I am back. I wish I were buzzing right now. That way I could shut off my brain. It is a sad thing when the brain keeps spinning. Well, that is my brain right now. A brain on drugs does not spin, that is all that I have to say.
Can somebody tell me what I am supposed to do with Facebook? I know, I know...social networking. It is all great. Maintain contact with people without actually having to speak to them. That has some good points yet as much as I loathe the phone, I like the actual conversation. My dislike of the phone is two-fold. One, I am a people reader, so in a face-to-face conversation, I pick up on all those cool visual clues that are missed on the phone and even with a webcam. Two, I am easily distracted, so that without somebody in front of me, requiring my attention, my eyes and mind starts to wander while on the phone. Then somehow, I stop listening or miss things. It is too damn embarrassing to fess up to that (I do not want people to think they bore me, even when they do. Then again, if they are bores, and I know more than a few, they are fucking oblivious to the disinterest of their listener/victim, so why am I trying to be nice). I do not want folks to think that I was not listening.
I guess it is better that they think I am an asshole or have some sort of dementia when I cannot recall what they said to me. That has to work better than the truth. What do you say?
I figured you would say that. You are an asshole, so that is what an asshole would say in those circumstances. There, I wrote it. Now, the whole world, er, the few insane enough to be here anyway, knows it too. How do you like them apples?
That is like the self-loathing arguments I have with myself. Is that not fun? Well, I am done, thanks for stopping by. Ciao!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Thanks for stopping by, but I got nothing
I am back. There is nothing in the news to make fun of. The muse still does not speak. What is up with all this?
Somebody get back to me on this one, will ya?
Ciao!
Somebody get back to me on this one, will ya?
Ciao!
Monday, January 28, 2008
Emails from the dead?
I am back. This is a short "how do you do"-type of post. I was thinking I am on drugs. I get an email yesterday and it came from me.
What the fuck?!! I do not recall sending myself an email. Maybe, it was my grandfather, whose name I share and who died in 1943, sending something from another world. Now, I am thinking how would he have access to a computer and internet connection in that other world. I am also thinking that he died well before the use of computers, how did he get to be so tech savvy. Then, I wonder, if my grandfather is sending me emails from the grave, then why the hell is my father, who used a computer and knew me, not sending me emails from the grave. What kind of father is he? Won't send his eldest messages from the beyond.
You can see how I would be in mid-freakout. Then I read the message and it is addressed from a friend WO. WO and I go way back, with connections to grade school, junior high, high school, university and our fraternal affiliation. He is looking to get us out for an evening of alcohol consumption. I am in by the way. Yet, he did it all under the cloak of my name.
There was a reply by JLC as to me sending things out. I was just as shocked, no more so since I thought the dead were trying to contact me (they like their own kind I hear) by that. How WO hijacked my email and stuff, I will never know. He is one crafty dude. I mean, one minute he is growing algae and studying it and then he is hijacking people's email addresses. I wonder if he was able to lift my credit cards. Good on him if he did.
Well, that is all I have to say. We still have to come up with a date that works for us all, but that will come. Stu will be there, too, unless he punks out....or is afraid of Willie. Ciao!
What the fuck?!! I do not recall sending myself an email. Maybe, it was my grandfather, whose name I share and who died in 1943, sending something from another world. Now, I am thinking how would he have access to a computer and internet connection in that other world. I am also thinking that he died well before the use of computers, how did he get to be so tech savvy. Then, I wonder, if my grandfather is sending me emails from the grave, then why the hell is my father, who used a computer and knew me, not sending me emails from the grave. What kind of father is he? Won't send his eldest messages from the beyond.
You can see how I would be in mid-freakout. Then I read the message and it is addressed from a friend WO. WO and I go way back, with connections to grade school, junior high, high school, university and our fraternal affiliation. He is looking to get us out for an evening of alcohol consumption. I am in by the way. Yet, he did it all under the cloak of my name.
There was a reply by JLC as to me sending things out. I was just as shocked, no more so since I thought the dead were trying to contact me (they like their own kind I hear) by that. How WO hijacked my email and stuff, I will never know. He is one crafty dude. I mean, one minute he is growing algae and studying it and then he is hijacking people's email addresses. I wonder if he was able to lift my credit cards. Good on him if he did.
