Roselle Is Gone

I just heard this a couple of days ago.

Everybody and their brother's cousin's sister's uncle has heard the story of Michael Hingson and his guide dog Roselle, and how they not only got out of the World Trade Centre on September 11, 2001, but how they helped others too. Well, she has passed away at the age of 13. Reading that little obit for Roselle made me cry.

If you haven't seen it, here's his story. It's a short version, but all the other ones, just, had way too much blind guy sap for me to stomach.

May you have many socks to steal wherever you are, Roselle.

How Much Is That Doggie On The Street Corner

Brad sent this. It's 100% true. Carin and I have had a lot of strange things happen to us out in the world, but never this.

He also says that the story is much better in person, and I agree. It's hard to do things like this justice in writing, but he did fine and it's still pretty amusing.

Here we go again with the weirdness that is a part of so many of my days.

I was walking home last Friday from work, and a guy came up to me and asked me if I wanted a Shih Tzu.

While I was trying to figure out why on earth someone would want to give away a dog on the road to a person they don’t know from Adam, he proceeded to inform me that the dog’s name was Bubbah, he is 8 years old, not fixed, and he has only been bitten by him three times.

Naturally, the first thing I say is, so, he was broken once then? It took a minute, but he did get it. I told him that I didn’t want his dog, but thanks anyway, and I went home.

I haven’t seen either of them again, so I don’t know what became of good ‘ole Bubbah. Did he stay, or did he go?

It's Me! Remember Me?

I'm feeling all frazzled so maybe if I ramble, I can unfrazzle myself. I'm sitting here, time's going tick tock, and my brain is screaming at a fever pitch "You have so many things to do! Do them! Do them now!" At the same time, an equally loud voice yells "But you either don't have an idea of how to do the things you want to do, or you don't have the will." Both sentiments are completely true. But the war between them is consuming bunches of my energy.

Because this thing is such an epic, I'm going to put headings in it. That's how freakin huge it is.

"Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?"

That's going through my head this week, as something has gone horridly awry with my Trekker.

I was happily sleeping out on the couch when I heard it. "Beep...beep...beep..." That was the tell-tale sound of my external speaker saying "Hey nitwit, my battery is crazy low. Do something about it." But it was already pplugged in, had been for days. So what the hell was wrong?

I got up to investigate. Maybe the splitter had just come loose. Nope. Maybe something had gone wonky with the power bar. Nope. Maybe the splitter had gone bad? Nope.

So here I was staring at this unit wondering what in the name of all that's holy was wrong with it. The consensus from the trekker support list was that something had gone south with the charger. It's possible, since I did get this unit well-used. But here comes the fun. How do you get a new charger for a device that has been discontinued by the manufacturer?

Everyone said I should do two things: 1. get all the specs on the transformer box written down and ask for a charger just like that, and b. test the voltage being transmitted through the charger and see if it's changing or less than what it should be.

Both of these tasks require eyeballs at the current moment. I have heard that some time ago, there was a talking multimeter that was available up here, but hell if I can find it. And although I could scan the box with KNFB, if it made any errors, I could seriously damage my trekker if I gave the wrong specs.

So...does anyone know where I could go in Guelph to have the voltage tested out of the charger, and maybe have them read off the specs so I could make sure I get the right stuff?

In the meantime, I am GPSless, and I'm realizing how much I had come to depend on it, especially with all this guelph remastering going on. And every day I don't fix it, I get madder at myself. I am supposed to be resourceful. I am supposed to be able to figure this crap out.

I'm The Stupid Sometimes

Back when I was a wee little kid, for some reason I can't remember, they put me in the gifted class. I don't feel gifted. I mean, I consider myself to be pretty smart, but gifted? Cmon now. I'm not Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking or other people like that. I dunno. Maybe the smartest thing I did was figure out what date any day falls on during the year because I couldn't stand braille calendars. But I don't think that qualifies me as gifted by any stretch of the imagination.

Anyway, one day the teacher walked into the room and gave us a quiz...and it was really goddamn hard! It was full of obscure sports questions and stuff. By the end of it, I was just praying for one question, just one, that I would be able to answer. I began to sink deeper into my chair. I started celebrating any time I got anything right. I started wondering just what part of school I slept through to miss all this stuff.

At the end of it, he asked us all how we did. None of us did very well. He then said, "Now you know how it feels to struggle in school." Well, I have revisited that quiz in two contexts: building a website, and putting shoes on a baby!

Ok, let's start off at the place where you know how much knowledge I had of websites. The only websites I have either run or assisted with are an eeny weeny homepage I built off the U of G's server as a class project, and this blog. As for the website, you know the type. Hi. I'm me. Here are my hobbies. Oh, there's a picture. Want a list? Have a list. How about some bold and italics. I'm a baby code monkey learning about HTML back when HTML was, like, the only way to make a website." And of course there's this blog. But really, I just wrote code inside the post, and spleerched code into places on the template as directed by people who belong in classes for the gifted. So, this was a whole new league for me.

The first thing I noticed was Holy hell, I have a lot of admin panels. I'm used to like 1, you know. But that isn't the way things roll anymore. I bought the domain, after driving the poor folks at Skynet Communications absolutely fucking insane. To their credit, they never let me know I was driving them insane, but I'm sure I was. I just know I was, considering the barrage of rock-stupid questions I asked them. I'm sure they were internally second guessing the assumption that I possessed neurons.

"So I have an account," I said to myself. "Where do I put the stuff?" Seriously. I thought the client panel was somehow the gateway to the stuff-putty uppy panel. Yeah, right. Then I got the happy email, with a link where I could access the admin panel. "Yea! Stuff putty uppy panel!" Er, how about no? You silly insect-brain, this thing just gives you the chance to build a website in whatever way you want. It doesn't know you want Wordpress. "Oh, me install Wordpress? Right, how me do that then?"

As I sat there, staring at the screen, I felt like I used to feel in the dos command days when I would enter a command wrong and I would get greeted with the "Bad command or filename" message. Yeah, ok, so, where to now, boss?

And that's when they told me what was abundantly clear. "Hey there. That heading that says software? Look under there." They were super nice about it, but well, I thought at that exact second, you could hear the ocean if you walked up close to me.

And that's the funny part. Once you feel stupid, it's a vicious cycle. All the previously smart things you used to do escape you, and you sink into a deeper pit of stupid...which makes you feel more stupid...

Once I found it, I managed to install the damn stuff in the wrong spot, even though it was written right where it would go if I would stop for a second and, er, read!

Once I fixed that, things got easier, but holy hell, I spent more time that day sitting around waiting for answers, where if I had just, ya know, tried a little harder, used that supposed gifted brain of mine, I might have solved the problem my damn self.

Now on to baby shoes. One day, I was down with the huppy and his mom. It was time to put his shoes on, and the huppy's mom was busy doing something. So I thought, "Ah! I'll just slip his cute little shoelets on his cute little footlets! How hard could this be?"

...

Harder than I thought!

I took the first shoe, and eventually figured out that it was the right shoe. But for the life of me, I couldn't figure out how to get it facing the right way so that heel went to heel and toe to toe. Plus, it was a sandal, and suddenly I couldn't tell one end from another!

I thought to myself, "It's a shoe, a goddamn shoe. Ya know, a shoe? You put shoes on every day? How the hell hard could this be?" I sadly never succeeded in this task, and huppy's mom had to rescue me...rescue me from putting on shoes of a baby! I so totally fail.

So I really need to do something that makes me feel smart again, because I'm sick of feeling like the stupid.

Hold On To Your Hats, Qwitter Users

Ok everybody who uses Qwitter who still lives under a rock and has not heard the news, let me tell you about it. I'll even break it into teeny chunks so you might be able to understand it.

