn you back then, this is a long story.
Back in 2001, I had a weird thing happen. A guy who usually helped me out with stuff like dealing with difficult professors and all that wanted my help with an unusual project. He'd been contacted by a young man in Pakistan who wanted to come to Canada and study. The reason he was contacting this guy was he was blind and didn't know if he would be accepted in Canada because of his disability. So for some odd reason, the person who helps me thoughtI would be able to help him.
I had no idea where to begin with this one, and couldn't figure out what to do. I started phoning everywhere, trying to find some way for him to come over.
You see, if someone has any kind of disability, it's hard as hell to come to Canada, or any country, I'd imagine, unless you have family there. On top of that, organizations like the CNIB or anything like that are dedicated to helping people who already live here, understandably. So they won't help him.
The poor guy was so confused by me. He thought I was the admissions officer. It broke my heart to have to explain to him that I was just a student. I was happy his English was as good as it was.
So after about a year of chasing down leads, going through a rollercoaster of hopes and disappointments, I told him it looked like it was not possible. So he went to France. But he was on my MSN Messenger list still and I would write messages to him from time to time. I have to admit that the number of exchanges went way down because I found it hard to talk to him. I don't know how to explain it. He saw me as being in a position of power to change quote the western world unquote because I live in it. I don't blame him. If I were in his shoes, I would probably expect the same. But it made me feel helpless and wonder if I should find a way to use what little power I had. It was also hard to digest the sheer amount of despair he saw in Pakistan. I tried to listen, but I noticed that sometimes I would dread seeing him online. Isn't that selfish?
Today, out of the blue, he asked for my phone number. Finally, I've heard his voice! It wasn't a long call, but it was sure weird to actually hear the voice of someone you've only known in emails and messages for five years.
Back in 2001, I had a weird thing happen. A guy who usually helped me out with stuff like dealing with difficult professors and all that wanted my help with an unusual project. He'd been contacted by a young man in Pakistan who wanted to come to Canada and study. The reason he was contacting this guy was he was blind and didn't know if he would be accepted in Canada because of his disability. So for some odd reason, the person who helps me thoughtI would be able to help him.
I had no idea where to begin with this one, and couldn't figure out what to do. I started phoning everywhere, trying to find some way for him to come over.
You see, if someone has any kind of disability, it's hard as hell to come to Canada, or any country, I'd imagine, unless you have family there. On top of that, organizations like the CNIB or anything like that are dedicated to helping people who already live here, understandably. So they won't help him.
The poor guy was so confused by me. He thought I was the admissions officer. It broke my heart to have to explain to him that I was just a student. I was happy his English was as good as it was.
So after about a year of chasing down leads, going through a rollercoaster of hopes and disappointments, I told him it looked like it was not possible. So he went to France. But he was on my MSN Messenger list still and I would write messages to him from time to time. I have to admit that the number of exchanges went way down because I found it hard to talk to him. I don't know how to explain it. He saw me as being in a position of power to change quote the western world unquote because I live in it. I don't blame him. If I were in his shoes, I would probably expect the same. But it made me feel helpless and wonder if I should find a way to use what little power I had. It was also hard to digest the sheer amount of despair he saw in Pakistan. I tried to listen, but I noticed that sometimes I would dread seeing him online. Isn't that selfish?
Today, out of the blue, he asked for my phone number. Finally, I've heard his voice! It wasn't a long call, but it was sure weird to actually hear the voice of someone you've only known in emails and messages for five years.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Silly Jabberings on an Awesome Day
I don't know what it is about awesomely sunny days, but they make me want to gabble about random things that usually I wouldn't think are worth being posted. But since it is so awesome out, here goes, off into the land of my silly mind.
I'm so glad to have that annoying census thing done. I went to do it this morning, and something really surprised me. This is the first year we've been able to do the census online, and already, they had a special help section on how to do it with screen-readers. That's pretty damn cool. Usually, they produce something that's completely blinky unfriendly, someone complains, actually several people complain, they do some research, and after several tries, they make something half decent. I'm not blaming or bitching, just saying that's the way it usually goes. But they produced something that didn't require an elaborate help file! I can't say it works well, because the good folks at stats can are not happy with my browser and I don't know why, I can't even find the settings they speak of. But to make a long story short, I couldn't fill it out online. But maybe it's a good thing I couldn't, because the help said with a screen-reader, it might take an hour, and I managed to do it with a helpful operator over the phone in five minutes! There's some speed and efficiency right there.