Well, that is all I have to say. We still have to come up with a date that works for us all, but that will come. Stu will be there, too, unless he punks out....or is afraid of Willie. Ciao!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Birthdays, Rodents and the Year of the Rat
I am back. Did I tell you that the Lad turned 11 last week? Well, he did. We have ditched the idea of the birthday party. We did that last year. The year before, when he turned 9, he had a sleepover party. The Wife did most, all, of the work. I recall hiding out in the bedroom watching the Raptors play the Sonics in Seattle. It was fun.
The biggest bummer was that the next evening was my first rat sighting in the house. I saw that bastard run under the door to our washing machine and into the hole that was there. Since we replaced the washing machine, I have since plugged that hole with steel wool. I am thinking that I would like a suit made from steel wool. It would be great winter or summer. It would breath in the summer and keep me warm in the winter. What the fuck am I going on about?
Given the fact that I have poisoned many a rat, I know from the smell and lack of sounds, and removed a dead one from under our fridge, that that problem seems to have been corrected. In fact, I have not heard any sounds from the basement bathroom in a long while. I always have my ears open but I may have done the job with the number of mice I caught and killed in 2007. I am thinking that 2007, and not 2008, was the Year of the Rat/Mouse. Then again, I would not compare mice to rats.
Mice are smaller and much less scary. Rats are big and ugly. Also they tend to be smarter than mice. In any event, I do not want either in my home. I do not want squirrels either. In fact, my home should be a rodent free zone.
How did I get on this rodent topic? I just wanted to mention that in lieu of birthday parties, the Lad has been getting good gifts. Last year it was the iPod. This year it was the Wii. That thing is so much fun. I suck at the golf, but rather enjoyed the boxing. I caught the Lad playing NBA Basketball 2008. That was cool, watching him go through the shooting motion to shoot. That is a great level of interactivity that was missing from the XBox. I just do not know what he will do with those 50 or so X Box games that he has.
Well, I am done. Ciao!
The biggest bummer was that the next evening was my first rat sighting in the house. I saw that bastard run under the door to our washing machine and into the hole that was there. Since we replaced the washing machine, I have since plugged that hole with steel wool. I am thinking that I would like a suit made from steel wool. It would be great winter or summer. It would breath in the summer and keep me warm in the winter. What the fuck am I going on about?
Given the fact that I have poisoned many a rat, I know from the smell and lack of sounds, and removed a dead one from under our fridge, that that problem seems to have been corrected. In fact, I have not heard any sounds from the basement bathroom in a long while. I always have my ears open but I may have done the job with the number of mice I caught and killed in 2007. I am thinking that 2007, and not 2008, was the Year of the Rat/Mouse. Then again, I would not compare mice to rats.
Mice are smaller and much less scary. Rats are big and ugly. Also they tend to be smarter than mice. In any event, I do not want either in my home. I do not want squirrels either. In fact, my home should be a rodent free zone.
How did I get on this rodent topic? I just wanted to mention that in lieu of birthday parties, the Lad has been getting good gifts. Last year it was the iPod. This year it was the Wii. That thing is so much fun. I suck at the golf, but rather enjoyed the boxing. I caught the Lad playing NBA Basketball 2008. That was cool, watching him go through the shooting motion to shoot. That is a great level of interactivity that was missing from the XBox. I just do not know what he will do with those 50 or so X Box games that he has.
Well, I am done. Ciao!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Heath is dead. Stick some Velcro on his ass!
I am back. Okay, Heath Ledger is dead. I guess that ends the speculation of Brokeback Mountain II. It is sad, in a way. I am just shocked that he dies and Britney continues to live/exist/fuck up. It makes no sense.
It does, now that I think about it. She is a survivor. Like a cockroach--I am thinking that is something she would really like, I mean, it has a cock and it is a roach. She can kill two birds with one stone---get high and get off. Hey, that gives me an idea. Be right back.
I am back and I feel much better. My body felt alive. I felt connected with the universe. Then I came. I am so fucking relaxed right now.
I know, I am sharing WAY too much. That is what happens on a slow news day. Heath Ledger this. John Ferguson Junior that. What is a smart ass to do?
Not much. I do have to say that FIL has been in fine form. He keeps sliding out of his wheelchair. The man is absolutely no help to himself. It is very sad and yet kind of funny. He had a wheelchair assessment and needs a custom chair. I say we should strap some velcro to his ass and back and stick him to the fucking chair. Then again, I am cruel, or so I have been told.
