The Buck Stops...Where?

I think that one of the central problems with the religion of Islam is that no-body's in charge.

Think about it.

If it was Catholics rioting over some cartoons about Jesus, you know for sure that the Pope,(Evil as he is,) would be calling for peace and condemning those who are the cause of the riots. The Church may not look favorably upon said caricatures, but you can at least look to their leader to ensure that the fervent beliefs of his followers don't cast a black mark on the entire religion.

If some newspaper published funny drawings of Joesph Smith, the Mormon Elders would be all over it. They would not encourage rioting or the storming of embassies. (I don't believe there are Danish embassies in Utah, but you know where I'm going.)

But nobody is in charge of the Muslim Religion, and that's a problem. There is no central figure who can be counted on to rein in the more ardent worshipers of the faith. It's mob rule, and everyone knows how that works out. (I know that there might be some kind of Hierarchy, but I checked on Wikipedia and could not find anything.)

So somebody has to take charge. I know George Bush would gladly do it, but that is like asking Beelzebub to take charge of the Sunday School class.
I know that the Muslims are upset about the drawings, but if there was a central figure who could express the Islamic people's disapproval and get a formal apology, then I'm sure it never would have degenerated into the stinking mess it's at now.

Where does it go from here? Who knows.
But I'm going to doodle more carefully from now on. (Least I offend a passing Jedi.)

Later.

Keeping The Streak Alive.

Too tired and frustrated to really write anything, yet writing gives me a sense of calmness and continuity. Thus I find myself quickly jotting something down before I must retire for the evening. (If possible.)

All of you just wait until I'm well rested, then it'll be all snappy answers and quick comebacks.
None of this lame-ass meandering.

You wait and see.

Wonder Twin Powers, Activate!

Later.

Paternal Dilemma

My Dad was admitted into the Psyche Ward today.

He's been depressed for a while now, and was on some medication for it, but due to complications he had to be weaned off those meds and given different ones. Since he was weaned off the original ones, he's never been the same.

My family doesn't talk about shit like this, so I've found out the severity of this only recently, probably just around the start of December. We got together for a family thing, and something about Dad wasn't right. You see, like me, my Dad is a talker, and he'll go on forever if you let him, especially if he's in the mood to bitch. But that evening, he was so quiet and had so little input that it was unnerving. I mentioned this to my mother, and she calmly told me what was going on. (Everything in my family is calm, we don't cause a ruckus about shit like mental health.)

Fast forward to the new year and things seem to be better. Dad appears to be back to his normal self, and no information about anything being out of the ordinary is coming my way.

I get home from work and the message is passed on: Call your Mother.

I phone Mom and she tells me that Dad has been admitted to the care of the Regional Psychiatric Care Society at the hospital. I'm quite in shock, and she's saying that earlier in the day he was talking funny. Not funny ha-ha, funny "It's not worth carrying on", "What's the point of life". Mom recognized that something wasn't kosher, and called one of my Dad's friends to come and take him to the local hospital for a consult with the Crisis Nurse. Once there, they all, Dad included, decided it was best for him to be admitted. Dad was then sent to the Regional Facility.

When I was on the phone with my Mother, it didn't seem serious. It was all surreal 'cause she's so calm about it. I chalk it up to professionalism, (Mom's a Nurse) and she's telling me what went on. Then she asks me to phone and tell my Brother what is going on.

Now don't get me wrong, I have no problems phoning my Brother. But when ever anything is going on, it's always me who has to phone him, nobody else from the family will. That's not fair to him. He should be hearing from the source, not second hand through me.

When I explain that to her, then she starts crying. Now I know something is really wrong, people. Let me make this clear. My Mother does NOT cry. She is the epitome of strong womanhood, and tears are reserved for only serious occasions. My heart beats a little faster as I calm her down, tell her I'll call my Brother and I also double check that there are people coming to be with her. I tell her I'll check with her tomorrow, and I also arrange to meet with her before I go see Dad.

It'll be a couple of days before I can see Dad, but that will give him time to settle down and give me time to adjust to what to do. I'm not 100% sure how to handle this, and I want to convey my support and love without causing him any embarrassment. Don't ask why I fell he'd be embarrassed, I just think he will be.

Dad breakin' down and Mom actually crying?

Two of my pillars just started crumbling.

Later.

Hut, Hut, Hike.

Well, it's just about that day.
You know the one I'm talking about.
I shouldn't even have to type it in here, it's so obvious.

I don't really understand the fascination with the Super Bowl.
I mean, I like the concept of a one-game, winner-take-all format, but when did it start to become it's own entity, when the events surrounding and occurring during the game became larger than the game itself?
And I'm not talking about Janet's breast. Yet.

I find the Super Bowl is a lot like Christmas, Thanksgiving or any of the "Event" holidays that litter the calendar. I'm excited about the possibility of it, but by the time it actually rolls around, I'm sick to death of the hype, the bullshit and the incessant media coverage. I just want the damn thing to end so we can get back to living in the really real world.

And like I said, it's not so much about the game anymore, as it is about the commercials and the Half Time show. Everyone was so fascinated with Janet's boob that most people can't recall who even won that year. And don't get me started on the acceptability of violence over brief nudity on prime time. I agree with my friend Hank on that score. And the Half Time show? This year they have geriatric rockers the Rolling Stones. I understand you have to cater to the masses when planning this spectacle, but do we have to parade this type of shit onstage? Hell, I'd rather see Carrot Top preform "America The Beautiful" on the spoons than see those over the hill "entertainers" anymore. Jesus Christ , Mick. Just die already. ( I'm not serious about Carrot Top, but you get the point.)

