On my day off yesterday I decided to venture to the mall, as I was told I should, nay had to go see James Cameron's new movie called Look What I Can Do.....um sorry Avatar. I don't know if I enjoyed it as much as everyone else, its quite a beautiful movie to look at, and Cameron did wonders with the smurfs, my how they have grown; however, it was something else that caught my attention, something that was on the package for the 3D glasses that I recieved. On the back was a warning that the glasses were not to be worn outside, they couldn't be used as sunglasses, do we really need a warning for this, the sad truth is that yes we do need a warning for this. Because you and I know that if there is no warning there is somebody in the world who will try and use these as sunglasses, thinking it could help them. Quite frankly if you think you can use glasses that help enhance things to stare at the sun you should not be allowed outside to begin with.
The warning on the glasses got me thinking about other warnings that you see on things, warnings that should be common sense yet sadly have to be spelled out so the rubes of society won't kill theirselves. How many bottles of chemicals do you see that say this should not be drank, I know most of them are for kids, but they shouldn't be in the reach of kids anyway, if you don't know that there's a warning for that too. In one episode of the Simpsons when the family is watching a commercial for some product I can't remember, Homer says "see because of me there is a warning" sadly this happens far too often, so I think there should be another warning underneath that saids "Warning, you may get a little stupider reading the previous warning."
The one warning that has never made sense to me is the tag on mattresses that strictly forbids the owner from removing the tag of the mattress. I always wondered why this was so important and just how strictly it is enforced. I mean is there a matress tag task force that storms houses if they hear of tags getting removed. Maybe NBC could make a new Law and Order, call it Law and Order: Matress Unit, lets face it NBC could use some new shows, there's only so much Jay Leno you can put on to fill time am I right. Maybe the tag is some kind of tracking device that lets the government know what your doing at all times, all you conspiracy theorists try and sleep tonight now.
Finally, there are the warnings that you see on tv in drug commercials. When the warning for side effects for the drug is longer then the part about the drug itself, perhaps it's not such a miracle drug. I guess the thinking that if the person taking the drug feels all these side effects, they will forget about the pain they are feeling, it's the old stomp on a person's foot to make them forget about their headache technique. There's even warnings for good side effects like lasting more then four and half hours from pills like Viagra, frankly I wouldn't consult my doctor I'd be feeling pretty good about myself. Maybe they should use Viagra as an anti-depressent, I know if I was depressed and used it that I'd have something to brag about, or collapse with blood loss, but hey I couldn't be sad if I was unconscious.
It saddens me a little that we live in a society where we have to be told what to do so much. Obviously it's good that we have laws and some order, but the fact that people have to be told to not stick their hands on an electrified fence scares me somewhat. This is why I could never be a good parent, because my belief is let them try it once, then they will learn, does little Barney want some drano with supper, yes let him try it, if he recovers he will have learned a valauble lesson, milk does a body good, but drano sends you to the hospital.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
The Bond's Path Code
No, this is not a new movie with Tom Hanks and Ron Howard. The Bond's Path code is something I have heard about off and on throughout my years, it is something that holds the residents of this place together, yet nobody really knows what it means. For those who don't know Bond's Path is where I grew up, a little Section of Southeast Placentia, about 2o minutes walking distance from Placentia depending on how fast you went. Quite Frankly I was never quite sure where Bond's Path ended and Southeast began, some say the boundary was smelt river, but I'll be darned if I'll let fish dictate our boundries. Growing up as a kid there I always had fun, but then I have a wild imagination so I could make anything fun, from rocks to trees, you name it I imagined it was something else, but anyway I digress.
The majority of the talk of the Bond's Path Code came from one of the local town alcoholics. Now if your from Placentia, and your reading this, your probably not wondering who I'm talkin about, but which alcoholic am I talkin about. The list is a long one folks, I think their may be even a prize for the best alcoholic, but don't quote me on that. This man who shall remain nameless would often carry out the same ritual in accordance of the code, when a resident of Bond's Path left he would drink himself into a stupor(ok he often does this if nobody leaves) and he then proceeds to cry, blubbering about how Bond's Path has lost another one, and the sacred code that exists between all of them. When my sister moved to Sweden he said it, if someone moved to Point Verde, he said it, and I mean Point Verde is just through the woods, I mean unless you get attacked by a moose, he's gonna see you again.
Many times I observed this ritual, at first I was too young and didn't understand, asking questions like "Mommy why does he walk funny?" or "Why does he sound funny?' my mom who would always try to shelter me from the bad stuff would say that he had an inner ear problem, luckily my non politically correct dad would be right there to yell and enlighten me on what was really going on. I've done extensive research on the Bond's Path code, I must have asked about 2 or 3 people, and nobody seems to know what its all about. How far back does the code go, is it only this century or does it go back to biblical times? Maybe it had something to do with the old school, like if one student brought in another students wood for the fire, the next day that student would have to bring in double. Maybe it had something to do with the old swimming pool, like if there were a crowd of kids swimming it was understood that you did not pee in the pool.
I have heard stories(and by heard I mean I make them up) that late at night you can see this man staggering through the street of Bond's Path, wailing and muttering on and on about the code, the sacred code. I long for a time when I can see this code, hold the paper in my hands and fully understand what it means. Maybe it's buried in a box underneath the Pinnacle, if anybody is reading this let's go raid the Pinnacle, I'll get the shovels and you get the pitchforks and torches and together we will uncover this mystery. Even if I have my doubts, from stories I have heard the code has helped him on many occasions, such as making him such an accompolished driver he could stop on a dime and give you a nickel change, or helping in confusing times in the far away land of Toronto, when he was stuck on the street corner of walk and don't walk.
Many have asked the man what the code is all about, and the response is the same, a Mr. T level of jibba jabba that no one can understand. Truly it is a secret that will be taken with him to his grave, cause lord knows if he's cremated he's gonna burn for days.
The majority of the talk of the Bond's Path Code came from one of the local town alcoholics. Now if your from Placentia, and your reading this, your probably not wondering who I'm talkin about, but which alcoholic am I talkin about. The list is a long one folks, I think their may be even a prize for the best alcoholic, but don't quote me on that. This man who shall remain nameless would often carry out the same ritual in accordance of the code, when a resident of Bond's Path left he would drink himself into a stupor(ok he often does this if nobody leaves) and he then proceeds to cry, blubbering about how Bond's Path has lost another one, and the sacred code that exists between all of them. When my sister moved to Sweden he said it, if someone moved to Point Verde, he said it, and I mean Point Verde is just through the woods, I mean unless you get attacked by a moose, he's gonna see you again.
Many times I observed this ritual, at first I was too young and didn't understand, asking questions like "Mommy why does he walk funny?" or "Why does he sound funny?' my mom who would always try to shelter me from the bad stuff would say that he had an inner ear problem, luckily my non politically correct dad would be right there to yell and enlighten me on what was really going on. I've done extensive research on the Bond's Path code, I must have asked about 2 or 3 people, and nobody seems to know what its all about. How far back does the code go, is it only this century or does it go back to biblical times? Maybe it had something to do with the old school, like if one student brought in another students wood for the fire, the next day that student would have to bring in double. Maybe it had something to do with the old swimming pool, like if there were a crowd of kids swimming it was understood that you did not pee in the pool.
I have heard stories(and by heard I mean I make them up) that late at night you can see this man staggering through the street of Bond's Path, wailing and muttering on and on about the code, the sacred code. I long for a time when I can see this code, hold the paper in my hands and fully understand what it means. Maybe it's buried in a box underneath the Pinnacle, if anybody is reading this let's go raid the Pinnacle, I'll get the shovels and you get the pitchforks and torches and together we will uncover this mystery. Even if I have my doubts, from stories I have heard the code has helped him on many occasions, such as making him such an accompolished driver he could stop on a dime and give you a nickel change, or helping in confusing times in the far away land of Toronto, when he was stuck on the street corner of walk and don't walk.
Many have asked the man what the code is all about, and the response is the same, a Mr. T level of jibba jabba that no one can understand. Truly it is a secret that will be taken with him to his grave, cause lord knows if he's cremated he's gonna burn for days.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Defining the times
Remember the days of the door to door salesman, that nerdy, sometimes creepy guy who went door to door shilling products for big corporations. With the advent of the internet and online shopping, these people have been tossed to the wayside. Avon no longer calls, but sends emails, nobody answers doors to guys with the newest sharpest knife anymore, I tried it, the court date is still pending. Today I had the closest experience to the door to door salesman that I've had it years, strangely enough it didn't come with a rapping, rapping on my chamber door, but on wikipedia of all places.
I was searching through wikipedia coincidentally enough for something else I was going to write, that didn't pan out, when I see it, a plea from the founder of wikipedia himself. Since curiousity killed the cat(it certainly wasn't that burlap sack with rocks if anyone from PETA is reading) I decided to check it out. It was then a funny thing happened, I heard a knocking sound, I opened my chamber door, darkness there and nothing more. Turns out the knocking sound occurred again when I opened the link. Clicking the link was like opening an imaginary door, standing on the other side, Jimmy Wales, the founder of wikpedia, asking me to donate to the site. I was shocked, in this era of modern technology, with a vast sea of resources available, this guy is doing the internet equivalent of selling me encyclopedias door to door.
Sure he didn't have a neat suit or a polished grin, he actually looked quite slovenly, he actually reminded me of the hobo on the Simpsons who created Itchy and Scratchy, bought a house of gold yet still dressed in his hobo garb. He tried to appeal to my good nature, telling me all the things could be learned from wikipedia, and for a low low price I could share in a piece of all this vital information. I guess through the screen he could still see that I wasn't interested, so he began the hard sell, appealing to my sense of community by telling me of all the volunteers that have added information to the site. In the words of the immortal Homer Simpson, do you know these so called volunteers don't even get paid? and as for community, cult members help each other out too, but they usually die in the end.
