Blog Question Of The Day:
Why does heat make hair curl?
Friday, May 01, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I could rattle on, and on, for a page or more about how stupefyingly boring tonight's Leonard Cohen concert was. Or I could preach about the stupidity of the blackness imposed upon us by the show. Perhaps I could best illustrate my point about the insipid dictum that absolute silence be upheld at all times.
I could do that but I will best make my point with one example.
I am leaving the building as the show is winding to its grand finale. In another other 'concert' (and I use the term loosely in this connotation) the energy of the show would be ramping up to a crowning point, before cresting and ending abruptly, having achieved the intent of leaving the crowd with more.
As I walk towards the door, rather than hear a pulsating roar from the stage, or an intensity from a crowd that is loving the show, I can hear, from somewhere within the pitch black darkess of the side of the stage, a portable generator. My ears are not filled with the sound of the show. My senses are not sparkled by a crowd enthralled with the performance. I can hear a stupid, portable generator, cranking out electricity. Its drowning out the performance on the stage to the point that I can't hear the singing, but do hear this mechanical pulsing, as I walk towards the door.
If that doesn't signify the pathetic energy of this show any more vividly, then I'm a lousy story-teller.
I could do that but I will best make my point with one example.
I am leaving the building as the show is winding to its grand finale. In another other 'concert' (and I use the term loosely in this connotation) the energy of the show would be ramping up to a crowning point, before cresting and ending abruptly, having achieved the intent of leaving the crowd with more.
As I walk towards the door, rather than hear a pulsating roar from the stage, or an intensity from a crowd that is loving the show, I can hear, from somewhere within the pitch black darkess of the side of the stage, a portable generator. My ears are not filled with the sound of the show. My senses are not sparkled by a crowd enthralled with the performance. I can hear a stupid, portable generator, cranking out electricity. Its drowning out the performance on the stage to the point that I can't hear the singing, but do hear this mechanical pulsing, as I walk towards the door.
If that doesn't signify the pathetic energy of this show any more vividly, then I'm a lousy story-teller.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
"People seen on the street today, top one answer to the question . . .Is it warm enough for shorts yet!?! What's your answer?"
"We're going to go with YES!"
"Show me YES!!!"
BBBBBUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
"That would be WRONG. You all suck. For your stupidity you will now be shot summarily."
BANG!!!
"We're going to go with YES!"
"Show me YES!!!"
BBBBBUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
"That would be WRONG. You all suck. For your stupidity you will now be shot summarily."
BANG!!!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Okay girls, we have to talk.
That piercing, where you put a stud under your bottom lip? Yeah, that looks retarded. I know its trendy and all the girls are doing it, but its about the stupidest thing I've ever seen in my life.
Don't put shit in your face!
I can't stress this enough. No one can pull off that look. No one. At least when its the creepy goth chick you can write the decision off as part of a global failing of thought. However in the past two days I've seen two, average, ordinary, doesn't appear messed up in the head girls, with this stupid piercing under the lip.
Don't put shit in your face!
I can't stress this enough. The examples from this weekend were average, cut girls in the early/mid twenties range. They looked like your typical, girl-next-door, type. Except for this asinine piercing under the lip.
Look, let me tell you what that looks like, from a third-party persepective. I think we're supposed to be fooled into thinking its a beauty mark but ladies, that's not working.
It looks like a wart, or some kind of abnormal growth.
It might be a piece of food that you don't notice is there, but makes you look like a pig or a slob.
Perhaps its a highly unattractive cold sore, which isn't making anyone think you're pretty.
Or it could be a pimple that you're not taking care of, thus ruining your, girl-next-door appeal.
No matter what it is mistaken for, it is never mistaken for something pretty, attractive or a decision that in some way enhances your looks. It makes you look like a retard, moron or buffoon.
Please knock it off.
That piercing, where you put a stud under your bottom lip? Yeah, that looks retarded. I know its trendy and all the girls are doing it, but its about the stupidest thing I've ever seen in my life.
Don't put shit in your face!
I can't stress this enough. No one can pull off that look. No one. At least when its the creepy goth chick you can write the decision off as part of a global failing of thought. However in the past two days I've seen two, average, ordinary, doesn't appear messed up in the head girls, with this stupid piercing under the lip.