I'll admit I'm a little bitter about the commercials. There are commercials out there that will have cost companies millions of dollars to produce and air, and some of them are shown only during the game. But I'm here in Canada, and the CRTC doesn't want me subjected to the latest Chunky Soup ad, for fear that it's corrupting my Canadian heritage. So I don't get to see some of these ground breaking works of pop culture, but having me witness an old British guy celebrating an American sport is not a problem.

I think that in the future, with the way television is heading, you will be able to set up the Super Bowl to be shown on two channels. One with the game, and one with the hype.

I bet the ratings would be neck and neck between the two.

And that's what is really sad.

Later.

Who Does This Remind You Of?

ENTP - The Inventor
You scored 90% I to E, 21% N to S, 61% F to T, and 63% J to P!

The single word that describes your type is "inventor", and you belong to the larger group called rationals. You love to tinker with things and come up with new ideas. You are outgoing and curious with an insatiable appetite for knowledge. You have no real desire to lead, only doing so if there is no other way. 2% of the population share your personality type.
You are a flirtatious and energetic romantic partner, fun and engaging, always looking for something unusual to try. In your enthusiasm, you may make promises you can't keep. Your competitive nature and need to be perceived as an expert can be daunting to a romantic partner at times. You so enjoy the tug of a good debate that sometimes you act as if you don't take anything seriously. You are usually very supportive and helpful to your mate, but somewhat scattered and unable to devote your full attention there. You feel most appreciated for your great ideas, unusual perceptiveness, and ability to understand and communicate with people. You feel most appreciated when your partner understands your need for lots of social contact and your need to live life as spontaneously as possible.


Test from OK Cupid.

I'd love to know who wrote this test.
Need to be competative? In Bed? It's not a race, you know.
Only 2% of the population are like me? It's good to be unique.
Good Parts bolded for emphasis.

Later.

Public Persona.

The Sidekick and I were having coffee tonight, and he brought up an interesting point.
(I know, I'm as shocked as the rest of you.)

"What if you finally got to meet the one person you always wanted to; and they turned out to be completely the opposite of what you expected?"

I'm not sure how I would handle that.
There are lots of people I want to meet, maybe have a beverage with, and the reason I'd like to meet them is because of what I perceive their personalities to be. Obviously, if I think a guy has the personality and intelligence of a piece of cork, (George Bush) then I'm not going to want to meet him. (Except to slap them around, as in Dubya's case.)

Slightly different than I expected? I can deal with that. I have yet to meet any person who completely lived up to my preconceived notion of them. That's not a bad thing by the way, 95% of the time my preconceived notion is that the general public are idiots. You normally have to work to disprove that theory. Most do, the rest you read about in these pages.

However there are a few people that I can think of that I would be disappointed if the image they presented was opposite that of the real one.

• John Cusack- Should be just a regular guy, but famous.
• Dave Grohl - Same as John, but better on the sticks.
• Tom Cruise - I expect him to be a psycho, any different would be upsetting.
• Dennis Leary - If we didn't get drunk and smoke a pack of cigs, I'd be amazed.
• Bono - If he's like Joey thinks he is, I'll be shocked.
• Angelina Jolie - If she doesn't scoop me off my feet, it'd be her loss.

That's just a random sampling. I am I wrong in most of my perceptions? Probably. But I may be fairly close, and that I can handle. Walking into a room to find Britney Spears doing advanced calculus would be a general idea of the kind of opposite I'm talking about.

But until I meet these or any of the other interesting personalities out there, I'll just go with the feeling I have in my gut.

It's been pretty good so far.

Later.

Air & Water.

Some days I really like rain.

I'll admit, it sounds crazy, but there is something to be said for being outside and having the rain falling all around you.
You are enclosed, enveloped, anonymous.
It's very cleansing and soothing.
The world smells fresh and clean after, and everything seems new.

The wind can also have a calming effect.
The slight breeze may cool you off, and carry the scent of spring to tease and tantalize you.
It rustles the leaves on the trees, creating a dance and music unlike any other.

However, stick them together into the nightmare that is raging outside my window right now, and all I can say is:
Fuck You Mother Nature.
Are you trying to fucking kill me?
Kiss my ass.

Later.

Bad Night.

Some nights you can put up with the shit and it doesn't bother you.

Other nights it just about drives you fuckin'-crazy.

Later.

Addiction & Subtraction.

I've talked about weakness and I've spoken about Kryptonite, but we've never discussed addiction before.
Everyone is addicted to something, even if they don't want to admit it. Some are addicted to smoking, others can't stop watching "American Idol", and then there's me: He of Many Addictions.
Some of my favorites:

