No Time To Waste.

My Power's gone out twice now, what with the hurricane-force winds ripping through my neck of the woods, so I just thought I'd make it brief:

• Why do I only encounter assholes when driving in bad weather?
• Are they thinking the same thing about me?
• When you're in Wal-Mart (don't ask) at 8:30pm wondering what all those other dumb fucks are doing there, are they wondering the same thing?
• You'd be surprised how many people are in Wal-Mart at 8:30pm.
• When I misspelled encounter up there, my spell checker missed it. (I guess encouter was okay) Is Google spell check now doing French words too, or is gibberish now acceptable?

It just flickered again - I'm out of here until the currant's stable.


Later.

Clean As A Whistle.

There's something about a fresh operating system that just makes a pseudo-geek like me all tingly.

We got an new (to us) office computer at work today, and as the untitled-but-knows-what-he's-doing tech guy, it was up to me to format and set up the system.

Looking at the screen after you've done all the updates and installed all the proper security programs is enticing; here's a virgin (for a second time) piece of equipment, ready to be used and enjoyed. Anything is possible - it responds quickly and crisply, no lag or stuttering - the response time is in milliseconds, not minutes.

Makes me want to take my home machine and nuke it from orbit.
(I'll need something to do if this winter keeps up, eh?)

But the sad thing is that it won't stay that way for long - somehow, someway, within a couple of weeks someone will be calling me and saying that the 'puters not working. I'll recall this time when everything was new and shiny and smile fondly, then set forth fixing what they've fucked up, again.


I hope that moment never comes.



Later.

Books & Covers.

If you would have told me three days ago that the lead singer for My Chemical Romance had authored a comic book series and that I would love it, I'd have called you a fucking idiot.

Shows how wrong I can be.

The Twin, as per his usual custom at Christmas, has given me yet another Graphic Novel (a fancy way of saying gussied-up comic books) - he usually goes for something outside the norm, as to broaden my horizons in the comic world.

(I won't lie - it's usually one of the highlights for me at this time of year - Christmas Eve, a cup of coffee, and a warm Graphic Novel.)

He hasn't picked a bad one yet. (Sure, Strangers in Paradise wasn't my favorite thing to read, but I appreciated the story and the writing for the type of book that it was.)

However, with The Umbrella Academy, he really blew me away. I liked the art, loved the story, and was entertained my the way the plot was laid out and developed. (I liken it as a cross between Hellboy and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.) The fact that I didn't know Gerard Way was the frontman for MCR before reading it probably helped. I have to admit, based on his writing, I might have to re-examine some of his lyrics - maybe I'm missing something.

I won't give away anything about the book - just read it and enjoy it if you have the chance. (I don't know if The Black Parade is good reading music, your mileage may vary.)




Later.

Holiday Overload.

I'm ready to go back to work.

Back to my routine, back to the gym, back to my eating habits, back to not having 3 beer at the drop of a hat.

Even though I've only been off two days, I haven't been to the gym in four - what with the weather and the @$#%! Holidays - and I feel like shit. I'm just not used to all this decadence anymore.

So going to the Gym tomorrow, logging some miles and working the late shift will only help me get back to myself.

My Half-Marathon is only twelve weeks away - so my official training begins Sunday. I'm going to allow for the Hiccup that will be New Years, but after that it's lean 'n mean until the 22nd of March. (The Gym is probably having a "Biggest Loser " Contest at the same time, and who can't afford to lose another 15 pounds along the way, right?)


Time to get my nose back to the Grindstone.





Later.

Christmas Spirts.

I had a bit of a conundrum tonight.

Do I continue drinking beer, which I've been doing since 3pm, switch to Rim & Eggnog (that I had to take a breather from the Beer), or go with the Gin I've been drinking since The Sidekick came over tonight? (Once I got off work at 6.)


Oh my God - the holidays are full of pressure and stress.

I believe I'll stick with the Gin - at least for now.



Merry Christmas , everyone.





Later.

All I Want For Christmas Is My Xbox Back.

With the chill in the air and the snow on the ground, it's the perfect time to curl up indoors with my Xbox and play some games.

Oh, wait - it's not here.

Shit.

That's right people - after being afflicted by the Red Ring of Death, I'm still waiting to get my repaired Xbox back. The graphic you see above is taken directly from my status page at Xbox.com. They're not done fixing it yet, and it still has to be shipped out. At this rate, I'm lucky if it gets here by the New Year.

Reading online, I was initially impressed to hear that most people got their box back within a week - but I forgot to take Canada Customs into account. After hearing from The Twin that his box took almost a month to get back, I was still optimistic. I thought I would be different.

Boy was I wrong.

With the inclement weather we're having, I think the snow will be thawed by the time I start playing NHL '09 again. An even bigger kick in the nuts would be to get more games for Christmas - then I'd have to look at the shiny packaging, but unable to play.

So Santa, if you're listening, Please contact Bill Gates and tell him I want my fucking Xbox back.