The problem is, at least to me, what if he sees somebody on a ventilator. He is going to feel like a sucker for breathing on his own, then give up, so he gets hooked up to something that will breath for him. That is how it worked with him, always finding somebody who would do things for him, like another mother. MIL had become a mother to him and not a wife--very sad, and now the Wife is like his mother.
What can you do? Anybody know where I can get me some of that industrial Velcro? I feel an experiment a brewing here.
Ciao!
It does, now that I think about it. She is a survivor. Like a cockroach--I am thinking that is something she would really like, I mean, it has a cock and it is a roach. She can kill two birds with one stone---get high and get off. Hey, that gives me an idea. Be right back.
I am back and I feel much better. My body felt alive. I felt connected with the universe. Then I came. I am so fucking relaxed right now.
I know, I am sharing WAY too much. That is what happens on a slow news day. Heath Ledger this. John Ferguson Junior that. What is a smart ass to do?
Not much. I do have to say that FIL has been in fine form. He keeps sliding out of his wheelchair. The man is absolutely no help to himself. It is very sad and yet kind of funny. He had a wheelchair assessment and needs a custom chair. I say we should strap some velcro to his ass and back and stick him to the fucking chair. Then again, I am cruel, or so I have been told.
The problem is, at least to me, what if he sees somebody on a ventilator. He is going to feel like a sucker for breathing on his own, then give up, so he gets hooked up to something that will breath for him. That is how it worked with him, always finding somebody who would do things for him, like another mother. MIL had become a mother to him and not a wife--very sad, and now the Wife is like his mother.
What can you do? Anybody know where I can get me some of that industrial Velcro? I feel an experiment a brewing here.
Ciao!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
A late birthday shout out!
I am back. I forgot to give a birthday send out to the good doctor yesterday. It was his birthday and I did call and leave him a message on his machine. I know he is busy as his house sale closes this week, I think. He and the family are moving up north to the burbs. I will never see him again. I get shaky going up north these days. I do not belong downtown or in the suburbs. I am thinking that I just do not belong.
The good doctor's new house is not ready, or built, yet. They are moving in, for a while, with his outlaws. I am guessing he will be sleeping at the office an awful lot. Oh well, as I said, he is moving north, so I can see him giving up his midtown office (near my home and old store, actually) and being full out suburb dude. Not for me. Little boxes made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
I do have to get going. I have to get out in the slop and snow. I am not looking forward to the drive home. Then again, I may be exaggerating things, as I have not been outside since about nine this morning, so I do not know how things are out there. Ugly, I bet, but that may just be all the people.
On that happy note, have a nice time doing what ever it is you are doing or going to do. In fact, fuck somebody, anybody, for me. That includes Stu, too. Ciao!
The good doctor's new house is not ready, or built, yet. They are moving in, for a while, with his outlaws. I am guessing he will be sleeping at the office an awful lot. Oh well, as I said, he is moving north, so I can see him giving up his midtown office (near my home and old store, actually) and being full out suburb dude. Not for me. Little boxes made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
I do have to get going. I have to get out in the slop and snow. I am not looking forward to the drive home. Then again, I may be exaggerating things, as I have not been outside since about nine this morning, so I do not know how things are out there. Ugly, I bet, but that may just be all the people.
On that happy note, have a nice time doing what ever it is you are doing or going to do. In fact, fuck somebody, anybody, for me. That includes Stu, too. Ciao!
Monday, January 21, 2008
The drapes do not match the carpet
I am back. This could be an embarrassing post. Then again, I do not care. I went to work out yesterday. As usual, I was struck by something. I had been struck by it on myself, but this other dude made things so clear for me.
How come the drapes do not match the carpet? My hair is a lot more gray than it was 10 years ago. I can live with that. Of course, I could, like an old, and I do mean old, customer of mine, let my hair grow long, die it black, put it in a small pony tail and grow a goatee and dye that too. I would look like a freak, but that would be my own business.
Anyway, the hair on my head and, slowly it seems, chest, is going gray. My pubic hair has not gone gray. I have not noticed any gray pubes. What is up with that?
The point was really brought into my head yesterday at Mayfair. I arrive and start getting ready to work out. I am in the change room when I noticed a dude with white hair. He seemed to be about my age, maybe a bit older, but his hair was more salt than pepper. He was naked and I could not help notice his pubic bush. It was brown. I think it was the contrast that jumped out at me (fuck, that had better have been contrast and not something else).