• Coffee: No shit, eh? Anyone who has met me wonders if the cup is surgically attached to my hand. I only drink about 4-5 cups a day, but that's healthy, right? I heard somewhere that caffeine is good for you. I don't know where, I can't recall it, but I know I did, it wasn't just a wonderful fantasy.
• My own sense of humor: I know I'm funny. The shit I say cracks me up. I know not everyone may agree with this, but it's just that they haven't reached my level of addiction. Yet. Soon people will roll in the aisles at my slightest word.
• E-mail: It's not that I write a lot of e-mail; it's that I check it about forty fucking times when I'm on line. Doesn't matter that MSN notifies me about Hotmail, or that Outlook and Gmail all have notifiers sitting in my System Tray, I still check it, just in case someone has missed sending me a piece of spam.
• Blogging: Damn you Bish, for opening my eyes up to this. I make it a point to blog everyday. My day is not complete unless I can sign in and spew my thoughts into the ether. Who would have known that I'd be compelled to type whatever random shit pops into my head........ Well, anyone who didn't actually know me might be surprised.
• Gum: Yes, I'm a chewer, have been ever since I started smoking. It just intensified after I quit. And since I'm in the public sector, I'm very aware of the fact that skanky breath = not cool. With the amount of coffee I ingest, it's a practical addiction as well. Plus it pays to have minty fresh breath if you are gonna be locking lips with the ladies.
• Animated T.V. : I'm not talking about that weird stuff from Japan, although there is some that is cool. I'm referring to shows like Family Guy, Futurama, and Ren & Stimpy. ( Yeah, I said Ren & Stimpy, wanna make something of it?) Any animated thing that somewhat reference or parodies pop culture? Give me a chair and a coffee, that's where I'll be.

So what are some of your addictions? Do you love to do laundry? What about sports? Who can't stop touching themselves?

Come on, tell me all your secrets.

Later.

There's Something On The Lens.

It seems like every time you turn around, there is another sex video released by, or featuring, celebrities.

I guess with the success (funny, I know..) that Paris & Pamela had after their tapes were released, it almost seems like a lucrative career path.

I'm not sure how often the average Jane & Joe Six-Pack film themselves at their most intimate, but judging by the spam that shows up in my Hotmail in-box at times, there must be cameras rolling all across this great country of ours.

Not that there is anything wrong with that, but you know what? If I was ever to partake in such an endeavor, I know one thing for sure:

I would know where that tape was at all times.

You know how they show the President or some secret service agent with that briefcase chained to one arm? That would be me. Except it's not the codes to Nuclear Destruction I'd be holding, but actual footage of The World's Whitest Ass ™. Not a pleasant sight. And due to it's either awe-inspiring or vomit-inducing tendencies, it's status and location must be closely guarded.

Which is one of the reasons I'm slightly shocked when one of these scandals breaks. You may lose your tape for a couple of minutes, but how does it end up on Extra by the end of the day? Don't they have to have your permission for that?
And I'd never accidentally turn it into Blockbuster. For one, I would never be that careless to leave my homemade erotic tape beside my copy of Madagascar, and secondly, I'm horrible at returning movies, so it's doubtful that Blockbuster would be getting any movies back, forget about any of mine.


Later.

News Worthy.

Doesn't anyone read the real news anymore?

I find it astonishing to see how many people pick up the latest rag tabloid to get their news.
Why bother to find out what's happening in East Timor, Iraq, or North Korea when you could find out if Jen is fucking Vince? Who cares how the Patriot Act is taking away personal freedoms and liberties when you can get the latest on Brad and Angelina's love child?

Tonight at work I heard two people talking about who they thought was the better person in Brittany Spear's marriage. Oh, forget international or even local events, lets concentrate on skanky, trashy celebrities, and their domestic problems. Who fucking cares?

I think if more people paid attention to real life events instead of whose couch Tom Cruise is jumping on, then you would see a lot more get done in the world.

I know that most of that obsession derives from wanting to make some of our so-called betters more human, and to show that they do have faults, but I believe that if the energy used up by people to gather and publish this "news" was directed in a more positive manner, then some major world changes could happen.

What changes? I don't know - I'm too busy watching Entertainment Tonight.

Later.

Cranky Pants.

Ever have a day were just about everything really pisses you off?

I've been grumpy and bitchy all day, and I really don't know why.
I'm not usually short tempered, but just going into town today and having to interact with other people just drove me nuts.
I can't even say that there was anything specific that was done, I've just had a shitty day.

I guess you have to just chalk it up to the seasons, the weather, the changing of the tides and maybe a slight touch of male PMS. (Is there such a thing? If there isn't, I call dibs.)
Hard to find a solution for that one.

Maybe I'm just tired.
Maybe I need a nap.
Maybe I need a beer.
I'd check my horoscope for tomorrow, but it probably says "Rinse and Repeat."

We'll see.

Later.

Welcoming Our New Overlords.

Like everyone else I know, I feel I should throw my two cents in on the outcome of the election.

Unlike most people I know, I'm somewhat happy that the Conservatives won.

Before you label me as a far right religious extremist, hear me out.

I like the fact that there was a change in government. You have to admit that the system, under the Liberal party, had pretty much run it's course. There was too much scandal, too much bullshit, and just too much past history for Canadians to have any effective output from their leaders in Ottawa.

There needed to be a change.

Now the fact that the Conservatives were voted in as a minority government is exactly what is needed. They will have enough power to trim the fat and work towards a more streamlined government, but without a majority, there is no way they are going to be able to implement some of the more extreme views they might have.
The worst argument I heard against a minority Conservative government was "Better the Devil you know..." Bullshit. The Canadian public, thanks to the past indiscretions of the Liberals, are more aware that government can go wrong, and I believe that we will be more perceptive and maybe more demanding of our government in the future.

A worse scenario would have been the overwhelming majority some expected. With no opposition to keep them in check, they would have ran the country as they see fit, like the Liberals were able to do previous to 2004.

Canadians proved to the politicians that if they don't like the job you are doing, we will vote you out. That is the lesson that should be learned from this election.
I hope it is one that the new Government takes to heart.

Otherwise we'll kick them to the curb, too.

Distraction v2.0

Why 2.0?