Thanks.




Later.

The Reader

I loved this book.

I can't wait to see the movie.



I know it's out now, but I don't think it'll be in my neck of the woods until the New Year, if ever.

If you can't see the movie, at least read the book - it's phenomenal.

Trust me.



Later.

Meet Me At The Roxy

Heard this on the radio at work today and couldn't get it out of my head.




Is it fate? Karma? Does it mean I'm going to be at The Roxy again after the Canucks game Saturday?

Who knows - I'm just looking forward to going.

Wait 'til I get back - I'll have stories.


Later.

Sleepy and Dopey.

Here's My Day:

• Up at 5:10 - at the gym by 5:30.
• Run 8.25 miles on the treadmill (in 1 hour, 10 minutes) and do some abs.
• Go home, get ready for work.
• Go to work, stock pallets of deal stuff that came in, restock and clean my Dairy, and do a thousand other things to make sure I've got my shit done for the weekend. (Gonna be in Vancouver.)
• Come home, eat and go to The Boy's Christmas Pageant at his school. (That's an hour and 23 minutes I'm never getting back- he was on stage for 7 minutes.)
• Come home and put the kids in bed.
• Start to play Poker and realize how tired I am.

That's it - I'm hitting the sack.



Later.

Taste My Heel, Bush.

An Iraqi journalist threw his shoe at George W. Bush the other day during a press conference, calling him a "dog".

Bush is lucky he wasn't in Canada - he'd have gotten a mukluk or some moose shit thrown at him, and we'd have called him a "hoser".

Either way, it's better than he deserves.



Later.

Empty Stockings.

Christmas is going to be interesting this year, if only for one reason:

I have absolutely no idea what I want.

Oh, there's things I want; but they are so hideously out of mine and everybody else's price range that there's no way I'm ever going to see them under the tree. (If, on Christmas, I post about getting a Laptop, Garmin 405, and a Sugoi running jacket, I'll take it all back.)

Not knowing what I want has made it increasingly difficult for those around me to get any hints about what to get me. Although I don't think I'm difficult to buy for, everyone else seems to have problems. (Is Porn a gift? Maybe it should be.)

I'm thinking it's going to be a year of gift cards and cash - which isn't a bad thing per se, but half the fun of opening gifts is to see what people got you - the gift gives a little insight to how they see you.

Of course I could be wrong and everyone has gotten me Porn and hand lotion - and a ShamWow to clean up after.

Santa was always good to me...





Later.

I Want My Fat Back.

If there's one thing I miss about the weight I've lost it's this:

Insulation.

Not that I never got cold when I was fat, but I seem to feel it a lot earlier and more severely now. I've been wearing a sweater every day at work for the last two months, and it's been so ass-bitingly cold lately that I contemplated putting a sweater on over the sweater I have.

It's funny, really - I work and I'm cold, then I go to the gym and sweat my nuts off, and return to work to freeze once again.

If I could just find a happy medium....

How many layers do you think I can get away with and not look weird? Three? Four? If I do more than that I won't be able to move my arms.

I'll figure it out - maybe a bonfire in the Dairy Cooler...




Later.

Vertical SleepIng Chambers.

In an effort of improve space and reorganize, we bought the Kids Bunk Beds for their birthdays.

It serves the purpose of freeing up a room to put all the toys into so that they stay out of the other living areas of the house.

(If anyone has inadvertently stepped on Lego while barefoot, you feel my pain.)

The Boys love it, and wouldn't stay off it all day.

Right now, however, they aren't asleep - instead they're chatting and generally keeping each other awake. I just had to go in and "remind" them that they should have been asleep over two hours ago - if this goes on much longer I'll have to separate them the first night.

They'll come around though - and I bet it's less than a week before I post about one of them hurting themselves jumping off the top bunk. Guaranteed. (Call it Daddy's Intuition.)


Later.

Survival Package.

Here's a tip:

The most important piece of equipment to bring on your child's School Field Trip to the Museum isn't a First Aid kit or a Cellphone.

It's a Hip Flask.

Although parts of the museum were interesting, there were certain areas where liberal doses from the flask would have helped. Namely:

1. The Puppet show.
2. Craft Centre.
3. The crazy Old Lady who pretended to be a girl from the 1800s.

I'm pretty sure Granny in the log cabin was hitting the flask pretty hard before we even got there. She was either incredibly cheerful or slightly drunk. Having to deal with that after watching a puppet show in a theater full of screaming children was where my need for the flask came in. Watching puppets describe a partial shipwreck off Quadra Island in 1927 isn't the most stimulating thing for a 36 year old man. My 5 year old? Thought it was incredibly realistic.

Craft Centre was a gong show. Don't they know that giving almost every child a glue stick is asking for trouble? Whoever arranged that debacle should rethink their plans next time.

A couple of nips from the flask would have helped on the bus ride home too - it would have made that game of "I Spy" go much faster.