Twitter is changing something to do with the way Twitter clients access direct messages.

Because of this, until the Qwitter devs write a fix for Qwitter, you ain't gettin' no DM's after tomorrow through Qwitter.

This is not something of their choosing.

You have alternatives. EasyChirp, your phone if you can text, I'm sure you can find something.

It will work again once the devs stop unbuggifying the fix they are building.

Until then, deal. Find another way to get DM's. Do not bitch. If you want to help, send money, or if you have code brain, help.

And Qwitter Pro does not exist. They are attempting to be humorous, although I find their brand of joke not so funny, especially since I heard that they think nothing of stealing other people's code and branding it as their own.

Ok. Aaa. Now that that's out of my system, I feel better.

Oh, and for all the people who say the fix isn't all built and ready to go because the developer is being a lazy prick, chew on this a while.

Yeah! So, on top of going to school and making Hope and Qwitter, he's dealing with that. I'm feeling burned out and I'm not doing nearly as much as he is.

And on to one of the reasons why I'm feeling a might frizzle fried.

Access Recreation Day was great. Steve captured some super awesome audio. Now, I'm down to manhandling the larger files into something digestible. And thinking about the task is enough to make my brain make cool sizzling noises.

Ug. I dread editing. It's not the act of editing that makes me go yuck, it's the act of snipping out portions and not making it sound like Laurence Olivier advertising for Diet coke.

And then the voice in my brain that likes telling me which kinds of useless I am today tells me to shut up, because I could be editing the Audible Otter, a yearbook on cassette that the school for the blind did, back years ago. They didn't have fancy shmancy digital recorders and cutecy wootcy editing programs. They! Had! Tape! So shut up, get off your butt and finish the job you started.

And that is the large pile of brain splat that's on the menu. "But what about Trixie," you say. Oh, she gets her own pile of brain splatter. You just brace yourself.

The Walk To End Good Will

I really, reeeeeeeaaaaaaly hate this kind of garbage. It's one of the things that keeps me away from making donations to a whole lot of charities.

Lorna Robinson wants to walk with her cancer survivor daughter in the 2 day Weekend to End Women's Cancers fundraiser in Calgary this July. Her daughter raised $2000, while Robinson herself managed to raise $500. Pretty good, eh? I'd say it's more than fine, but then again I'm not speaking on behalf of the greedy scumbags at the Alberta Cancer Foundation, the organization putting on the event.

The foundation requires that anybody, and that includes people pushing wheelchairs, raise a minimum of $2000 if they plan on walking the whole 2 days and $1250 if they'd like to tag along for 1. It doesn't matter if your daughter had cancer or even if you've volunteered your time to the event in previous years. No money, no walky. And if you do walk, we're billing your credit card for whatever hasn't been raised. Oh, and there'll be none of this refunding the donations you've gotten up to this point talk either, thankyouverymuch.

Foundation spokesperson Lee Elliott says that yes, everybody has to raise as much money as we tell them they have to, but it's all for health and safety reasons, you see.

"If we had thousands of other walkers, walking along side supporting them – and that could be the case when we make an exception – then we can no longer ensure the health and safety of people along that route," she says.

So let me make sure I've got this right. If you don't arrive with large wads of cash in hand or paid in advance you're a security risk and may die, but once you've fed the beast, you're fine? Uh-huh.

She also denies that the foundation said it would bill anyone's credit card, but since we're dealing with an organization that won't let you participate in something but will take your money anyway, I'd be surprised if nobody said that to this woman at some point.

It disgusts and offends me whenever I see charities like this one that feel they can set rules like this and truly believe they're entitled to as much of your money as they want. If you're in a position to be that demanding, how hard up can you be? Or maybe you're too hard up and need to get some of those administration costs down.

The idea of charity is everyone giving what they feel they can, and then what's given gets distributed to those who truly need it. It's ok to run a charity a little bit like a business, but only in the sense that you don't want to be losing money hand over fist. Nobody, and I do mean nobody, should be getting rich off of charity work. And no charity has the right to tell anyone what they have to give. Whether each person raises $2000 or $20, you take it and be happy that you have money you didn't have before. For some people, $20 is a huge gift. Yes, Alberta Cancer Foundation, I said gift. You know, one of those things that people don't have to give you, but do because they care. And if you notice, the people who demand more and more gifts are the least likely to get them once they aren't cute kids anymore. Keep it up, and you'll find yourself in that boat eventually.

I hope the Robinsons get to walk, but if I'm them, I'm not sure I want to bother. These people don't deserve another dime of my money or a minute of my time after the way they treated my family.

A Heated Battle Over Rent Money

When we lived in our old place waaaay back in the days when Steve's laundry basket was stolen and drunks came for an unintended sleepover, we used to joke that the owner of our building was a mobster. It's a good thing we were never late with rent. Otherwise, this may have happened to us.

I guess the landlord, Jonathan Steinberg, and the tenant, Ronald Rohde, lived in the same house and the tenant was late with rent. So Steinberg splashed rubbing alcohol over Rohde's boxer shorts while he was still wearing them and set them ablaze. Luckily, Rohde got the shorts off before he was on the receiving end of a severe scrotal scorching, but still!

Eeek! Listen, Rohde, move! That's my advice to you.

Retirement With A Chance Of Politics

I don't watch the local CTV news that much anymore, but after this week, it won't be the same when I do tune in.

another member of the people you expect to be around forever group isn't going to be around forever after all. After 42 years, Dave MacDonald is retiring. He plans on entering politics and says he's got some other things he wants to do as well.

42 years is a long time to hold any job, especially one in broadcasting. It's a little bit crazy to think that he's been doing the weather in the same place 11 years longer than I've been alive and that not only did I grow up watching him, but my mom did, too.

I'd wish him good luck in his political endeavours, but I'm pretty sure he's running as a Conservative candidate so my brain won't allow it. But I do hope he enjoys his retirement, he's definitely earned it. We'll miss you, Dave.

I Only Have One Word. Headnova

Ug. The things people can persuade others to believe. The latest ridiculousness is an email stating that calls received on cellphones from certain numbers which appear in red when they call will cause the recipient's brain to hemorrhage.

I think my head just exploded, but not because of any cell phone call from any number coloured in red.

Do people honestly believe that a. certain numbers would be written in red when they come in, and b. that their cellphone could produce frequencies at the right volume that blood would burst from its vessels and flood their brain? Honestly?

I think that these days, anyone could dream up a hoax and someone would believe it, who would then spread it to someone else, who...

So Was The Tank His Chrisco Hamper?

Well, it looks like we know who was hanging out in the toilet tank, and it wasn't our old, er, buddy. We now know that his name is Luke Chrisco, and he's really, really, really weird. Where do I even begin? He wants to be a porn star. He calls himself a worshipper of women. So that's what he was doing in the tank there? He romes around from festival to festival offering massages. He sometimes sleeps in a cardboard box because the greyhound station smells funny. He also offers himself as a male escort.

Yup, definitely very very weird.

From The Mile High With Himself Club To Damn Near Rock Bottom

This Kyle Pearce thing is quickly moving from the ha ha, the dude masturbated on an airplane zone into I legitimately hope he can get the help he needs because it's kind of sad territory.

After he bonded out of jail, he was ordered to live in a halfway house and undergo some mental health assessments. But he may not be spending much longer there for a variety of reasons.

According to a memo from Garret Pfalmer, a senior probation officer, Pearce has repeatedly been “engaging in misconduct” during his month-long stay at Independence House. Along with “associating with female residents” at the coed facility, Pearce has been disrespectful to staff and “is either abusing his medications, or he is providing them to other residents.”