Because I started to type and lost my train of thought, and when I turned around, one of the other blogs I read went and stole my title. (Great minds must think alike.)

I do find that I have a tendency to be distracted. It's not at ADD levels, but sometimes when something catches my attention I somehow lose my focus, and depending on the severity of the distraction, it could be a bit before I get back on track.

It's not like I'm a danger to myself or others, at least not yet, and as long as there are no shiny items dangling from the rear-view mirror in the car, I should be O.K.

Later.

Intelligent Conversation.

I think that one of the things I enjoy most in life is conversation.

I'm a talker. Always have been. I'm at my best when involved in a debate or discussion. I think that one of my best traits is my ability to (mostly) articulate what I'm thinking at any given moment.

In any conversation there is some level of give and take. Intelligent conversation is the equal exchange of ideas and insights communicated through speech. One can share experiences or thoughts, and absorb the information presented to them by their counterpart.

It drives me crazy when people can't express themselves with any degree of coherency, or they are unable to have an opinion, much less state that opinion, on anything. Inversely, there is nothing more exciting or intoxicating than meaningful, intelligent conversation.

I'm not saying that each discussion involves solving the world's problems, but there has to be something more than just talking about the weather.

A good conversation is like a good meal. They both have substance, but one nourishes your body, and the other nourishes your mind.

Later.

No Rest For The Wicked.

Can't Sleep.

I feel tired, but I just can't seem to drift off.
I know some of the recommended techniques, but most of them just don't seem to work.
(I'm not drinking warm milk, that's disgusting.)
I've contemplated cooking and eating an entire turkey, just to get the tryptophan hit.

Reading doesnt really work for me, as I get into the material and stay up all night.
Late night TV? Forget about it.
Tried to get comfortable, but I'm either too hot or too cold.
Can you sing a lullaby to yourself? Would that even work?

I think I'll put the headphones on and listen to whatever, maybe that will help.

Later.

Word Verification.

As I've stated previously, I like comments.

I setup Blogger's Word Verification because I was getting a lot of spam in my comments. Once I enabled that, my problem ended.

Sort of.

I think the Word Verification system is hitting on me.

Really, some of the words it wants me to type make me feel dirty inside. (I'm dirty enough on my own, thanks.)

• tklbzfan - Tickle Balls Fan? That's just wrong.
• icfrby - I See Furby? C'mon, I know I'm a little scruffy sometimes, but that's just mean.
• ndeuxi - It sounds French. I'm not sure. Could be sexual.
• jireth - I think I'm being lipped off in Latin. Or Hebrew. Whatever, it sounds like it envoles teeth.
• ynhhzbk - Young Honey's Hose Back? What the Hell? I'm not sure what that means... Wait....No, I don't know what that means.

See what I'm talking about? Is it just me? Is there some sign I'm missing?

It's either the beginning of a worldwide conspiracy, or the start of My Nervous Breakdown.

No matter what, It's all good.

Literature For Dummies.

Someone asked me a couple of days ago what my favorite book was.

You know, that's a really hard question. I had to think about it for a while, and I did say that I do like a lot of books, and I quoted some of the stuff that came to mind. ( King, Tolkien, Grisham even..)

But it got me thinking. I find reading to be a completely different animal than other activities. Take listening to music. If I'm in a bad mood, listening to certain music will alter that mood, either up or down , depending if I'm listening to the Foo Fighters (up) or The Tragically Hip (suicidal).

But books? If I'm in the right frame of mind I can tackle just about any genre.
If I just feel like relaxing with an old friend, I'll slip into the sci-fi /fantasy stuff. It's what I started reading when I was younger, and it's what I'm most comfortable with now. Other days, when I'm feeling inquisitive, I like to read books full of trivial information, ( I'll admit, I have a lot of The Bathroom Readers.) which are full of pop culture stories and semi-useless facts.
I also enjoy horror and suspense, and like I said, I have lots of books from each genre.

I've even expanded into graphic novels. You know, comics. Since the Twin owns a Comic Book Store, it's only right that I get a different graphic novel from him every Christmas. He never disappoints, and I find some of the stories that are there rival some of the full length novels I've read. ( That may be sacrilege to some, but believe me, there's some really good shit out there.)

I'm always interested in trying new authors, and I'll try anything once. The Sidekick occasionally has a good suggestion, and I have heard from others about what they like to read, but I would love to hear from anyone out there what their favorite read is.

So let it all hang out, and tell me what you think I should read.
And don't say the Kama Sutra: I gots that shit memorized.

Personal Space.

You know what annoys me?

Most of you do, as I tend to bitch about it all here, but I really dislike it when someone invades my personal space.

I'm sitting on the love-seat in the coffee room today, (Yes, the love-seat, although I don't know if it's been used for lovin' or not.) and I'm just relaxing, listening to music and bullshitting with one of the guys who was sitting on the couch.

One of the older ladies who I work with comes into the lunch room to have her coffee break and joins in on the conversation we are having. Now that's all fine and dandy, but then she goes and squeezes in beside me on the love-seat, almost sitting on my mp3 player, and crushing my leg.

Now I'm not a small guy, and I do take up some space on a two person love-seat. So why in God's name would you just sit down, without permission, and encroach on my personal area like that? I did comment on it, and she did move, but why wouldn't you just automatically respect another person's space?

That type of callous disregard for others tends to get me riled. Trust me, if I want someone to invade my space, it's a little more obvious. (wink wink, nudge nudge.) And there's no way I was putting out that kind of vibe to this woman.