Next field trip I'm leaving the Swiss Army Knife at home and reaching for the Hip Flask - I'll be prepared for sure.




Later.

John Deere - Not An Avs Fan.

Ever since, I made my bet with the Sidekick, my Avs just keep digging themselves deeper in trouble.

Now, Joe Sakic (the heart, soul, and Captain of the team) has injured himself in an at-home accident with a snow-blower.



Joe's going to be out at least 3 months, which will put him back in time for either a Cup run, or a chance to re-organize his locker (as they'll be so far out of the race it won't matter.) - I'm hoping it's the former.

Why couldn't this have happened to Saku Koivu instead? Then it would be funny.



Later.

Recovery.

Today I woke up tired and dry.

No headache, no hangover, no problem.

Considering that I had somewhere in the range of 20 drinks last night - I'd say I'm in great shape.
(Gin is such a wonderful beverage. I'm giving credit to the limes in my G&T for my ability to bounce back. If they can prevent scurvy, they can hold off my hangover.)

The night was a great success. I had a fantastic time.

Did I win outstanding prizes? Not really, but the point is I enjoyed this Staff Party as much as I've ever enjoyed any previous ones. (And that's saying a lot- believe me.)

Tomorrow will be the true test, though - the first day back at the Gym is going to be a bitch. That, and the photos from the party will probably be on Facebook. (Thank God I don't have that anymore.)

We'll see how that goes.





Later.

Sunday Morning At The Gym.

What the fuck am I doing here?

Why am I putting myself through this?

It's Sunday, for Christ's sake - this is the supposed Day of Rest.

Oh yeah - the Staff Party - if I'm going to drink some G&T and have an assload of Turkey, I'd better finish off this set. Gotta combat the calories I'm going to take in tonight. Sure, I'll burn some off dancing, but unless I dance with 4 women at a time for 2 hours, I'm gonna need to do some cardio. (Don't laugh at the dancing - it's been known to happen.)

There sure are some strange people that go to my Gym on Sundays.

There's a guy doing an exercise I've never seen before - one-legged squats with a medicine ball while balanced on top of a BOSU ball. I automatically assume he's got a subscription to Men's Health. There's another who walks around with his Tim Horton's coffee in between sets - I never knew a double-double was so good at balancing your electrolytes. If he takes much longer between sets, he's going to have to hit the drive-thru before he finishes his workout. I haven't seen Jeans guy in, but I bet he works out with this group.

It's good to get this workout done and out of the way. Now I can go home, shower and relax until tonight.

Free Booze, Turkey, and Prizes - here I come!



Later.

200.

Today I crossed over the 200 mile mark with my Nike+ Sportband.

It took me a month and a half to get the first hundred under my belt, and only 4 days over a month to get the next hundred.

I'd call that progress.

I'd like to roll over 300 by New years, but with the holidays and stuff I think I'll have to juggle my priorities a bit to make it fit. ( "Okay kids- you start opening your Christmas presents, Daddy's just going for a run.") I'll have to try to temper my addictive nature.

The next milestone award that Nike gives out is at the 500 mile mark. If I continue at this pace, I'll have it by March - but considering my Half-Marathon training ramps up in January I should have it sooner than that.


Feets don't fail me now.



Later.

Summation.

As I haven't had much time I thought I'd take a moment to post my random thoughts:

• The backroom maneuvering by the Liberals and NDP to form a Government not elected by the people seems like kids squabbling on the playground - bad enough they had to get the unpopular French kid to go along with thier hijinks.
• Publicly, Sean Avery's comments about "sloppy seconds" were offensive to everyone who heard them. Privately, every guy who has ever played sports has at one time or another said something worse to an opposing player to get them off their game. I once told a guy that his sister and grandmother made a lousy threesome , but I fucked them anyway - and that was in PeeWee Hockey.
• The only thing taking away from my enjoyment of the Vancouver Canucks misery is that my team is still doing slightly worse.
• I'm stoked about the annual Staff Party (Sunday). It's always good times, but this year we are giving away Big Screen T.V's and laptops as prizes, so I hope to make out like a bandit.
• In the craziness surrounding getting ready for the Boy's Birthday party (and Christmas) I almost forgot my Vancouver Trip on the 20th - it wasn't until another guy who's going mentioned it today that I even recalled it. I hope my hangover doesn't kill me like it did last time.
• The best thing about running 8 miles in the morning: Runner's High. (it exists) - the worst thing about 8 miles in the morning: Chaffing. (Never wear regular boxers - always go for Sport.)
• With the Sidekick's main source of communication being text messages and hurried cellphone calls, it's almost like we're secretly dating. (Once again, I remind people he's the Hetro Life-Mate.)
  
• I keep forgetting about the progress I've made physically until I run into people I haven't seen in a long time - if people keep telling me how great I look, I won't be able to fit my egotistical head through the door.
• Life without my Xbox has made me realize one thing: My computer chair isn't as comfortable as my couch.
• Trying to sort out thoughts as random as mine take a bit of doing - having to censor out Boobiesboobiesboobies(actual thought)boobiesboobiesboobiesboobies takes a bit of doing.