Among other alleged misconduct, Pearce has abused prescription medicines, gone AWOL from the halfway house, and got into a physical altercation with another resident. Additionally, during an appointment last week at a medical facility, a nurse caught Pearce “attempting to steal needles, syringes, and alcohol pads.” He also apparently filled fraudulent prescriptions at a Walgreen’s pharmacy.

prosecutors have filed a motion to have him removed from the home and sent back to prison, but no hearing has been scheduled yet.

"Nice Jacket." "I Know, And It Was A Real Steal!"

This is one of those cases when I'm not sure a trial is necessary.

46-Year-old Stephen Kirkbride was hauled into court on a shoplifting charge, accused of stealing a pricey waterproof jacket from a sporting goods store. Ok, so he started out being accused, but the case quickly turned from a who done it to a he done it when he arrived to profess his innocence while wearing the evidence.

Store manager Deborah Robson said: 'I pointed the jacket out to the police officer and he seized it straight away.'

Kirkbride, of no fixed address, told the court that he had picked up the expensive coat, which had large tear marks where security tags had been removed, from a charity shop.

'It was damaged but I thought it was a bargain,' he said.

Kendal police constable Jose da Silve Neto had already confiscated the two-part coat’s inner fleece from Kirkbride’s previous address at Town View Fields, Kendal, after CCTV footage showed the defendant taking the jacket from Sports Direct on February 3.

However, police had not been able to find the gortex outer layer until the defendant wore it to court.

Kirkbride said he had picked up his courtroom attire ‘from a friend’s house’, although he refused to reveal the person’s identity.

Crown prosecutor David Duke said: 'You’re making this up as you go along, aren’t you?'.

Kirkbride's lawyer tried to use the who would be that stupid argument, but since the answer was staring everyone in the face, it was unsuccessful.

Kirkbride's next court appearance is scheduled for July, and I'm sure the authorities will have an outfit picked out for him.

Dog, Sandwich And Brain At Large

Things like this keep happening, so we'll keep posting them.

Sarah Renee Lane was no fan of being told by the driver picking her up that she couldn't bring her pita sandwich into the cab with her. After what I'm certain was very careful deliberation, she decided on a plan. Leaving lunch at the curb is simply not an option. So instead of *bringing* my pita into this vehicle, I'll try *flinging* it instead. And that she did, getting yogurt sauce on the driver's face and beard and making a complete mess out of the taxi, according to police.

For reasons I will never understand, the driver was one of those people who decided not to press charges. Personally I'd let somebody fry for less, but that's another rant for another day unless I've already done it.

However, Lane was arrested anyway on an outstanding failure to appear warrant in a previous dog at large case. See, there's more of that careful deliberation we talked about.

What's That, The Creepy Pervert Pose?

This story about a man hiding in a portable toilet tank at a yoga festival made me think of Our buddy ol' pal Gary Moody. We don't know if this guy is him, but I'm very curious.

A woman went in to use the facilities, and noticed something moving in the tank. She left and got a guy to look at it. He saw it too so they got security to wait for him. They asked him to sit down, but he somehow got away. But they knew the man they asked to sit down had just come from the john tank, he was covered in crap. Ug!

Funniest to me was the fact that they didn't know how he managed to squish himself into the tank. Maybe he learned some good Yoga poses.

Also chuckle-worthy was a button right below the story. JAWS read it as graphic button 1 bm. Hmmm. How appropriate.

Dear Bell: Thanks For Everything. Sincerely, The Underground Economy

Newsflash for those who may not know it yet. Bell Canada is a horrible company that doesn't care about its customers and has no idea how the world works in 2011.

exclusive deals to broadcast TV content on mobile devices encourage innovation and shouldn't be banned? Have you paid no attention to the internet? The best things about it were created by people independent of each other all coming together to build something, or by companies with resources building something and then opening it up to the wider community and letting them improve on it. There's a reason why traditional distribution methods like magazines, newspapers, physical music delivery and yes, even television are struggling while the internet continues to grow. That reason is openness and people's willingness to pitch in to help better a project, sometimes for little or no compensation. If you create something that people want, the money will come...eventually.

But Bell would rather drag the corpse of the old days Weekend At Bernie's style into the new age, because they don't care about what people want. Really, they don't. Mirko Bibic pretty much said so.

If companies are allowed to sign exclusive deals for content on smartphones and other devices, it could mean customers would need multiple subscriptions and multiple gadgets to see all the shows they want.

However Bibic said it is "preposterous" to think Canadians should be able to access whatever content they wanted on whatever device and whatever carrier they were using.

If Mirko Bibic worked for me, that idiocy just got him fired...twice.

Again, look at the internet. What have exclusive deals and limited access done? The answer is a whole hell of a lot...for the smart people who run pirate sites. The pirates know what they're doing. Here's an unrestricted decent looking and sounding version of whatever it was you wanted to see. Yes, all of it. Not just what this or that network thinks you should see because of where you live or who your provider is. Run it however you'd like, wherever you'd like, whenever you want. All we ask for is a donation, and you don't even have to give us that if it's not your thing.

There are a lot of people (myself included) who would be more than willing to access programming from the source for free or for a fee if it was as convenient and as free of digital locks and equipment requirements as what the good pirates are offering. Same goes for music. It's time to forget about who has rights to what in this or that country. this is the internet, and none of that matters anymore. You geoblock something, we're getting around it and watching it anyway. You won't let us buy something from the place we want to buy it from, ok, we'll grab that for free. Content creation and delivery isn't what it used to be. Rather than buying up rights and seeing who has the most bills when its all over, companies need to realize that making less money is better than making no money at all. The customer has a lot more power now than he used to. I know that doesn't matter to Bell, but it should. Without customers, there's no money at all.

By the way, if you haven't read the article I linked at the beginning, can you guess who made the quite reasonable statement about people having to buy multiple devices to access everything? In a million years I wouldn't have. It was Rogers. Yes, the company that spends most of its time racing Bell to the bottom actually made a valid point and stuck up for the ones who pay the bills. I'm almost positive they have a self-serving reason for doing so given their history, but until I find it, thank you, rogers.

The Wood Is A Little Too Handy

Here we have a fellow charged with indecent exposure and open lewdness after two separate incidents. The first was the flashing of a McDonald's drive-through worker while the second, which took place almost two weeks later, involved our friend and his friend (if you catch my drift) pulling up beside a woman in a Rite Aid parking lot and showing her what she could have seen had she chosen to eat fast food a few days earlier.

We also have a fellow who just found himself squarely placed in the names tag, since he has what I'm sure is the constant pleasure of signing his chequesHandy Henry Wood.

And what do you know, we also have a photo of the fellow in question. That's handy...literally.

The Best Blindness Related Song There May Have Ever Been

Not sure how I missed this when it went around last week considering I'm Twitter friends with the guy who did it.

I'm not entirely sure what the message is supposed to be if there is one, but I can tell you for certain that it does a great job of cramming a lot of blind stereotypes and blind person thought process into 3 and a half minutes. Enjoy. Byran Lee - Sighted Guide

If It's Not The Best Song Ever, Can We At Least Agree That It Beats The Hell Out Of Friday?

Good luck getting this out of your head. Jon Lajoie - the Best Song.

It might not be for everybody, but I seriously have tears in my eyes right now.

Somebody Needs To Stop Getting Inspiration From His Last Name And Street Signs

Sadly, this story makes me not want to buy anything from thrift stores ever again. But on the other hand, it does make a nice addition to the names tag.

Arrested and charged with indecent exposure after being caught sitting on a couch in a Salvation Army store with his pants around his ankles and a leg propped up so that everything could be clearly seen is Randall Boyd Johnson.

But wait, that's not even the best part. Johnson's address is listed here as 2285 Pristine View.

If jokes keep writing themselves like this, I may find myself out of a job soon. And if I'm out of a job, I'm going to need to buy cheap things...like furniture. Oh man, this is not good. Not good at all.

