Saturday, December 31, 2005

F%#@ You, 2005.

Everyone always says Happy New Year.

I thought it was time to flip the bird at the old one.
All in all, 2005 was not a bad year for me and mine, so outside of the usual stuff I bitch about I can't complain.

The last couple of New Years were really quiet for me, mostly just staying at home, or visiting with family. Having a kid, (now kids ) will do that to you.

I remember the New Years of old; I usually celebrated the big moment in one of three ways:
  • Roaring Drunk, passed out somewhere. (Not as often as you'd think.)
  • Bored out of my mind at a party I didn't want to go to.
  • Between the legs of the woman of the moment. ( Personal Favorite)

But those days are kinda over now, and I think it might be for the better.

I'm not going to post my resolutions yet, Give me some time to decide, and I'll let you know.

Have a good one, and take pictures if you can.


Friday, December 30, 2005

One Hundred.

The great thing about having this blog is that it enables me to put my opinion, in my own words, out into the ether for all to see. Good or Bad, it doesn't matter if I come across as an asshole or a saint, at least I can say that these are my words and I stand behind them.
I'll admit if I'm wrong, and you know I'll gloat (just a little) if I'm right, but a least I had the balls to write something, even if you or someone else doesn't agree with what I say.

I'm a big fan of comments, and usually if I don't know who leaves them, I'll check through their profile and see what they write about or what their opinions are.
Nothing pisses me off more than some schmuck who'll leave a retarded, off topic, inflammatory comment; and yet this guy doesn't have the cohones to put his thoughts out there. They'll insult another persons writings, yet like the cheap fuck the are, can't find it in themselves to give others the same shot at their beliefs or opinions.
Don't come to the party unless you're willing to dance.

If you feel the need to insult others likes, dislikes and opinions, at least have yours out for others to see.

Not the topic I had planned for my 100th post, but it'll do.

Thursday, December 29, 2005


My Grandfather fell down today.

That in itself is a huge deal, but as a family we are kinda getting used to it. He's unstable on his feet, needs a walker and a scooter to get around, yet is intensely proud, refuses to ask for assistance, and seems unable to accept the fact that he cannot do everything he used to be able to do.

Today's occurrence required 3 stitches at the hospital, and we had to watch him for a while to make sure there were no symptoms of head trauma, as he had fallen a cut himself over his eye.

As I said before my Grandfather is a very proud man and he and my Grandmother have been one of the constants in my life. They have always been there, always been strong, independent people. It was always tough to see him as his condition has worsened, but to see him in emergency today, and to see the effect it has on my Grandmother was quite shocking.

When I think of my Grandfather the first thing that comes to mind is strength. To me he was always the strongest man in the world. Very outdoors and active, and always very there. When I was a kid it seemed like he could have lost an arm, called it a flesh wound, and continued chopping wood.
Watching him shaking with palsy, and bleeding while the doctor stitched him up made me realize how vulnerable he is now. How Human.

Deep inside I always felt that my Grandparents would outlive me, and to see them in any other light is quite disconcerting.

It rattles you, right at the very core.

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

No Sleep

The lack of sleep is really starting to suck ass.
As Joe said, I must be tired if all I can do is resort to shit and fart jokes.
(What makes you think it's a joke, motherfucker? That incident was based on real-life events.)
Once this kids sleep schedule calms down, it'll be easier to handle.
I think I'll have better luck prying the bottle out of my Drunk Uncle's hands.
(Doesn't everyone have a Drunk Uncle?)

You know what's funny; as tired as I am, at least I'm able to use spellcheck.


Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Gut Bomb

Too much coffee and too many treats.

My stomach is in rebellion.
And if you've read my previous post, I've had guests in the house all day, which means more coffee and more snacks.
I felt trouble brewing early on in the day:


I was sure it was going to settle down, probably just nerves and lack of sleep. Have some more coffee to take the edge off. (That's like using more gunpowder to keep the canon under control.)


Shit, there's company here now. Just sneak into the laundry room and let a squeaker out.
Oh my Christ! What the hell is that funky smell? Better close the door when I head back out. A coffee and biscotti will settle this right down.


Whoa, that coffee's not helping, maybe I'll just excuse myself to the bathroom for a moment...