Later.

Call Me Petty, But...

Nothing makes me feel better than winning at Poker.

Except taking chips from a real dick, that is.

When I got home tonight, the Wife was playing in an online tournament - she was doing okay, but there was this guy at the table who she said was being a real dick. She got fed up playing and asked if I wanted to finish the game.

I jumped in, and within five minutes had this guy totally pissed at me. Normally I don't say much in chat, but I started lipping this guy off every spare moment. His best comeback was to take shots at my Mom, and that shit hasn't bothered me since grade school.

Cut to ten minutes later when I say he's got no balls and he goes all in with 7/8 offsuit - of course I have pocket Jacks. Bye-bye, loser.

Although it felt good, it takes me back to that old adage:

Winning an argument on the Internet is like winning Gold at the Special Olympics, even if you win you are still a retard!

Welp, call me retarded, then.



Later.

XBox vs. Wii.

With the XBox out of commission, I went to my backup console - the Wii.

Although I liked the Wii when I first purchased it, I really haven't used it all that much - it just doesn't have the games, look, and feel that I enjoy. And lets just face it: the graphics are what keep you playing, and the Wii just doesn't have the same shine.

The XBox is like a hot girl that does nasty things and talks dirty to you while looking back over her shoulder. (Wink wink, nudge nudge.) By comparison, the Wii is a chick who gives great head - you just don't want to look at her while she's doing it.

Their both fun, but it's no contest which one I'd rather be playing.

I haven't even had a chance to ship it oout yet and I already miss it. No games, no streaming video, no nothin'.


This sucks.




Later.

RRoD'd.

Today the unthinkable happened.

You hear about it happening to other people, but you never think it will happen to you. "Other guy's equipment may be faulty, but mine runs like clockwork." you think - unaware that karma is waiting around the corner, ready to kick you in the balls.

Today I got the Red Ring of Death.

(Not to be confused with the Burnin' Ring of Fire, which I got from the chili I ate the other night.)

So what does that mean? I have to pack up my XBox and send it away. They'll either send me a refurbished one, or mine once it's been repaired. Either way, I hope it comes back with a big set of tits working properly.

I'm going to miss it while it's gone. I think I'll be at a loss as to what to do.

Online Poker? Maybe.
Read a Book? I don't know.
Hold my functionless controller, stare at a blank TV screen and cry while I rock back and forth?

Probably.



Later.

Paper Planes.

I've had this song stuck in my head all day, and it won't come out.



If I have to have it in mine, you have to have it in yours.

It's not like it's bad or anything, it's just in there rattling around like mad.

It's good to not suffer alone. Thanks.




Later.

10.0

I reached a milestone today.

This morning I ran 10 miles. (16.09Km)

My previous best was almost as far - 9.3 miles - but my overall pace was faster this time around.

The only downside? I did it on a treadmill. That's right people, I busted my ass on a treadmill for 1 hour and 26 minutes just because I could. (The fact that it was raining like mad at 5:45am helped.) For those of you who think that doing it on a treadmill is easier, let me tell you different - what it lacks in hills and concrete it makes up for in boredom and monotony. Thank God for the Zune or else I would have died. (I also think the heat in the gym is a downside, as I was really sweaty at the end of the run.)

And wouldn't you know it? When I can't run (like right now) it's sunny and gorgeous outside. It doesn't bug me though, because to my legs, 10 miles indoors is the same as 10 miles outside.

On a side note - don't drive a stick-shift after such a long run. Even with stretching, I got a cramp in my calf from pushing in on the clutch. (Lots of stops and starts on my way back home.)

The shower at home was the greatest thing in the world. (But that's all I'm gonna say about that.)

With that pace, it puts my approximate Half Marathon finish time at about 1:54:00 - and I'm shooting for anything under two hours. With over three months to go, I should be able to make that time easily.

Here's to the next level - a couple more 10 milers over the next few weeks, and then I'll push for 13.1!



Later

Exceptions To The Rule.

The other day at work, one of the guys made this general statement about women:

"All girls look better with a cock in their mouth."

(I'm not telling you who it was - it's not really important.)

I do, however, disagree. (Respectfully, of course - am I ever anything but respectful?)

The following are my exceptions to his rule.

1. Queen Elizabeth
2. Janet Reno
3. Rosie O Donnell (I'm not sure if there has ever been one in there, but still...)
4. Kathy Bates
5. My Mom (This also includes any female member of my family - even the "Hot Second Cousin" should there ever be one.)

I think that almost covers it. I'm sure there are others, but I only have so much time. Now while some of these ladies are well within my co-workers standards, I'm just putting this out there as a guide to where he should draw the line. Whether or not he chooses to heed such advice is beyond my control.




Later.