Now, I know what you are thinking. Mad man, what are you doing looking at another dude's pubes? If you are looking at his pubes, then you cannot help but look at his junk, either. Well, to the second part, I really did not notice his junk. It could have been too well hidden in his forest of dark pubes. To the first, the contrast could not be missed. It was like trying not to look at the sun. It could not be done.
I just wanted to know what was up with differential coloring of head and pubic hair in aging people. Please let me know. Ciao!
How come the drapes do not match the carpet? My hair is a lot more gray than it was 10 years ago. I can live with that. Of course, I could, like an old, and I do mean old, customer of mine, let my hair grow long, die it black, put it in a small pony tail and grow a goatee and dye that too. I would look like a freak, but that would be my own business.
Anyway, the hair on my head and, slowly it seems, chest, is going gray. My pubic hair has not gone gray. I have not noticed any gray pubes. What is up with that?
The point was really brought into my head yesterday at Mayfair. I arrive and start getting ready to work out. I am in the change room when I noticed a dude with white hair. He seemed to be about my age, maybe a bit older, but his hair was more salt than pepper. He was naked and I could not help notice his pubic bush. It was brown. I think it was the contrast that jumped out at me (fuck, that had better have been contrast and not something else).
Now, I know what you are thinking. Mad man, what are you doing looking at another dude's pubes? If you are looking at his pubes, then you cannot help but look at his junk, either. Well, to the second part, I really did not notice his junk. It could have been too well hidden in his forest of dark pubes. To the first, the contrast could not be missed. It was like trying not to look at the sun. It could not be done.
I just wanted to know what was up with differential coloring of head and pubic hair in aging people. Please let me know. Ciao!
Friday, January 18, 2008
The Lad Turns 11
I am back. I know I have been sporadic in my posting but between time constraints and the lack of a workable muse, it has been a struggle. Here I am with very little to rant about today. That is today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring as I go amongst the people.
I do have have to send out the most sincere birthday greetings to the Lad. It is his 11th birthday. How he got stuck with a father like me, I do not know. It was one big karmic screw job.
Now for your ADD moment. Does Dr. Phil still have a talk show that airs on television? It seems his attempt to "help" Britney Spears may have landed him in some trouble. I am not sure why that is. The moment he took the microphone and had a show aired, he stopped being a psychologist and became a circus emcee. He is no better than Jerry Springer, so why are people trying to hold him to a higher standard.
Just because he has his PhD in psychology, does not mean he is practicing when he is on the air, or trying to drum up whacko guests for his show. He has a gut to feed and that means ratings. Poor Britney cannot get anything right and the good doctor, if he really is a doctor, will only help himself. Then again, Britney has to admit to herself that she needs help before anything with her will improve. Then again, who the fuck cares? I know that I do not.
Back to the important things in life. The Lad is 11. I recall posting on his 10th birthday last year (kind of redundant to mention that what the hell) and going into the story of his birth. I will not belabour, that is a pretty funny term since labour is what the Wife went through, the post with a rehash. I will say that today is much warmer than it was when the Lad was born.
That was one motherfucking cold ass day-night-day-night deal back then. It was cold going to the hospital, cold going home, cold going back, cold going for a drink after, cold going home and cold coming back the next morning. How is that for a memory?
No, it is all good. I am going to go home now and have dinner with family, my brother in law and the Wife's aunt and uncle. What fun this is going to be! This is where I really miss MIL. It would have been a Friday night dinner with the Lad's birthday all rolled into one. I miss her presence and the Lad her presents, not her cooking.
Well, I am going to run. Have a super weekend. Ciao!
I do have have to send out the most sincere birthday greetings to the Lad. It is his 11th birthday. How he got stuck with a father like me, I do not know. It was one big karmic screw job.
Now for your ADD moment. Does Dr. Phil still have a talk show that airs on television? It seems his attempt to "help" Britney Spears may have landed him in some trouble. I am not sure why that is. The moment he took the microphone and had a show aired, he stopped being a psychologist and became a circus emcee. He is no better than Jerry Springer, so why are people trying to hold him to a higher standard.
Just because he has his PhD in psychology, does not mean he is practicing when he is on the air, or trying to drum up whacko guests for his show. He has a gut to feed and that means ratings. Poor Britney cannot get anything right and the good doctor, if he really is a doctor, will only help himself. Then again, Britney has to admit to herself that she needs help before anything with her will improve. Then again, who the fuck cares? I know that I do not.