Does it make you mad when someone gets inside your space like that? I'm not talking about angry in-your-face type shit, I mean just regular people. Close-talkers, grabbers, the people who don't seem to know any better; how do you deal with them?

I need some suggestions, otherwise I might snap next time.

You Get More With Honey...

Sometimes dealing with others requires a touch of class.

Now, I know I'm not the one you normally think of when we talk about acting politely and cordially, but I do know how the game works. I think the world would be a much nicer place if everyone just knew how to act when dealing with another person.

Example #1: I was having a problem topping up my cellphone, ( I have a pay and talk, because unlike my computer, I'm not on my cell all the time,) and due to these problems, my minutes had expired. Now when I did get it topped up, all my minutes were gone, and I was back at the highest per minute plan. Was I pissed? You bet. But when I called Telus, I calmly explained to the lady on the line what my problem was, and I even hinted that my difficulties might have been my fault, and could she please do anything to sort out the situation. Bang! She fixed my rate plan, added back any minutes I lost, and reset my top up to allow easier renewals next time. I made sure to get her name and to thank her, and I just e-mailed Telus to let them know how impressed I was.

Example #2: Some person who I've never seen before comes up to me as I'm speaking to another customer and asks me if we have any boxes in the back. They don't say excuse me, they don't ask politely, and they give me the Look of Death when I ask the other customer to excuse me for a moment. I look at them, they look at me, and I politely inform them that we have no extra boxes to give away. I don't even go look. I come up with a fabrication about how they've been picked up already. But the point is that if you don't treat others with respect and at least some small amount of civility, then you can just go fuck yourself. Nobody's gonna do shit for you.

At work I always try to be polite with everyone I work with. I usually ask instead of tell and I try to help out and be part of the team. People work better for you when they like to work with you. If you're a dick , why would they go the extra mile for you?

And I'm all about the extra mile.

Later.

Confession.

A long time ago, I jotted down some things about myself in regards to my nerdiness.

It was pretty tame stuff, and I ended up about average on the Nerd Scale.

But I left something out of my list; a dark shame that I've kept hidden for so long, that most of the people who may have known are dead now. (Or moved out of town.)

I was a Trekker.

Notice I use the term "Trekker" and not the derogatory "Trekkie". That in itself is sad. I was a big fan of the 24th century, with it's holodecks, blind black guys and empathic chicks who could read the first mate's dirty little mind.

Yes, I was a Next-Generation Trekker.

Oh, sure, I respected the Original Series, but for me the adventures of the Enterprise-D far surpassed any green chicks Kirk could bang. Picard had the smarts, Riker had the balls, and the Chicks all had great cans wrapped in supple polyester unitards.
I had the books, the technical manuals, and even wore the costume on Halloween. (And yet during this time I still got laid. Funny, really.)

Luckily this only lasted for a short period of time, and I denied all knowledge of it's existence.
The denial was so complete that I even laughed at the Sidekick for his fan-boyish devotion to Star Wars, universally known to be far superior to Star Trek. ( Although you never heard Spock go "Yippee!")

Why did my adoration for the Series wane? I think I just got tired of it. It's hard to like something that gets progressively shittier as time goes on. They kept doing the same old crap, and then they came out with Deep Space Nine, which I hated, and that just did it for me. I didn't have a problem with some of the shenanigans that happened on the show, but when you base a spin-off on the mean guy from Spenser: For Hire, and he likes to talk out his problems, well you just lost me.

I can't even watch the show anymore. If I see it on the guide, I skip past as fast as possible. It almost pains me to think how I used to set aside hours of my life to watch that show.

Now that I have confessed to you all, I feel a bit cleaner, more relaxed, and I won't feel that pang of doubt next time I call some loser a geek. My secret's out there, and I feel better for it.

Shit Or Get Off.

I have no patience for people who cannot make decisions.

I can understand slight hesitations, pondering and the weighing of options, but people who cannot boil shit down to yes / no, or stay / go, just really frustrate me.
Sure, sometimes deciding what options you have takes time, but once you know what you have, make a fucking choice and deal with it.
Some people make shopping and deciding what to have for dinner out to be major fucking life choices.
Deciding to buy a house in a strange town? Take some time to analyse facts. Having trouble figuring out if you'll have a omelet or cereal? Just choose, dammit!

I can make it simple for them.

Either you decide right now or I stab you in the eye with a dull pencil.
That's added incentive to sweeten the deal.

Later.

Crime For Dummies.

Big topic at work today.

The liquor store across the parking lot from where I work was robbed last night.

It seems two gentlemen thought it would be great fun to go into said liquor store and hold up the joint, armed with a baseball bat. The two ladies working at the time complied with their wishes and the thieves departed in a white Bronco. ( Kinda like OJ?) For some reason, a customer decided to follow the criminals, but gave up after their vehicle was shot at.

The criminal masterminds then ditched the vehicle, (which did not have it's real plates on it, the plates belonged to a Ford Tempo,) and escaped on foot. The RCMP then brought out the dogs and from the vehicle , tracked one of the suspects to his own trailer. When he was questioned, he gave up the name of his accomplice, and both men were arrested.

Why do I mention this?
Because these guys were stupid with a capital S.
Why do I say that?

• Because the store they robbed was less than five miles from where they both live.
• When they ditched the Bronco, they ran right to their own house. Not far from where they left the "getaway car"
• The plates on the Bronco? - the Ford Tempo was registered to the trailer the suspect was found in.
• One guy had been out of jail for less than a week.