Oh my god, it feels like I'm being turned inside out. I guess this is what giving birth feels like.. That must have been my water breaking.. What was that noise? Was that me? Oh Lord I think I'm gonna die, please Lord, let me get through this, and I'll never eat another burrito again. Oh no, here comes the gas... There's got to be something wrong with me, I can't believe it's possible to make that smell with the contents of one man's stomach... Try to reach the switch for the fan...hope that it can handle the strain.. Grab the counter for support....lean into it...hold on...hold on... there! Oh yes! Yes! I'm done! Hallelujah! I feel lightheaded...must reach toilet paper roll...Fuck! Three squares left! That's like bailing a lake with a Dixie cup! Well you do what you have to do...Better leave the fan on and air it out... Now to go back out and be sociable.

Why are they looking at me funny?
Maybe I'll just go into the kitchen and grab a coffee...


(Rinse and repeat)

The Parade Begins

Today everyone is coming by to, as Seinfeld put it, "see the baby!"

An endless parade of people walking in and out of my house.

Hardly any sleep last night, and yet, due to my anal-retentiveness, I'm up early cleaning because no one in this world is going to see me with a messy house.

While they are all gawking at the kid, I'll be the one with the Dust Buster, sucking up crumbs.


Monday, December 26, 2005

Happy Birthday, Tristan

Yeah you read it right.

At 00:33 on December 26th, My #2 son entered into the world.
A strapping 8 pounds 9 ounces, he looks to be a charmer, following in the footsteps of his older brother and Father.

The nurses swooned, the paparazzi went crazy, and you knew he was mine 'cause there were groupies outside the birth room.

I'm never getting a good night's sleep again. Ever.


Sunday, December 25, 2005

Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Now that most of the holiday shit is over with, we can start realizing the most important event that happens during this time of year.

Boxing Day Sales!

70% off?, Buy one, get one free?

I'm getting mine, bitches.

See you at the mall.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Papal Problem

Is it just me or does this "New Pope" look evil?

I know I'm really far behind the times to be saying this, but I don't normally pay that much attention to the Catholic Church.

Maybe it's the way he has that evil gleam in his eye, maybe it's that he's German, but something about this guy bugs me.

Lets start with the German thing. First of all, let me say that not all Germans are evil. But this guy looks like he was old enough to have been around when there were real bad Germans out there. Did they do a good background check on him? Can you place his whereabouts prior to 1945? If someone says he was the village priest at Auschwitz, that would be a clue that somethings not right. And look at that face. Put a tiny black mustache under his nose, and BAM! - Hitler.

He does have that nasty look going on. Reminds me of that old man from Family Guy. You know the one I mean, the pedophile. Looks like he just had an alter boy for lunch and is eyeing you up for a light snack. Reminds me of the look the Emperor had before the end of Episode 3. "Cardinal Vader?" "Yes, my master?" "Rise, it's time for confessional."

And the name he has picked. Benedict. Benedict Arnold, anyone? Huh? Traitor to the revolution? What's this guy trying to hint at? He's hinting there's not going to be any church reform, except that from now on, all alter boys will wear butt-less chaps. (Like most of them didn't already.) I think that's the Evil Tip Off. The name's the hint, the looks just natural.

I'm sure that the church will sue me, or hunt me down and exorcise me, (I've seen what they did to Emily Rose, I think I can handle it.) But as long as they don't haul be to the Death Star - I mean Vatican, I should be OK. At least in the cell-blocks there it's not bread and water; it's crackers and wine.


Friday, December 23, 2005

Waiting Is The Hardest Part

Today is the Wife's due day.

Yes people, today is supposed to be the day my new progeny would enter the world.
But so far, no dice. There's not much you can do but wait it out, and that's all that can be done right now. ( Actually there's all sort of freaky stuff you can try, but I'm not really in the mood for half of it.) And since I'm not the one packing the kid around right now, I don't really have a problem with waiting.

The Wife is a different matter.

If this child was to burst from her chest a'la Alien, I think she would be happy just to have it out. I must admit, it's got to be hard carrying all that around for the last nine months, although to hear her tell it, she's been carrying me around for the last nine years. Right..... She's in her own little world on that one.