Today I was walking down the street and got a good chuckle out of something. There was a guy standing at the corner of a street playing music. My first thought was, "Hmmm I wonder if I'll step in his guitar case." I've done it before. My second was, "Hmmm I wonder what he'll do as I get closer." They all do pretty entertaining things. One guy stopped playing just in time to keep me from stepping right in his guitar case. Another sang and did a jolly dodge the blink dance. This one stopped in the middle of his tune and yelled, "Go left!" I hope no one was engrossed in his song, cause they'd be wondering where go left fit in. Then he told me he was trying to guide me *with* the music. It was a good thought, but my first instinct whenI hear music is not to be drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It's to try to avoid his setup since I don't really feel like joining him at centre stage. But at least he wasn't too mad at me and nobody else seemed to be, so that was good.
I got even more amusement today on the bus. I was coming back from this thing the CNIB put on at this nursing home. So, while standing at the stop waiting for the bus, I was joined by this grunting man. I didn't give it much thought, I thought maybe he had a stroke and lost the ability to speak. We got on the bus and he seemed to be able to see it coming and find a seat, so I thought, ok he must be cool to leave the nursing home. Then I started to question that assumption as we drove off. He would grunt louder and laugh. Sometimes he would copy noises around him. Once a baby screamed something like, "Dadadada!" The old man responded with a long, loud, "Daa-aa-aa-aa-aaa-aaa-aa!" Sometimes, he'd say, 10-4 along with the radio, or repeat other things. And sometimes when the baby would shriek, he'd say, "ooo! Screams!" It was really weird. Now I was really wondering if I should let the driver know where he came from. But he surprised me again when I got off the bus. He simply said to me, "Can you get down ok?" and sounded completely normal. So I really didn't know what to think.
While we're on the subject of getting a laugh out of things you wouldn't expect to get a laugh out of, I never thought a radio that could pick up police frequencies would be so entertaining, more like captivating. Oh god I sound geeky. Brad got a crank-up radio for his birthday. On it, there was a setting to pick up weather stations, I guess if you lived in the states. But we found out that instead of boring old weather, we get exciting and weird police transmissions. That is the coolest when you're in a small town where you might know the arrestee, and they're less likely to use codes that you have to look up. Who'd think we'd turn off the TV and gather around the radio to see what we could hear? And then there's the fun of saying to the other guy, "Do you recognize this name?" Scarily enough, we did recognize a few. Oh the silly little things that end up being fun.
And I think that's about all the random things I had in my head. Maybe I'll have more later. Get out in the sun, it's supposed to rain tomorrow!
I'm so glad to have that annoying census thing done. I went to do it this morning, and something really surprised me. This is the first year we've been able to do the census online, and already, they had a special help section on how to do it with screen-readers. That's pretty damn cool. Usually, they produce something that's completely blinky unfriendly, someone complains, actually several people complain, they do some research, and after several tries, they make something half decent. I'm not blaming or bitching, just saying that's the way it usually goes. But they produced something that didn't require an elaborate help file! I can't say it works well, because the good folks at stats can are not happy with my browser and I don't know why, I can't even find the settings they speak of. But to make a long story short, I couldn't fill it out online. But maybe it's a good thing I couldn't, because the help said with a screen-reader, it might take an hour, and I managed to do it with a helpful operator over the phone in five minutes! There's some speed and efficiency right there.
Today I was walking down the street and got a good chuckle out of something. There was a guy standing at the corner of a street playing music. My first thought was, "Hmmm I wonder if I'll step in his guitar case." I've done it before. My second was, "Hmmm I wonder what he'll do as I get closer." They all do pretty entertaining things. One guy stopped playing just in time to keep me from stepping right in his guitar case. Another sang and did a jolly dodge the blink dance. This one stopped in the middle of his tune and yelled, "Go left!" I hope no one was engrossed in his song, cause they'd be wondering where go left fit in. Then he told me he was trying to guide me *with* the music. It was a good thought, but my first instinct whenI hear music is not to be drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It's to try to avoid his setup since I don't really feel like joining him at centre stage. But at least he wasn't too mad at me and nobody else seemed to be, so that was good.