Now I'm not advocating criminal acts; but c'mon, watch some Law & Order or even NYPD Blue - half of the stupid stuff they did is the shit people get caught for on TV. If you didn't know that dogs can track your scent, you're a retard. Using your own plates to disguise your escape vehicle? Way to go McGyuver.

Thank God nobody was hurt, 'cause idiots like these are the type that do hurt people when committing these types of crimes.

The fact that one guy re-offends right out of jail? I'll put that in the "Blog later file."

Moment Of Panic.

So I get home from work today, nobody's home, the wife is out with the in-laws and has the boys with her, and I'm just expecting some "me" time, and a chance to veg.

I step farther into the house and I smell burnt plastic. A strong smell of burnt plastic.

Small sliver of fear sets in, as I run around the house checking all the heaters, thinking The Boy has left a toy near one, or some such thing.
No dice.

Run into the bedroom, suspecting the wife has left her curling iron or another strange female hair device on, expecting to see flames or whatever.
Nothing.

Check the laundry room, the garage, the living room, and the kitchen.
Nada.

Then I notice that my computer monitor is blank.
That's weird, as the wife never turns off the computer, and I'm one of those people who tend to leave it on, as I hop on and off the internet all night.

My computer's shut down. And the burning smell is coming from inside.
At approximately this moment, and for a period of 2.268 seconds, my heart stops beating.

After I choke the fear down,(and visions of burning dollar bills stop swimming through my brain), I pull the tower case off and discover that my CPU fan has pretty much melted on top of the heatsink. Thus the computer overheats and shuts down.

Not a huge deal, I can fix this type of problem, just have to get a new fan, install, run the machine and see if anything is broken. (anything else, I mean.) It took me about an hour, including driving downtown to get the parts, so it wasn't too bad.

But for that one small piece of time, I was about to lose it.

As you can tell, I blog almost everyday. It helps me to relax, and it allows me to organize my thoughts. I also do all my banking online, and I check my email so much you'd think I had ADD.
The thought of going without this vital tool for my everyday life was not comforting.

Now analysing my panic over a bunch of plastic and wires?

Baby, that's a whole other blog.

Stress.

Different people handle stress in different ways.

It's amazing to see how stress, or varying levels of stress, affect others.

I've worked with people in the past who were at complete opposites on the stress spectrum.
There was a girl who would get so worked up over the littlest things. If someone pissed her off or freaked her out at seven in the morning, it would cause her to lose her focus for the rest of the day. You'd talk to her at four in the afternoon, and she'd still be going on about that person from seven o'clock.
Then there was the other guy, who nothing seemed to bother. It's not that he was a calm individual who could handle himself under pressure; it was the fact that he didn't really care one way or the other how things turned out.

I work with people who are mainly in the middle of the road for dealing with stress, although there are one or two guys who get rattled pretty easily when things don't go as planned.
I think I deal with stress fairly well. My years at the Arches helped prepare me for that. I tend to get mad when it starts to get stressful, as if somehow my anger can make everything OK. Maybe not the best way but it works for me. (Let me state now that it's a quiet anger, not a throwing chairs or smacking bitches around anger.) Although because of my formative years at he Arches, it does take a lot more for me to feel stressed than it does others.

However, stress at work is nothing compared to stress at home. When you have a stressful day at work, you punch out, say "Fuck it", go home and relax; either by drinking or cleaning or jerking off, who cares, at least the stress is gone. But what do you do when there is stress at home? Go to work? If your workplace frowns on drinking or jerking off, you might have to find other outlets. You'll just have to deal with it as best you can.

I'd go on about my level of stress right now, but let me tell you, anyone who has a two week old who cries a lot can tell you, it's extremely high, and there's fuck all you can do about it. I looked at the wife and asked her for a little bit of "stress release" and you know what? The look she gave me just added to the already toxic levels around the homestead.

I think I'll take up drinking for now.

Although with the amount of trouble I get into when I drink, at the end of the day, somebody's gonna be stressed.

But I'll be too drunk to care.

Later.

Other People's Kids.

I don't have a lot of faith in the future, and I'll tell you why.

Today was play-gym day. Although the weather was OK, it's just a bit cold to be playing outside, so we went to the community centre, where they have a drop-in play-gym for kids. There are toys and space to run around, and most importantly, social interaction with children in his own age group.

But some of these kids!

Oh my God.

You'd think that most parents, in a setting such as this, would be more aware of how their children present themselves and how they interact with other children. We try to teach sharing and polite conduct, but also to stand up for yourself and be able to act in a respectable manner. I think there might have been one or two other parents who thought as we do, but the other ones seem to treat it as a dumping ground for their kids, turning it into a almost surreal, Lord of the Flies - type experience. I kid you not, I think one of them growled at me.

And I know kids get dirty, but really, how messy can your kid get by 10:30 in the morning? What did you do, let them roll to the door from your car? I can tell you ate at McDonald's before you came here, your child has half a hash brown still attached to his forehead. And I must say that's the cutest mask they have on. No mask? Oh, that's just the snot running from their nose.
Thank the Lord the boys have their shots up to date, especially that shot that protects them from, oh I don't know, a possible outbreak of White Trash?

The thing that gets me is that the parents of these stinky smelly bastards and bitches seem to be some of the most stuck up people in the world. Listen Lady, I'm not hitting on you, I've seen what your loins can produce, and I'm not tempted. The only reason I'm talking to you is because I think your kid just shived the person in charge of the trampoline.