The closer we get to the big day, the more I hope this one turns out just as well as the Boy. But that would be too much luck in one spot, and lord knows I've got some bad karma floating around somewhere. If it's half as good it'll still be better than most of the kids I see on a daily basis.

Plus, if it's born on Christmas, I'm calling him Jesus. (Like I'll get away with that.)

"He Looks Like A Pink Nightmare"

Everyone has some type of Christmas tradition.

Some people go to church, some go skiing, the homeless....stay homeless, but for me and mine, every year there are certain movies that I have to watch, just to get some semblance of seasonal cheer.
  • A Christmas Story - This is the one. If I don't catch some of the others, I can live, but sometime during the Holidays I have to watch this. For some reason I just love this movie. I think it's the family dynamic, or maybe the fact that it's just fuckin' hilarious.
  • Christmas Vacation - Boy, big shocker here. Everybody and their dog watches this one. I prefer the DVD to what you see on TV, but we've all seen the TV version a thousand times.
  • Merry Fucking Christmas - What? How did that get there?
  • Bad Santa - It wasn't Christmas when I first saw it, but this movie makes the list this year. Some of the shit they pull off in this movie, just makes me laugh 'till it hurts
  • Charlie Brown Christmas - Oh come on, everyone loves this one! With the fucked up Christmas tree, and Lucy trying to get into Schroeder's pants, it's a holiday classic! Best line ever: Whaa Whaa wawa Wha. - Charlie Brown's Teacher.

I know there's probably lots of movies I missed that I do watch and kinda remember, but with so much going on at this time of year, you end up missing a couple.

What are the movies you like to watch over the Holidays? Really old shit or do you like the more modern fare? I can't stand the older stuff, but I'll watch it if I've had enough egg nog.

But I'll do just about anything if I've had enough nog.


Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Kringle, Kris Kringle...

Took the boy to see Santa tonight.

He reacted way better than last year, which was to say he didn't cry, have a freaker and try to stab Santa. He understands that there is a man in a suit, who doesn't look like anybody else he's ever seen, and we want him to sit in this guys lap and smile. No fucking way. He'll walk up, take the present, say thank you like he's been taught, and then he wants nothing to do with that guy.

What shocked me was when I asked him if he didn't like Santa. He said "That not Santa, Daddy, that man in suit." He said Santa was at the North Pole and that was just a "pretend Santa". This from the kid who still occasionally shits his pants? He can see through lies and subterfuge, but can't see fit to plant a coiler in the shitter?

What a crappy and thankless job that must be. If you aren't cheerful enough, people will get mad 'cause you are ruining it for the kids, yet if you are too enthusiastic, then you are probably a closet pedophile. And the kids, oh my lord the kids; some of the little buggers I saw tonight I wouldn't let in the front door of my house, forget about sitting on my lap. Fat, dirty, smelly, snotty, ugly, whiny, and spastic. It's like the seven dwarves of childhood trauma. I'd rather breast-feed a cheese shredder than deal with some of that crap.

Where do you go to get that job? What qualifications do you have to have? Does Worker's Compensation cover lap related accidents? Is there a test? There must be some sort of training program or minimum level of education needed, otherwise you'd see homeless people lining up for the job. Although the standards can't be too high, otherwise how to you explain the schmoes that do it in this town? I think the guy who was doing it tonight had lost a bet or something.

Yet some how the magic is still in the air. The blatant commercialism of Christmas has yet to stomp out the actual meaning of the season. Now if we could just remember what that was....

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

I F@$#%* Hate Shopping.

I go on holidays in two days.

Most of my shopping is done, except for a couple of people, mainly the Wife.

Been too busy working to really get it done, so now I'm gonna have to fight the crowds to get this shit over with.
The most frustrating part is that I know exactly what I am going to get. I'm just pissed that I'm going to have to wade through a sea of imbeciles to get the items I need.

I think I should take a large stick with me and swing it wildly around my head to clear a path. Alas, in this post 9/11 world, I would get jumped by about 5 different government agencies, two of which would be from our "Retarded cousin to the south." (Take that Tucker Carlson, I got a whole other blog entry for you, shmuck.)

I think I'll just have to bite the bullet, or at least carry a few rounds with me. I'm gonna put on my Happy Christmas Face,( "Now with 10% more Insanity!") and just tough it out. I know a lot of you think I'm exaggerating, but I'd rather shop in almost any other place than here. The ignorant butt-heads around this joint seem to come out in force whenever I decide to go downtown.