I got even more amusement today on the bus. I was coming back from this thing the CNIB put on at this nursing home. So, while standing at the stop waiting for the bus, I was joined by this grunting man. I didn't give it much thought, I thought maybe he had a stroke and lost the ability to speak. We got on the bus and he seemed to be able to see it coming and find a seat, so I thought, ok he must be cool to leave the nursing home. Then I started to question that assumption as we drove off. He would grunt louder and laugh. Sometimes he would copy noises around him. Once a baby screamed something like, "Dadadada!" The old man responded with a long, loud, "Daa-aa-aa-aa-aaa-aaa-aa!" Sometimes, he'd say, 10-4 along with the radio, or repeat other things. And sometimes when the baby would shriek, he'd say, "ooo! Screams!" It was really weird. Now I was really wondering if I should let the driver know where he came from. But he surprised me again when I got off the bus. He simply said to me, "Can you get down ok?" and sounded completely normal. So I really didn't know what to think.
While we're on the subject of getting a laugh out of things you wouldn't expect to get a laugh out of, I never thought a radio that could pick up police frequencies would be so entertaining, more like captivating. Oh god I sound geeky. Brad got a crank-up radio for his birthday. On it, there was a setting to pick up weather stations, I guess if you lived in the states. But we found out that instead of boring old weather, we get exciting and weird police transmissions. That is the coolest when you're in a small town where you might know the arrestee, and they're less likely to use codes that you have to look up. Who'd think we'd turn off the TV and gather around the radio to see what we could hear? And then there's the fun of saying to the other guy, "Do you recognize this name?" Scarily enough, we did recognize a few. Oh the silly little things that end up being fun.
And I think that's about all the random things I had in my head. Maybe I'll have more later. Get out in the sun, it's supposed to rain tomorrow!
Apartment Hunting Sucks!
Steve and I are looking for a place together. Our little places can get a bit cramped when the two of us are in them, not to mention if we unloaded all of our stuf into one of them. That just wouldn't happen. This has brought me to the conclusion that god I hate apartment hunting. On top of the strange deadlines, the applications you have to fill out and the frustration of finding out that some places just aren't within where your vision of an area of town is, you meet some real dopes. Let's begin.
Dope 1 thinks he can call an area not much bigger than your bachelor pad a two-bedroom apartment. Just because you have 2 closets in that small space doesn't mean it's a two bedroom!
Dope 2 doesn't bother to let his current tenant know we're coming. This is blatently obvious by the underwear she is folding when we go in. What does that forecast for us? Probably not good things. See ya later.
Dope 3 doesn't seem too alarmed that her building has no laundry and there's no laundry near by. Why? Because "She takes it home to her mommy." Will mommy do ours?
Dope 4 refuses to even rent the space he has available to us because we can't mow the lawn. seriously, would you really want two blinks trying to cut your grass? This position doesn't change even when we tell him we're willing to find and pay someone to do it out of our own pocket. Oh no, the guy on the main floor must do it. I will laugh and laugh and laugh if I read in the paper that his nice lawn-cutting tenants wreck his house and bounce rent. That actually happened to one guy in town, wanna go for 2?
Dope 5 works for an agency to help people find housing. Their specialty is supposed to be to match your requirements with places. Some of these requirements might be safety, affordability, location, you get the idea. This guy tried to recommend I go live at a place affectionately known around town as "the crack building." When I said I wouldn't feel safe there, do you want to know what his response was? It was, "Oh, you know about that." Thanks, goodbye, and I'll never recommend you to any of my friends, you slimy prick. Oo! That was a little unexpected venom.
Dopes 6 and 7 took the cake though. Where do I begin? Over the course of 3 visits, they helped talk us out of a place we weren't really sure we wanted anyway by doing the following:
And so, the search continues. But I know, like the truth in the X files, an apartment...is out there.
Dope 1 thinks he can call an area not much bigger than your bachelor pad a two-bedroom apartment. Just because you have 2 closets in that small space doesn't mean it's a two bedroom!
Dope 2 doesn't bother to let his current tenant know we're coming. This is blatently obvious by the underwear she is folding when we go in. What does that forecast for us? Probably not good things. See ya later.
Dope 3 doesn't seem too alarmed that her building has no laundry and there's no laundry near by. Why? Because "She takes it home to her mommy." Will mommy do ours?