The thing I find best about wikipedia is that you can go into any page and edit the information, so I made a donation of 2o dollars on the site, then later I went back and edited that, changing it to 10, later again I edited it again and changed it to zero. I was overjoyed at this development, as I haven't been able to change history since my Delorean was repossessed, you try making the payments on those plutonium rods, it's insane. You see Mr. Wales, when you appeal to the good nature of someone, make sure they actually have a good nature.
I can only wonder what kind plan I could get by donating to this site, would I get the A websites the first month, then every letter every month after. I for one prefer to get my information from a source not named skater_boi_rulz25, so I had to say no to Mr. Wales, closing the virtual door on him, and closing the last chapter on the last descendant of the polyester peddlers. Anyways I don't need an encyclopedia, I've read the dictionary front to back, as it turns out the zebra did it *Puts on Shades* I....guess he.........couldn't change his stripes *walks away*
I was searching through wikipedia coincidentally enough for something else I was going to write, that didn't pan out, when I see it, a plea from the founder of wikipedia himself. Since curiousity killed the cat(it certainly wasn't that burlap sack with rocks if anyone from PETA is reading) I decided to check it out. It was then a funny thing happened, I heard a knocking sound, I opened my chamber door, darkness there and nothing more. Turns out the knocking sound occurred again when I opened the link. Clicking the link was like opening an imaginary door, standing on the other side, Jimmy Wales, the founder of wikpedia, asking me to donate to the site. I was shocked, in this era of modern technology, with a vast sea of resources available, this guy is doing the internet equivalent of selling me encyclopedias door to door.
Sure he didn't have a neat suit or a polished grin, he actually looked quite slovenly, he actually reminded me of the hobo on the Simpsons who created Itchy and Scratchy, bought a house of gold yet still dressed in his hobo garb. He tried to appeal to my good nature, telling me all the things could be learned from wikipedia, and for a low low price I could share in a piece of all this vital information. I guess through the screen he could still see that I wasn't interested, so he began the hard sell, appealing to my sense of community by telling me of all the volunteers that have added information to the site. In the words of the immortal Homer Simpson, do you know these so called volunteers don't even get paid? and as for community, cult members help each other out too, but they usually die in the end.
The thing I find best about wikipedia is that you can go into any page and edit the information, so I made a donation of 2o dollars on the site, then later I went back and edited that, changing it to 10, later again I edited it again and changed it to zero. I was overjoyed at this development, as I haven't been able to change history since my Delorean was repossessed, you try making the payments on those plutonium rods, it's insane. You see Mr. Wales, when you appeal to the good nature of someone, make sure they actually have a good nature.
I can only wonder what kind plan I could get by donating to this site, would I get the A websites the first month, then every letter every month after. I for one prefer to get my information from a source not named skater_boi_rulz25, so I had to say no to Mr. Wales, closing the virtual door on him, and closing the last chapter on the last descendant of the polyester peddlers. Anyways I don't need an encyclopedia, I've read the dictionary front to back, as it turns out the zebra did it *Puts on Shades* I....guess he.........couldn't change his stripes *walks away*
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
How Burger King toys with my emotions
As a red blooded Canadian male the love of meat is encoded into my DNA. Being that I was never one for hunting(a successful hunt for me is finding my other sock in the morning) I require other means for acquiring said meat. The nearest supermarket down from me has a wide variety of meat for me to choose, but sometimes I just don't have the time or energy to cook it myself, so I let others cook it for me. There are not many fast food places I have not tried, in search of the perfect burger I have left no stone unturned, in my heavier days I could walk in and be greeted with a rousing cheer ala Norm from Cheers. The same places over and over can get quite boring, and with the weight loss quest still ongoing I've been trying to eat their less frequently, but just when I think I am out they pull me back in. Radio and television these days are flooded with commercial after commercial about delicious burgers, fast food chains trying to lure me like wailing sirens luring approaching ships. Places like Mcdonalds, Wendys, A&W all spend hundreds of thousands of dollars just to get my measly few dollars, to gorge on the biggest burger they have all the while sobbing uncontrollably; however, it's Burger king that most amazes me, it is their commercials that without a doubt stir up the widest range of emotions in me.
Burger King is a delicious food, just the thought of it makes my arteries clog, but it's not just the grease that raises my blood pressure, it's their choice of who they put in the commercials. I mean really have you ever seen somebody as creepy as the Burger King, there have been numerous commercials where people wake up and this guy is just standing outside their window looking in. If you see this is your first instinct gonna be to get a burger or get a cop? are you gonna drive to burger king? or are you gonna drive out of the city in fear of this guy? I personally cannot watch these commercials with the lights off, as I fear turning on the lights and seeing him in the doorway. Years of his burgers have left me susceptible to heavy breathing after just a couple of steps(even though I'm becoming more sleek and aerodynamic) and would no doubt fall prey to his oncoming attack. I for one think it's time for the peasant class to light the torches and raise the pitchforks, and join as one to overthrow this creepy King, storm his White Castle and rid our television screens of him.
While I don't care much for the Burger King, most of my rage and confusion toward the Burger King franchise is aimed toward their new spokesperson, that guy who promotes their now Bourbon Whopper or whatever it's called. This guy loves the burger so much he has a tattoo of him eating it on his arm, you know what tattoo this guy will never have, a naked lady, cause he obviously has no memory of seeing one. They say the burger doesn't actually contain alchohol, if this is the case this guy is more of a lightweight then me, and I get a buzz from cough syrup; seriously, he takes a couple of bites and he's jumping on the trunk of his car, and dancing in the parking lot like some hipster dufus. They rightly don't give this guys name out, so people can't find him and punch him in the face, but I say cut the middle man, go to Burger King's corporate office and punch their marketing guys in the face.
Burger King leaves me both rubbing my stomach and scratching my head. In the past, when I had their food it was always good, not good for me, but satisfying. On the other hand, they go and do things like filming their employees telling customers that they've discontinued the whopper, do you know what it's like telling a big person they can't have their favorite meal, it's like working at a zoo and saying "hey mr. grizzly bear, we've decided not to give you your salmon today." Sure it sounds like a good idea, until you wonder why that bear claw is coming so close to your head, and then it hits you. I shouldn't have to watch a commerical and wonder what is going to tear my insides out first, the burger or the guy in the commercial. Secondly, if I wanted to watch a redneck hoot and holler and jump on the trunk of his car I'd watch Nascar. Now if you will all excuse me, I'm gonna relax and take a bite of this here apple, this can't hurt me in any way, ow my tooth.
Burger King is a delicious food, just the thought of it makes my arteries clog, but it's not just the grease that raises my blood pressure, it's their choice of who they put in the commercials. I mean really have you ever seen somebody as creepy as the Burger King, there have been numerous commercials where people wake up and this guy is just standing outside their window looking in. If you see this is your first instinct gonna be to get a burger or get a cop? are you gonna drive to burger king? or are you gonna drive out of the city in fear of this guy? I personally cannot watch these commercials with the lights off, as I fear turning on the lights and seeing him in the doorway. Years of his burgers have left me susceptible to heavy breathing after just a couple of steps(even though I'm becoming more sleek and aerodynamic) and would no doubt fall prey to his oncoming attack. I for one think it's time for the peasant class to light the torches and raise the pitchforks, and join as one to overthrow this creepy King, storm his White Castle and rid our television screens of him.
While I don't care much for the Burger King, most of my rage and confusion toward the Burger King franchise is aimed toward their new spokesperson, that guy who promotes their now Bourbon Whopper or whatever it's called. This guy loves the burger so much he has a tattoo of him eating it on his arm, you know what tattoo this guy will never have, a naked lady, cause he obviously has no memory of seeing one. They say the burger doesn't actually contain alchohol, if this is the case this guy is more of a lightweight then me, and I get a buzz from cough syrup; seriously, he takes a couple of bites and he's jumping on the trunk of his car, and dancing in the parking lot like some hipster dufus. They rightly don't give this guys name out, so people can't find him and punch him in the face, but I say cut the middle man, go to Burger King's corporate office and punch their marketing guys in the face.
Burger King leaves me both rubbing my stomach and scratching my head. In the past, when I had their food it was always good, not good for me, but satisfying. On the other hand, they go and do things like filming their employees telling customers that they've discontinued the whopper, do you know what it's like telling a big person they can't have their favorite meal, it's like working at a zoo and saying "hey mr. grizzly bear, we've decided not to give you your salmon today." Sure it sounds like a good idea, until you wonder why that bear claw is coming so close to your head, and then it hits you. I shouldn't have to watch a commerical and wonder what is going to tear my insides out first, the burger or the guy in the commercial. Secondly, if I wanted to watch a redneck hoot and holler and jump on the trunk of his car I'd watch Nascar. Now if you will all excuse me, I'm gonna relax and take a bite of this here apple, this can't hurt me in any way, ow my tooth.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Why people make my head hurt
Have you ever found yourself at work, or in a situation where someone asks you a question, not just any question, but a question of such stupidity that it makes you do a double take. I know some people prefer the good old facepalm, but I prefer the double take, and then slamming my head off the table ala Don Music of Sesame Street. Today at work was one of those days. First a bit about our wait staff, most of them are off in a world where all they see is the dining room, it's an isolated place, not much penetrates the barrier that seperates the dining room from the kitchen, and we've had some waitresses that make me wonder just how much oxygen is in this world. Today at work, one of my good friends was doin her thing, workin away, when a waitress asked if they could stand on one of scales to weigh herself. I bet your thinking this is a perfectly legitimate question, and it would be, if the scale didn't stop at five pounds, you can't even get one food on this thing, let alone two. My friend a little later had a nose bleed, she says there's no relation to the question but I prefer to think her brain exploded.