Don't put shit in your face!
I can't stress this enough. The examples from this weekend were average, cut girls in the early/mid twenties range. They looked like your typical, girl-next-door, type. Except for this asinine piercing under the lip.
Look, let me tell you what that looks like, from a third-party persepective. I think we're supposed to be fooled into thinking its a beauty mark but ladies, that's not working.
It looks like a wart, or some kind of abnormal growth.
It might be a piece of food that you don't notice is there, but makes you look like a pig or a slob.
Perhaps its a highly unattractive cold sore, which isn't making anyone think you're pretty.
Or it could be a pimple that you're not taking care of, thus ruining your, girl-next-door appeal.
No matter what it is mistaken for, it is never mistaken for something pretty, attractive or a decision that in some way enhances your looks. It makes you look like a retard, moron or buffoon.
Please knock it off.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
I finally went to the doctor this morning for my physical. Its only about 17 years now since a doctor in Saskatoon told me I needed a family doctor. That's about par for the course in how I approach the medical profession.
What a disaster the trip turned out to be. That office is a complete nightmare. How they do anything successfully I will never understand. I think they'd actually lost my appointment. It was an appointment I had to schedule 6 weeks ago because they simply had no spaces available any sooner. She looked at that chart for a long time but didn't say anything. If I go on what the doctor said, it sounds like they called him in from a day off. I heard two other people say they were there to see the same doctor. I have to assume he was called in to see patients the office staff had been booked, when he thought he was free.
To compound their uselessness, the nurse/receptionist puts me in the little examining room but doen't include any of the documentation of my file. So the doctor had to leave for what must have been 10 minutes, to find the results of tests that he'd had me do, and the notes he'd written last time.
The whole experience was a gong-show nightmare. I think he left the room about 5 times, to look something up or get more information. Each trek away was at least 5 minutes of waiting. Meanwhile I'm sitting there in my shorts, and nothing else, because that's what the nurse woman said to do. He's supposed to be giving me a physical, right? All he did for examing was look in my throat, my right ear, and do some listening with the stethesope. Now admittedly, I'm probably in pretty good health. Nevertheless, I did all this blasted waiting for that much interest in how I am?
Anyway, we get to the point of what I'm concerned about, and I tell him the problems I'm having. Lots of diarrhea, bad headaches, neck pain, dizzy spells. At the very least he did hone in on the damn headaches and we investigated that for a few minutes. (oh yeah, he also examined my feet, for reasons that are not clear to me) Sounds like migraines, he says to me. At least you got that right! So he offers me some migraine medication and promises to book me in to see a neurologist. So maybe we're going to get somewhere with the headaches.
But he gives me these migraine pills and I ask, is there anything wrong with taking these with my other medications? He doesn't know (obviously) and thus we had another long trip out of the room. Well golly gee shit, turns out the migraine pills ARE contra-indicated for people taking Prozac. It is possible to get something called 'serotonin syndrome'. I ask if that's bad and he says yeah, it could kill you. So he put exactly that much thought into prescribing me a medication, given the medical history I'd now told him about twice.
What a disaster the trip turned out to be. That office is a complete nightmare. How they do anything successfully I will never understand. I think they'd actually lost my appointment. It was an appointment I had to schedule 6 weeks ago because they simply had no spaces available any sooner. She looked at that chart for a long time but didn't say anything. If I go on what the doctor said, it sounds like they called him in from a day off. I heard two other people say they were there to see the same doctor. I have to assume he was called in to see patients the office staff had been booked, when he thought he was free.
To compound their uselessness, the nurse/receptionist puts me in the little examining room but doen't include any of the documentation of my file. So the doctor had to leave for what must have been 10 minutes, to find the results of tests that he'd had me do, and the notes he'd written last time.
The whole experience was a gong-show nightmare. I think he left the room about 5 times, to look something up or get more information. Each trek away was at least 5 minutes of waiting. Meanwhile I'm sitting there in my shorts, and nothing else, because that's what the nurse woman said to do. He's supposed to be giving me a physical, right? All he did for examing was look in my throat, my right ear, and do some listening with the stethesope. Now admittedly, I'm probably in pretty good health. Nevertheless, I did all this blasted waiting for that much interest in how I am?