Dope 4 refuses to even rent the space he has available to us because we can't mow the lawn. seriously, would you really want two blinks trying to cut your grass? This position doesn't change even when we tell him we're willing to find and pay someone to do it out of our own pocket. Oh no, the guy on the main floor must do it. I will laugh and laugh and laugh if I read in the paper that his nice lawn-cutting tenants wreck his house and bounce rent. That actually happened to one guy in town, wanna go for 2?
Dope 5 works for an agency to help people find housing. Their specialty is supposed to be to match your requirements with places. Some of these requirements might be safety, affordability, location, you get the idea. This guy tried to recommend I go live at a place affectionately known around town as "the crack building." When I said I wouldn't feel safe there, do you want to know what his response was? It was, "Oh, you know about that." Thanks, goodbye, and I'll never recommend you to any of my friends, you slimy prick. Oo! That was a little unexpected venom.
Dopes 6 and 7 took the cake though. Where do I begin? Over the course of 3 visits, they helped talk us out of a place we weren't really sure we wanted anyway by doing the following:
- I asked dope 6 why the rent was so cheap. She said she honestly didn't know, she just thought "the landlord was so nice!" so he was saving them on rent. When we arrived, it was made clear that maintenance wasn't this guy's priority and the building wasn't "so nice! after all." I mean, I wasn't expecting a gorgeous place, but I was expecting more than this.
- Dope 6 also didn't even know where her phone jacks were or if they even had any. She said she couldn't see them because all the furniture was in the way. Hello. You've lived here for a year, and the furniture didn't arrange itself.
- She also didn't know who she was paying her hydro to because "my room-mate set that up and I just send her money." After being very nice, I finally got mad and got the company name out of her by asking, "What are the words on the envelope that comes in the mail?" Even that took a couple of tries.
- The room-mate, dope 7, because I'm so predictable, wasn't much better. She also didn't know where the phone jacks were, and didn't understand the question "Do you lose heat in the winter time?" or "Does the place get cold." I've never had someone pause so long and then say very slowly, "Um... ... ... I...don't...knooooooooooooow!" Chief, It's May! Winter wasn't that long ago. Sure it was a mild one. But it still covered the ground with white garbage, that's cold enough to make you, um ... ... ... knooooooow! And, it was their first and only winter, so it's not like she couldn't remember which winter was the worst.
- This was the best. After showing us around, Dope 6 looked at us, giggled and said, "Soon I'm going to go to New York City to meet this guy for the first time! I met him on the internet. He's from Iowa, and he's so nice!" Anybody remember what else was so nice that we just saw? I hope she makes it back alive and unscathed.
And so, the search continues. But I know, like the truth in the X files, an apartment...is out there.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Brain Drain!
Wow! Would you believe that, instead of making a date-rape drug, this bunch of imbeciles made industrial strength drain cleaner, some of them even managing to down four glasses of it, but they still didn't figure out that something was amiss with their chemical creation until they had to call an ambulance because our star of the show wasn't breathing? How the hell is that possible? If I *smell* even household drain cleaner, I'm going, ick! I know why that stuff clears clogs. Imagine drinking industrial-strength clog-clearer. It's no wonder it almost killed our guy who's going to jail, put his friend in a coma, made another one unable to walk, and made another friend pretty sick. Not only did one guy drink this stuff, four people did. Do they have no central nervous system? What the fuck?
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Stupidhead the Sequel!
I guess I spoke too soon. I have now discovered that my new neighbour is a stupidhead of a different kind. What will I call her? Ditz-o-matic?
Let's run down 15 minutes with her. I'm in my house talking on the phone. I hear, slam. Jingle. slam slam jingle! "What the hell!" I open my door and hear "Really, Ma'am, it's no big deal." I ask her what's going on. She cries that her lock is broken and seems to have fallen off and she can't get in she can't get in she can't get in! I then found out that the people telling her that it was no big deal, ma'am, were random strangers that she pulled in off the street to try her door. They were not friends. they were not even acquaintances. They were people she chased down. Now, I've chased down a few people in my time, but it's usually for directions or to ask them which street I'm chasing them down. I've never felt the need to pull random strangers into my apartment building lobby and then have them try my lock. Doesn't that just scream trouble to you? What if stranger e. is an accomplished burglar whose reason for being good with locks is his skill at breaking them to get in. I personally don't want people knowing precisely where I live if I don't know precisely who they are.