5 Things That Made My Day.

1. Timmy's Coffee at 7:15am as I headed into work. (For some reason, it was like drinking the distilled essence of heaven.)
2. The sun shining on me as I did 4 miles (in 30 minutes) on my lunch hour.
3. The apple I ate after the run. (Fucking Delicious.)
4. The Foo Fighters on the iPod as I got in the car.
   
5. The hug I got from the Boys when I walked in the door.

I know it's bipolar to have such a feel-good post after the last one, but you know what?

I had such a good day I just don't give a damn.




Later.

Two-Faced Bitch

I just found out today that there's this person at work who's been spreading shit about me behind my back.

Apparently I don't live up to this woman's social standards. You'd never know it, though, as she is nice as pie to me when I see her. (Go figure. I guess she can surpress her disgust for the 8 hours a day we spend in the vicinity of each other.)

How did I hear about it? From my bosses. Not in the we-have-a-problem tone, but in the you'll-never-guess-what-so-and-so-said tone. They tried hard not to laugh as they were telling me.

I'm taking it seriously, though - and when I see her in the next couple of days, I'm going to make sure she knows about it.

Fucking Bitch.



Later.

Good Guys Wear White Hats.

Even if they have a Canucks logo on them.

I think I'm one of those people who never look good in pictures. Unless it professionally done or photoshopped, I end up looking washed out and not as lively as I am in real life. (But what can I expect from a webcam, really.)

If I do look tired, it's because I just got back from a nine mile run. (It's amazing what new shoes can do for you.) So please excuse any lack of energy which may appear in the image.

As for the white hat, it's the one I got at the Canucks game The Sidekick and I went to. Would you believe you can't buy a white Colorado Avalanche hat in GM Place?

Enjoy the photo - just don't sell it to the tabloids, kay?



Later.

XBox Alive.

See that character to the right? Yeah - that's me. Or XBox Live's version of me, anyway.

The new console update went through today, meaning that my XBox 360 is now somehow a cousin to the Wii.

I don't really see the point of the avatars. Unless they plan on having some interactive social going on, there's really no use for them. The main thing I'm going to do is play a highly evolved form of dress-up, making the virtual me look like some pimped-out motherfucker.

(Although the way he stands is kinda gay. I hope there's a setting for that. Maybe Stand Like You Tha Bomb? I'll even take Stand Like A Normal Guy - anything's better than what's there. (It looks like my guy is trying to decide whether to head for a latte or go look at fabric swatches.)

For now, it's a nifty addition to something I already use on a regular basis. Will I get more out of it? Who knows.
Does the cartoon me look damn sexy? You bet.



Later.

Literary Wasteland.

I need something good to read.

How bad is it?

Right now I'm reading a novel by William Fucking Shatner, that's how bad it is.

It's not like Captain Kirk is a horrible writer, (he's no Bernhard Schlink, mind you.) but he is the equivalent of going to McDonald's and ordering the Number 2 Combo - you know what you're getting, and when it's there in front of you, there's really no surprise that it doesn't taste that good.

I'm looking for something with a bit of substance. Something that will make me wake up at 3 in the morning and go "So that's what that meant." I want something entertaining and stimulating.


And Shatner's just not doing it for me.

I guess I could peruse the book section at Amazon, and trust in the reviews to tell me whether or not the book is what I'm looking for, but I'd have just as much luck if I let a cow loose in the library and picked the first book it shits on. (Either one is hit or miss.)

Until I can find something, I'll finish off Bill Shatner's magnificent work - that's if I'm not too distracted wiping and flushing. (Eww...gross.)



Later.

It's Not A Race...

Just because I'm posting this hilarious video does not mean I know anything about, nor have anything in common with said topic. (So don't go reading anything into this.)



I'm glad he covered thinking about baseball, but Kathy Bates? Ewwww.... That's just too much.




Later.

Firing Up My Controller.

I'm totally thinking about getting back into Guitar Hero again.




For some reason, I just feel compelled to grab my axe and rock out with my cock out.
(Too many metaphors, right? - I thought so.)




Later

My Body Is Weighing Me Down.

I started a new workout routine today, and it's kicking my ass.

You see, the only weight I use is my body. I know that doesn't sound like much, being as I am a svelte 180 pounds, but when you combine that with 20-30 reps per exercise, it adds up. By the end of the set, I'm gasping and sweating.

The hardest things about this workout are the return of two of my old enemies, the Lunge and the Chinup. It's amazing how one can make my arms ache and the other makes my ass muscles feel like they've had a long weekend in San Francisco. (Ho! A gay joke! Bet you didn't see that coming.)

I think that combining this workout with my Half-Marathon training, (and if I could stop eating peanut butter sandwiches) I should be able to lose those last ten pounds, which seem to be concentrated around my hips. (If I was a girl, I'd be called Muffin Top.) The irony of it all is that if I am successful with the workout I'll actually have to add weight to the routine to balance what I've lost.

But I think I'm up for the challenge.

Now if I can only get my hamstrings to stop cramping, I could get up out of this chair...