Anyway, we get to the point of what I'm concerned about, and I tell him the problems I'm having. Lots of diarrhea, bad headaches, neck pain, dizzy spells. At the very least he did hone in on the damn headaches and we investigated that for a few minutes. (oh yeah, he also examined my feet, for reasons that are not clear to me) Sounds like migraines, he says to me. At least you got that right! So he offers me some migraine medication and promises to book me in to see a neurologist. So maybe we're going to get somewhere with the headaches.
But he gives me these migraine pills and I ask, is there anything wrong with taking these with my other medications? He doesn't know (obviously) and thus we had another long trip out of the room. Well golly gee shit, turns out the migraine pills ARE contra-indicated for people taking Prozac. It is possible to get something called 'serotonin syndrome'. I ask if that's bad and he says yeah, it could kill you. So he put exactly that much thought into prescribing me a medication, given the medical history I'd now told him about twice.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Were you ever just sitting around, kinda bored, and you got an idea into your head? Nothing bizarre or strange, just something that seemed like a good idea? But it got stuck there and you couldn't get it out until you satisfied the notion?
That happened to me today. I was sitting in French class and I got hungry. Which led me to think, I'd like one of those wrap sandwiches like I've had before. This necessitated a trip to Subway.
Did you ever go to Subway, later in the night, privately expecting it to be a quick and painless experience? Then you see a line and you're secretly disappointed and a little bit annoyed? That also happened to me today.
But, as I opened this post, I had a craving in me for a wrap from Subway so just walking away wasn't an option. Nevertheless it was one of the most painful Subway experiences of my life.
Is this what we've degenerated to? Is this all we have left for staff to work at Subway? I don't fault the poor woman who was trying to make all these subs. She's an immigrant. She's just trying to do the best she can. But who is the BLOODY asshole that stranded this woman alone in the Subway? She clearly couldn't handle working by herself. This was painfully obvious. It took me 5 minutes to get my sandwich AFTER I got to the front of the line. I probably stood in line for 20 minutes before I made it to the counter.
And it wasn't that busy. There was 4 people in front of me. That's assuming you count the smug, fur trading little bitches that were at the front of the line as one group. I have a lot of choice words for those two rug munching little whores. Let's leave it at, they deserved to have their designer haute cuisine Subway SANDWICHES jammed straight up the v-notch and left to cause a nasty yeast infection.
Back to the line. Its like watching a train wreck. You don't wanna look but you can't help yourself. Everything is moving so slowly that all you can do is watch the carnage. And that's what it was. This poor, immigrant woman is trying her very best to make a half dozen sandwiches. Either she's new to this, hasn't been well trained, or this just isn't her calling in life. Nevertheless she was slow on a glacial scale. And everyone is getting pissed. But you can't do anything to help her because she's the only Subway employee and we're just hungry sandwich eaters. It just so, bloody SAD.
So here's to you manager of Subway. I hope you choke on your blood sausage tonight. Your staffing decision is inexcusable.
That happened to me today. I was sitting in French class and I got hungry. Which led me to think, I'd like one of those wrap sandwiches like I've had before. This necessitated a trip to Subway.
Did you ever go to Subway, later in the night, privately expecting it to be a quick and painless experience? Then you see a line and you're secretly disappointed and a little bit annoyed? That also happened to me today.
But, as I opened this post, I had a craving in me for a wrap from Subway so just walking away wasn't an option. Nevertheless it was one of the most painful Subway experiences of my life.
Is this what we've degenerated to? Is this all we have left for staff to work at Subway? I don't fault the poor woman who was trying to make all these subs. She's an immigrant. She's just trying to do the best she can. But who is the BLOODY asshole that stranded this woman alone in the Subway? She clearly couldn't handle working by herself. This was painfully obvious. It took me 5 minutes to get my sandwich AFTER I got to the front of the line. I probably stood in line for 20 minutes before I made it to the counter.