Deciding this drama should move out of public view, I told her to get in my place. I then dialed the landlord and handed her the phone. The string of chaos that was her message to him was something like, "Hello. I'm the girl living at xxx. I can't get in. My lock's off, I'm in a crisis, I need to have you come over now now now!" Next, I phoned his cell phone for her, she didn't know either of these numbers at all. She left a similar message, only with a higher pitched voice.
After she started to panic, I said I thought he had another emergency number. Since I didn't remember that one, I did the only logical thing I thought there was to do. I didn't drag more strangers into the building. I didn't do a rain dance outside hoping that instead of rain, we'd get the landlord's arrival. I didn't scream for my mommy. We went over to the main building and looked for the buzzer number of the guy I sort of knew to ask him if he had the emergency number. No luck. So we went inside and asked people who lived there if they had it. They said no. So we went to the restaurant next door to see if they had it because the restaurant is attached to the building, so they might rent the space from the same guy. . They said no. So we headed back to my place to think. But by this time, he had arrived and saved the day for her.
But that wasn't all of her silly ditzy antics. In a building that was a no pets building, she had a puppy in her apartment. This puppy had something encrusted around its mouth which she said was just its lack of a summer haircut, and I'll swear, even if she claims it's an angel, snapped at me. It growled, and then jumped, twice, both in the direction of my face! It didn't do that little hello jump up thing some dogs do. Oh no, it leapt straight for my face. It wouldn't bark or howl, it would just make this horrible snorting noise that she said was it's way of talking. Wouldn't that make alarm bells go off a bit? Most dogs at least bark a little. What's wrong with this one?
Her final act of goofiness was to say to me, "You shouldn't have had to do this, I didn't want to involve the neighbour." But she had no problem involving strangers. Uh-huh. Even today, she keeps trying to give me giant hugs for what I did. Wow. I appreciate this, but I didn't think I did all that much.
Other small things keep happening, like the scent of weed in the lobby...again, the people pounding on the door and yelling for her...again, and the loud door slamming...again. you follow me? Not...again!
Let's run down 15 minutes with her. I'm in my house talking on the phone. I hear, slam. Jingle. slam slam jingle! "What the hell!" I open my door and hear "Really, Ma'am, it's no big deal." I ask her what's going on. She cries that her lock is broken and seems to have fallen off and she can't get in she can't get in she can't get in! I then found out that the people telling her that it was no big deal, ma'am, were random strangers that she pulled in off the street to try her door. They were not friends. they were not even acquaintances. They were people she chased down. Now, I've chased down a few people in my time, but it's usually for directions or to ask them which street I'm chasing them down. I've never felt the need to pull random strangers into my apartment building lobby and then have them try my lock. Doesn't that just scream trouble to you? What if stranger e. is an accomplished burglar whose reason for being good with locks is his skill at breaking them to get in. I personally don't want people knowing precisely where I live if I don't know precisely who they are.
Deciding this drama should move out of public view, I told her to get in my place. I then dialed the landlord and handed her the phone. The string of chaos that was her message to him was something like, "Hello. I'm the girl living at xxx. I can't get in. My lock's off, I'm in a crisis, I need to have you come over now now now!" Next, I phoned his cell phone for her, she didn't know either of these numbers at all. She left a similar message, only with a higher pitched voice.
After she started to panic, I said I thought he had another emergency number. Since I didn't remember that one, I did the only logical thing I thought there was to do. I didn't drag more strangers into the building. I didn't do a rain dance outside hoping that instead of rain, we'd get the landlord's arrival. I didn't scream for my mommy. We went over to the main building and looked for the buzzer number of the guy I sort of knew to ask him if he had the emergency number. No luck. So we went inside and asked people who lived there if they had it. They said no. So we went to the restaurant next door to see if they had it because the restaurant is attached to the building, so they might rent the space from the same guy. . They said no. So we headed back to my place to think. But by this time, he had arrived and saved the day for her.
But that wasn't all of her silly ditzy antics. In a building that was a no pets building, she had a puppy in her apartment. This puppy had something encrusted around its mouth which she said was just its lack of a summer haircut, and I'll swear, even if she claims it's an angel, snapped at me. It growled, and then jumped, twice, both in the direction of my face! It didn't do that little hello jump up thing some dogs do. Oh no, it leapt straight for my face. It wouldn't bark or howl, it would just make this horrible snorting noise that she said was it's way of talking. Wouldn't that make alarm bells go off a bit? Most dogs at least bark a little. What's wrong with this one?