Later.

Missing The Point.

I could write something mournful and sad about Remembrance Day. I'd thought about it on my walk to work this morning.

But then I realized I had a hole in the bottom of my shoe, and trying to avoid deep puddles while my sock absorbed about 2 cups of water took up most of my time.

Do you want to know what sucks? Working in wet socks. Do you know what sucks even more? Having a job where you go in and out of freezers frequently - in wet socks.

By the time I went home for lunch and changed, my left foot looked like I had spent two hours in a cold tub. (Not as fun as you think.) Sliding my foot into that warm, clean sock was almost as good as sliding into - well, you know.

But I did make time to stop at 11am and pause to reflect what others have sacrificed so that I may have the leisure to bitch about my feet. It may not sound like much, but to each their own.



Later.

Point of Interest.

- When the Sidekick and I were enjoying beers in the pub, I must have said "I'd like to Blog about that" at least 5 times.

Do you think I can remember any of what I was talking about?

Of course not.

Beer is like WD-40 for my brain - it loosens the cogs, things flow more freely, and I have insights into the true workings of the Universe. (Or at least it feels that way at the time.) I should make it a priority to have at least three beer before I blog. I think you'd find things a bit more interesting around here, that's for sure.


That sounds like a good policy - Has anyone seen my can opener?


Later

10 Things I Learned About Vancouver.

So I'm back from Vancouver, and now that the Hangover has settled down, I'd like to share some things I learned from my little trip...

1. In the downtown core, you can pass a coffee shop every 16 feet, but trying to find a place to buy offsales is nigh-impossible. (It's do-able, but you have to work at it.)
   
2. The bus ride from the ferry to downtown is shorter if you chug 4 beer just before you leave the boat. (Who cares if it's 9am?)
3. If your bladder is bursting from the beer, the Hotel Vancouver has the swankest public washrooms out there.
4. Convincing your waitress at the Library Square Pub to not light the candle at the table is harder than it seems. (If two guys are sitting together, isn't the candle-lit dinner kinda gay?) However, the yam fries and beer were worth the hassle.
5. If you go to a Canucks game, Club seats are the way to go. Sure it's $18 for two beer, but they bring them to your seat!
6. Going to a crowded bar (The Roxy) in Vancouver is just like going to a crowded bar in Campbell River.(Except there's less flannel in Vancouver, and the urine stench is slightly less.)
   
7. Skytrain? Cool to ride. Skytrain at 1:30am, singing with a bunch of Brazilians? Priceless.
8. Driving to the Ferry from Port Coquitlam is probably more bearable when you aren't a steaming pile of hangover, but it still sucks shit.
9. My Weekly $10 buy-in Poker game is nothing compared to the stacks of chips I saw being moved around at the Edgewater's Poker Tables. If I'm feeling ballsy I'll give it a try.
   
10. I can't wait to go back - December 20th won't come fast enough.

So next to having to be at work the next evening, (Still hung) it was a great trip - I had a blast with the Sidekick. As I said before, I can't wait to go again - although I think I'll pace myself a bit better. (Maybe just 2 beer before 9am.)

We'll see how that goes.



Later.

Different Strokes

Let me be the one blogger today who isn't talking about the election in the States.

Sooo..... How about them Canucks?

Anyone?

Hello?

Beuller?

Oh, fuck it - I can't say anything about the election that Bish didn't already say here. I could add to it by saying that I feel it wasn't so much that people were voting the Democrats in as they were voting the Republicans out - the same backlash happened in B.C. after the NDP royally fucked things up. Did it help having a charismatic, well-liked leader like Obama? Sure it did - but the main thing he had going for him was his slogan - Change. That's what people really wanted.

We'll see how long the honeymoon lasts - it didn't matter who won the election, they aren't going to get a lot of time to prepare. People want Change and they want it now. (Trust me, if they can't wait 3 minutes for fresh McChickens in the Drive-Thru, they sure aren't going to wait 4 years for fiscal solvency.)

So..... Back to the Canucks...

Ah, fuck it .



Later.

Fall Back.

Guess what I forgot to do?

That's right - I totally forgot about Daylight Savings. (Thankfully I forgot in the fall, when it means I'm early instead of late.) I bounded out of bed ready to go to the gym, and instead had to wait around for an hour before it opened. By that time the kids were up and then there was no chance to leave.

Ergo, I didn't go to the gym today.
(Don't you feel bad for me?)

It's good to take this day of rest, enjoy the (kinda) extra hour I did get, and get back to the routine tomorrow.

Does that mean it'll be dark at 3pm now? Thank God for my white legs - I won't be hit by a car while I'm running.




Later.

Five Score

Eight minutes into my seven-mile run today, I crossed the 100 Mile mark.

Since September 14th, when I got my Nike+ Sportband, I've logged just over 106 miles. I know that I've ran more than that distance since I've started running, but it's nice to track it this way and have something to mark these milestones.