This Melon Belongs In The Ocean, This Melon Belongs In The Sea. So Don't Take It Out Of The Ocean, And Pour Your Swim Noodle On Me

The story of 68-year-old Karl Ludwig Eichner and the head-shaped rotting watermelon he was adamant did not belong in the ocean is another of those times when I need say nothing funny or serious to add to the strangeness of it all.

A woman who was at the beach with a friend observed a rotting watermelon that had been carved and shaped into a head sitting on the sand. The watermelon seemed to have been abandoned so she placed it in the ocean in hopes that it would disintegrate and not attract any bugs.

Eichner retrieved the watermelon from the ocean and placed it back on the beach.

The woman placed the watermelon in the ocean once again.

Eichner approached the woman with his swim noodle full of water and dumped the water on her as she was sitting on her towel. He then punched her in the cheek.

Eichner was arrested and charged with battery. NO word on court appearances or jail time yet.

Violin Mario

Since we've had nothing else for you yet today and because this is pretty sweet, enjoy this video of a violinist playing along with the Super Mario Brothers game on the screen in the background. And when I say playing along with, yes, that does mean complete with coins, jumping and other sound effects. Colour me impressed and amused.

Next Time You'll Drive Safely...If You're Not Too Chicken

You'd think, if you're driving a vehicle full of guns and drugs, that you'd want to be the best driver on the road so as to avoid detection. But you, of course, aren't Shawn Smith.

If you were, rather than taking great care of yourself and your cargo, you would eat chicken while talking on your cell phone, mess up a U-turn and damn near hit a marked police cruiser. You would then be arrested and charged with cocaine and paraphernalia possession, a felony and a misdemeanor, respectively. You would also helpfully inform the arresting officer that you were a bit distracted, as if your coming a few inches from possibly killing him wasn't clue enough.

You're free on $13500 bond right now, but you surely must know it's only a matter of time.

3 Clips, 1 Post

I really should have had this up at the end of last week, but sleeplessness, laziness and a Fathers' Day weekend out of town all conspired to make sure that didn't happen. So, here it is now.

Yet more Access Recreation Day clips have been edited and posted. There are 3 of them here,featuring Cyndy McLean showing me how a bunch of stuff works. We talk about tennis wheelchairs, hand cycles, various attachments that help you use those things, the cost involved and how you may be able to get your hands on some of it so you can try before you buy. Cyndy gives some nice play by play of what she's doing as she demos everything, so you'll be able to get a pretty good idea of what's involved.

At this point I think all that's left are a tour of the Rec Centre where the event was held and recordings of the wheelchair basketball and goalball demonstrations that are going to need some hella editing...poor Carin.

Speaking of Carin, she does a great job with all of this accessibility business in general, and speaking for myself, does a ridiculous amount of work for the Barrier Free Committee, putting some of the others over there to shame. I hope they understand and appreciate what they have in her. The woman's a damn workhorse, and you're lucky she's one of you. Treat her well.

Real-Feeling Unreality

A couple of people who I follow on Twitter were sending this around. I thought I'd link it here. Watch this video, and get an idea of what it feels like to have severe auditory and visual hallucinations.

What uber weirded me out was someone knocked on my actual door at the spot where it was saying "Pizza! Pizza!" and I jumped.

Is that an accurate representation? Or are they being overly dramatic? I can't even imagine actually believing the TV was talking to me like that.

The Hupster Turned 2!

Well holy crap, the huppy is 2. He's 2! I still think about him as a wee tiny baby. I still remember coming to see him when he was only hours old. Now he's 2.

And boy is he learning stuff. He's really really talking. Now when he sees me, he tries to yell out my name, but it sounds more like "Kayin!" But hey, I know he knows it's me. He also recognizes Steve and I in pictures. But when he sees himself, he just says "Baby!" He can't believe that's him. He also likes to sing. If you're not ready to sing "Down by the Bay" for hours, don't sing that around him. He never wants you to stop. He really doesn't want you to stop if you're willing to bounce him while singing it.

It's so cute to watch him and Steve play together. He loves the way Steve's all animated about everything. He especially loves it if Steve pretends to run like him, or sneezes overly dramatically.

He's so cute. He wants to hug everything. He'll just stop and go "Hug." Once he tried to hug a bee. Luckily his mom stopped him before he did. Once, we were in the dollar store, and he decided he wanted to hug a paper moon. I tried to get that one with my phone, but I guess the picture was a fail. Boo! I really wanted a picture of the huppy hugging the moon.

He's being a classic 2-year-old, trying to get into as much trouble as possible. But hey, we've all gotta get through that phase, now don't we? And boy can he motor! And he loves stairs. He'd just love to go up and down stairs all day. I think he prefers them over the elevator, or, what does he say? Ebba ggeeder!

Yup, I think he's a smart one. A smart one who is going to entertain us for years to come! Even when he's super old, he'll still be the huppy to me.

I Had A Good Title For This Post. What Was It Again?

Every now and then, my brain goes on a binge of telling me in my sleep that I'm a failure. First there were these dreams, and then there was this not so kind barrage. Now, here's my brain's new and creative way to make me feel like suck.

First I dreamed that I forgot to call Backpeddling, the bike place that lent us a tandem bike and adult tricycle for Access Recreation Day, thus it didn't show up and I was in big big trouble. I chalked that up to my brain making damn sure that I remembered to call them. Well, it worked.

But the dreams have continued since. I had one where I remembered too late that Trix had a vet appointment and totally missed it. Then, on a different night, I dreamed I came home to my parents' place but didn't pack any food or toys for Trixie, and just remembered this as I walked through the door. And the final in the set, I dreamed I took a bus downtown, but when it arrived downtown, I couldn't remember why on earth I had taken the bus.

So, what's with all the dreams featuring me as forgetful Jones? In real life I don't think I've forgotten anything important, so why is my brain convinced I will?

Dear UFC: Do We Really Need 5 Round Main Events On Every Show?

Going by Twitter and nothing more since I haven't had much of a chance to read anything overly in depth on the subject, people seem pretty happy about the UFC's decision to bump all of the main event fights going forward up to 5 rounds from 3.

Personally, I don't much care for the idea. Maybe it's the wrestling brain in me, but making every main event fight look the same as a title fight diminishes the importance of the championships. Let's face it, not everybody who appears in a main event fight is going to get a title shot. Some guys are just in the main event because somebody has to go on last. Fighting for a title is supposed to be different. It's supposed to be harder, hence why 5 round title matches make sense. I would be fine with this idea if it only applied to fights that would determine the number 1 contender because it would prove a guy could handle the championship rounds, but that's not what this is.

I just don't get how seeing a couple of guys who are nowhere near contending for anything have an average fight that takes longer is going to help anything. Are people really going to buy more pay-per-views or tune into the Fight Night specials in greater numbers because 2 guys get 2 extra rounds to essentially fight over nothing for no reason? I don't think so. The shows that don't sell as well aren't selling poorly because the main events are too short. They're selling poorly because people aren't excited about them. and if people aren't excited about something, the last thing you should be doing is giving them more of it. Sure there are some 3 round fights that you'd love to see go longer, but you never know when that's going to happen. There are also some 5 round affairs that I wish wouldn't have even gotten 3, so it cuts both ways. A longer fight isn't going to always mean a better one.

To me, this is the kind of gimmick you would use in a desperate attempt to prop up a promotion that's failing, and unless there's something somebody's not telling me, the UFC is hardly failing.

I Could Hang Out With The Smart Ass Cripple...If He'd Let Me Find Him That Is

The other day, I linked to the blind guy avoidance techniques on the Smart Ass Cripple's blog. Well, now I've gone back and read everything on that blog...and it's awesome! He does the kind of writing that makes me simultaneously laugh and think. I wish I was that good.