If you don't hear from me again, pour a Timmy's on the curb.


Monday, December 19, 2005

If There Were Boobs, I'd Watch It.

Watching Television at this time of year is excruciatingly painful.
There is nothing really good on, just seems to be the same crap and drivel that's always there, except now it's Christmas Themed crap and drivel.

Does anybody even watch Fear Factor anymore? Why is that show still on? What's the point? All it has is a couple of stunts, ( you can't get hurt, there's safety equipment everywhere,) and eating something gross. Where's the challenge in that? Hell, in high school I used to do stunts; walking to school without being run over was one, and using the shittier at the school was the other. And eating something gross? I'd go down on a girl with a yeast infection and call it a light snack.

But back to the TV. Is there nothing original out anymore? And I mean something with some standards to it, not this smaltzy-holiday made-for-TV shit they splatter the airwaves with, hoping to tug at your heartstrings long enough for you to feel guilty and buy your drunk uncle "The Clapper" 'cause you saw it during a commercial.

I wouldn't mind seeing something that would catch my attention like The Charlie Brown Christmas Special did. ( Before it was aired for the 12 millionth time) And I recall how The Grinch was such a good, funny story, or it was until I saw it a couple of nights ago. Dr Seuss was a hack, and I swear that the fucker was stoned when he wrote that shit. And I'm not letting my kid watch some junkie's wet dream that's been drawn by a retarded guy with no depth perception.

I gots to put my foot down somewhere.

Maybe I'll just shut the goddamn TV off, and go and take my son outside.

Right after CSI.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Man Of The Year.

I just about pissed myself when I saw that Time Magazine had picked Bono as one of it's People of the Year. I've been checking Joe's Blog every 15 minutes since I got home. I'm just waiting for his take on the whole thing. His hatred of the B-Man is almost legendary, and as constant as the passage of time.

I can't begrudge the Bill Gates choice either. The guy makes a shitload of money, but he also dumps a lot of it back into the community. I don't think that it's such a big distiction, last year they picked Dubya, and now they're just trying to make up for it.

They got a long way to go.


Saturday, December 17, 2005


You know, family really pisses me off sometimes.

There are moments when I find it hard that I am related ( by blood, no less!) to these people.

We had The Boy's birthday party today. 2:00 pm to be precise. Told my family about it a week ago, when my brother was up. Laid down the time frame, made sure they all knew about it.

I get a call from my Mother at around noon, and she tells me that they won't be coming. Now my parents live about 45 minutes north of town, and I understand that weather plays an important part in driving, but when you tell me that you can't make it in because you are worried about frost on the roads, and it's +2 and sunny in town, then I have a problem. Now, my parents not coming raises another issue. What about my Grandparents? They live on the north side of town, don't have a vehicle, and my parents would be their method of transportation. I ask if they are still coming, because if I have to go get them, then I'll have to leave ASAP to get then here on time.
I'm told that my Grandmother has a bad cold and can't come. If she's not going there's no way my Grandfather is, not by himself, and I know that's not gonna happen. Ok then, I ask if my Aunt and Uncle, who live in the same place as my parents, are coming. My Mother doesn't know but says she'll find out. Says she'll see us later in the week.

Of course you will. It's fucking Christmas. I have to see all of you.

My Aunt calls 5 minutes later and cancels for the same reason.

Great. We have a party for My Son, and the only people from my family that show up is my 13 year old nephew and his youngest brother. Meanwhile my Wife's family has 14 people show up. We can tell which family shows more respect for the Boy now, can't we?

And that's what it's all about. Respect. I hope that you Respect me enough to try and make it to the kid's party, even if you had to leave early. I hope that you Respect me and mine enough to have your kids behave themselves when they are in my house, and to let them have Respect for themselves by not showing up looking like castoffs from Oliver Twist.
Cap-it-al Fucking R-e-s-p-e-c-t, Respect. Aretha sang about it, try and show some of it.

It doesn't totally fuck my day over, but I was frustrated by my family's no-show and embarrassed at what family did show up. ( You'll have to ask Joe the details; trust me it's a whole other blog entry.)