Back to the important things in life. The Lad is 11. I recall posting on his 10th birthday last year (kind of redundant to mention that what the hell) and going into the story of his birth. I will not belabour, that is a pretty funny term since labour is what the Wife went through, the post with a rehash. I will say that today is much warmer than it was when the Lad was born.
That was one motherfucking cold ass day-night-day-night deal back then. It was cold going to the hospital, cold going home, cold going back, cold going for a drink after, cold going home and cold coming back the next morning. How is that for a memory?
No, it is all good. I am going to go home now and have dinner with family, my brother in law and the Wife's aunt and uncle. What fun this is going to be! This is where I really miss MIL. It would have been a Friday night dinner with the Lad's birthday all rolled into one. I miss her presence and the Lad her presents, not her cooking.
Well, I am going to run. Have a super weekend. Ciao!
Monday, January 14, 2008
The big 500
I am back. It is bad enough that I reference other things in my postings and life, now I am referencing my referencing board. In any event, I, and this little thing I call my blog has been in existence for close to 3 years. This post is my 500th.
I should have some sort of party or quiz you all on the previous 499 posts just to see if you were listening, er retaining your reading. I would not do that y'all....right now. Besides, I am having a urine test, so I have to go study.
See, so we have a post that refers to the fact that it is a post. It is a post about the present post. How fucking circular is that? How dull is that? That is the better term.
I can give a short weekend in review. The Lad had his friends sleepover birthday party on Friday. It was a Friday night dinner, alone, with the Wife and myself. She had said she wanted to see a movie earlier (the night before) but I was tired. As she did not bring it up, I just let sleeping dogs lie. Back to the Lad, he was at a sleepover.
This was an obvious mis-nomer. He did NOT sleep. I worked out and the Wife went to fetch him, take him to the Outlaws' condo and then to visit FIL in the home. Apparently, they did not get that far. She got him to the Outlaws' but the Lad did not want to leave the car. He fell asleep on their way home.
I came home around 3 and the Wife went to visit FIL. I was told to wake the Lad at 4:30. That was unpleasant. I actually knew how it would go and recall being there before, so I did not take it personally. He did make it to a near awakened state eventually. Then it was time for dinner, a shower (his) and bed.
That was the most exciting thing about my weekend, by the way. What kind of fucking useless and desperate life do I lead? I will keep a stiff upper lip. Besides, in my whole life, I have always thought January was a write-off month (except for the birth of the Lad) for me anyway. I do not settle into the "new" year until about February or the Chinese New Year. Go figure and I do not know what it all means.
It is going to be the Year of the Rat. To think, I had the "year of the rat" going on in my home 2 years ago. We were ahead of our time. Then again, that my explain why my alarm clock continues to run fast. Or that explains why we are ahead of our time.
Ponder that shit for a while my people. I am cutting out of here. Remember, you have just witnessed my 500th post. I want to post another 500. I also want to compile the archives and turn it into something useful, or funny. We will see where that project goes.
Ciao!
I should have some sort of party or quiz you all on the previous 499 posts just to see if you were listening, er retaining your reading. I would not do that y'all....right now. Besides, I am having a urine test, so I have to go study.
See, so we have a post that refers to the fact that it is a post. It is a post about the present post. How fucking circular is that? How dull is that? That is the better term.
I can give a short weekend in review. The Lad had his friends sleepover birthday party on Friday. It was a Friday night dinner, alone, with the Wife and myself. She had said she wanted to see a movie earlier (the night before) but I was tired. As she did not bring it up, I just let sleeping dogs lie. Back to the Lad, he was at a sleepover.
This was an obvious mis-nomer. He did NOT sleep. I worked out and the Wife went to fetch him, take him to the Outlaws' condo and then to visit FIL in the home. Apparently, they did not get that far. She got him to the Outlaws' but the Lad did not want to leave the car. He fell asleep on their way home.
I came home around 3 and the Wife went to visit FIL. I was told to wake the Lad at 4:30. That was unpleasant. I actually knew how it would go and recall being there before, so I did not take it personally. He did make it to a near awakened state eventually. Then it was time for dinner, a shower (his) and bed.
That was the most exciting thing about my weekend, by the way. What kind of fucking useless and desperate life do I lead? I will keep a stiff upper lip. Besides, in my whole life, I have always thought January was a write-off month (except for the birth of the Lad) for me anyway. I do not settle into the "new" year until about February or the Chinese New Year. Go figure and I do not know what it all means.
