Seat of All Knowledge.

I post more pictures of toilets than I do of my kids.

In the circles I travel in, I'm kind of known as a bright guy. Not Einstein-level smart, but the type of guy that people usually come to with questions because I either know the answer or know how to find it. I'm that guy you know who knows a little bit about a lot of stuff.

(Remember that roommate you had who kicked your ass every time Jeopardy was on? That's me.)

I have a secret to confess - it's not schooling that filled my head full of information;

There were no long hours of study in the library;

I don't peruse Wikipedia on a daily basis;

I just have a huge collection of Bathroom Readers.

You remember books, right? The thing people used to take to the bathroom before smartphones were invented?

While I don't have every single Bathroom Reader - I have a lot. What started out as a inside joke for a stocking stuffer at Christmas years ago has turned into a twice-yearly easy gift for anyone that knows me. It's a guarantee that if there is a wrapped, brick-like object under the tree or beside the cake, someone has bought me a Bathroom Reader. (Unless, you know, they bought me an actual brick - but that would just be weird.)

I usually break convention and read them outside the confines of the bathroom, but I'm still able to soak up all the information - I don't think there's a direct correlation between the two.

I like them because they wrap up useful information in a format that is entertaining and not strenuous to read - I guess they figured if you were reading their books in the bathroom, you were straining enough already. They also cover a wide variety of topics that I wouldn't normally read about. Sorry to disappoint any Americans out there, but most of what I know about your history comes from these books and Hollywood.

For years, I thought this photo was pretty accurate.

There is one drawback to the knowledge that gets gleaned from these tomes: it's running into someone who knows the same information because they got it from the same source.

I was having a conversation the other day at work, and the subject got around to Bananas - I work in a grocery store, what do you expect? - we were talking about crops, rotation, suppliers and such, and I quoted a couple of statistics and facts that I had read about in the Bathroom Reader I got for Christmas.  As soon as the words left my mouth, one of the guys I work with looks a me and says "Hey - I was just going to say that! I've got that Bathroom Reader too!" - we had a pretty good laugh about it.

So the next time you come across some who seems to be a bit of a know-it-all, don't hate them or be in awe of their intellect - just understand that they read something other than US Weekly or the shampoo bottle while they are going about their business.







Later.

*Uncle John's did not pay me or give me anything to write about Bathroom Readers - if they want to, I'm totally cool with that. I believe the term is "Blogwhorin".

Odiferous Prostitute.

Today was a clean-and-organize day.

 About as much fun as you'd think.

I'm not going to lie and tell you that my house is now indexed and cataloged like an OCD librarian's lingerie drawer - it's not even close. But I did make an dent in the list of things to be done.

I took care of the bathrooms.


Exciting, eh?

Before I got down to the scrubbiness, I started rearranging my section of the medicine cabinet, and that's when one thing became abundantly clear:

I'm a cologne whore.

To be fair, I like smelling good. Working with the public for as long as I have has taught me that if you are going to be in close proximity to other people throughout any part of your day, it's your obligation to make sure you don't smell like a rancid goat. (If you work with rancid goats, my apologies and please disregard the previous statement.) I've encountered staff and customers who smelled worse than I would if I'd ran a marathon in +45 degree weather (104 Fahrenheit, for my American readers) with a half a cabbage under each armpit. I'm sure that's a recipe for some type of Eastern-European soup or something. (I'm sure my pits would be more effective than some crock pots.)

So let's just say personal odor is important to me.

I guess I just never noticed how much.

Smellin' like a sexy athlete in just two sprays.

Is seventeen bottles excessive? Is that over the acceptable level?

Just for clarity, I don't wear them all at once.

I have some standards scents that I wear more than others, but I do follow a loose rotation so I don't run out of my favorites (I don't have a chart up or anything, I'm not that obsessive). Most days I just grab a bottle, take a wiff, and go with what appeals to me.

It wasn't until I got them all together that it hit me how many there were. It looks like I could go into a department store and sell them stuff.

I think I should try a different one each day and see if anyone really comments.

Customer: "Hey, weren't you working here yesterday?"
Me: "Yes, I was."
Customer: "How come yesterday you smelled like an ocean breeze with a hint of vanilla and citrus, and today you smell like sandalwood and musk?"
Me: "Ummm..."

I'm not sure, though - isn't the point of cologne be that you don't really notice it?

Doesn't matter - all those bottles sure look pretty all lined up in a row.

Remember - if you come across a guy in the Grocery store who smells like perfection and talks like an angel, it's only me.







Later.

Fuck You, 5am.

Is that too bitter?

Don’t get me wrong - I’m enjoying my new routine - the legs are a little bit sore from the different weight program, but everything seems great so far - with one exception:

5am sucks.

I used to do it no prob - 5am, jump out of bed, head to the gym or out for a run. But when I started letting things slide this summer, the first thing to change was how much I hit the snooze button. Not good.