But the Boy had a great time after all, and he didn't even notice what family weren't there, and he ignored the ones that were acting weird. So he had a good day, and that's what counts.

But I'm still fucking mad.
I usually let shit slide, be the bigger man, but fuck it. I'll call it when I see it, and this is bullshit.

Nursing a grudge through the holidays?..........Nice.

Talk The Talk.

I'm in a rut.

Lately all I do is work, eat, have some quality time with the family, sleep, and then start it all over again in the morning.
I'm digging the job right now, and I'm cool on hangin' with the Boy, but after going to Vancouver and then doing the staff party thing, I'm kinda in the mood to "stretch my legs". I think I just need some release, and to have some deep, meaningful conversation.

Gotcha, didn't I? Those of you who normally read this probably thought I was going to say deep meaningless sex. Well, that's not what this is about. I'd like to have a long, interesting conversation with someone who knows what they want to say. The Boy is great and all, but a thirty-minute chat about what that pile of Play-Dough looks like is starting to wear thin.

I'd love to talk about what's going on outside of the house, about things that are happening in the world, hell about almost anything, really. I'd even have a debate with one of those retards who refuse to say "Merry Christmas" this time of year.

I guess it's because of the holidays. Everyone is in a rush, you are sucked out of your usual routine, and all you have time for is inane chatter with people you normally wouldn't see, unless it was to testify at a paternity hearing.

So until this rush-about, bullshit filled season is over I'm gonna have to wait until the peeps are free and then grab a cup of Java at Timmy's. It's the only way to make it through. Good luck making the schedules work out, but hey, it'll happen eventually.


Thursday, December 15, 2005


My brother just got a Video iPod.

Until this time, I was not really into the whole iPod phenomenon. I would hear people speak of them, see someone wearing one, and witnessed the rabid ferocity with which it's supporters defend their product on the net.
I didn't really want one.
All that hype, and the price tag was just a bit out of my reach. I figured I would be happier with a lower end mp3 player, and leave all "those" people to their white ear-buds and weird commercials. I know that U2 has an iPod, and if Bono's endorsing it, I know Joey's not going anywhere near it. ( Thus was the extent of my research.)

But I got to hold one in my hands.
I got to examine it closely, and play with it for a while.

Oh God, I want one so bad.

It's a lot more than what I had imagined, and that's not including the picture and video capabilities. It's like sweet music and funky technology hopped in the sack and fucked like bunnies. I would call it "My Precious", and I would hold it and love it and squeeze it all day long......

But I digress.
I'll admit that I was wrong.
In my brief time that I got to enjoy the product, I kept thinking how neat and intuitive it was. It seemed really well designed. Cool features and nice workmanship make a well rounded product.

To Steve Jobs: Nice work, and I hope to get one someday.
To My Brother: If yours goes missing, don't look at me.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Making A List, Checking It Twice...

What's with all the lists?

Always at this time of year, people start coming out with their "Best of" and "Worst of" lists.
Here's a question, Who Fucking Cares?

You know I'm the last guy to bitch about a list of stuff. Hell I enjoy telling you all how I feel in list form quite often. But what drives me nuts is that these lists are everywhere. Every publication has a list, every sect and organization has a list, every fucking retard with an opinion and a form of communication feels the need to tell you how his favorite things stacked up this year. Half the time its all the same shit, or at least the same type of crap as the year before. It's easy to do; check it out.

Favorite Shit From Last Year:

  1. Just about every blowjob I received. ( There were a few so-so, but why complain?)
  2. DVD's
  3. Random Music.

Favorite Shit From This Year:

  1. Just about every blowjob I received.
  2. DVD's
  3. Random Music.

So what's changed? Nothing! Sure, some of the movies and music might be different, but it's still the same list. Why? Because I like Movies and Music, (and blowjobs) that's never gonna change.

The only list that should be acceptable is changes from the norm.

I know you like movies, so don't tell me that shit. Tell me the best new food you tried, or a list of the easiest women you know, or something that will make the list useful to me. I don't care if you liked Harry Potter, millions of other people did too, I get the picture, it's a good movie. But if you tell me the best new dish you tried was scallops and bacon eaten off the ass of a 21-year old personal trainer, then I might be interested in trying that out.