So if you haven't already, head on back to smartasscripple.blogspot.com and read everything. Read about independence sticks and joystick-induced hugs of death and brain injury songbooks and peeing on famous people's lawns and countless other things. It's good for you.

The Guide Pup Grew Up!

Remember back, I think it was last June, when I found the Growing Up Guide Pup Videos? My god it was a year ago today when I found them!

Well, Here's the final episode. It looks like Ricki is way too attracted by squirrels to be a guide dog. But they think she could be placed in another program. So, she was taken to the kennels to see what they could see.

Also, it appears they have not one, but two websites dedicated to Growing up Guide Pup, and they said they'd do another season with another pup. So cruise on by www.growingupguidepup.com and www.GUGP.net and see what you can find. Apparently they have some Ricki swag to sell, and a DVD of Ricki's season of the show.

So this is the season finale, but who knows what the next chapter in Ricki's journey will hold.

I SAID, ONE IS OFTEN ENOUGH!

Here's a nice bit of police blotter goodness from the Marin Scope. What would the crime be, exactly? Maybe we'll find out at the hearing. I'm sorry.

Suspicious Circumstance: Second Street. A caller reported seeing a subject open a bottle of Advil, then begin inserting the pills into his ear. Police searched the area for the subject, but were unable to locate anyone matching the description given by the reporting party.

I Need A Drink. Are Any Of You Bankers?

Commercials drive me friggin nuts!

Just heard one for Laker beer that said "You deserve an easy drinking beer for a hard working price." What? Does that shovel full of marketing horsecrap even mean anything?

Easy drinking beer...for a hard working price.

Let's break this down.

I know what an easy drinking beer is. It's one that goes down smooth and has a nice flavour. That's pretty subjective since there are folks who would put Coors Light in that category, but we'll go with it. If you want to say your beer is easy drinking, to someone out there it probably is.

But what, I ask you, is a hard working price? Have you ever gone shopping, looked at the tag on something and said "boy, this blender sure is priced hardworkingly"? No, you haven't. And neither has anybody else. You know why? Because nobody outside of the Brick Brewing Company marketing department or any of those places who can tie sports together with shitty cars, credit cards and grass seed has ever thought that way.

But wait. Hard work does come up from time to time in the costing conversation, now that I think about it. I'm sure at one time or another you've heard a person say "I put in a lot of overtime to buy that car," or "I saved every penny I had for 7 years so I could own this house." Both examples imply that hard work was probably involved. So following the bouncing ball to its logical resting place, an easy drinking beer at a hard working price is something we all deserve, but will only have if we can get a loan.

Nice work, maroons.

More Access Recreation Day Audio: Me With Janice The SpinFit Lady

What do you know, two of these in one day!

Here's me with Janice, a representative from the fairly new SpinFit program that's run out of St. Joseph’s Health Centre. If the beginning sounds a little messed up, that's because it is. I fucked it up a little the first time and had to fix it on the fly. This, believe it or not, is the result of editing. Maybe you wouldn't have noticed it that much, but it bugs the hell out of me. The rest of the interview, however, is totally fine.

Enjoy The Sunrise

Another of the Access Recreation Day audio bits I did has gone up. You can go here for a quick chat with Sarah from the Sunrise Therapeutic Riding and Learning Centre.

We're getting to the end of the quick interviews, so soon one of us (likely Carin) will have the fun task of editing down the gigantic tours and demonstrations into something kinda sorta manageable. You have a good time with that, small folk.

I Scream, You Scream, I'll Shoot You Dead If We Don't Get Some Goddamn Icecream Over Here

Thank you Joseph Hayes for doing your part to set a good example for the next generation...of criminals who think the world is shitting on them while owing them everything.

According to a police affidavit, Hayes became upset and began yelling at the victim because “Y’all didn’t save my kids no damn ice cream and cake.”

Hayes then left the party and went to his apartment.

According to the affidavit, he returned with a small black handgun tucked into the back of his pants, approached the host, lifted up his shirt and said, “I ain’t scared to go to jail, just take care of my kids."

The host then called police and said she was in fear of her life.

"In fear of her life?" Nice editing, chief.

But back to the story, yes, this happened at a childrens birthday party. And no, says Hayes, that wasn't a gun. It was an object that *looked* like a gun.

Hayes was jailed and his bond was set at $30000. He was scheduled for a chance to tell the look-a-like firearm story in court last week, but at this point I'm not sure how that worked out for him.

Late Breaking News. Very, Very Late

A while ago, Carin and I stopped watching our local CTV News At 6. We've flirted with this idea on and off over the years, but in the end our old person spirits would always win and we'd go back.

The problem with the CTV news isn't that the personalities are bad or that we hate hearing all the stories about war and car accidents or any number of excuses people use for not keeping up with current events. We still keep up with our news all the time. We read it, we watch it, we listen to it. The problem with the CTV news around here is that it's insulting to anyone who knows even the smallest hint of anything about anything.

For instance, watch this video report. It's essentially an advertisement for a technology company. They've chosen the city of Stratford (I was born there in case anybody cares) to test out a pilot project that will let people access the internet via their televisions. It's called ConectTV, which may or may not be the right spelling. I'm spelling it that way until I find out differently for a reason, however.

Does any of this revolutionary technology sound at all familiar? You can use the internet on your TV. You need an ISP, and you'll have to pay for a box that will allow your TV to interface with the net. Yes, unless there's something the news isn't telling me, this is in fact WebTV, only a little faster. All it needs is its own portal to dial into when you start it up and we're completely off to the you ripped off my idea races.

Thank you, CTV News, for bringing me word of this innovation. I can hardly wait for your coverage of the final episode of Cheers and the rise of the Tamagotchi.

Oh No! Sighties Are Trying To Go Stealth!

I remember back a while ago, we had a commenter named Joe Clark who would get all mad if we made a gay joke. "Oh, but if they made a blind joke, you wouldn't be laughing, now would you?" I will answer him by linking to this. And I'm laughing. I'm laughing, and hoping that I'm not one of those irritating blind people he's trying to avoid. But I certainly know we have our fair share of irritating blind folks. Hell, I've tried to sneak past a few of 'em if I could. If I knew the place well, I'd stop using my cane for a few steps and move o so quietly around them. So ha, we do it too!

but at least now if a bunch of unusually-named people start sprouting ordinary names, or my friends learn how to speak with a foreign accent or keep changing their perfume or shoes, I'll know I'm irritating. Maybe I'll be able to learn.

Warning: comments have a captcha. But I used WebVisum just so I could tell him it was funny, and set a few people straight that we use the internet and Narrator is not our primary screen reading solution. Oy!

Sorry, You Can't Have It Your Way

Here comes another guy showing off his whopper at Burger King.

It says here that Joseph Kovaleski would come into a burger king several times, sit in a booth facing employees, and pull out his thing and continually touch it.

He claims it's all lies, and he would never have done such a thing. But then he says a. he doesn't wear underwear and sometimes his genetals just fall out, b. sometimes they get itchy and he has to scratch 'em, and c. Burger King isn't a public place. Ok then. I'm thinking he did it.

I think the girls on his soccer team will be looking at him funny now.

Somebody Was Embracing Ingenuity, But It Sure Wasn't Bank Of America

This is the best thing ever.

Bank of America tries to foreclose on your home. You owe Bank of America 0 dollars and in fact never have owed them more than that because you paid for the house outright. The case goes to court, where you easily win. Bank of America is ordered to pay your legal bills. Five months pass, but there's no sign of any money from Bank of America. You call, you write, you do whatever you can do to get Bank of America's attention, and still...nothing. Having had it up to here or higher, you call in the Sheriff's department, some movers and even bring your lawyer along and since they haven't paid you, you essentially foreclose on the Bank of America branch that started this mess.