I read somewhere that the best way to establish a habit is to do it (or not do it, as the case may be) for 21 days. After 3 weeks, your body adjusts to the change and you just accept it. So my goal is to make sure that I’m getting up for that morning workout or run on a regular basis.

Yesterday the combination of getting up at 5, the new weight workout, and heading back from holidays to bust my ass at work had me in bed by 10:15! (Really - how sad is that?) Today is the same, except now it’s a night shift, which meant that the whole night drrrrraaaggged. (Sure, I could have slowed down and left myself with work to keep me busy, but that’s not how I roll.) And do you know how hard it is to stay awake when there’s nothing to do? I felt like taking a nap on the Bakery Table - and don’t say coffee, the stuff at work is a crime against man.

But I overcame that, and soon it’ll be Marathons while shoulder-pressing 120lbs on 4 hours sleep.

Ha! If that’s the case I must be dreaming - I’m off to bed.

5am comes early, ya know.


Later.

A Long Day.

Today was my Long Run Day.

Technically, it's supposed to be tomorrow, but really - when you set out to run 22 miles, does it really matter what day of the week it is? Didn't think so.

The thing that weirds me out about my long runs lately is that I start out in the darkness of the morning (6:30), and before I'm even two-thirds done, the sun is up and the day has completely changed. Sometimes it almost feels like I've been running from one day to the next.

To tell the truth, I'm disappointed in my long runs. Last week, I was supposed to do 20 miles, and came up three-quarters of a mile short because my hip flexor was bugging me, and this week I was 1.5 miles short because of a leg cramp. (I know it was a hydration issue, but it just kills me.) The fact is, after 20 miles, I think my body just says "What the fuck are you doing?'

My Body's going to learn that I'm the one in charge.

I don't have anymore long runs until the Marathon on October 11th. The longest I run is 12 miles. (Ha! Two years ago I would have called you crazy to think I'd run 12 miles. Now I don't consider it "Long".) So now's the time to rest between runs, and just try and stay healthy and injury-free.

As for the Marathon, I'm still hopeful of my time - still want under 4hrs, and as close to 3:30 as possible. I'm confident in my training, and know that between that and adrenaline on race day, I'll do just fine.



Later.

37

1. Atomic Number for Rubidium - 37
   
2. "Normal" Human Body Tempurature - 37° C
3. Holes in the mouthpiece of a rotary phone - 37
4. Number of times Elaine slept with Jerry on Seinfeld - 37
5. Number of plays Shakespeare wrote - 37
6. Seconds it took the Hindenburg to burn - 37
7. Height of the "Green Monster" at Fenway Park, in feet - 37
8. Number of Miracles in the Bible - 37
9. Dicks that Dante's girlfriend has sucked, including him - 37
10. First irregular prime number - 37
11. Characters available for use in personalized license plates - 37
12. Vertebrate in the tail of a Tyrannosaurus Rex - 37
13. Miles equal to 59.5 kilometers - 37
14. Numbers on a French Roulette Wheel - 37
15. Skeletal muscles used to move the Human hand - 37
16. Percentage of men that fantasize about their coworkers - 37
17. Points in a perfect bridge hand - 37
18. Cast members in "Les Mis" - 37
19. Weeks "Thriller" was #1 on the Billboard charts - 37
20. Elephants Hannibal had with him on his conquest of Rome - 37
21. Number of times Monica Lewinsky was cleared to enter the White House after she stopped working there - 37 (wink, wink)
22. Seconds from sighting of iceberg to collision with Titanic - 37
23. Yards in first touchdown pass in Super Bowl history - 37
24. Genes in the Mitochondrial Chromosome - 37
25. Percentage of an AMC Pacer that is glass - 37
26. Alphabetically, where the Casanovas are in my Zune artist listings - 37th
27. Twitter's rank on Alexa's Top 500 sites (as of today) - 37
28. Black Eyed Peas ranking on Amazon's Bestsellers in Music - 37
29. Year Nero (Roman emperor, not Star Trek villain) was born, AD - 37
30. Number of unidentified radio signals received from space - 37
31. Number of the Dease Lake Highway in northern B.C. - 37
32. How many times I stared at Google while typing this out - 37
33. Number of angels dancing on the head of a pin, at any given time - 37
34. Pounds of spices in the World's Largest Meatloaf - 37
35. Tracks in a collection of Beethoven's Symphonies -37
36. Number of minutes it takes, at minimum wage, to earn enough to by a Big Mac - 37
37. Years since I was born - 37

Yep - it's my Birthday today.
Punch and Pie, people - Punch and Pie.



Later.

Stand Alone Dad.

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The Most Disgusting Thing in The World.

I don't mind dealing with the general public at work - but there's one thing they do that disgusts me more than anything else, and it involves tissue.