Her final act of goofiness was to say to me, "You shouldn't have had to do this, I didn't want to involve the neighbour." But she had no problem involving strangers. Uh-huh. Even today, she keeps trying to give me giant hugs for what I did. Wow. I appreciate this, but I didn't think I did all that much.
Other small things keep happening, like the scent of weed in the lobby...again, the people pounding on the door and yelling for her...again, and the loud door slamming...again. you follow me? Not...again!
Count Me as one of the Lucky Ones.
The other day, I got a bit of an eye-opener. I heard about this weird small mailing list called blind tards. IT described itself as a list for the blind to talk about blind people we have met who are exceedingly stupid. I thought, oo what fun! Here's the place for me to talk about the blink I met on the bus who wanted to suck coffee through a straw because "I'm blind, andI might spill it!" and wanted me to identify all of her food items through the bags they were in. I thought, woo! I can talk about the first week I was at the school for the blind and how I thought I was in an asylum, not a school. Here's the place where I can hear similar stories and have a giggle. Maybe I can get some cool blog material. Boy was I wrong. Well, at least it gave me one blog post.
Would you believe that a list of 45 can generate more mail than a list of 1000? These people were the most vocal, most bitter, most unhappy and most dejected blind people I've ever met. But at the same time, they seemed to take pride in their bitterness and anger and loved to verbally beat up on anyone who did not 100 percent agree with them. I even saw a new member who stated she was born blind and was pretty bitter and lonely. I have one question for her. Why? I partly understand people who go blind being bitter and lonely. They miss their sight, and they miss their friends who have a way of leaving as soon as they go blind because they're afraid to face them. But if you're born that way, what the fuck is your problem? If you're 20-something and are still coming to terms with your disability, how the hell will anyone else deal with it? Maybe I just answered my own question about the loneliness part.
So, all I can say is, I'm happy to unsubscribe! I can't take that much bitterness, and I'm happy to not feel that way. I wonder if any of them will read this...I hope so.
Would you believe that a list of 45 can generate more mail than a list of 1000? These people were the most vocal, most bitter, most unhappy and most dejected blind people I've ever met. But at the same time, they seemed to take pride in their bitterness and anger and loved to verbally beat up on anyone who did not 100 percent agree with them. I even saw a new member who stated she was born blind and was pretty bitter and lonely. I have one question for her. Why? I partly understand people who go blind being bitter and lonely. They miss their sight, and they miss their friends who have a way of leaving as soon as they go blind because they're afraid to face them. But if you're born that way, what the fuck is your problem? If you're 20-something and are still coming to terms with your disability, how the hell will anyone else deal with it? Maybe I just answered my own question about the loneliness part.
So, all I can say is, I'm happy to unsubscribe! I can't take that much bitterness, and I'm happy to not feel that way. I wonder if any of them will read this...I hope so.
What Say You, Freud?
Actually I don't want to know what Freud would have to say since he'd probably be high as a kite when he said it. But since he was the first one to analyze dreams, and I'm about to talk about a really weird dream I had last night, that's why I picked him for the title.
Ok, where do I begin? I was sitting in MacKinnon, a building on campus, in class again. This girl came in and sat down beside me, with seven chickens attached to her arm in a ring-like thing. They weren't in a bag, pouch, cage, or any kind of container. They were just somehow attached together in a circular pattern. What the fuck? Chickens? Attached to her arm? So we're sitting there andI'm asking her about these chickens. She said they're part of another class project and she has to take them everywhere. She said the worst part was they always want to peck her arm if she doesn't have bread around. She said they frustrate her so much that sometimes she just wants to kill and eat them. Finally I offered to get some bread for her. She said sure, but I had to take the chickens with me. So off I went, with the chicken ring. I got on the elevator, and nobody asked me, hey weirdo, what's with the chickens? They just pushed the buttons. Then the elevator began to swing violently and came to a stop. Then the dream did something dreams like to do. It made the space in the elevator huge, so huge that I had to yell for someone's attention and ask what happened. They said the elevator was stuck. I asked them to use the emergency phone since I thought the alarm was useless for some reason I don't know. They found the phone, which was a speaker phone and only went to MacKinnon mainttenance. They said they'd come and rescue us, but it would take a lot of time. Then I got desperate for some reason, and suddenly I was the one who had to dive down onto the next flor. Yes, me with the chickens attached to my arm, had to become a stunt man.