Make sure to keep that in mind when creating your list, and everything should be just fine.

And pass the bacon.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Every Inambition

Why do some people even get out of bed?

I really loathe dealing with people's piss-poor attitude when it comes to work.
Show some drive! Some intensity! I'm not saying you have to be doing cartwheels around the joint, but for Christ-sakes, look like you want to be here.

Are you unhappy in your work? Then fucking leave. I got no time to sit and listen to you bitch about how hard you have it, or how you think the world has shit on you.
Think you can do better somewhere else? Go ahead, walk away. I have no use for you if all you think about is yourself and not the people around you or the company that pays your goddamn salary.

Just because you showed up does not mean I owe you a paycheck. That's why it's called working, otherwise it would be called drop-in-money-time. You are not "doing me a favor" by being here with your shitty attitude, I'd rather not have you here at all, or at least get a trained ape in there to replace you. Sure, the ape will be hurling its own feces around, but it will be doing it with a smile on it's face.

Want to earn more money? Work Harder. Show me that you are worth the investment. Why would I give good money to someone who hates working here as much as you do?
As I said earlier, if you don't want to be here, don't show up. Then I get to can your lousy ass and bring in someone who wants to work.

Like the ape.

Friday, December 09, 2005

Pledging Allegiance

I was reading Hank's blog, and I got to thinking, (I know, it's a dangerous thing.)
What seems to be the fascination some people have with telling the entire world, (or at least the surrounding neighborhood,) who you are planning to vote for?

I thought it was supposed to be a secret ballot.

What's the point of sticking a sign in your lawn and then having to go into a booth and vote?
Do you think that by having that sign on your lawn you are going to change the mind of the people around you?

" I'm troubled on who to vote for dear"
" What seems to be the problem honey?"
" Well I like the way Sam mows his lawn, so I was thinking of voting Liberal."
" But what about how the Thompson's have their Christmas lights? That would make me want to go Conservative."
" And then there's the Smiths, their voting NDP."
"Fuck them, their dog shits on our lawn"

Anyone who is swayed by a lawn sign is a waste of what might pass for brain cells.

Inversely, if you don't have a sign, does that mean you aren't voting?
Why aren't you passionate enough about your choices in who gets to run our country to not put a sign out there?
If we all had signs, we wouldn't even have to vote, they'd just send some guys around to count the signs. Biggest total wins. Extra points for signs with pictures, or a really big "X" or check-mark beside the name

I all know is I agree with Hank.
Although he hates the signs because they are Conservatives, and I just hate them because they're signs.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

A Difficult Task

I've had hard jobs before.
I've been there when a goal was set, and when others said it was too arduous to do, I did it.
I've fired people who broke down and cried afterwords.
I've had a multitude of things to do at once, and completed them all.

But the hardest job in the world is teaching a 2 year old not to shit in his diapers.

Instead of torturing the prisoners in Abu-Ghraib, they should have had them potty train kids ages 2 to 3.
Trying to explain to someone not to shit their pants when all they've done for 2 years is do nothing but shit their pants is pretty difficult.
I had somebody tell me tonight how much trouble they were having housebreaking their dog.
"Ha! Try teaching a kid" I said. " At least you get to rub their nose in it and hit 'em with a newspaper."
I suggested the newspaper trick to the Wife; she didn't go for it.
She won't even let me lay newspaper on the floor.

The Boy's not dumb. He understands what is going on. He uses the toilet to pee all the time. But doing Number Two on there? No Fucking Way. I have to admit, if I had someone around to wipe my ass all the time, I wouldn't be too thrilled about changing the program either.

Maybe it's because we flushed the dead goldfish down there. Maybe he doesn't want to shit on fishy heaven.
I figured I could buy him off, but if he craps anything like his old man, it's gonna cost me a fortune.

Solutions are what I need.
And please, don't say put a cork in it.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Open Letter To Holiday Shoppers.

I fucking hate you. All of you.
You stand around like cattle, blocking the aisles, and taking up space that could be used by productive shoppers like myself.

I know what I'm getting others.
I have a general idea where that item is located in the store.
I am willing to purchase the item when I pick it up.
So get the fuck out of my way and let me get my shit done!