One Hundred miles seems like a lot, and I'm happy to achieve it. But it pales in comparison to the program I'm on now - training for the Comox Valley Half-Marathon - that has me on pace to do 233 miles by mid-January. I'll even have to extend it by a couple of weeks as the run isn't until March. (Basically maintenance runs.)

Look at all those miles...

I think I'm going to need another pair of shoes.



Later.

Daddy's Field Trip.

Ironically, immediately after I posted about the Boy's field trip I got the chance for one of my own. The Sidekick and I are going to a Hockey game!

Yep - this time next week, (Thursday) I'll be watching the Canucks battle it out with the Coyotes at GM Place. Of course, I'll have some free time before the game, so maybe stopping by the casino he's always raving about will be an option - that or beer - I haven't decided yet.

Look out Vancouver - here I come.


Later.

Roll In The Hay.

Today was The Boy's class visit to the local pumpkin patch/farm.

When my wife mentioned it to me last week, I laughed - "Have fun with 25 screaming kids & the farm animals in the mud." The smile vanished from my face when she told me it was on my day off, and since she's working, I got the pleasure of the farm animals. (I know that sounds dirty, but it's not.)

With our boots and gloves on, The Boy and I boarded the School Bus for the drive to the farm. On the way I noticed there was only one other Dad, and he was being hen-pecked by his wife, who was also along. Since the kids were entertaining themselves, the honor fell to me to entertain all the Mommys. ( It ain't easy being me.)

The hay ride was probably the best part, although being chased by a flock of sheep (that's what it's called, ask Wikipedia) hell-bent on catching the wagon and feasting on it's hay-ee goodness isn't as exciting as I make it out to be. The kids enjoyed the hay-bale maze the most - being able to see over two bales high kind of ruins it for all the adults.

I enjoyed the visit though, and The Boy had a blast - he's already talking about going back next year - I think when your 5, being in a place that's mostly dirt and mud is like being in a place that's all coffee and porn when you're 36. It may be dirty, but it's a hell of a lot of fun.


Speaking of which, when's Daddy's field trip? That's what I want to know.




Later.

Half-Day Blues.

There's something inherently frustrating about busting your ass to get all the extras at work done - and your boss deciding that, since we are so far ahead, He's going to take a half day and enjoy the sun.

Glad I put out all that effort.

Bitter? Who, me?
Nah...



Later.

You Know You're Canadian When..

While watching The Love Guru (Yes, I know.), the main thing that bothers you is the fact that Rob Blake takes a faceoff against the hero of the movie, Darren Roanoke.

Two elephants humping on the ice I can believe, but a defenseman taking a faceoff in Game Seven of the Stanley Cup Finals? Not even when Crawford was behind the bench would the Kings have pulled stupid shit like that.

Mike Meyers is a hockey fan. The fact that this made it into production goes to show that he was focused more on Jessica Alba's ass than what was happening on the ice.

For shame, Mike - for shame.

(I completely understand your fascination, Mike - there is nothing else redeemable about her, but Jessica Alba has a damn fine ass.)

Later.

"We Don't Make Singles, We Make Albums."

Yes, Angus - and each one sounds the same as the one before it.

AC/DC - I just don't understand the popularity.

I have an appreciation for them (as does any child of the 80's), but everything they've released has sounded the same, from Who Made Who to The Razor's Edge. There's no variety or growth - just more of what we heard before.

It's pretty sad that most people I know couldn't tell the new AC/DC single on the radio from something Airborne released months ago.

Angus and the boys don't have to worry about me downloading their latest, though - I'll hear it the same way I always do - coming from the speakers in some mullet-head's IROC as he's driving by on his way to the gun range.



Later.

V.P.I.L.F.

There's something about Sarah Palin that seems to entice male voters.

Maybe it's that fact that she's from a rough-and-tumble state, hunts, fishes, and is that state's most powerful figure. She seems like one of those women who you could hang out with, shoot the shit, have some brews and a barbecue.

Maybe it's the fact that she looks like a trashy librarian, and I'm bringing back my books 3 months overdue. (Bow-chica-wow-wow.)

Whatever it is, I lost it when she first opened her mouth. Something about her voice is both fascinating and repulsive at the same time. Listening to her talk is like hearing an audio recording of the movie Fargo.

Thank God a picture is worth a thousand words - because I couldn't take listening to her.




Later.

Maybe She Needs Glasses...

Tonight at work I had a woman tell me my looks remind her of a combination of Edward Norton & Chandler Bing.

I'm taking it as a compliment. (Wouldn't you?)

Now I'm just trying to figure out if she was hitting on me or just being polite in order to get access to cheap Dairy Products.

If she told me I had the rugged maniless of Dave Grohl, I'd be onto her like white on rice.




Later.

It's A Miracle, All Right.

Yeah, that's me sprinting towards the finish line at the Miracle Beach 10K.

The picture quality is lousy, but it's either because my Wife is really bad with the camera or I'm moving too fast to catch on film. (Let's go with the later.)