This is not even the worst question that's ever been asked, not by a long shot. One fateful day a waitress made the mistake of asking me where the ice in the ice machine comes from, without hesitation I whipped around and responded with "Baby Jesus." She did not believe this answer, maybe cause she was of the godless sort, so our maintenance man and fellow troublemaker Kevin told her we had a little man inside that chips away at an ice block all day long. We've had other doozies such as where the water goes when it drains, what animal does a grilled chicken breast come from, or how the paper goes through the lines of a fax machine.
It is times like this that I wish when these questions were asked I could just say "I'm glad you asked me that" and then pull down a flow chart, and be able to answer these questions in a long detailed manner. Failing this, I would like to create a chip that could be painlessly inserted into ones brain, so when the urge to ask a stupid question rises, they recieve a mild electrical shock. I know no one is perfect, and everyone has dumb moments, like the time I got a job at a strip mall, and was subsequently fired because it wasn't that kind of strip mall. To make matters worse it was an ice cream store, so I was unfairly represented, if you know what I mean.
Is it too much to ask for people to think before they ask questions, do they trust me so much that they believe I won't answer sarcastically. Because if this is the case, they don't know me very well, and sarcasm will be unleashed as swiftly and decisively as I see fit. I plan on emailing Stephen Harper about the brain chip, he seems like the type who might be into certain kinds of mind control. Who knows, maybe he can use it to sway the vote, so he can win by being popular, not because he's the best of the worst. Alas, until I get my wish for the chips or the flow charts, or the ninja that hides until I strike a gong and then attacks, I will be stuck having to listen to the stupid questions, but maybe the sound of my head banging on the table will drowned them out, I'll have to be unconscious eventually.
This is not even the worst question that's ever been asked, not by a long shot. One fateful day a waitress made the mistake of asking me where the ice in the ice machine comes from, without hesitation I whipped around and responded with "Baby Jesus." She did not believe this answer, maybe cause she was of the godless sort, so our maintenance man and fellow troublemaker Kevin told her we had a little man inside that chips away at an ice block all day long. We've had other doozies such as where the water goes when it drains, what animal does a grilled chicken breast come from, or how the paper goes through the lines of a fax machine.
It is times like this that I wish when these questions were asked I could just say "I'm glad you asked me that" and then pull down a flow chart, and be able to answer these questions in a long detailed manner. Failing this, I would like to create a chip that could be painlessly inserted into ones brain, so when the urge to ask a stupid question rises, they recieve a mild electrical shock. I know no one is perfect, and everyone has dumb moments, like the time I got a job at a strip mall, and was subsequently fired because it wasn't that kind of strip mall. To make matters worse it was an ice cream store, so I was unfairly represented, if you know what I mean.
Is it too much to ask for people to think before they ask questions, do they trust me so much that they believe I won't answer sarcastically. Because if this is the case, they don't know me very well, and sarcasm will be unleashed as swiftly and decisively as I see fit. I plan on emailing Stephen Harper about the brain chip, he seems like the type who might be into certain kinds of mind control. Who knows, maybe he can use it to sway the vote, so he can win by being popular, not because he's the best of the worst. Alas, until I get my wish for the chips or the flow charts, or the ninja that hides until I strike a gong and then attacks, I will be stuck having to listen to the stupid questions, but maybe the sound of my head banging on the table will drowned them out, I'll have to be unconscious eventually.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
From where I sit
From where I sit I can see many things, the room where I sit is small yet comfortable, I see a screen, in it's reflection a bigger screen. There is much technology in this room, trophies I have earned through hard work, and have been able to spoil myself with. My new 50 inch plasma tv, which has brightened my life, literally, the screen is pretty bright, better becareful I guess or I won't see anything where I sit.
From where I sit I see the toys I have decorated the apartment with, all the old rubber wrestlers that adorn the wall, there to remind to me of when things were simpler. Each one a symbol of how those that raised and cared for me worked hard to ensure my childhood was a good one. Each and every one has a story to me. From where I sit I see Hulk Hogan, the first one I ever opened, reminding me that despite the shell he's become I worshipped him like no other. From there I scan to the ones my brothers brought back from trips, when they didn't have to bring me anything at all. In each face I see the faces of the people who looked out for me and made sure I was taken care of before themselves, and that's why I have no complaints about my life from where I sit. That is why they have not been sold, that is why I will always keep them so I can see them from where I sit.
From where I sit I can see pictures of family, I see their genuine happiness to be with a group of people they actually want to spend time with, and I am happy for them. I see them with their new families or old families, old bonds tightened, and new ones formed. From where I sit I can see two dogs, dogs unlike any others. These dogs have brought immence joy to their homes, their loyalty unquestioned, their ability to entertain and amuse. Their ability to sense sadness without being in the same room, causing them to run and remove it with the touch of a paw or jumping in a lap. From where I sit I need more pictures, cause surrounded by close family is not a bad place to sit at all.
From where I sit I can spin my computer chair around, and around, and around, and around, and around, and around, and around until I'm quite dizzy, luckily from where I sit I can see pepto bismol, that should take away the nausea. C'mon ya didn't think this whole thing was gonna be serious did ya.
From where I sit there is a lot of clutter, I guess I should clean, but work makes me so lazy that usually I like to stay where I sit. From where I sit I see my teacup, containing the remnants of my only addiction, it's a relaxation without the high, and good till the last drop. From where I sit I can see snow, rain, trees, Bobby, Jane, Lucas.....sorry I guess I see Romper Room where I sit.
From where I sit I see the toys I have decorated the apartment with, all the old rubber wrestlers that adorn the wall, there to remind to me of when things were simpler. Each one a symbol of how those that raised and cared for me worked hard to ensure my childhood was a good one. Each and every one has a story to me. From where I sit I see Hulk Hogan, the first one I ever opened, reminding me that despite the shell he's become I worshipped him like no other. From there I scan to the ones my brothers brought back from trips, when they didn't have to bring me anything at all. In each face I see the faces of the people who looked out for me and made sure I was taken care of before themselves, and that's why I have no complaints about my life from where I sit. That is why they have not been sold, that is why I will always keep them so I can see them from where I sit.
From where I sit I can see pictures of family, I see their genuine happiness to be with a group of people they actually want to spend time with, and I am happy for them. I see them with their new families or old families, old bonds tightened, and new ones formed. From where I sit I can see two dogs, dogs unlike any others. These dogs have brought immence joy to their homes, their loyalty unquestioned, their ability to entertain and amuse. Their ability to sense sadness without being in the same room, causing them to run and remove it with the touch of a paw or jumping in a lap. From where I sit I need more pictures, cause surrounded by close family is not a bad place to sit at all.
From where I sit I can spin my computer chair around, and around, and around, and around, and around, and around, and around until I'm quite dizzy, luckily from where I sit I can see pepto bismol, that should take away the nausea. C'mon ya didn't think this whole thing was gonna be serious did ya.
From where I sit there is a lot of clutter, I guess I should clean, but work makes me so lazy that usually I like to stay where I sit. From where I sit I see my teacup, containing the remnants of my only addiction, it's a relaxation without the high, and good till the last drop. From where I sit I can see snow, rain, trees, Bobby, Jane, Lucas.....sorry I guess I see Romper Room where I sit.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Open Letters to my favorite tv shows
Television viewing is different today then when I was a kid, shows have gotten smarter, rely on cliffhanger endings a lot, and the tv schedules are all over the place. Some shows I enjoy start in September, other shows I enjoy start in January, some start in March. With the advent of being able to watch tv on the internetz, it means I have new shows pretty much all year long, and no commercials, cause unless it's the Superbowl, who wants to watch commercials. Recently some shows that I enjoy have come to end for their respective seasons, or are on hiatus, and their final shows have forced me to write the writers of each show a letter, to let them know my thoughts, annnnnnnd away we go.
Dear Sons of Anarchy,
Thank your a great season, all your wacky actions and infighting kept me hooked through every episode. The mark of a truly great show is one that can make Peg Bundy look hot even though she's gotta be like what, sixty years old. I think we can all be glad that FX is not a hd channel. You had many great moments this season, and I just wanna thank you for waiting until the last few minutes to kick me in the stomach with that ending, now I have to wait to September to see what happens, thanks, thanks alot.
Dear Dexter,
Another good season this year, and let me just say thanks, for waiting until I recovered from the end of Sons of Anarchy to kick me in the nads with that ending. I won't spoil it for fans who haven't seen it, but really, what did I do to deserve getting kicked in the grapefruits like that. Also, what happened to Micheal C. Hall, I saw him in the post season interview and he looks like the character Tom Hanks played in Philadelphia,after the Aids. Thank you also for making sure I can never enjoy Third Rock from the Sun again because now not only have I seen John Lithgow naked( even bleach didn't help take out that image) now I will picture him controlling that whole family through fear and intimidation.
Dear Glee,
Why do I even watch your show, is it the catchy musical numbers, is it that the lead girl is pretty cute, or is that lost part of me who wanted to be on broadway, but never got past playing Santa in a grade 8 play. I had the audience on their feet the whole time, of course prior to the play I put thumbtacks on their chairs so that might have been the reason. Your fall finale actually ended on somewhat of a happy note, as happy as a guy who kisses somebody who is not his wife- who admittedly faked a pregnancy but you should have known that anyway-could be.
