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.