(Don't even think it - I'm not going in the direction you're thinking.)

For some reason, as I'm walking about doing my job, I always seem to find some tissue that someone has inadvertently dropped on the floor. (At least I hope it's by accident - if they're doing it on purpose it'll piss me off.)

I'm always loathe to pick it up.

I know it's probably nothing - just fell out of some old ladies pocket - but I still cringe when I pick it up.

How do I know what's in there? Could be snot, mucus, blood - could be the tears of a sainted angel for all I know - but the act of reaching out and picking it up off the floor is enough to gag me.

It's just awful.

I think I'll start to carry one of those metal hot-dog sticks around - that way I can just stab the tissue, and not even have to have it come near me. I think that would work.

Or I could just ignore it and keep on walking - that's what everyone else does.



Later.

Step Up.

There's been a bit of a shuffle at work.

Our Head/General Manager has quit, and that means that things are going to change fairly quickly. I don't think it's a bad thing, as it only looks good for me.
More money, better environment, and an opportunity for advancement.

You see, I'm in the favored group for the "regime change" as we've come to call it at work. I'm still doing the same job, but my opinions count a lot more with the new leadership. In fact, after it was announced that my old Boss was leaving, I had three phone calls (happened on my day off) telling me that I shouldn't worry and I'll be looked after.

After the corporate mess and double talk (except from the Sidekick) at the last job, it's a good thing to hear.

I'm already enjoying the change - I've been working the last two days and already I can see how the pressure's going to be and where I'm going to fit in. More responsibility, sure, but also more perks and more input into the operation of the "Big Picture" - and isn't that what we all want to be - part of the Big Picture?

There may be some growing pains, as we're moving people around from other locations and forming a mix of people that haven't ever worked together before, but it shouldn't be that bad - I'm optimistic about the whole thing.


(Please don't quote this post if I'm bitching about work in three weeks time.)


Change is good.
Let's keep it that way.




Later.

Fool of April.

April Fools is the only Holiday on the Calender that you really outgrow.

No matter what your age, you still acknowledge Christmas, St Patrick's and even Valentine's Day. But April Fool's? That's the one you leave behind.

There's something about pranking other people that just doesn't translate well to the age I'm at now. I think as I matured, I grew to understand that Saran Wrapping a toilet bowl may seem hilariously funny, but it's also a huge, disgusting mess. Yes, Son, that shit is funny - just not when it's on my floor.

Sure, there's always one guy who's still out greasing doorknobs and trying to fool those around him. But to me, it seems like they're just tolerated now, not revered like they were when I was 9.

There were no pranks pulled in my life today.


And I don't really feel bad about that.


Shit, I'm getting old.




Later.

Of All The Songs In All The World...

This retard has to cover "Africa" by Toto?

I know it's been out for over a year, but this song is getting a lot of airplay at the local radio station, which means I hear it at least 4 times a day at work. It's not that it's horrible, it's just that it's ..Toto.





The worst part with the song is that it gets stuck in your head - over and over and over again. And the last thing I want in my head is Toto - they weren't there in the Eighties, and they certainly don't belong there now.




Later.

In Between Goals.

I'm kinda lost.

Having finished my Half Marathon and winning the weight loss contest I was in, I'm all out of goals. I know, I know - most intelligent people would have planned for what they were going to do after achieving their goals, but if you've been reading this blog for any amount of time, you'll understand I don't really operate that way.

So what is it that I want to do?

My next big run is in October, so the training for that is out - but I think I'll keep doing the mileage - I don't want to stop that. Running 20-25 miles a week should keep me where I want to be.

I do still have that last 6 pounds to go, and I did get all this weight loss stuff in my prize package, so - I think with a slight change in my weight routine, I'll be pretty good to go. Maybe I can get my BF% down to 16-17%.

I think this year, I'm going to get a tan. I have the fake 'n bake passes, (yet another prize) and with running outside when it gets warmer, maybe nature can help with the rest. It would be nice not to be translucent for at least one summer.


Well look at that - I've got some goals.

Thanks, Internet - what would I do without you?




Later.

Rumors of My Demise...

.. have been greatly exaggerated.

With the Twin's family up for the Nephew's Hockey tourney, the last couple of days have been really hectic - hence no blogging. Having two extra kids in a house the size of mine is enough to throw anything off kilter, and being able to coherently form thoughts wasn't part of the bargain.