But tolerance is important to teach your child, so we just made the best of it, and told The Boy how good he was in comparison to the savage, feral-like children that were there. He does enjoy the exercise and interaction, probably even more so because he doesn't notice that shit right now. He doesn't care that the kid across from him smells like old socks and mouthwash, he's just happy there is some one on the other side of the see-saw.

And teaching him not to care about that is probably one of the best things ever.

Tongue Tied.

I've been looking at this screen for about five minutes now.

Usually there are so many thoughts pouring out of my head, that I have no trouble with having something to say.

But not tonight.

It's like insomnia, but for speech.
I really want to say something, but just can't. Thus I spend some time looking at the screen and then starting to type and just scrapping it. Go away from it, but I always come back.

I let you know when I've got something to say.

Later.

Betting On The Wrong Horse.

Have you ever wondered if you are in the wrong religion?

Most devout people believe that their chosen faith is the right one. The Catholics feel that they got it all over the Jews, and both of them tend to laugh at the Muslims. There are actually people in each faith that feel so strongly in their convictions that they are willing to die to further the proliferation of their beliefs, or do anything within their power to convert others to their chosen ideology.

But what if the general population is completely off track?

What if there is some out of the way religion that actually has it right?

It can't be the Mormons or Jehovah's, they'd get too much self righteous satisfaction if it was them.
Atheists aren't right either, 'cause that's like saying you won the lottery because you refuse to buy a ticket.
The Amish? Good Lord I hope not.

But how do you know that your beliefs, no matter what they are, are the correct ones? It would totally suck to stand before God and have him say " When did I tell you to sacrifice a chicken? No, No, You've got it all wrong." And then He gives you the boot. (Providing He's a He; lets hope he is, otherwise I know I'm in big trouble.)

It would be a total shame for every major religion to turn out to be full of shit.

Probably turn out to be 5 people in Norway who got it right, and have all the room in heaven, just because you decided that Jesus was crackers and grape juice.

Fuck The Vote.

Talking politics with unnamed peoples today and the comment was made in regards to the upcoming Federal election:

What's the point of voting when all you are doing is voting out
one shitty party for another?

In a way, I have to agree.

See, I really dislike the Canadian Electoral System, and for a couple of reasons:

• I don't like that I have to vote for a certain federal party at the local level to have an effect on the national outcome. I really hate our local MLA, I think they're a schmuck, but I do like the party they belong to. I think that one of the opposing candidates could do a better job representing our region, but on a national level, I don't like their party. It just frustrates me.
• I hate the fact that the leader of our country, the "face of Canada" is not one chosen by the Canadian people. They are chosen by their party, and you know that the type of backdoor deals and bullshit promises most of them had to do to get there are just going to weigh them down once they are in office.
• The balance of power that sits back east and within Quebec. I understand it's population based, but when you consider that the main political party in Quebec wants to leave the country, I think that someway, somehow they should not have that type of power.

Now I'm not saying I have any answers for any of these problems, just that I don't like them. ( I know I'm going to hear from the Home Office about the balance of power.) But the thing is, I'm one of those people who feels that you have NO right to bitch about what happens in this country unless you get off your ass and vote.

I think to get into any political argument you should have proof that you voted in the last election, otherwise you should be told to shut the fuck up.

It's not hard to vote, and even if, like me, you hate the people who are doing the job, they are the only choice we have right now.

Until the Revolution comes.

Just Call Me....

Mr Smith.

Just watched the movie.
I know I'm gonna get it from my friends who read this, but I really liked this movie.
The pacing was great, the little comedic bits were funny, and those two do have a lot of chemistry.

And Angelina?

I'd hit that so fast and so often, it would be like my regular sex life, except with some sort of satisfaction attached. (Mine, not hers.)

Later.

Plan B.

A while ago, I made a pronouncement about my favorite female body part, The Breasts.

While my opinion has not changed, as we move into the winter months the visual aspects of the breasts are bundled away, tucked under sweaters and scarves.

This brings us to Plan B : The Butt.

Call it what you want. Ass, keister, fanny, turd-cutter, gluteus maximus, buttocks, derriere, posterior, whatever. It's a gorgeous piece of work in it's own right, but when teamed up with the correct articles of clothing, it approaches staggering heights of beauty.

Many men are of two minds when it comes to this particular area, and the main difference in the arguments is size. There are those who believe that bigger is better, and those who prefer a neat and tidy package. I'll admit it, I'm in the latter group. Just as it is for men, so is it for women, size does matter.

You can't tell me how great an ass looks when it's spread all over a chair like cream cheese on a bagel, and how can you have any appreciation for something when you are so worried about a seam splitting or button popping, possibly causing grave injury? And don't get me going on thongs; they are a two-edged sword my friends, they have the ability to do the greatest good, but in the wrong hands, serious visual damage can occur if exposed to a thong stretched beyond it's intended weight limit.

Some people prefer different shapes, such as apples, pears or peaches. ( You never hear anyone say how hot some chicks square ass is.) I'm not so much about the shape as about the definition. Symmetry is also a wonderful thing, as a woman with one ass cheek larger than the other is a bit distracting.

As with most visual treats on a woman, Summertime is the optimum viewing season. But winter does have it's benefits, if you know where to look. Thin, tight ski pants are always good, and when they stay inside, those comfy lounge pants have finally paid off, revealing much more than in past years. Jeans are worn year round, and winter seems to have no ill effects on denim's wonderful abilities.

No matter what the time of year, there are always a few simple rules to follow.