Dear Breaking Bad,
Ok so you actually ended a few months ago, but I didn't have a blog then, so your getting this letter now. I will never think of Bryan Cranston as the dad from Malcolm in the Middle again, and that's a good thing cause I hated that show anyway. Before there was the Sons of Anarchy, or Dexter, you were right there to punch me in the stomach with your ending, and leave me waiting until March to see what comes next. So I will sit and wait, wondering how Walter will get his family back, will he be found out, and how do you clean up the wreckage of two planes colliding from your backyard. Until March Breaking Bad.
I blame 24 for all of this, if they hadn't of done a sad ending to their first season it wouldn't have been cool, or edgy to do it. Of course I'd never say this to Jack Baur, case he would no doubt kill me 5 times before I hit the ground, oh yeah his last season ended with him in a coma, but I've seen commercials for the new season, and he looks fine so all is well(yay stem cells). With House's season still going, and 24 coming in January, and then Lost in Febuary I'm sure there will be more open letters in the future, cause none of those shows like to end with me smiling. And it's the last season for Lost so you know they are gonna aim for a body part to kick me in, perhaps the shin, no one's gotten me there yet.
Dear Sons of Anarchy,
Thank your a great season, all your wacky actions and infighting kept me hooked through every episode. The mark of a truly great show is one that can make Peg Bundy look hot even though she's gotta be like what, sixty years old. I think we can all be glad that FX is not a hd channel. You had many great moments this season, and I just wanna thank you for waiting until the last few minutes to kick me in the stomach with that ending, now I have to wait to September to see what happens, thanks, thanks alot.
Dear Dexter,
Another good season this year, and let me just say thanks, for waiting until I recovered from the end of Sons of Anarchy to kick me in the nads with that ending. I won't spoil it for fans who haven't seen it, but really, what did I do to deserve getting kicked in the grapefruits like that. Also, what happened to Micheal C. Hall, I saw him in the post season interview and he looks like the character Tom Hanks played in Philadelphia,after the Aids. Thank you also for making sure I can never enjoy Third Rock from the Sun again because now not only have I seen John Lithgow naked( even bleach didn't help take out that image) now I will picture him controlling that whole family through fear and intimidation.
Dear Glee,
Why do I even watch your show, is it the catchy musical numbers, is it that the lead girl is pretty cute, or is that lost part of me who wanted to be on broadway, but never got past playing Santa in a grade 8 play. I had the audience on their feet the whole time, of course prior to the play I put thumbtacks on their chairs so that might have been the reason. Your fall finale actually ended on somewhat of a happy note, as happy as a guy who kisses somebody who is not his wife- who admittedly faked a pregnancy but you should have known that anyway-could be.
Dear Breaking Bad,
Ok so you actually ended a few months ago, but I didn't have a blog then, so your getting this letter now. I will never think of Bryan Cranston as the dad from Malcolm in the Middle again, and that's a good thing cause I hated that show anyway. Before there was the Sons of Anarchy, or Dexter, you were right there to punch me in the stomach with your ending, and leave me waiting until March to see what comes next. So I will sit and wait, wondering how Walter will get his family back, will he be found out, and how do you clean up the wreckage of two planes colliding from your backyard. Until March Breaking Bad.
I blame 24 for all of this, if they hadn't of done a sad ending to their first season it wouldn't have been cool, or edgy to do it. Of course I'd never say this to Jack Baur, case he would no doubt kill me 5 times before I hit the ground, oh yeah his last season ended with him in a coma, but I've seen commercials for the new season, and he looks fine so all is well(yay stem cells). With House's season still going, and 24 coming in January, and then Lost in Febuary I'm sure there will be more open letters in the future, cause none of those shows like to end with me smiling. And it's the last season for Lost so you know they are gonna aim for a body part to kick me in, perhaps the shin, no one's gotten me there yet.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Mysterious Blue Light seen over Norway, Norway not boring anymore
The people of Norway noticed somthing mysterious in the sky recently, the appearance of a blue light where once there was no blue light. Norway is a place that flies mostly below the radar, basically the only thing I know that came out of there was heavy metal, and a hockey team that could sometimes compete in international play, but not really. Immediately questions came from all over the globe, what was this blue light? is it batman? Norway? Really? One theory is that it was a failed attempt at a new missle launch from the Russians, but that's boring, and the Russians are too easy to make fun of, so let's try another theory. Having no solid theories of my own, let's work out a few scenarios that it might be.
*The Coors Light Silver Bullet- Coors Light usually have some of the best commercials, but what if they took their advertising to a whole new level. Perhaps they were interested in more then just being the number one beer company, and wanted to add world domination to their list. Personally if I were going to try world conquest(soon Frankie soon) I'd start in Norway, cause really who cares about Norway, also I hear Poland is a bit of a pushover. In searching for reactions to this new strategy, I contacted other beer companies. When I contacted Bud light there response was "Wasssssssssup", this seriously went on for ten minutes, up until I, who has never drank in my life wanted a beer, so I guess thier strategy works too.
*The Polar Express- what if Tom Hanks was a real train conducter, the man could make me believe anything, hell I've seen him do perfectly normal interviews and I still belive he suffers from Aids and has below average intelligence. Obviously Tom Hanks is rich, he can afford a train, especially a train that flies. That being said, what if after filming the movie he said "I want that train, somebody build me that train." And build they did, creating a level of buzz similar to when Springfield got the Monorail. Finally the day came, the first ever flying train would be flown around the world, but something went terribly wrong, and it ended up in Norway. I hear that blue streak was the train trying to get out of Norway as fast as possible.
*Aliens- AHHH ALIENS, RUN, I TOLD YOU THEY EXISTED, NONE OF YOU BELIEVED ME, WHOSE GONNA EAT A HAT NOW.
*Norwegian space program-bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha*cough cough*hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Sorry, got to catch my breath for a minute there. I think we can rule out this possibility cause who's ever heard of a Norwegian space program. If Norway ever wants to see a moon landing, just film one, like the States did(I"m on to you armstrong, one small step indeed, to the make-up chair buddy boy) or read the nursery rhyme where the cow jumps over to moon, then you can feel inadequate for coming in second place to someone or something else. Trust me, I'm Canadian I know all about getting the cool things way after everyone else, I mean Newfoundland just got the Iphone, that's as old and dated as my wasssssup joke.
If I've offended any Norwegians who've read this, then cool, that means somebody far away actually reads this mess of a site. I was just playing, from what I've heard the Norwegians are a hard working industrious people, content to put thier heads down and go about their business. Then this blue light comes around and turns everything upside down, causing eyes all over the world to turn and look and say in unison "oh yeah, Norway I forgot about them." Maybe this blue light is good, maybe it's a miracle that will make the Norwegian hockey team a contender, and beat Canada for a gold medal..... yeah I think the space program will happen first.
*The Coors Light Silver Bullet- Coors Light usually have some of the best commercials, but what if they took their advertising to a whole new level. Perhaps they were interested in more then just being the number one beer company, and wanted to add world domination to their list. Personally if I were going to try world conquest(soon Frankie soon) I'd start in Norway, cause really who cares about Norway, also I hear Poland is a bit of a pushover. In searching for reactions to this new strategy, I contacted other beer companies. When I contacted Bud light there response was "Wasssssssssup", this seriously went on for ten minutes, up until I, who has never drank in my life wanted a beer, so I guess thier strategy works too.
*The Polar Express- what if Tom Hanks was a real train conducter, the man could make me believe anything, hell I've seen him do perfectly normal interviews and I still belive he suffers from Aids and has below average intelligence. Obviously Tom Hanks is rich, he can afford a train, especially a train that flies. That being said, what if after filming the movie he said "I want that train, somebody build me that train." And build they did, creating a level of buzz similar to when Springfield got the Monorail. Finally the day came, the first ever flying train would be flown around the world, but something went terribly wrong, and it ended up in Norway. I hear that blue streak was the train trying to get out of Norway as fast as possible.
*Aliens- AHHH ALIENS, RUN, I TOLD YOU THEY EXISTED, NONE OF YOU BELIEVED ME, WHOSE GONNA EAT A HAT NOW.
*Norwegian space program-bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha*cough cough*hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Sorry, got to catch my breath for a minute there. I think we can rule out this possibility cause who's ever heard of a Norwegian space program. If Norway ever wants to see a moon landing, just film one, like the States did(I"m on to you armstrong, one small step indeed, to the make-up chair buddy boy) or read the nursery rhyme where the cow jumps over to moon, then you can feel inadequate for coming in second place to someone or something else. Trust me, I'm Canadian I know all about getting the cool things way after everyone else, I mean Newfoundland just got the Iphone, that's as old and dated as my wasssssup joke.
If I've offended any Norwegians who've read this, then cool, that means somebody far away actually reads this mess of a site. I was just playing, from what I've heard the Norwegians are a hard working industrious people, content to put thier heads down and go about their business. Then this blue light comes around and turns everything upside down, causing eyes all over the world to turn and look and say in unison "oh yeah, Norway I forgot about them." Maybe this blue light is good, maybe it's a miracle that will make the Norwegian hockey team a contender, and beat Canada for a gold medal..... yeah I think the space program will happen first.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
I have a confession to make
Ok everyone, time to clear the air and let everyone know the truth. This is not something I'm proud of but it has to be said........I slept with Tiger Woods too. Ok I didn't but it seems like everyone else has these days, so why not jump on that bandwagon, I mean I've already set my watch, my fifteen minutes of fame are getting ever closer. It's interesting to see just how far the mighty Tiger has fallen these days. As a matter of fact tigers get a bad rap in general in the media, the last time we saw a tiger get this much coverage one tried to eat Siegfried, now Tiger Woods is guilty of trying to eat......................um nevermind.