But I can tell you some things I've learned:

• I miss the extra padding my lard ass used to have - sitting in the stands at the Arena would have been warmer and more pleasant with a few extra pounds of padding back there.
• Tim Horton's Roll Up The Rim is a piece of shit. I haven't won a damn thing since it started this time, and that's just not right for a guy that drinks as much as I do. When's my time Lord? When's my time?
• I am pretty much the greatest Rock Band vocalist ever. I may not sound good to me or anyone else, but that game thinks I'm fucking amazing. 96-100% on almost every song? God, I'm good.
• If the weather in Courtenay is as shitty next Sunday as it was in Campbell River today, I'm going to be one wet Half-Marathoner. The fact that it's less than a week away now kinda freaks me out.
• The more I see one, the more I want an iPhone.
• As much as I was dreading the weekend, tomorrow's going to be just as bad - I have to do my last long run (10+ miles) , weigh in for the final of the weight-loss contest I joined, and get the Boy to school on time - then my day can start. (It'll only be 8:30am then.)

I'm going to get some sleep - but don't worry, you'll hear from me.



Later.

Work Sucks.

The first day back at work after holidays always sucks.

It's not about the job, or what you're doing, it's just that it's work.
You are being paid to be somewhere and do something in a place when you'd rather be somewhere else doing something different.

I think I'm going to have to step up my early retirement plans...

Anyone know where the nearest Lotto retailer is?



Later.

Why Is It.....

That hippies seem to think they have all the answers to the world's problems?

I was sitting on the ferry coming back from Vancouver, and this dirtbag behind me starts spouting off about how he can save the Canadian way of life if the government just gave everyone 35,000 a year to live off of and we all became more thrifty in our everyday ways. He thought that that would eliminate the socio/economical gap that exists in our country, and we'd all be sitting around the campfire, eating Naniamo bars and taking hits off the bong.

Sure, I could have moved if I really wanted, but the ferry was full and I really didn't want to beat up a random 8 year old just to take their seat. (That's so 80's.)

I'm glad that my dreadlocked friend has all the country's problems solved - it's a load off my mind, that's for sure. Now I can worry about the real important things, like how all this Fall Out Boy music got on my Zune.




Later.

Port Coquitlam in a Nutshell...

• Woody's Pub: Rock Pub, Couger Bar, crazy people. Sang "Don't Stop Believeing" and "Jesse's Girl" at the top of my lungs.


• Unknown Country Bar: Yes, I went there - Bar Band plays Def Leppard. In country, no less - I think Joe Elliot would be shocked to hear "Hysteria" with a harmonica.
• Denny's @ 3am : And I thought Sally Jo's was bad, back in the day...


• IHOP: Not what you'd think. I was disapointed. Full, but disapointed.


• Coquitlam Centre Mall: More people than I can shake a stick at, and they were all in my way. Every store was crowded, and walking was a chore.

More when I get back.....

Later.

At Least I Have A Warm Heart...

There's really only one disadvantage to working in the Dairy/ Freezer section - cold hands.

Sure, I have gloves, but they are pretty much useless, and eventually, my hands get used to a certain level of chilliness - I don't even notice how cold they are.

Until I have to use the washroom.

The shock of cold hand on warm ... member is, for lack of a better word, disagreeable. For a moment, I thought my penis was in full retreat and trying to hide somewhere behind my lower intestine.

Needless to say, the next time I had to use the facilities, I washed my hands with warm water, dried, and then coaxed Mr. Happy out to frolic.

It's just more pleasant all around.


And sanitary, now that I think about it.



Later.

Things I Learned This Weekend...

1. When you tell your wife you're going out for a couple of drinks and will be home by 11:45, don't get piss-drunk with your Sidekick, leave your cellphone in the car, and come home at 2:45am.
2. Make sure you don't have to attend a Six-Year Old's Birthday party the next morning either - the noise level is not conducive to your altered state.
3. Moxie-sizeing your Gin and Tonic? Not a bad idea. Porn Stars at the Bar? Bad Idea.
4. Don't run into people from work at the bar - the next day, everybody from work knows what you were up to.
   
5. Going to work is actually the best thing for you - it keeps you moving and somewhat focused. (As long as you stay moving - whatever you do, don't stop moving.)
   
6. Running 10 miles Monday Morning really gets whatever toxins are left in your system out. It sucks, but it works.
7. I have moves like a mad pimp.

Later.

Large & In Charge.

I was In Charge today.

Imagine a scenario in which the President is dead, (think Bush, not Obama.) and the Vice President is incapacitated. Half of the House is out with the flu, so who's in charge?

Eventually you work your way down to someone inconsequential, like the Secretary of Agriculture, who by the power of the Presidential Succession Act, takes charge if no one else can.

Today I was the Secretary of Agriculture.

With two of my bosses on Vacation and another one on his day off, I alone wielded the power in my corner of the world.

And it was Good.

I'd like to say that it was all fun and games, but to tell you the truth, I was bored out of my mind. When you delegate as efficiently as I do, you end up leaving nothing for yourself. (Although that coffee won't drink itself, will it?)

All and all the day was fun, hopefully I get to do it again soon with out having to have someone bumped off.

Now that's career advancement....



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.

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.