It is going to be the Year of the Rat. To think, I had the "year of the rat" going on in my home 2 years ago. We were ahead of our time. Then again, that my explain why my alarm clock continues to run fast. Or that explains why we are ahead of our time.
Ponder that shit for a while my people. I am cutting out of here. Remember, you have just witnessed my 500th post. I want to post another 500. I also want to compile the archives and turn it into something useful, or funny. We will see where that project goes.
Ciao!
Friday, January 11, 2008
The trite leading the trite
I am back. I was not sure what to post today. I could tell the story of the old dude in the red BMW 3 Series who could not seem to decide what lane he was, or wanted to be, in. I guess I just told that story. Really was not that funny, was it?
I have been doing some work on a database for charities. I noticed that there is a charity called "Motorcyclists Against Childhood Cancer" or some such thing. Is that not the most trite name around (or some such variation). Oh, you are against childhood cancer, well thank you very much. That is quite a stretch there. I guess you do not want to go out on a limb about the issue.
I would like to see a charity that was specifically "for" childhood cancer. This is not like the pro-choice/pro-life debate. Who the fuck is "for" cancer, let alone childhood cancer?! Is it just me, but don't you want to strangle anybody who says something so trite and self-evident?
It was like as MIL was dying and the Wife tells me that she "does not want to go through this". Sweetie, really? I am shocked. I kind of figured her for the type of person that wants to take on the responsibility for caring for her mother, father and lesser extent idiot, older brother (the "idiot" part has not actually been diagnosed, but it based on about 20 years of seeing him in (in)action). Then again, she does come from a family where pointing out the obvious was treated as deep insight, so that explains that.
Well, that is what I have for you leading up to the weekend. Make it an enjoyable one as it is you, and only you, who has that power. Ciao!
I have been doing some work on a database for charities. I noticed that there is a charity called "Motorcyclists Against Childhood Cancer" or some such thing. Is that not the most trite name around (or some such variation). Oh, you are against childhood cancer, well thank you very much. That is quite a stretch there. I guess you do not want to go out on a limb about the issue.
I would like to see a charity that was specifically "for" childhood cancer. This is not like the pro-choice/pro-life debate. Who the fuck is "for" cancer, let alone childhood cancer?! Is it just me, but don't you want to strangle anybody who says something so trite and self-evident?
It was like as MIL was dying and the Wife tells me that she "does not want to go through this". Sweetie, really? I am shocked. I kind of figured her for the type of person that wants to take on the responsibility for caring for her mother, father and lesser extent idiot, older brother (the "idiot" part has not actually been diagnosed, but it based on about 20 years of seeing him in (in)action). Then again, she does come from a family where pointing out the obvious was treated as deep insight, so that explains that.
Well, that is what I have for you leading up to the weekend. Make it an enjoyable one as it is you, and only you, who has that power. Ciao!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Water Story
I am back. Just thought I would pop in and say "hello". Hello!
Yesterday, was quite the day. I woke up, which is a pretty good start to the day already, and went to get the paper. I noticed while looking at the front of the house, that it was either raining pretty hard, or there was water trouble on the street.
There was a large flow of water moving towards the catch basins, which were probably covered with leaves and shit. Then again, I did not care because we are on high ground, in between the catch basins and our driveway does slope down. I learned that back in 2000 during a torrential down pour (the one that caused all the fun in Walkerton, by the way).
I do not think much about it until I go take a shower and notice the water pressure is low. I finish and check to make sure that it was not happening in the house (it was not). Meanwhile, the water continues to flow outside. The area by the catch basins, in between speed humps, is full of water. I am watching cars increase their speed to go through it. Actually, I am watching morons trying to hydroplane their cars and minivans.
I call the City. They were working on a fire hydrant or water main the day before. It seems that when they recharged the water system, it caused another fire hydrant or water main to burst under the pressure.
On my way to work, I saw the fire hydrant that was the problem. The front lawn, in front of the hydrant, was spewing water. It was kind of neat.
I get home after six and there is still no water. The trucks are working on things. Meanwhile, we have a dishwasher full of dirty dishes, a sink full of the same (it was after dinner) and a Wife and Lad who needed a shower (eventually). I was taking out the garbage when a big, old city truck drove by with a "new" fire hydrant in the back. I laughed. That was about 7 pm.