Sheriff's deputies, movers, and the Nyergers' attorney went to the bank and foreclosed on it. The attorney gave instructions to to remove desks, computers, copiers, filing cabinets and any cash in the teller's drawers.

After about an hour of being locked out of the bank, the bank manager handed the attorney a check for the legal fees.

That, in a word, is fabulous! It would make my life if things like this became something everybody did. It would be even better if these lending institutions actually investigated things properly before dragging innocent people into court for no good reason and potentially ruining their lives, but hey, we've gotta start small.

Congratulations to the Nyergers family on a job well done, and a good, hearty fuck off to Bank of America.

Vomit Comet, The Mobile Edition

There aren't scoobillions of them coming here, but looking at the stats and seeing how many people are using phones and other portable thingies to piss around on the net these days, it struck me as a worthwhile idea to enable Blogger's new mobile version option. Soooo, everything working as it should, if you come here on a mobile device from now on you should be presented with a massively stripped down version of the site, rather than the gigantic regular one you're used to. You should be able to do this without going to a special address, since I'm told you'll be detected automatically.

If you happen to land here on a phone or an iSomething or anything else you can carry around with you, let me know if this thing sucks or not. Thanks in advance. I hope this makes the site easier for somebody.

Twisted Family Tree View

themesong time.

You know, programming forums make for pretty dry reading most of the time. But every now and then, something like this appears, illustrating that you never know where you might find something entertaining, or sickening, or both of the above.

I am the developer of some family tree software (written in C++ and Qt). I had no problems until one of my customers mailed me a bug report. The problem is that he has two children with his own daughter, and, as a result, he can't use my software because of errors.

Those errors are the result of my various assertions and invariants about the family graph being processed (for example, after walking a cycle, the program states that X can't be both father and grandfather of Y).

How can I resolve those errors without removing all data assertions?

Eeewww.

There were many responses like you would expect, and then, someone who must be part computer, responded with the following.

Maybe next time you'll try a more abstract example. People here can't overlook the incest part and just close it, even if it is a valid question regarding the representation of tree like data.

Maybe I'm too easily amused, but that made me chuckle.

There's Another Spreading Malignancy And It Isn't Cancer

Wow, we have more people pretending they have cancer. Here's Douglas Archie Clark.

This one is extra special for two reasons. First, he managed to con people out of almost a million dollars. Second, he said he was in the military! So, this got the veterans to be pretty upset.

Soon it will be impossible for the real cancer patients to raise money because of these jerks.

His Story Doesn't Stand Up, Although Something Else Does

I know this has been all over the news, but he needs a place up on the blog.

There was an up close and personal picture of a guy's stuff taken and posted to a Twitter account. The owner of the account, a guy, says he was hacked. People don't believe him. His name? Anthony Weiner! Hahahahahaha. I love easy jokes.

This Would Be The Best Drive Ever

Last time I posted something about cars, it involved, as is so often the case around here, things not going well. This one, though, is exactly the opposite.

I'm not generally the type to see one of those hey everybody, look at the blind guy live his life! It's amazing! type stories and actually think it's amazing, but this one, well, it kind of is on a few different levels.

Aaron Prevost being a blind auto mechanic is pretty cool in and of itself, but it doesn't surprise me personally. I know him, he's a friend of the family. He's been taking stuff apart and putting it back together forever, and if it's what you're meant to be good at, blind or not, you're gonna be good at it. The amazing part is that there's a shop owner who's willing to let him be good at it on behalf of his business. People with that much faith in blind folks are sadly hard to find in this world, so I'm happy he found one.

But speaking of faith, here's the part that's truly amazing to me. Aaron, the lucky bastard, got to do laps around Mosport International Raceway in a brand new Porsche! That's a hell of a lot of faith for the guy who owns that thing to have in him, not to mention a hell of a lot of faith you need to have in yourself. I've driven things around before and even though it's always been fun, I'm not a fraid to admit that at times I thought I was going to kill myself or somebody else...and that's at nowhere close to racing speed! As cool as it sounds sitting here, I'm sure I'd be shitting bricks if I ever got the chance to try that.

Way to go man, way to go. I'm happy for ya, even though you did make fun of me at the goalball thing in Guelph last week, ya prick.

Skimming Scum!

This morning, all seemed right with the world. I was tickin' along like usual. Who knew I would pick up the phone, and a voice that sounded like RealSpeak Tom would flip my world on its head for a while. Thankfully, things turned out pretty well.

When I picked up the phone, a voice said it was from TD loss prevention, and they needed to speak with me. It did identify me by name. It told me to press 1. There was no way in hell I was going to press 1. After writing this post, I could not possibly press 1. At least at the end, the robot said if I wasn't comfortable with this call, feel free to call Easy Line. So, while RealSpeak loss prevention thing yammered in one ear, I called the real easy line with my cell phone. And yes, in fact, Loss Prevention wanted to talk to me.

As I was transferred over, all I could think was "Loss prevention...but...I didn't shoplift anything. And if I did, why would the bank know about it or care?" I was very confused. Eventually, they told me that my debit card had been skimmed, and someone had the big number and my pin and tried to take out 200 dollars in Las Vegas. But I guess something about it raised flags and they didn't get a cent.

The poor lady. Her job must suck. I really try not to swear when talking to professional folks, but this woman got an onslaught of "Holy shit! Son of a bitch!" and I'm sure that's on the mild side of things she hears. It was kind of funny. I would say "Son of a bitch! Um..er...I'm sorry." I was in such shock.

It's a really weird feeling when you can pull out your bank card and hold it in your hand, but someone has stolen it from you. I don't know how to explain how freaky that is. But on the positive side, they didn't take any money. Someone or something didn't think that transaction looked right at all, so blocked it. I have a new bank card and a new number to memorize, and that's it. I didn't lose anything.

What's doubly weird is I haven't been anywhere unusual. This means that a place I regularly frequent has been sabotaged, or has someone less than honest working there. I think that's even freakier than the idea that my card had been stolen without leaving my pocket. The folks at loss prevention said they will be investigating and will try and find it, but it could have happened any time within the last six months.

So things ended quite happily for me. I can sigh a sigh of relief...for now. But I also wanted to pass on two little thoughts about Mr. loss prevention bot.

First, it was way too long before the machine started talking to me. I was just about to hang up the phone because I thought it was a telemarketer. Rexall's prescription reminder thingy talks pretty quickly after you pick up the phone. TD needs to make the lag shorter if they can.

Second, it would be better if the bot's message was simply "Loss prevention needs to talk to you. Please call Easy Line, or visit your local branch." Getting people to be ok with pressing 1 because the machine said so is setting them up for other scammers to exploit them. When it comes to banking and personal info, the person should call the entity, in my opinion.

And according to the folks at the bank, they have had to deal with quite a few skimming victims lately. So, everybody, watch your bank balances and stuff. Nobody should be able to go on a gambling spree on your dime.

Can I Use This Title Without Paying Somebody?

This is the kind of stupid crap that makes me never again want to buy anything with electronics in it.

If you can read 10 physical gestures that have been patented and then explain to me how the world's patent systems aren't broken perhaps beyond repair, I'll buy you a beer. Honestly, I will...on one condition. What you're saying has to convince me. And when we're at the point where somebody can own a patent on what boils down pretty much to shaking a phone or moving your arm in a certain direction, you've got an uphill climb to say the least.

7. Shaking your mobile device
Ever get pissed off at your phone and shake it up and down until it reboots? You could be benefitting from a patent infringement! Intellectual Ventures owns a very broad patent on moving your mobile device around (basically, shaking your phone). If any company dares to create a product which relies on somebody shaking a mobile device to reboot, they'd better cough up some cash to license this gesture from Intellectual Ventures.