Now, of course I don't know Tiger Woods, he seems like a nice guy, obviously pretty friendly from news reports. I don't want to take away from the sanctity of marriage, or defend Tiger if all these stories are actually true, but that's the thing, how many of these stories are actually true. How many of these women are sitting at home, hearing about Tiger's supposed infidelites, and suddenly remember a time they fooled around with the greatest golfer in the world. Now don't get me wrong I'm not saying all women are money sucking leeches, many are on the up and up, but there are women (and men too I'm sure if it were a female celebrity) who saw their opportunity and they took it. Usually that's what heroes do, but not in this case.
Day after Day since Tiger crashed his escalade into a fire hydrant and tree, we've seen woman after woman come out and say they've grabbed the Tiger by the tail. All this talk about Tiger mounting trophies besides the one on his wall has led to loss of his public image, and sponsorships, and it's a suitable punishment if in fact he can't keep his driver in the bag if you know what I mean. When describing the situation to a friend who hadn't heard the story, the best way I could describe it was it's a lot of nobody else's business. However, once again, the media doesn't see it that way, I'm willing to bet that CNN intercepted the onstar call when Tiger crashed just to be the first on the scene.
How much this hurts Tiger's career is yet to be seen, will people forget about the 9 holes he played off the course when he plays 9 holes on the course again. Will they cheer and pump their fists for him like they used too? Personally I could still watch him play golf just like I always have, if there is nothing else on and all the channels are gone except that one channel that is airing golf. Even if Tiger paid off every supposed mistress with those oversized novelty cheques why should the public care, shouldn't it be just between Tiger, his wife, and the other woman or women involved. There is a saying, let he without sin cast the first stone, so with that being said let's see how many of the gallery at Tigers next golf game shows up with rocks.
Now, of course I don't know Tiger Woods, he seems like a nice guy, obviously pretty friendly from news reports. I don't want to take away from the sanctity of marriage, or defend Tiger if all these stories are actually true, but that's the thing, how many of these stories are actually true. How many of these women are sitting at home, hearing about Tiger's supposed infidelites, and suddenly remember a time they fooled around with the greatest golfer in the world. Now don't get me wrong I'm not saying all women are money sucking leeches, many are on the up and up, but there are women (and men too I'm sure if it were a female celebrity) who saw their opportunity and they took it. Usually that's what heroes do, but not in this case.
Day after Day since Tiger crashed his escalade into a fire hydrant and tree, we've seen woman after woman come out and say they've grabbed the Tiger by the tail. All this talk about Tiger mounting trophies besides the one on his wall has led to loss of his public image, and sponsorships, and it's a suitable punishment if in fact he can't keep his driver in the bag if you know what I mean. When describing the situation to a friend who hadn't heard the story, the best way I could describe it was it's a lot of nobody else's business. However, once again, the media doesn't see it that way, I'm willing to bet that CNN intercepted the onstar call when Tiger crashed just to be the first on the scene.
How much this hurts Tiger's career is yet to be seen, will people forget about the 9 holes he played off the course when he plays 9 holes on the course again. Will they cheer and pump their fists for him like they used too? Personally I could still watch him play golf just like I always have, if there is nothing else on and all the channels are gone except that one channel that is airing golf. Even if Tiger paid off every supposed mistress with those oversized novelty cheques why should the public care, shouldn't it be just between Tiger, his wife, and the other woman or women involved. There is a saying, let he without sin cast the first stone, so with that being said let's see how many of the gallery at Tigers next golf game shows up with rocks.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Has anybody seen my water
This morning started like every other morning, I woke up though I didn't want to be awake yet, and I knew that Mr. Sandman had disappeared, so I arose, it was then I found out that something else had disappeared also. It appears that at some point during the night, or wee hours of the morning, my water has disappeared. My first thought was that the pipes were frozen, and that would require telling the landlady, she's an older lady so that would require a half hour conversation. Without the ability to make tea, I tried to hold it together, but my thinking became more irrational, my god what if somebody had stolen our water. What reason would they have for doing this, does this person want to destroy the water like Mr. Burns wanted to block out the sun, why does he hate the elements.
Calming myself down I begrudgingly put on my boots and made the trek around the corner of the house to see my landlady, she knew why I was there, for her water was gone too, and our neighbours across the street, and throughout this entire section of city. Surely the water thief was busy last night, hitting home after home. After I relayed my fears to my landlady she calmly assured me there was no such thing as a water thief and that there was a break in the water system. My rational side wanted to believe her, but my frosted side wondered why she would be covering up for this thief, so I decided to confront her, she's 70, surely I could take her, as I screamed for answers, it was then I discoverd her shockingly cat like reflexes as she hurled me down the steps, sending me running for a hot water bottle. Though without the services of hot water I learned those things are fairly useless.
**Pause the above fight scene did not happen, see what happens when I am deprived of tea,**Unpause**
So here I sit, waiting, watching, hoping for a sign for the return of my precious water, but I don't know how much longer I can hold out. Cracks in my once strong armor are starting to show, I just washed my face in milk, they say it does a body good but now I'm all sticky, maybe I can use the juice from this orange I found in the fridge, oh god, the citric acid burns, Mcbain was right, the goggles do nothing. The irrational side is coming back, but it's more a fear of the unknown, for if there is a water thief amongst us, who knows whats on tap for us next. Will he try to drain us of our spirit? will he flush away all our goodwill? Water you doing to us water thief, if your reading this I just want you to know that this morning I brushed my teeth with maple syrup and it was both demoralizing and delicious, and I hope your happy.
Calming myself down I begrudgingly put on my boots and made the trek around the corner of the house to see my landlady, she knew why I was there, for her water was gone too, and our neighbours across the street, and throughout this entire section of city. Surely the water thief was busy last night, hitting home after home. After I relayed my fears to my landlady she calmly assured me there was no such thing as a water thief and that there was a break in the water system. My rational side wanted to believe her, but my frosted side wondered why she would be covering up for this thief, so I decided to confront her, she's 70, surely I could take her, as I screamed for answers, it was then I discoverd her shockingly cat like reflexes as she hurled me down the steps, sending me running for a hot water bottle. Though without the services of hot water I learned those things are fairly useless.
**Pause the above fight scene did not happen, see what happens when I am deprived of tea,**Unpause**
So here I sit, waiting, watching, hoping for a sign for the return of my precious water, but I don't know how much longer I can hold out. Cracks in my once strong armor are starting to show, I just washed my face in milk, they say it does a body good but now I'm all sticky, maybe I can use the juice from this orange I found in the fridge, oh god, the citric acid burns, Mcbain was right, the goggles do nothing. The irrational side is coming back, but it's more a fear of the unknown, for if there is a water thief amongst us, who knows whats on tap for us next. Will he try to drain us of our spirit? will he flush away all our goodwill? Water you doing to us water thief, if your reading this I just want you to know that this morning I brushed my teeth with maple syrup and it was both demoralizing and delicious, and I hope your happy.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Mr. Plow
Thats his name, that name again is Mr. Plow. Don't be fooled, Mr. Plow is not the jovial man you've seen on the Simpsons, Mr. Plow is cunning, calculated. Mr. Plow waits in the shadows, lurking behind a pile of freshly shovelled snow. He is a patient man, that Mr. Plow, content to sit and wait until the last blade of snow is gone, till finally the driveway is clean. It is then, and only then that he strikes, his menacing laugh silenced only by the roar of his engine, and the sinister beep beep beep that warns of his presence. Mr. Plow is the scurge of shovellers everywhere, for as soon as they have freedom, as soon as they can see a road that will take them from their imprisonment he says "Not so fast" and blocks them in again.
Mr Plow rarely makes himself seen, often waiting until the poor maligned shoveller goes back inside to rest his weary muscles, then he makes his move, taking away not only the open spaces but hope as well. Some shovellers fight back, they throw the snow at the plow, or shake their fists or throw expletives at Mr. Plow, but he is unhindered in his quest to annoy the shovellers and deny access to the streets he calls home. I do not know what happened in Mr. Plow's childhood, maybe he hand an unyielding father who forced him to shovel from dawn to dusk, then putting the snow back so he could shovel some more. Maybe all his attempts at snowmen making were knocked over by neighbourhood bullies, forcing him to take his revenge on the innocent homeowners of today.
At the time of this writing Mr. Plow has not struck my driveway, not yet anyway, but I lie in wait, waiting for the beep beep, waiting for the yellowish menace to destroy my hard work. It has happened before, it will happen again, and I know the result, I will go shovel again, cause Mr. Plow is too big, to powerful. Many have tried to take him, many have failed, for he is too fast, too elusive, using the pure white snow as a cloaking device for his evil deads. In the distance now I hear a noise, it is faint, but I can make it out.....BEEP, hmm he approaches.....BEEP is only a matter of time now........BEEP .......ah false alarm, was only a big truck backing up. I continue to sit and wait, not just for the streets to be clean of snow, but for the streets to be clean of the menace that is Mr. Plow, yes that's his name, how could you forget the name of Mr. Plow.
Mr Plow rarely makes himself seen, often waiting until the poor maligned shoveller goes back inside to rest his weary muscles, then he makes his move, taking away not only the open spaces but hope as well. Some shovellers fight back, they throw the snow at the plow, or shake their fists or throw expletives at Mr. Plow, but he is unhindered in his quest to annoy the shovellers and deny access to the streets he calls home. I do not know what happened in Mr. Plow's childhood, maybe he hand an unyielding father who forced him to shovel from dawn to dusk, then putting the snow back so he could shovel some more. Maybe all his attempts at snowmen making were knocked over by neighbourhood bullies, forcing him to take his revenge on the innocent homeowners of today.