Long story short, we had water back on by about 10:40pm. It could not have been soon enough. I did not want to think about the dishes, let alone not being able to shower, or have a coffee, in the morning. Well, all is well that ends well, until the next thing goes.
It is wonderful to live in a City with crumbling infrastructure and nobody willing to be held accountable for that situation. It is like a fantasy land. Fuck! Sign me up and get me on board. Get paid to do very little and not have to take any responsibility.
Ciao!
Yesterday, was quite the day. I woke up, which is a pretty good start to the day already, and went to get the paper. I noticed while looking at the front of the house, that it was either raining pretty hard, or there was water trouble on the street.
There was a large flow of water moving towards the catch basins, which were probably covered with leaves and shit. Then again, I did not care because we are on high ground, in between the catch basins and our driveway does slope down. I learned that back in 2000 during a torrential down pour (the one that caused all the fun in Walkerton, by the way).
I do not think much about it until I go take a shower and notice the water pressure is low. I finish and check to make sure that it was not happening in the house (it was not). Meanwhile, the water continues to flow outside. The area by the catch basins, in between speed humps, is full of water. I am watching cars increase their speed to go through it. Actually, I am watching morons trying to hydroplane their cars and minivans.
I call the City. They were working on a fire hydrant or water main the day before. It seems that when they recharged the water system, it caused another fire hydrant or water main to burst under the pressure.
On my way to work, I saw the fire hydrant that was the problem. The front lawn, in front of the hydrant, was spewing water. It was kind of neat.
I get home after six and there is still no water. The trucks are working on things. Meanwhile, we have a dishwasher full of dirty dishes, a sink full of the same (it was after dinner) and a Wife and Lad who needed a shower (eventually). I was taking out the garbage when a big, old city truck drove by with a "new" fire hydrant in the back. I laughed. That was about 7 pm.
Long story short, we had water back on by about 10:40pm. It could not have been soon enough. I did not want to think about the dishes, let alone not being able to shower, or have a coffee, in the morning. Well, all is well that ends well, until the next thing goes.
It is wonderful to live in a City with crumbling infrastructure and nobody willing to be held accountable for that situation. It is like a fantasy land. Fuck! Sign me up and get me on board. Get paid to do very little and not have to take any responsibility.
Ciao!
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Yeah, right!
I am back. Apologies for not posting Monday but things happen. Saw this headline and had to laugh.
Back to Pakistan for a moment, Musharaff has "vowed" to find Benazir Bhutto's killer(s). That is such a nice sentiment. Of course, OJ Simpson has been "searching" for Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman's killer for over 12 years now. The wheels of privately finding killers does indeed move slowly.
I mean, if OJ has not had any luck what makes Mr. Musharraf think he can do any better even with the resources of the state of Pakistan at his disposal? Just a thought and a laugh.
Ciao and enjoy the day.
Back to Pakistan for a moment, Musharaff has "vowed" to find Benazir Bhutto's killer(s). That is such a nice sentiment. Of course, OJ Simpson has been "searching" for Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman's killer for over 12 years now. The wheels of privately finding killers does indeed move slowly.
I mean, if OJ has not had any luck what makes Mr. Musharraf think he can do any better even with the resources of the state of Pakistan at his disposal? Just a thought and a laugh.
Ciao and enjoy the day.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Back to the Mullet
I am back. I was just glancing at something about Miley Cyrus, Hannah Montana. I have said it before and I will say it again. I am thankful the Lad is a lad. Being a boy, he cares not one whit for Hannah Montana and all the prepubescent gayness that it entails. It pleases me so.
Besides it was bad enough dealing with Barney and Pokemon. Those ran their course. I could always get the Lad to cry by changing the words to the Winnie the Pooh song. "A donkey named Seymour (instead of Eyeore) was his friend and Kanga and little Rufus (instead of Roo). There's Rabbit and Piglet and there's Earl (Owl)....." It would drive him crazy, which only made me do it more. It is funny how we slip into our natural roles. I was the instigator, still am.
I could always push people's buttons and get a reaction out of them. I did with my sister as a kid and do it with the Lad as a quasi-adult.
I was thinking of Miley Cyrus's lineage. Do you realize that she is the daughter of a mullet wearer? What the fuck? Those Billy Ray Cyrus mullet wearing motherfucking genes must be isolated and destroyed. The mullet should not be allowed to perpetuate. If he had a mullet, it is only a matter of time before Miley sports one or goes out with a dude/dudette who has one.