I went head first, screaming all the way, and the chickens started clucking, more than they had in the whole dream, and pecking! They were now pecking my arm like mad! Then I started walking down the street, but it was taking longer than I'd expect because I had to stop and keep the chickens from chewing on me! Then it just...ended.
What is with that? Has anyone ever had a dream like that? Probably everyone's had weirder, but whatever. What's the weirdest dream you've ever had?
Ok, where do I begin? I was sitting in MacKinnon, a building on campus, in class again. This girl came in and sat down beside me, with seven chickens attached to her arm in a ring-like thing. They weren't in a bag, pouch, cage, or any kind of container. They were just somehow attached together in a circular pattern. What the fuck? Chickens? Attached to her arm? So we're sitting there andI'm asking her about these chickens. She said they're part of another class project and she has to take them everywhere. She said the worst part was they always want to peck her arm if she doesn't have bread around. She said they frustrate her so much that sometimes she just wants to kill and eat them. Finally I offered to get some bread for her. She said sure, but I had to take the chickens with me. So off I went, with the chicken ring. I got on the elevator, and nobody asked me, hey weirdo, what's with the chickens? They just pushed the buttons. Then the elevator began to swing violently and came to a stop. Then the dream did something dreams like to do. It made the space in the elevator huge, so huge that I had to yell for someone's attention and ask what happened. They said the elevator was stuck. I asked them to use the emergency phone since I thought the alarm was useless for some reason I don't know. They found the phone, which was a speaker phone and only went to MacKinnon mainttenance. They said they'd come and rescue us, but it would take a lot of time. Then I got desperate for some reason, and suddenly I was the one who had to dive down onto the next flor. Yes, me with the chickens attached to my arm, had to become a stunt man.
I went head first, screaming all the way, and the chickens started clucking, more than they had in the whole dream, and pecking! They were now pecking my arm like mad! Then I started walking down the street, but it was taking longer than I'd expect because I had to stop and keep the chickens from chewing on me! Then it just...ended.
What is with that? Has anyone ever had a dream like that? Probably everyone's had weirder, but whatever. What's the weirdest dream you've ever had?
I Feel Like Writing, So I Will
How's everybody doing? Me, I'm doing pretty well. I'm really enjoying the awesome weather we've been having the last little while, and I hope you all are too, unless you're one of those people who for whatever reason is stuck somewhere with not so great weather, in which case allow me to say, hahahahaha! Ok, that wasn't very nice, but still, hahahahaha! Seriously though, I really shouldn't laugh considering that I bitch about bad weather more than just about anyone I know. Snow and cold and even rain are things that tend to fuck up my day, sometimes to a frightening degree. If you've ever wanted to see a happy fun person change on a dime and become an angry ranting loon, come hang out with me on a crappy day sometime. I have no idea why this happens, but it does, and I've noticed that it gets worse the older I get.
Speaking of getting older, I want to send out an early happy birthday to my little brother. Ok, he's not that little, but he's younger than I am and I can't come up with a better term than the one everybody else uses, so little brother it is. He turns 20 on the weekend. That scares me. It scares me because I can't figure out where the time went. It seems like just yesterday I was telling him stories and bouncing him around the living room when we wrestled, and now he's old enough to drink and vote, and if he tried, I'm sure there's a pretty good chance he could beat my ass.
Many times I sit around and wonder when exactly it was that they decided to speed up time, and how exactly it was that I managed to miss the memo, even though I know that that's just the way things work. Time passes before you know it. Things change, people grow up and move on, nothing ever stays the same permanently. Some days it's hard to get my head around that. I'm only 26, but I already find myself looking back on how much things have changed in my lifetime, and sometimes, even though I hate to admit it, longing for the good old days. Ahh yes, the good old days. The days when there were only 10 channels on TV, and that was just if you had one of those big towers outside of your house and lived someplace that didn't have a bunch of tall buildings blocking the signal. If you didn't have that, you got 3, and 1 of them was in a language you couldn't understand. The days when you could say to somebody that they sounded like a broken record and not get a look in return that said something along the lines of "a broken what now? God, old people suck, and they smell funny. Mom, this old motherfucker is scaring me, let's go home." The days when saying something like motherfucker within earshot of your parents would get you grounded for a year. The days when your blog was written down on bits of paper in a book, and you'd flip out if somebody found it and read it, rather than typed out and stored on a server somewhere for everybody to see, even though some people still flip out if somebody manages to find it and read it, but that's another post for another day. The days before anybody knew what a blog, or even an internet was. The days when nobody wanted to, or was able to be in touch and connected to the office 24/7. I could go on, but none of us have forever to sit here and read it. Time is passing every day, and we all need to realize that, not take for granted what we have and where we are, and spend what time we do have here in the best way we possibly can.