• Take your left hand. Open it wide, palm facing down. Curl your ring, middle and index fingers into your palm, leaving your pinkie and thumb extended as far apart as is comfortable. Do the same with your right hand. - Now touch the tips of your thumbs together. The space between your pinkies is your maximum area of containment. Try to keep all asses within this range, as a guideline.
• Unless requested, don't go smacking that ass. This is the one great area in which porn has lied to us. You are always welcome to give it a shot, but beware there are negative repercussions.
• Never use the ass as a table or tray. It's not there to hold your beer while you are going to town, although it is a great idea.
• When checking out an ass, try and be discreet. If caught, say you like the fit of her jeans and were looking for the label. Say this even if she's in a bikini.

That should get you started, or a least help you refine any areas that may need improvement.

The great thing about the ass is that although it deals very well with merchandising, unlike the breasts it cannot be easily disguised. A good bra will make mountains out of molehills. There's nothing a pair of jeans can do for an over-sized backend. Therefore when you see a fantasic ass on a lady, chances are it looks just as good out of the jeans. And that's the ultimate goal, isn't it?

I did not mean to ramble on so, but when you get me talking about certain areas I just can't contain my opinions.

Later.

It Burns.....

You know, one thing I've noticed recently is that my fuse is getting awfully short.
( That's not a shrinkage joke, either.)
I've found that lots of things in life that I used to just let slide, now really, really, piss me off.
You've read some of them in this blog.
( I hope you have, if your not a long time reader, that'll really make me mad.)

See? That's the shit I'm talking about.

Five years ago, little meaningless shit didn't upset me. It was "water off a duck's back" as they say. Of course, five years ago I was getting laid a lot more than I am now. ( Do you think there's a connection, Doc?... Do ya?) But sex notwithstanding, I was a lot more easygoing then. Nowadays just the sight of stupidity or ignorance sets me off.

Is it because I'm getting older?

I'm not angry all the time, I just find that sometimes it's the smallest thing that just frustrates me and sets me off. I'd give examples, but I don't have that kind of time.
Just picture " Complete contentment" and one second later, " Raging Psycho" or something to that extent.

Maybe I should drink more.

Maybe I should smoke "The Herb".

Maybe I'll just chill.


Fuck that, bring on the rage.

Five Lyrics

1. I said hookers
And whores
And a teenage slut
On the bathroom floor
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love
Oh yeah

2.Altered expectations
Long anticipation
Everything is changing
I'm the same and aging

3.All dressed up
No place to go
Hey monkey, when you gonna show your face…around me
I know all the wrongs and rights
And I just want a little light to fall…on me

4. To much walkin', shoes worn thin
Too much trippin' and my soul's worn thin
Time to catch a ride
It leaves today, her name is what it means
To much walkin', shoe's worn thin

5. Now that I've found my reward
Throw it away long before
I'd share a piece of mine with you.

Five Quotes.

1. My God. I haven't been fucked like that since grade school.
2. I'm going... out
3. It appears my hypocrisy knows no bounds.
4. Can I ask you a question? Why is it then whenever I tell a guy to put it wherever they want, they always stick it in my ass?
5. Listen, not a year goes by, not a year, that I don't hear about some escalator accident involving some bastard kid which could have easily been avoided had some parent - I don't care which one - but some parent conditioned him to fear and respect that escalator.

Resolutions.

Resolutions are a crock of shit.

What difference does one day make? Why January 1st? Maybe we should have a resolution day, maybe closer to the summer. That way if your gonna resolve to lose weight or some such shit, then there's no time to dwaddle. You gots to take care of your shit ASAP.

The problem with January is that if your resolution involves the summer in any way, as most do, you have five or six months to procrastinate about the whole thing. And you know you are going to put it off. Hell most people have big resolutions, like losing weight or quitting smoking. That's shit you've been putting off for years, what's another two or three months?

Try and keep the resolutions reasonable, achievable, and realistic. Don't have a resolution to bang more supermodels; it ain't gonna happen. Keep it simple, like using the spellchecker when you blog, (HINT) or maybe cutting back on the five cups of coffee in the morning. ( I'm shooting for four!) I'd love to make it a goal to get a hummer everyday, but with just the wife, it's not happening. I'll have to enlist outside help. (Planning your strategy is very important.)

But back to my original point. Making a resolution in front of the whole world is just stupid. Especially at New Years. Nobody keeps their New Years resolutions, it's just a facade to make people believe that we care enough about the world to at least try and do something. If you make a decision to change something in your life, but you've had the idea in June, do you wait till New Years to do it? Hell no.

And it's always resolutions for the better. No one ever says, "I'm going to kick more puppies.", or " I think I'll poison the neighbor's water supply." You can bet some of the wackjobs in the middle east are resolving to make more suicide bombs, but you don't ever hear about it.

So if you make some resolutions or you don't, it really doesn't matter. You can tell me if you want, but I don't expect you to keep 'em.

I'll just be over here drinking my sixth coffee, relaxing after that wonderful blowjob.

Whatever.

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.

Later.

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.

Untitled

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.

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.

Later.

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:

(gurgle)

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.)

(gur-rr-gle)

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.

(gurgle-rurgle)

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

(hurgle-gurgle)

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...

(gurgle)


(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.

Later.

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.

Later.

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.

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.

Later.

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.

Later.

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....

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.

Later.

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.

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.

Later.

Anger

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.

Later.

Envy

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.

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.

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.

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."

"Maybe..."

" 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.

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.

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.)

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.

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.

Victims.

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.

Victims.
God Bless 'em.

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.