Password Haystack Calculator

Have you ever wondered just how long it would take someone to crack your passwords for your email, online logins, etc. if they were just guessing all combinations of letters and numbers? Well, here's a calculator that can give you an idea. It looks like it's by the Shields up guy, so I might believe what it says.

Hmmm. I think I have to change a few passwords.

Even If It Was Standing Still, He Still Wouldn't Be Quicker Than That Car

You hear stories all the time about people running onto the field at sporting events, but somebody doing it during a Formula One exhibition? That's a new one. And yes, the obvious reason *why* that's a new one applies.

Formula One driver Sebastien Buemi was in Japan at a Red Bull F1 Exhibition when a fan attempted to jump over his moving race car with predictably disastrous results. Luckily for both parties involved, the young racing driver was only traveling 30 MPH when the unidentified man decided to jump.

Unfortunately, the man suffered only minor injuries and was able to pick himself up and walk away following his act of great genius.

There's a video, but it's silent. Sorry, blind people. For the rest of you, here's what the world's newest Mensa member looks like.

Angry Squirrel

I got this emailed to me the other day, and I couldn't stop laughing. In explaining it to Steve, I just couldn't do it justice. I still can't decide if the reason for all the laughing was because it was that funny or because I was still recovering from some weird flu and was way too easily amused.

Angry squirrel

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect.

I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!"

The leap was nothing short of spectacular... He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing... I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque.

This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in . well .. I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle...my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment), so her front end started to drop.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand ... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked ... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of ... so to speak.

Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car. I heard screams. They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really... Except for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street, aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car. So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing.

The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car but it was all his.

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of Band-Aids.

Enabling Garden Audio

Another bit of Access Recreation Day audio found its way onto the internet last night.

This time, I spend a little over 4 minutes talking to Lea Tran from the Guelph Enabling Garden, which is a pretty neat place. She talks a bit about the accessibility features that make planting things and tending to them possible, as well as a few of the different events and workshops that go on there on a regular basis.

You can read a bit more and download the chat round yonder.

And don't forget to visit the Barrier Free website, follow them on Twitter or both to hear these things as they come out as well as learn more about what they're doing and what's going on in the world of disability type things.

Dogs Do Not Go In Trunks

Update: The cabby's license has been revoked. Still haven't heard anything concrete about what has happened with the woman. I heard rumblings that the school, it appears to be GDB, is investigating. But they're just rumours.

I was hoping to come back to the blog with a happy bouncy woo wee ha ha kind of post. Uh, not so much. Looks like I come back with snarling teeth and claws.

I'll start by linking to the article. Service Dog Forced To Ride In Taxi Trunk

I'll let you process that for a moment.

My first thought was this cabby had done something, physically separated handler from dog and placed the dog in the trunk or something. It had to be pretty damn crazy.

Turns out that Judie Brown was going to be late for an appointment, so when the driver said either you put the dog in the trunk or get another cab, she chose column a. And this wasn't like a big hatchback thinggy with a sealed tailgate or the pulled down backseats inside the main part of the car. It was a trunk. Ya know, tight, dark, not much air, all that stuff. A trunk, where you would stow a suitcase or some groceries. Then she cried about how now she's afraid to walk with her dog, and she feels she lost her independence.

Let's make one thing crystal clear. If you aren't a long time reader, I have a guide dog of my very own. So you can't tell me "you don't know how it feels." I do, quite a lot, and this is why this story makes my blood boil. Part of getting a guide or service dog involves knowing that you have to look out for the dog's interests. You're a team. The dog looks out for you, you look out for the dog. And at the end of the day, that dog needs you more than you need the dog. If the dog decides it doesn't want to work anymore, you can retire the dog or use the cane. If you decide to throw the dog in a trunk, it has no voice and noone to speak up for it. It is completely dependent on you to do the right thing.

I wracked my brain, trying to think of a circumstance where I would comply with putting Trix in the trunk. I had a hard time coming up with one. I have had a cab driver nearly refuse me service, and Steve and I have nearly been stranded downtown because of a cab shortage, but in neither circumstance could I say "Sure, cabby guy, let's put Trixie in the trunk." Never, ever, ever! I would call a friend or another cab before doing this. The only totally extreme circumstance would be if someone had a knife to my throat and someone said I can save you and the dog but the dog has to go in the trunk. Then maybe I would go with it for a block or so...maybe...ish. But that's a pretty extreme circumstance.

So what if she had an appointment? Doesn't she have enough problem-solving skills to call the place where she has an appointment and tell them the situation? Even if she doesn't have a phone, I'm sure she was near a building with functioning telephone service.

Then this woman has the sheer unmitigated gall to cry about how she's afraid to walk with her dog and she's lost her independence. Ok lady, your independence, or this dog's well-being. I think if the dog could talk, he would question his safety with this woman, and he would wonder what she would do to him next. Can he trust that he will get food and water? Can he trust that she will not put him in harm's way to save her own skin? Now, comparing the two, who has the bigger complaint?

And what in the name of all that's holy did she think calling the media about this would do? Did she think she would gain sympathy? I'm sorry, but anyone with any sense has more sympathy for the dog than her. Sure the cabby was wrong for telling her to do that, but she is triple wrong for excepting his direction! At the end of the day, she is responsible for that dog, not the cabby.

I hope the school from which she got this dog reads this story, and is on her doorstep post haste. This is absolutely disgusting.

What, Was The Pleasing Pedophile Taken?

Seriously, are criminals even trying anymore?


This is 33-year-old German Paz, who has just been sentenced to 15 years in a federal prison. His crime? Carrying on an online relationship with a 13-year-old girl. To his credit, he somehow got away with it until the girl got a little older and a little wiser and decided hey, let's call the FBI and rat him out.

But here's the problem. Let's say you're wanting to snag yourself some fresh meat. Unless you're doing it as a cry for help and looking to be arrested, you're going to want to make yourself and your intentions appear anything but obvious. So when you're deciding on your chat handle, why in the name of Jesus Christ in a fucking hotdog cart would you choose to go by The Delightful Deviant? No really, why?

I said to his credit he got away with it, but maybe he doesn't deserve any. Perhaps we need to dole out blame, but where to put it? We know nothing else about Mr. Paz here other than he's not all that great at nicknames. But with that as our starting point, isn't it safe to assume that there were almost surely signs of trouble? Who failed in the observation department here? But maybe he's an evil genius. Maybe being so overt helped him out because a lot of people don't realize that the name you choose can say a lot about who you are. I don't know and I probably never will, but however you choose to look at this...The Delightful Deviant? That just has bad idea written all over it.

Good Luck Charms Just Aren't Enough For Some People Anymore

I'm not sure if this is a Russian thing, an internet thing or simply a dumbass thing, but apparently burying yourself under ground for a night is a thing. And according to the BBC, it's a thing that won't bring you good luck or cure your fear of death, unless your definition of either of those things involveswaking up dead.

A Russian man has died after persuading a friend to bury him alive for a night, hoping it would bring him "good luck".

The victim dug a hole in a garden in the eastern city of Blagoveshchensk and climbed into an improvised coffin, with holes for air pipes, taking a mobile phone and a bottle of water with him.

His friend covered the coffin with earth and then left, after the buried man phoned to say he was fine.

The next morning, he returned to find his friend dead, investigators said.

The 35-year-old victim had believed that burying himself alive for a night would bring him luck the rest of his life.

I hope he found some spare change or a stick of gum down there before he kicked. If not he'd have probably died feeling like he didn't have much luck left to live for, and that would be sad...or something.

The BBC's Steve Rosenberg, in Moscow, says it is not the first time this has happened in Russia.

Last summer a man in the north-western Vologda region persuaded his friend to bury him in the ground - to help him overcome his fear of death.