That was much heavier than I was expecting.
I'm not sure if I've ever told any of you this story before, but I almost got to see Elvis Presley once. It's true. I was super close to seeing him, but then my shovel broke.
Ok, I guess some things never do change. I'm still a prick. Sometimes I can be a sentimental prick, but still, a prick is a prick is a prick, or something like that.
Before I go, I want to thank Carin for all of the work she's done here. It's easier than it's ever been to get in touch with us now and you now have the ability to search the whole web and hopefully once Google gets their act together this entire site from here, and that's pretty much all because of her. Thanks for taking all of the time to figure this stuff out. I'm far too stupid for most of these things, so thanks for everything.
That's all for now, but I'm sure there'll be more to come, including, hopefully, my take on what sounds like a pretty interesting Backlash show. And by interesting, I don't mean good, at least not if the highlights I saw on Raw mean anything.
Ok, I'm gone now.
Speaking of getting older, I want to send out an early happy birthday to my little brother. Ok, he's not that little, but he's younger than I am and I can't come up with a better term than the one everybody else uses, so little brother it is. He turns 20 on the weekend. That scares me. It scares me because I can't figure out where the time went. It seems like just yesterday I was telling him stories and bouncing him around the living room when we wrestled, and now he's old enough to drink and vote, and if he tried, I'm sure there's a pretty good chance he could beat my ass.
Many times I sit around and wonder when exactly it was that they decided to speed up time, and how exactly it was that I managed to miss the memo, even though I know that that's just the way things work. Time passes before you know it. Things change, people grow up and move on, nothing ever stays the same permanently. Some days it's hard to get my head around that. I'm only 26, but I already find myself looking back on how much things have changed in my lifetime, and sometimes, even though I hate to admit it, longing for the good old days. Ahh yes, the good old days. The days when there were only 10 channels on TV, and that was just if you had one of those big towers outside of your house and lived someplace that didn't have a bunch of tall buildings blocking the signal. If you didn't have that, you got 3, and 1 of them was in a language you couldn't understand. The days when you could say to somebody that they sounded like a broken record and not get a look in return that said something along the lines of "a broken what now? God, old people suck, and they smell funny. Mom, this old motherfucker is scaring me, let's go home." The days when saying something like motherfucker within earshot of your parents would get you grounded for a year. The days when your blog was written down on bits of paper in a book, and you'd flip out if somebody found it and read it, rather than typed out and stored on a server somewhere for everybody to see, even though some people still flip out if somebody manages to find it and read it, but that's another post for another day. The days before anybody knew what a blog, or even an internet was. The days when nobody wanted to, or was able to be in touch and connected to the office 24/7. I could go on, but none of us have forever to sit here and read it. Time is passing every day, and we all need to realize that, not take for granted what we have and where we are, and spend what time we do have here in the best way we possibly can.
That was much heavier than I was expecting.
I'm not sure if I've ever told any of you this story before, but I almost got to see Elvis Presley once. It's true. I was super close to seeing him, but then my shovel broke.
Ok, I guess some things never do change. I'm still a prick. Sometimes I can be a sentimental prick, but still, a prick is a prick is a prick, or something like that.
Before I go, I want to thank Carin for all of the work she's done here. It's easier than it's ever been to get in touch with us now and you now have the ability to search the whole web and hopefully once Google gets their act together this entire site from here, and that's pretty much all because of her. Thanks for taking all of the time to figure this stuff out. I'm far too stupid for most of these things, so thanks for everything.
That's all for now, but I'm sure there'll be more to come, including, hopefully, my take on what sounds like a pretty interesting Backlash show. And by interesting, I don't mean good, at least not if the highlights I saw on Raw mean anything.
Ok, I'm gone now.
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