Each minute that I am around idiotic inbred morons like you I die a little inside.
If you listen closely, the sound you hear is my soul screaming to kill you, and the urge is only being held in check by the sheer force of will.
The fact that you were able to dress yourself and find your way here is a major fucking breakthrough, and I'm sure you are as proud of that fact as I am proud of myself for not picking up and throwing random items at you.

The sight of you fat fuckers lined up at the checkout like pigs at the trough make my dislike for this holiday even more intense. The slack-jawed look you present to the world is enough to make me lose my lunch.

I hate you.
With as much animosity and vitriol as I can muster, let me say it again.
I fucking hate you all.

(God it's wonderful shopping with the Wife at Wal-Mart.)

But Can It Wipe My Ass?

Chatting with others about cellphones tonight.
One of the individuals, (who does not have a cell,) says "I'll get one when is has GPS and a MP3 player, that's what I need."
Nowadays it seems like every commercial for a cellphone touts some new advancement or innovation. First it was ringtones, then cameras, now TV and videos. When is it going to end?
( I have to say I'm a fan of the phone/mp3 combo, just so I have only one device to carry.)

What would you like to see in a cellphone? Any type of outrageous add-on? How far are the companies willing to go to capture more customers?

My forecast for the future:
  • Buy the phone, get a blowjob. (Most successful product rollout ever.)
  • For the ladies - special "attachment" for your vibrating phone, uses 15 minute ringtone.
  • The Dick Tracy wristwatch cellphone.
  • Cellphone Gun.- Great for the mean streets of the 'Shwa.
  • The Loser cellphone - preloaded hawt chicks numbers, and they've already call-blocked you.
  • The DIY cellphone - box of parts, instructions in ancient hieroglyphics.
  • The G.W. Bush Cellphone - Just one big button with daddy on speed dial.

Some great ideas, eh? If any of these come out soon I'll know that Nokia's been scanning the blog. Who knows what kind of crap they'll throw out next, and being the consumer whores we are, some jerk-wad will pay big money for it.

Writing this has reminded me, I have to go charge my cell, luckily the wife's vibrator uses the same adapter.......

(She'll be pissed if she reads this.)

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

It's A Sliding Scale.

Talking with Joe and McQuarrie tonight.
Excellent conversation, good coffee, brewed by challenged people behind the counter. ( Soon we will walk in there and the coffee will be served by monkeys hurling fecal matter.)

I have a new insight into the unemployment problem in this town and many across Canada. Most of the people that aren't working must be horrendously stupid. Because if a major coffee chain such as the one I frequent has to stoop to hiring these type of people, the ones they've turned down must be lacking in gross motor function, or be unable to tell up from down.

Hey now, before you go thinking I'm a bastard, ( and you'd be right, ) I have done hiring and firing for a Major Multinational Corporation. Sure, it was on a small local area, but the same principle applies. Just because they have a heartbeat and the ability to fog up a mirror doesn't mean you should hire them. If they do the above and have a great rack, fine, hire away, but otherwise no go. And this leads us to the following:

The Awesome Rules of Hiring and Firing.
  1. The shorter the skirt, the longer the interview.
  2. Comments like " no gag reflex" and " gymnast level flexibility" should be duly noted and recorded in file.
  3. Document everything, take pictures if they'll let you.
  4. If the resume has a coversheet, it's a good sign. If it has a centerfold, even better.
  5. Try to avoid questions about "morals" and "scruples" and focus on meaningful stuff like "open relationships" and "bi-curious".
  6. If they seem distracted or edgy, offer them a drink of water. If they are hawt, offer some Rohypnol.
  7. When terminating the employee, mid-coitus is not recommended. Post-Donkey Punch is even worse.
  8. Try to get "one for the road". If that doesn't work, fudge income reports to government.
  9. Make sure all paperwork is completed and proper filing is done. Hand out photos and phone numbers to friends.
  10. Make sure any reference given is succinct and to the point. "Great Cans" will do just fine.

I think that if most employers would follow just a few simple steps the overall work experiance would be much more satisfactory for all of us.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Future Imperfect

I work with a lot of teenagers.
Not as many as when I worked at The Arches, but quite a few nonetheless.
In speaking to them , as I am wont to do, I've noticed a couple of things:
  1. The girls, almost without exception, have their lives planned out for the next 5 years. This includes college or university, and any travel plans they might also have. They have pretty much chosen a career path and have identified the steps that are needed to fulfill that goal.
  2. The guys have no fucking clue as to what's going on. No plans, no goals, nothing.