At the time of this writing Mr. Plow has not struck my driveway, not yet anyway, but I lie in wait, waiting for the beep beep, waiting for the yellowish menace to destroy my hard work. It has happened before, it will happen again, and I know the result, I will go shovel again, cause Mr. Plow is too big, to powerful. Many have tried to take him, many have failed, for he is too fast, too elusive, using the pure white snow as a cloaking device for his evil deads. In the distance now I hear a noise, it is faint, but I can make it out.....BEEP, hmm he approaches.....BEEP is only a matter of time now........BEEP .......ah false alarm, was only a big truck backing up. I continue to sit and wait, not just for the streets to be clean of snow, but for the streets to be clean of the menace that is Mr. Plow, yes that's his name, how could you forget the name of Mr. Plow.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
And snow and snow and snow, might as well throw in a lot of wind too, and ice pellets, everyone likes getting hit with ice pellets. It seems mother nature has decided to unleash her full fury on our little province today, it's just like the movie Whiteout outside, the main similarity being I don't want to see either one. The storm was supposed to hit last night, but at least held off long enough until I was able to get to work, until about 9:30 when she said "ok, you've waited long enough, let's see how you like this." Well despite getting me off work early, I don't like this, for you see I have a satellite dish, and while it has it's benefits like CBC from every province(your still waiting for the benefits aren't you) the satellite people put it in a poor location, so all it takes is a mosquito hitting it to take it down; so you can imagine how a winter storm that would make a yeti stay in affects it.
It wouldn't be so bad, I don't watch much tv since I discovered I could find my shows on the internet if I miss them, but today is football day, and there was a pay-per-view tonight, which luckily I hadn't ordered yet, as past experiences have shown, it sucks to pay for something I haven't seen. I was not ready for this snow yet, January would have been fine, Febuary even better, but not now, I'm not in shovelling shape yet, I don't even think the shovel is in shovelling shape, when I went to grab it today it said "hey don't touch me, I ain't ready yet." Ok I made up the voice but you know what I mean. I really think I just saw a polar bear walk by, or it could have been a person in a white coat and a bottle of coke, I can't really see out the window to verify.
Thankfully the lights are holding, blinking every once and a while, but staying strong, for if I lost my source of tea, there would be some Jack Nicholas shining level stuff goin on around here, no tea, and no tv make Frank go something something, "go crazy" you say, don't mind if I do, bwatatatatatata. My fingers didn't slip that time, that was me going crazy, but I figure you get me. I blame Tiger woods for all this, no reason really, but everybody else is blaming him these days, I demand an apology, I don't need money, come shovel my driveway, I'm not hard to get along with Tiger, just shovel my driveway, if nothing else it'll get you out of the house for a while, cause no matter how cold it is here, it's got to be colder there these days.
Just as I was getting used to the climate change and global warming, just as I was getting used to unseasonable warmth in December, something like this goes and happens. The weather people say it's supposed to be about 40 cm at most I think, I tried to measure how much has fallen, but my ruler fell in the snow, just another kick in the proverbial snowballs. On the bright side there is supposed to sun tomorrow, just nice enough to bust out and shovel a path to freedom, I can't tell you what's gonna happen, but if you don't hear from me, tell the world my story.
It wouldn't be so bad, I don't watch much tv since I discovered I could find my shows on the internet if I miss them, but today is football day, and there was a pay-per-view tonight, which luckily I hadn't ordered yet, as past experiences have shown, it sucks to pay for something I haven't seen. I was not ready for this snow yet, January would have been fine, Febuary even better, but not now, I'm not in shovelling shape yet, I don't even think the shovel is in shovelling shape, when I went to grab it today it said "hey don't touch me, I ain't ready yet." Ok I made up the voice but you know what I mean. I really think I just saw a polar bear walk by, or it could have been a person in a white coat and a bottle of coke, I can't really see out the window to verify.
Thankfully the lights are holding, blinking every once and a while, but staying strong, for if I lost my source of tea, there would be some Jack Nicholas shining level stuff goin on around here, no tea, and no tv make Frank go something something, "go crazy" you say, don't mind if I do, bwatatatatatata. My fingers didn't slip that time, that was me going crazy, but I figure you get me. I blame Tiger woods for all this, no reason really, but everybody else is blaming him these days, I demand an apology, I don't need money, come shovel my driveway, I'm not hard to get along with Tiger, just shovel my driveway, if nothing else it'll get you out of the house for a while, cause no matter how cold it is here, it's got to be colder there these days.
Just as I was getting used to the climate change and global warming, just as I was getting used to unseasonable warmth in December, something like this goes and happens. The weather people say it's supposed to be about 40 cm at most I think, I tried to measure how much has fallen, but my ruler fell in the snow, just another kick in the proverbial snowballs. On the bright side there is supposed to sun tomorrow, just nice enough to bust out and shovel a path to freedom, I can't tell you what's gonna happen, but if you don't hear from me, tell the world my story.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
My magical quest for the Starbucks Eggnog Latte
Have you ever had that one magical moment in your life, a time when everything stops, and you are lifted outside of yourself, today for me was one of these days. This quest actually started some days ago when a co-worker of mine made an off hand comment about a beverage he had acquired, the mystical eggnogg latte from Starbucks. My interest in his conversation went from fake to fascinating at the mention of this mere drink. It was at this moment that I knew I had to try this concoction, heaven and earth would have to be moved until I found myself in it's presence. Newfoundland is not like most places, while we do in fact have a great deal of Tim Horton's(hell our Tim's employees outnumber our soldiers like 10-1) we have a limited amount of Starbucks, we only have 3, while in some places in the USA I assume there are 3 on a street.
I did not care how far I had to go, for this trip would surely be worth it, surely this drink would symbolize everything good about Christmas, flowing with the right combination of eggnogg, caffiene, and the sweat of the newly born baby jesus in each cup, there was no sacrifice to small to make. My first attempt at obtaining the latte was a few days ago, but the first roadblock appeared, as I had been hit by mother nature again. No it was not rain this time, nor snow thankfully, but a bitter cold snap and the full force of her wind, which made me say screw this and walk back inside my humble abode, to the comfort of tea and the ever delicious grilled cheese sandwich.
But today, today was the day, conditions were not ideal, but were better then last time, as it was overcast and only a little chilly, yes I can deal with chilly, lifting my hood to cover my bald head I was on my way. As I mentioned before, sacrifices would have to be made to achieve my goal, and the biggest was the use of public transportation. Ah the metrobus, home of the despot and despaired, most just seeking the comfort of the others and only finding it in the form of the barely attentive busdriver, and even he/she will leave you if it's break-time and there is a Tim Horton's close to the stop. As I surrounded myself with the plebians, I thought "it's ok, I'll be there soon, and my trusty music device will allow me to block those around me out." Thankfully, I was right and the trip wasn't very long at all, upon arriving at the mall, I decided to feast upon Mary Browns in order to keep my strength up for the last of the journey. I arrived at Chapters, where this particular Starbucks was located, it was the first of it's kind in St. Johns and less walking distance so this is where I would try it out.
I joined the line up of people that waited for the various concoctions that these magical wenches whipped up before our eyes. After making my order and paying the prerequisite price of an arm and leg, I said the magic word, Grande. Magically moments later the beverage appeared before my eyes, and that's when the change happened. I was lifted, transported if you will, to somewhere else, my leather jacket and hoodie that had protected me from the cold were gone, I now found myself in a turtleneck, sitting at a table with a laptop and bluetooth headset that I had no recollection of entering with or even owning. With the utterance of that one magical word, I became more pretentious and found myself talking louder, as so to ensure everyone knew that I was writing something, my god I was writing something, where was I, how had I gotten here.
I was brought back to earth with the first sip of the latte, as the drink that for the past few days I had put on a pedestal, ranked as merely ok. It was lacking the eggnogg taste, and could have used a bit more baby Jesus sweat, all I got was mostly a taste of coffee, of which I am not so much a fan. My disappointment turned first to anger, as I wanted to find my co-worker and punch him square in the babymaker, now as he is a giant of a man and I am just about eye-level it would be fairly easy, but my levelheadedness prevailed and I thought against it. Since I had paid the arm and a leg(and given them my banking info so they could take payments out each month) I decided it was best to drink this witches brew, and drink I did until I could stands no more and tossed it in a nearby garbage bin.
They say it's not the destination that matters, but the journey, and I say screw that, and screw you Starbucks for tarnishing the good name of eggnogg. This journey taught me that magic should only be used to saw people in half or show how fast you can get out of stuff, not to play God with caffienated beverages. Oh, and by the way, my trusty music device died on the way home, luckily while the ham-n-eggers were out in force today, not many of them were on the bus, now if you'll excuse me I'm going to Tim Horton's for a gingerbread hot chocolate, you'll never let me down Tims, unless your machine is being cleaned.
I did not care how far I had to go, for this trip would surely be worth it, surely this drink would symbolize everything good about Christmas, flowing with the right combination of eggnogg, caffiene, and the sweat of the newly born baby jesus in each cup, there was no sacrifice to small to make. My first attempt at obtaining the latte was a few days ago, but the first roadblock appeared, as I had been hit by mother nature again. No it was not rain this time, nor snow thankfully, but a bitter cold snap and the full force of her wind, which made me say screw this and walk back inside my humble abode, to the comfort of tea and the ever delicious grilled cheese sandwich.