Considering the fact that I haven't ran more than 10 minutes at a time all week, I did really well. I set a new personal best for myself (49:40) and surprisingly enough, came in 4th in my age group.

Of course I'm hobbled in pain as I write this, but that's part of the dream, right?


The two big differences between this run and the last? The potholes in the road and the 3K section past a farm which reeked of cowshit. (That's really great when you're huffing and puffing that in, let me tell you.)

But it was an enjoyable day in the end, and that's what counts.

As soon as my hip heals up a bit, I think I'll start training for my next race. (Whatever that's going to be.)



Later.

Worst Sidekick Ever.

On my recent visit to Victoria I made a couple of purchases at The Twin's Comic Book Store. (I get the discount - it's sweeet.)

One of the purchases I made is to the right - Showcase Presents Green Lantern. I've always been a fan of the Emerald Gladiator, and a chance to get so many GL stories in one volume was too good to pass up.

Now my knowledge of the Green Lantern is from when I was a kid - we're talking 1978-79 before I was reading lots of comics. So this early presentation of Green Lantern threw me off a bit at first. Sure, everything I knew is there - Test Pilot, The Guardians, Green Power Battery, you name it - but there's something extra - Green Lantern had a Sidekick.

Looking back, it's not surprising - Green Arrow has Speedy, Flash has Kid Flash, Aquaman has Aqualad, Batman has Robin, and even Superman had Jimmy Olsen. So for GL to have a Sidekick as well made sense, except for one little thing.

His Sidekick was an Eskimo.

Not that there's anything wrong with that - if GL was an Arctic Superhero. But in the comics, he works in what would be the equivalent of California/Nevada - so the Eskimo guy seems out of place.

Oh yeah, his name? Pieface. Isn't that the most racially sensitive name ever? Combined with his trademark catchphrase, (wait for it....) "Jumpin' Fishooks!" it's about as subtle as a punch to the nose. I guess DC Comics didn't have a lot of subscriptions to the Arctic Circle, as it seems they aren't really worried about offending their customer base. (He was also Hal Jordan's mechanic, or as they called him, "Greasemonkey" - so yeah, Pieface the Greasemonkey. It works, right?)

But not only was this guy constantly getting into trouble, but he did the worst thing ever for someone who knows a Superhero's secret identity - he kept a journal. Complete with sentences like "My friend Hal Jordan (who is secretly Green Lantern..) blah blah blah". I know it doesn't seem like much in 1964, but that's like having a Facebook Group titled "Join if you want to know all my Hero's Secrets".

I haven't finished the book yet, but I'm hoping that GL dumps the Sidekick soon. I know it happens, as he wasn't there when I started reading GL all those years ago - but I want to see how these masters of subtlety handle it. My guess is they'll have him perish from choking on Whale blubber during a break from Polar Bear hunting. (In Nevada.)


And it won't be a moment too soon.



Later.

It's A Schooner.

I've never been able to see anything when I look at those Magic Eye pictures.

That guy from Mallrats , William? Yeah- I'm like him. I could stare for hours and it just wouldn't work.

Until today.

I'm waiting at the Dentist's office - the Boy is getting some work done - and after having read all the Reader's Digests and Newsweeks, I grabbed a Magic Eye book to try and keep The Youngest Child entertained. (It was my turn.) I didn't think he'd see anything, but he might like the colors.

After looking for a minute, it just clicked.

All of a sudden I could see planets, rainbows, zebras, trees, and even a schooner (pirate ship). After giving the Youngling back to the Wife I spent the next 15 minutes flipping through the book, laughing like an idiot. How do I know it was like an idiot? The moment the Wife said " Quit it - you look like some freak on acid." Trust me baby - acid doesn't have this clear of a picture.

It's opened up a whole new world to me - I think I'll hit the garage sales and pick up all those old Magic Eye books and posters everybody is throwing out. I might even smoke pot again. (Does it help?)

Enjoy.






Later.

Talking, But Not To Each Other.

I walked into the store to pay for my gas - got in line and waited.

The guy in front of me, at the counter? On his cellphone.

The clerk serving him? On the phone. (Cordless job - wedged in between ear and shoulder.)

The other clerk? On her cellphone as well.

I pulled out my phone and placed it against my ear.
I didn't call anyone - I just wanted to look important too.



Later.

Status Quo.

Unless something changes after I go to bed, it looks like the Canadian Government will look almost exactly the same as it did before the polls opened.

It seems that as Canadians, we just don't give a shit.

Only 58% of the population (who were eligible) voted. That means that almost half the country don't even care who's running the joint - as long as we can still drink Molson and eat Poutine, everything's Ok.

Something's wrong with that picture.

This was the year I heard everyone talking about voting strategically. It's great in theory, but it falls short when the strategy for 42% of voters is to sit at home and do nothing.

If you don't vote, you can't bitch.

And that's the most important thing of all.



Later.