Now, this doesn't really worry me, as I will bow down to our new matriarchal overlords when the time is right, but the fact that none of these guys seem to have a clue astonishes me. I don't think I was that dumb when I was that age, and if I was, it was because I was too busy thinking about pussy. And with the stuff these young nubile young women tell me, these guys are retards when it comes to that area too.

I'm not sure what we can do to stop this flood of slacker incompetents who are going to go out into the world, but from all accounts, at least they aren't breeding.

At least not well.

Synaptic Lag.

You know, I had a great thought going on earlier today.
Couldn't wait to post about it, as I know all of you out there hunger for my opinions and observations.
( Really, I appreciate it, Thanks for coming out.)

Sat down in front of the highly sophisticated piece of plastic that has slowly come to rule my life, and promptly forgot everything I was going to write about.

I tried everything.

I retraced my steps around the house, tried to recall some of the conversations I had today, looked at some porn, you know, stuff that would jog my mind and help me remember.

Nothing worked.

I could have just got up and walked away, I could have tried something else, hell, I could have looked at more porn. But being the guy I am, I figured when there's nothing to post, just post about nothing. Seinfeld was a whole show about nothing, can't I just do one little post?

Is it wrong? Too fucking bad. I'm publishing this piece of drivel and that's that.

Saturday, December 03, 2005


Ever met a victim?

I don't mean the victim of a crime, or anything fancy like that, I just mean one of those people who feel that the most important thing the universe has to accomplish is to make their life as miserable as possible. And just in case you are slightly doubtful, they will systematically tell you exactly how the cosmos has fucked them over.

Aren't they wonderful?

Nothing makes me feel better about my situation in life than listening to one of these schmucks go off for a bit. Now don't get me wrong, I don't actually care what's happening to them, it's just that normally most of the shit they complain about is so petty that it makes me feel better. My problems are real, theirs are just mini- crisis which help them connect the different time periods of the day, much like you or I would use a watch.

"My boss is the worse boss around. Oh, I know yours beat you and embezzled the employee pension plan, but mine asks me to be at my desk on time! How am I supposed to talk to anyone if that ogre makes me work?"

"Sorry to hear about your miscarriage, I know how you feel; I have this hangnail that's been bugging me all day."

Some times these shitheads get so bent out of shape over the littlest thing that it completely ruins their whole fucking day. Something pissed you off at 9am? We'll hear about it for the next ten hours. Or somebody will hear about it, I'll tune you out so fast you'd think The Hip were playing on the radio.

At least these losers help me have a positive outlook on life. But I can't tell them that, they would just be mad about somebody else stealing all their happiness.

God Bless 'em.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

The Walls Have Ears, Eyes And A Mouth.

What's your reputation?

Good, Bad, or other...everyone has some type of reputation.

In a small town like the one I live in, it's not six degrees of separation, it's like 2.5.
Anywhere you go, someone knows you or knows about you, whether you like it or not.
For a guy, it's not normally a horrible thing, even a bad reputation can be good sometimes.

Have a rep as a hard case? Nobody fucks with you.
Have a rep for being fast and loose with the opposite sex? Everybody fucks you. (Or wants to.)
Have a reputation for not caring about reputations? Then everyone tells you the dirt on everybody else.

Once a bad reputation is established, however, changing it can be a bitch. Most of the time you are either trying to explain or justify past actions, or completely denying total falsehoods that have attached themselves to you. I find that with my reputation (in some circles,) if I did half of the things they say I did, I would be a legend of porn-like status, with no time to eat or sleep because I'm too busy cavorting with obviously loose-tongued women.

But a good reputation is a thing of gold.

If you have a rep for being a hard working guy who thinks big and gives 100% in everything he does, then doors will open for you in your chosen profession. Reputation for honesty and diligence? Keep that puppy fresh, it's a limited quantity nowadays.

But back to the original question: What's your reputation? Do you like it? Good or Bad? Evil? Have you tried to change it? Do you care? Am I going to stop asking things or do I have a hard on for the question mark?

Some of these can be answered I'm sure.