But today, today was the day, conditions were not ideal, but were better then last time, as it was overcast and only a little chilly, yes I can deal with chilly, lifting my hood to cover my bald head I was on my way. As I mentioned before, sacrifices would have to be made to achieve my goal, and the biggest was the use of public transportation. Ah the metrobus, home of the despot and despaired, most just seeking the comfort of the others and only finding it in the form of the barely attentive busdriver, and even he/she will leave you if it's break-time and there is a Tim Horton's close to the stop. As I surrounded myself with the plebians, I thought "it's ok, I'll be there soon, and my trusty music device will allow me to block those around me out." Thankfully, I was right and the trip wasn't very long at all, upon arriving at the mall, I decided to feast upon Mary Browns in order to keep my strength up for the last of the journey. I arrived at Chapters, where this particular Starbucks was located, it was the first of it's kind in St. Johns and less walking distance so this is where I would try it out.
I joined the line up of people that waited for the various concoctions that these magical wenches whipped up before our eyes. After making my order and paying the prerequisite price of an arm and leg, I said the magic word, Grande. Magically moments later the beverage appeared before my eyes, and that's when the change happened. I was lifted, transported if you will, to somewhere else, my leather jacket and hoodie that had protected me from the cold were gone, I now found myself in a turtleneck, sitting at a table with a laptop and bluetooth headset that I had no recollection of entering with or even owning. With the utterance of that one magical word, I became more pretentious and found myself talking louder, as so to ensure everyone knew that I was writing something, my god I was writing something, where was I, how had I gotten here.
I was brought back to earth with the first sip of the latte, as the drink that for the past few days I had put on a pedestal, ranked as merely ok. It was lacking the eggnogg taste, and could have used a bit more baby Jesus sweat, all I got was mostly a taste of coffee, of which I am not so much a fan. My disappointment turned first to anger, as I wanted to find my co-worker and punch him square in the babymaker, now as he is a giant of a man and I am just about eye-level it would be fairly easy, but my levelheadedness prevailed and I thought against it. Since I had paid the arm and a leg(and given them my banking info so they could take payments out each month) I decided it was best to drink this witches brew, and drink I did until I could stands no more and tossed it in a nearby garbage bin.
They say it's not the destination that matters, but the journey, and I say screw that, and screw you Starbucks for tarnishing the good name of eggnogg. This journey taught me that magic should only be used to saw people in half or show how fast you can get out of stuff, not to play God with caffienated beverages. Oh, and by the way, my trusty music device died on the way home, luckily while the ham-n-eggers were out in force today, not many of them were on the bus, now if you'll excuse me I'm going to Tim Horton's for a gingerbread hot chocolate, you'll never let me down Tims, unless your machine is being cleaned.
Reviews for movies I will never see: New Moon
I'm back again to review a movie that I will never see, and get out your pitchforks girls cause this time it's Twilight: New Moon. From what I have figured from commercials and conversations I hear at work, New Moon appears to be the tale of two girls, one who just happens to be a vampire. The female vampire played by Robert Pattinson disappears, and there's a werewolf or something, judging by appearances, the werewolf is played by the other lead female, Ashley Greene. That's right, New Moon sets out to not just ruin vampires, but werewolves as well, and while we are on the subject of werewolves, Teen Wolf, now that was a fine movie, with quality acting from Micheal J. Fox.
Now for some reason there are a lot of topless pale men in this movie, it was like watching a guess jeans commercial only a tad more gay, I mean if I didn't know any better, and I don't, I could swear it was filmed in San Francisco(not that there is anything wrong with that, from what I've seen San Francisco looks like a beautiful city). It appears in this movie the lead female vampire Pattinson wants to meet with a council or something and be given the right to die, which makes sense cause if I was vampire, and the only thing I could do was sparkle in daylight, i'd want to die too. Can you imagine how much teasing this vampire gets? I can just see Blade giving this vampire a huge wedgie, that's assuming he's out on a day pass from the jail he's in for tax evasion, was it tax evasion, or being too awesome to stay on the outside, I can't remember. I can also see Dracula harrassing this kid if he wasn't too busy being a real vampire, putting his face on cereal boxes, and ya know actually scaring people.
Before I finish this review I just wanna take a moment of silence for the all the guys who had to go see this movie unwillingly. I know for the price of $10 and a couple of testicles, you can keep your girlfriend happy, and it's just easier that way, but it is a big burden to carry. Also, to all the girls out there who can't decide if they are on Team Edward or Team Jacob, here's a tip, in real life werewolves and vampires do not exist, if they did the werewolves would only eat you; besides, they are only werewolves on a full moon, and that doesn't happen a lot, so really it'd be like "yeah I'm dating a werewolf, but it's on a couple of times a month". If you side with the vampires, well you can't go out in the daytime, they disintegrate, well the cool ones do, in this case your just dating Mr. Sparkle, might not have any powers, but he can get your dishes clean(Simpsons fans have my back on this one). So in conclusion, I just wanna say, that sure this seems to be a popular movie, as many people lined up for hours to see it, but many people lined up for hours for the H1N1 shot too, both are painful, but one is a waste of money.
Now for some reason there are a lot of topless pale men in this movie, it was like watching a guess jeans commercial only a tad more gay, I mean if I didn't know any better, and I don't, I could swear it was filmed in San Francisco(not that there is anything wrong with that, from what I've seen San Francisco looks like a beautiful city). It appears in this movie the lead female vampire Pattinson wants to meet with a council or something and be given the right to die, which makes sense cause if I was vampire, and the only thing I could do was sparkle in daylight, i'd want to die too. Can you imagine how much teasing this vampire gets? I can just see Blade giving this vampire a huge wedgie, that's assuming he's out on a day pass from the jail he's in for tax evasion, was it tax evasion, or being too awesome to stay on the outside, I can't remember. I can also see Dracula harrassing this kid if he wasn't too busy being a real vampire, putting his face on cereal boxes, and ya know actually scaring people.
Before I finish this review I just wanna take a moment of silence for the all the guys who had to go see this movie unwillingly. I know for the price of $10 and a couple of testicles, you can keep your girlfriend happy, and it's just easier that way, but it is a big burden to carry. Also, to all the girls out there who can't decide if they are on Team Edward or Team Jacob, here's a tip, in real life werewolves and vampires do not exist, if they did the werewolves would only eat you; besides, they are only werewolves on a full moon, and that doesn't happen a lot, so really it'd be like "yeah I'm dating a werewolf, but it's on a couple of times a month". If you side with the vampires, well you can't go out in the daytime, they disintegrate, well the cool ones do, in this case your just dating Mr. Sparkle, might not have any powers, but he can get your dishes clean(Simpsons fans have my back on this one). So in conclusion, I just wanna say, that sure this seems to be a popular movie, as many people lined up for hours to see it, but many people lined up for hours for the H1N1 shot too, both are painful, but one is a waste of money.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Shocking news out of BC, Sasquatch discovered
It is an exciting time for the province of British Columbia, in just a couple of months the world will converge there for the Winter Olympics, it's early in the season so the Canucks haven't choked yet, and it appears the Sasquatch lives, and calls British Columbia home. In search of news that didn't involve Tiger Woods apologizing for rear-ending something other then a tree, I stumbled across the giant beast. According to the world's most reliable source on everything ever created, wikipedia, the mammoth Sasquatch just walked out in front of a group of school kids, and despite videos of the past he was not blurry in the slightest. Their were a myriad of different reactions when the legendary figure walked out, some kids soiled theirselves, the huge contingent of pot smokers thought they were hallucinating, while some star wars nerds thought it was in fact Chewbacca and ran to get autographs, all the while telling him how bad Attack of the Clones was.
It appears that British Columbia is so excited about the arrival of Bigfoot, that they have made him the official mascot of the Olympic games. The Canadian Olympic committee looking for any edge they could find on home turf figured that most countries would be distracted, some so terrified they may withdraw from competitions leading to medal sweeps in all categories. They tested this theory by having the Bigfoot emerge from the woods during the Canadian alpine team ski training, the skiers so terrified, set world record speeds on their way down the hill. They had considered using Bigfoot to be the selection to light the Olympic Flame, but tests proved him to be quite flammable, so they went with a human instead.
The emergence of the Sasquatch has led to some jealousy in the monster world, as the mysterious Ogo Pogo actually emerged from the water, motioned to people as if to say "Hey, look at me I'm over here" however nobody turned around to see him. Officials are not certain why the legendary Bigfoot chose now to show himself to the world, according to wikipedia, he has desires of being a hockey goalie. This set off rampant specualtion that he was about to sign with the Toronto Maple leafs, who need all the help they can get. Upon hearing this, goalie Jonas Gustavson's heart rate immediately soared and he needed to have surgery.
The Sasquatch, or Quatchi, as he is lovingly referred to by the people of BC, has apparently felt the love of the people, and has decided to stop eating them and to embrace them, making BC his temporary home, at least until the end of the Olympic games. All my attempts to contact the family with whom Quatchi is staying failed, as the Hendersons were unavailable for comment, I did however find this picture of the family enjoying some quality time.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Reviews for movies I will never see: The Blindside
Welcome everyone to the first installment of what hopefully will be a regular occurence, where I review movies not from what I see, but based on how I think the movie will go. The premiere installment takes a look at the newest Sandra Bullock movie The Blindside, some are talking Oscar, but is it the statue or the grouch, let's see shall we. From what I saw in the trailer, Sandra Bullock strikes up a friendship with a slow, dim-witted fellow, it was then I realized I was actually watching the trailer for Speed, and that was Keanu Reeves, as the kids say these days, my bad. I assume there is some family tension, what with bringing in a stranger and all, slow bonding between the newcomber and the kids that are being overshadowed by the new stranger. Bullock seems to have gained a southern accent for the movie, which makes her a little more hotter, and ensures that unlike her other movies, I at least will watch this commercial with the sound on.