He was found dead an hour and a half later, crushed by the weight of the earth.

Sure, but was he frightened?

I really should stop making fun of these poor guys before my mouth digs me a hole I can't get out of. I'm sorry, that wasn't nice of me at all. I feel like I'm just piling on at this point. Oh gees, there I go again. Seriously, this time I'm out...but not of oxygen.

I See Dead People. They're In The Seat Next To Me

Wow. Just when I was starting to think that this parents passing out and leaving their kids unattended in dangerous circumstances thing had topped out withthis family outing, along comes Jessica Ockman to trump the hell out of it.

Deputies called to the scene because of Ockman's collapse walked out to her car, which was parked at one of the fuel pumps, and found Ockman's son along with the body of 22-year-old Shelby Fleming of Lafourche Parish.

Fleming was pronounced dead at the scene. Her cause of death is unclassified pending the outcome of toxicology tests.

Ockman is not being charged in connection with Fleming's death, which investigators have said was not the result of a criminal act.

Deputies found Ockman unresponsive on the restroom floor along with a lighter and a spoon, Fortunato said. They also recovered a white plastic box containing marijuana that she'd thrown into a nearby garbage can.

Yes, mommy dearest here left her not quite 2-year-old son in the car with an expired pal for over an hour while she took some happy meds and went nighty night in the washroom.

The baby was taken to a local hospital for observation, but no further information on his condition is available as I write this. I imagine he'll be ok, at least physically. Mentally is anyone's guess, and I'm glad I'm not going to be the one stuck with those therapy bills.

Ockman was booked into jail on a variety of charges, but later released without bond due to prison overcrowding. I'd love to see a list of the people they kept instead of her. I'll bet a few of them aren't nearly as dangerous.

My Talk With A Wheels In Action Organizer

I love many things in this life. Two of those things happen to be plugging things I'm involved in in any way and easy blog content. So let's scratch both of those itches at once, shall we?

As you may recall, last Thursday was Access Recreation Day, and Carin had a pretty big hand in putting it together. There were a few folks taking pictures throughout the day, but since pictures don't work for everybody and because who doesn't like a little extra promotion, we thought it would be cool to get some audio recordings of various things. So my job was running around and talking to a bunch of the different people who were there. I didn't get everybody, but there's a nice selection. I also went on a tour of the building and managed to record the wheelchair basketball and goalball demos. All of this stuff will be slowly released in the next little while, in no particular order.

The first clip has gone up, and it's me talking to a fellow involved in putting together this weekend's Guelph Wheels In Action event. You can read more about what's going on and download the mp3 here.

I'll post here to point you in the direction of new audio as it's added to the Barrier Free site, but if you'd like to use a system that works much quicker than waiting for my lazy arse to get around to it, follow GuelphBFC on Twitter.

Steve On Stop Calling

A couple of weeks ago, a reporter from the Guelph Mercury called our house looking for me. That's not something that happens every day, so as I walked to the phone my mind raced through the last little while, trying to remember if I'd done anything stupid lately. Luckily, it turned out I hadn't, even though Cuban rum is powerful stuff.

Drew Halfnight was working on a series of stories on the state of Guelph's transit system and wanted to interview me based on a letter I wrote a couple of years ago to see if anything had changed since then. I'm pretty sure that letter would be this one, all about the lack of stop calling in this town.

So has anything changed? The short answer is no. Drivers still don't call the stops and the city still hasn't bothered installing the sort of electronic announcers that so many other cities are getting.

But the slightly longer answer is not yet. According to the article, we should have those by the fall. I'll believe that when I step onto a bus and hear them for myself, because we've been fed the they're coming soon line more than once since the things were mandated in Ontario and they're still not here.

By the way, this part of the story made me want to punch things.

Today, Guelph’s official line is that it has complied too. Michael Anders, general manager of community connectivity and transit, said drivers were asked to call out stops since that human rights order came down. But some drivers don’t do it, Anders hastened to add, since they feel it’s the city’s responsibility to put in electronic stop-calling.

“It is a sticky point,” Anders said. “Certain promises had been made by certain city staff, and the union was holding us to that.”

Amalgamated Transit Union Local 1189 president Gary Daters declined to comment on the issue.

One driver, Jim Hanlon, said the idea had been “laid to rest” since drivers didn’t want to call out the stops and the city couldn’t afford the technology. “We haven’t been doing it, and it’s just kind of been let go,” he said.

The city has complied with the order just because it asked nicely? Guelph Transit must own a much different dictionary than the one I'm using, because we have vastly differing opinions on what comply means. If I kindly request that you please don't hit me with that shovel you're holding and you go ahead and crack me one, have you complied? That would be no. Maybe the city asked the drivers to tell me where I am, but 99 times out of 100 that doesn't happen. Once in a blue moon does not equal compliance, at least not to the people it matters to most.

And no, the idea hasn't been let go or laid to rest. It's just been stalled for the last 5 years because the union and the city have chosen not to concern themselves with small, unimportant things such as customer benefit and improving the rider experience.

The article is here if you'd like to see what I said. Not everything made it in, but he did a good job of capturing the most important things and looking at the issue from all sides.

And now all we can do is wait for the fall. Will we finally get what we've been promised? I'm not holding my breath, but I hope that's a mistake.

If These Walls Could Talk, They'd Have Me Arrested

I have to wonder if Richard R. Vermalyea was never exposed to hide and seek or crime shows as a child. Had he been, odds are the fugitive from justice thing may have worked out better for him than it did.

Among the lessons he doesn't appear to have learned about being on the run is that not only do *you* have to lay low, but your voice does, too.

The Wicomico County Sheriff's Office said a man who talked loudly in his motel room about being a fugitive was arrested after other guests turned him in.

It happened early Tuesday at the Traveler's Motel in Delmar.

Deputies said guests there heard a man yelling during a phone conversation that there was a warrant for his arrest and called police.

But there wasn't just one warrant out for him, there were two. One was a failure to appear and the other a probation violation. He's now in jail on both of them, and at this point we don't know if he's worked up the nerve to make his one phone call.

Photo Op

As much as I'd like to take credit for it, this one's not my fault. Blame Brad.

Got a phone call from a mate last night. He had just got back from a trip to London, and told me that whilst there he'd acquired a brand new top-of-the-range camera absolutely free.

I asked, "Where did you get that?"

He said, "I met a very nice family from Japan whilst I was in Trafalgar Square, and was just passing the time of day with them. After a few minutes I was about to go when they asked me if I would mind taking a photograph of them, and handed me a camera. They lined up as a group against one of the lions and were all smiling at the camera. Just as I was about to click the button I shouted to them, 'WAVE!', and they all rushed past me and I never saw them again."

Access Recreation Day: It's...Today!

Remember back when I posted about Access Recreation Day? Remember how it was off in the future? Well, it's today! The day has arrived, and we watch all our hard work pay off.

It looks like we're going to have a fun day. We've got 9 organizations setting up booths, an information table with brochures and stuff from other organizations, tours of West End Community Centre with accessibility in mind, live demonstrations of Goalball and wheelchair basketball and an opportunity for people to give it a try, lots of neat equipment courtesy of Cyndy McLean and Backpeddling Bicycle Emporium. We've got it all. Now we just need lots of enthusiastic audience members!

Steve will be there as well, and he's going to run around and hopefully get some good recordings from the organizations who have set up booths, and he's going to try and record some Goalball, which I'm going to try and play. Oh my my. I haven't played Goalball in years. Ah, it'll be an adventure. Plus, I'll be tweeting on behalf of the committee. Maybe I'll be able to slip some tweets in from my personal account.

So, if you live in or near Guelph, come on out to Access Recreation Day. We would love to see you, and you never know what you might learn!