Then again, it may only be a matter of time before Miley Cyrus goes all Britney Spears/Lindsay Lohan on us all. Then again, she could do that Mandy Moore boring thing, too. That may be a better thing as I would not have to hear about it.
That is all for now. The mullet connection just had me thinking. Ciao!
Besides it was bad enough dealing with Barney and Pokemon. Those ran their course. I could always get the Lad to cry by changing the words to the Winnie the Pooh song. "A donkey named Seymour (instead of Eyeore) was his friend and Kanga and little Rufus (instead of Roo). There's Rabbit and Piglet and there's Earl (Owl)....." It would drive him crazy, which only made me do it more. It is funny how we slip into our natural roles. I was the instigator, still am.
I could always push people's buttons and get a reaction out of them. I did with my sister as a kid and do it with the Lad as a quasi-adult.
I was thinking of Miley Cyrus's lineage. Do you realize that she is the daughter of a mullet wearer? What the fuck? Those Billy Ray Cyrus mullet wearing motherfucking genes must be isolated and destroyed. The mullet should not be allowed to perpetuate. If he had a mullet, it is only a matter of time before Miley sports one or goes out with a dude/dudette who has one.
Then again, it may only be a matter of time before Miley Cyrus goes all Britney Spears/Lindsay Lohan on us all. Then again, she could do that Mandy Moore boring thing, too. That may be a better thing as I would not have to hear about it.
That is all for now. The mullet connection just had me thinking. Ciao!
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Time Machine Briefly
I am back. It is still the new year. We have not back in time. In theory, time, like the other dimensions (length, width, depth) should run infinitely forward and backward. Yet, it does not. We cannot go back in time (even if you could, you run the risk of changing your present should you do something to change the past, which by rights should include being there, breathing the air, etc.).
The reason I bring that up was the 1960 movie, "The Time Machine" was on the other night. It was based on the book by H.G. Wells. I read it as a teenager and always found the premise to be quite profound and worth imagining. The special effects in the movie were state of the art, in its day. It seemed pretty cheesy by today's technology. It was still a cool movie. In fact, a Simpson's Treehouse of Horrors episode referenced the movie by have Prof. Frink build a time machine like the one in the movie. It would get stolen by Nelson, I think, and he would "Ha Ha" in the past. Funny stuff indeed.
Obviously, the Muse is still on vacation. I hope she gets back soon and brings me a basketful of funny. Have a good one. Ciao!
The reason I bring that up was the 1960 movie, "The Time Machine" was on the other night. It was based on the book by H.G. Wells. I read it as a teenager and always found the premise to be quite profound and worth imagining. The special effects in the movie were state of the art, in its day. It seemed pretty cheesy by today's technology. It was still a cool movie. In fact, a Simpson's Treehouse of Horrors episode referenced the movie by have Prof. Frink build a time machine like the one in the movie. It would get stolen by Nelson, I think, and he would "Ha Ha" in the past. Funny stuff indeed.
Obviously, the Muse is still on vacation. I hope she gets back soon and brings me a basketful of funny. Have a good one. Ciao!
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
FIL: The Demented Jeweler of Toronto
I am back. Happy New Year one and all. I had A thought, not THE thought. With the success of Tim Burton's new movie with Johnny Depp, Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Seville, I am going to write a book/play/screenplay. It will involve FIL.
I will title it, FIL: The Demented Jeweler of Toronto. You can witness the anxiety and lack of logic that finds him fearful of not being home when the sun sets, or may set, which pretty much includes every day. I think it would be a hoot, without the blood.
It could even go into his cutting off his finger tip at the office, so we can have the blood that would sell the movie to a young, blood thirsty audience. Hell, I could turn into a slasher flick with the slasher being a bit confused. Then again, that could be gory/funny as he kills without reason, or reason that he can recall.
Think about it for a bit and let me know if you think it would sell. Ciao!
I will title it, FIL: The Demented Jeweler of Toronto. You can witness the anxiety and lack of logic that finds him fearful of not being home when the sun sets, or may set, which pretty much includes every day. I think it would be a hoot, without the blood.
It could even go into his cutting off his finger tip at the office, so we can have the blood that would sell the movie to a young, blood thirsty audience. Hell, I could turn into a slasher flick with the slasher being a bit confused. Then again, that could be gory/funny as he kills without reason, or reason that he can recall.
Think about it for a bit and let me know if you think it would sell. Ciao!
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