The big story of the movie seems to center around football, and I assume there is more fish out of water hijinks between the other main character and his new found teammates. I have heard this was based on a true story, and the kid actually ended up being drafted by the Baltimore Ravens, if this is true, then I guess the story does not have a happy ending, cause really who wants to play for the Ravens. I'm gonna assume that Bullock's character in this movie is having marital problems and maybe starts to have feelings for her new friend, as to add some juiciness to the story, as M. Night Shamalamadingdong would say when making one of his movies "WHAT A TWIST."
However, the twists don't end there, even though Bullock has feelings for other main character, it turns out this shy fellow, while showering with the other guys, finds something in himself that makes him think "hey, I like this" and finds out that he is gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that, I mean Heath Ledger played a gay character, and look where it got him......he played the Joker to much critical acclaim. Between these shocking developments and a couple of high speed chases thrown in on the way to rival teams stadiums, I'm sure the Blindside is a non-stop thrill ride for the whole(female part) of the family to enjoy.
Next up, Twilight.
The big story of the movie seems to center around football, and I assume there is more fish out of water hijinks between the other main character and his new found teammates. I have heard this was based on a true story, and the kid actually ended up being drafted by the Baltimore Ravens, if this is true, then I guess the story does not have a happy ending, cause really who wants to play for the Ravens. I'm gonna assume that Bullock's character in this movie is having marital problems and maybe starts to have feelings for her new friend, as to add some juiciness to the story, as M. Night Shamalamadingdong would say when making one of his movies "WHAT A TWIST."
However, the twists don't end there, even though Bullock has feelings for other main character, it turns out this shy fellow, while showering with the other guys, finds something in himself that makes him think "hey, I like this" and finds out that he is gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that, I mean Heath Ledger played a gay character, and look where it got him......he played the Joker to much critical acclaim. Between these shocking developments and a couple of high speed chases thrown in on the way to rival teams stadiums, I'm sure the Blindside is a non-stop thrill ride for the whole(female part) of the family to enjoy.
Next up, Twilight.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Things in my childhood have been ruined with age, Chapter 3
Before I start this installment of the slow death of my childhood, I'd like to again wish a happy birthday to my nephew Duncan. Three years old today, and another step closer to that lucrative basketball contract and shoe deal that his dad has planned out for him. Lastly, if mommy or daddy wants to send me a piece of cake in the mail, I will eat weeks old cake, I have no shame in that regard. Anywho, onto Chapter 3 of things in my childhood that have been ruined with age, so far we've focused on cereal characters, and tv shows, so today lets look at the mythical figures that come around once a year when holidays come around. When I was a child these were exciting times, a chance to try and stay up as late as you could to see these creatures, but it was always in vain.
*Santa Claus- I know I've been a bit hard on Christmas lately, and it's hard to come down hard on somebody who delivers presents to boys and girls all over the world; however, Santa Claus is not a man without flaw, as I discovered in my later years. Santa does all his travelling in a sleigh hauled by reindeer, and he goes all over the world, the man obviously breaks every speed law that is in existence, speeding about like some high school teenage boy who has taken his dad's convertible for the day, not thinking of anyone else that might out for a leisurely drive, or in this case, flight. Then there is a matter of customs, ol Santa must not stop at any borders, does he get his stuff searched, what's he tryin to hide. There is also a matter of the reindeer, the true work horses(or deer) of the team, I mean there are all those toys, and Santa got to weigh about 350 from pictures I've seen, so it's not easy on them. Santa gets all the cookies and milk at the houses, what do rudolph and the gang get, some measly carrots and told to wait outside. At least those Toronto Humane Society workers fed their animals, sure the food may have been expired, but they fed them, where's PETA when you really need them. Lastly, there's the elves, forced to work hundreds of hours in the shop for Santa, making sure everything is just so, just what are their wages, has Santa ever opened up the books, how do we know they're not making the same as little Tibor in some Peruvian sneaker sweat shop. Perhaps it's not the weather that makes the North Pole a cold place to work, it's they conditions of the ruthless taskmaster, while he is being paraded through the streets of every city, they slave and toil to meet unrelenting deadlines.
*The Easter Bunny- If bugs bunny has taught me anything, it's that rabbits can be hilarious; however, if the Easter Bunny has taught me anything, it's that rabbits want you to have diabetes. I know it's hard for the Easter Bunny, living in the shadow of his cooler and more popluar brother, the Playboy Bunny, it was harder for him with girls, to get accepted, he needed an edge and this edge was chocolate. I mean girls love chocolate, kids love chocolate, it's a can't miss situation; but, try as he may the Easter Bunny still couldn't find acceptance, so the need for acceptance turned to frustration, and that led to hiding those stupid delicious eggs all over your house, sending you scouring your home for hours on end trying to find them all. All the good feelings turned to manipulation, as the Easter Bunny masterfully plays kids against each other, have you ever seen kids at an Easter egg hunt, what starts out as mild-mannered fun often becomes raging bloodlust when one kid has all the chocolates. I know he must have had it rough growing up, probably the youngest of a hundred or so kids, but the Easter Bunny must be brought down, we must snare the hare as fast as possible.
*The Tooth Fairy- Many kids are quite enamled(get it, it's like enamoured, but enamel is part of teeth) with the Tooth Fairy, as this magic mistress will pay top dollar for your teeth. Even as a child I thought there was something strange about this, why did this woman want my teeth, what would she do with it; however, this never stopped me from collecting the rewards thay lay under my pillow. Time and perspective have taught me that the reaping of body parts is something straight out of the jungles of haiti, how do I know that somewhere there is not a little doll with my teeth on it, could every ache and pain I suffer not be due to long work days, but the sick joke of some voodoo master. Can we really trust the tooth fairy? Maybe she is responsible for many worldwide crime sprees, she has the dna of hundreds of people stored away, a little plant at a crime scene, and she's off scott free, leaving some unsuspecting person to go before court where he must tell the tooth, the whole tooth, and nothing but the tooth.
Year after year we let these legendary figures into our home, when the time comes to visit we disable our Brinks Home security systems and let them go about their business, but is it really safe. A couple of Christmases ago I got a nice watch from one of my brothers, but when April came around, sure I got some nice chocolates, but in the search for those chocolates, the only discovery I made was that my watch was missing, now that's something to think about.
*Santa Claus- I know I've been a bit hard on Christmas lately, and it's hard to come down hard on somebody who delivers presents to boys and girls all over the world; however, Santa Claus is not a man without flaw, as I discovered in my later years. Santa does all his travelling in a sleigh hauled by reindeer, and he goes all over the world, the man obviously breaks every speed law that is in existence, speeding about like some high school teenage boy who has taken his dad's convertible for the day, not thinking of anyone else that might out for a leisurely drive, or in this case, flight. Then there is a matter of customs, ol Santa must not stop at any borders, does he get his stuff searched, what's he tryin to hide. There is also a matter of the reindeer, the true work horses(or deer) of the team, I mean there are all those toys, and Santa got to weigh about 350 from pictures I've seen, so it's not easy on them. Santa gets all the cookies and milk at the houses, what do rudolph and the gang get, some measly carrots and told to wait outside. At least those Toronto Humane Society workers fed their animals, sure the food may have been expired, but they fed them, where's PETA when you really need them. Lastly, there's the elves, forced to work hundreds of hours in the shop for Santa, making sure everything is just so, just what are their wages, has Santa ever opened up the books, how do we know they're not making the same as little Tibor in some Peruvian sneaker sweat shop. Perhaps it's not the weather that makes the North Pole a cold place to work, it's they conditions of the ruthless taskmaster, while he is being paraded through the streets of every city, they slave and toil to meet unrelenting deadlines.
*The Easter Bunny- If bugs bunny has taught me anything, it's that rabbits can be hilarious; however, if the Easter Bunny has taught me anything, it's that rabbits want you to have diabetes. I know it's hard for the Easter Bunny, living in the shadow of his cooler and more popluar brother, the Playboy Bunny, it was harder for him with girls, to get accepted, he needed an edge and this edge was chocolate. I mean girls love chocolate, kids love chocolate, it's a can't miss situation; but, try as he may the Easter Bunny still couldn't find acceptance, so the need for acceptance turned to frustration, and that led to hiding those stupid delicious eggs all over your house, sending you scouring your home for hours on end trying to find them all. All the good feelings turned to manipulation, as the Easter Bunny masterfully plays kids against each other, have you ever seen kids at an Easter egg hunt, what starts out as mild-mannered fun often becomes raging bloodlust when one kid has all the chocolates. I know he must have had it rough growing up, probably the youngest of a hundred or so kids, but the Easter Bunny must be brought down, we must snare the hare as fast as possible.
*The Tooth Fairy- Many kids are quite enamled(get it, it's like enamoured, but enamel is part of teeth) with the Tooth Fairy, as this magic mistress will pay top dollar for your teeth. Even as a child I thought there was something strange about this, why did this woman want my teeth, what would she do with it; however, this never stopped me from collecting the rewards thay lay under my pillow. Time and perspective have taught me that the reaping of body parts is something straight out of the jungles of haiti, how do I know that somewhere there is not a little doll with my teeth on it, could every ache and pain I suffer not be due to long work days, but the sick joke of some voodoo master. Can we really trust the tooth fairy? Maybe she is responsible for many worldwide crime sprees, she has the dna of hundreds of people stored away, a little plant at a crime scene, and she's off scott free, leaving some unsuspecting person to go before court where he must tell the tooth, the whole tooth, and nothing but the tooth.
Year after year we let these legendary figures into our home, when the time comes to visit we disable our Brinks Home security systems and let them go about their business, but is it really safe. A couple of Christmases ago I got a nice watch from one of my brothers, but when April came around, sure I got some nice chocolates, but in the search for those chocolates, the only discovery I made was that my watch was missing, now that's something to think about.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)