And it wasn't that busy. There was 4 people in front of me. That's assuming you count the smug, fur trading little bitches that were at the front of the line as one group. I have a lot of choice words for those two rug munching little whores. Let's leave it at, they deserved to have their designer haute cuisine Subway SANDWICHES jammed straight up the v-notch and left to cause a nasty yeast infection.
Back to the line. Its like watching a train wreck. You don't wanna look but you can't help yourself. Everything is moving so slowly that all you can do is watch the carnage. And that's what it was. This poor, immigrant woman is trying her very best to make a half dozen sandwiches. Either she's new to this, hasn't been well trained, or this just isn't her calling in life. Nevertheless she was slow on a glacial scale. And everyone is getting pissed. But you can't do anything to help her because she's the only Subway employee and we're just hungry sandwich eaters. It just so, bloody SAD.
So here's to you manager of Subway. I hope you choke on your blood sausage tonight. Your staffing decision is inexcusable.
Monday, April 06, 2009
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Thursday, April 02, 2009
When I was flying home last week, I had my Playstation Portable in my coat pocket. I was playing football in the terminal and I didn’t finish the game, so I just put the PSP in my pocket so I could get on the plane, get seated, and finish the game. Well I had Row 2 so there was no, beneath the seat ahead of you, spot and I had to put my backpack in the overhead bin. The consequence of all this is, when I finished my game of football, the only place I had to store my PSP was back in my coat pocket.
The problem with this is, I don’t have deep pockets on that coat. When the plane took off, and banked up hard, all the stuff in my pockets fell out, including my phone and PSP. The PSP ended up three rows back and towards the aisle, so it made quite the trek just falling out of my pocket.
I mention all of this because, in falling out of my pocket and skidding across the plane, one of the little buttons on it fell off and was irretrievably lost. My PSP is fine, and I can play all the games okay. It’s just missing this button.
Cut to today, when I drove around Saskatoon trying to find a store that could sell me a replacement for this button that I could just, stick on, and go back to playing as if the airplane incident never happened. I went to EB Games, which I thought was my best bet. No luck. I went to the Sony Store. He said I was SOL and should try calling Sony and he gave me the number. I went to Toys’R’Us too and asked there, because I was buying my nephew a birthday present anyway. The guy sympathized but couldn’t help either.
So I call Sony. First of all I went through automated phone service HELL. Eventually I get a service guy. I explain to him my problem. I lost the little button that goes on the joystick of my PSP. How can I get a new one?
He asks me a bunch of questions, is anything broken off, is the PSP damaged, and so on. I answer no to everything. I just lost the little button on my PSP. Can I please have any another one?
He puts me on hold for a minute. When he comes back he tells me:
They can not send me a replacement for this little button. I would have to send the WHOLE unit in for service. They don’t have replacement buttons for people to buy. My PSP would have to be discarded, and I would be issued a full replacement unit. To do all of this would cost $79.95 plus GST for a grand total of $82.95.
$83 to replace the stupid button on my PSP. Oh, and he got the province that I live in wrong THREE damn times!!
The problem with this is, I don’t have deep pockets on that coat. When the plane took off, and banked up hard, all the stuff in my pockets fell out, including my phone and PSP. The PSP ended up three rows back and towards the aisle, so it made quite the trek just falling out of my pocket.
I mention all of this because, in falling out of my pocket and skidding across the plane, one of the little buttons on it fell off and was irretrievably lost. My PSP is fine, and I can play all the games okay. It’s just missing this button.
Cut to today, when I drove around Saskatoon trying to find a store that could sell me a replacement for this button that I could just, stick on, and go back to playing as if the airplane incident never happened. I went to EB Games, which I thought was my best bet. No luck. I went to the Sony Store. He said I was SOL and should try calling Sony and he gave me the number. I went to Toys’R’Us too and asked there, because I was buying my nephew a birthday present anyway. The guy sympathized but couldn’t help either.
So I call Sony. First of all I went through automated phone service HELL. Eventually I get a service guy. I explain to him my problem. I lost the little button that goes on the joystick of my PSP. How can I get a new one?
He asks me a bunch of questions, is anything broken off, is the PSP damaged, and so on. I answer no to everything. I just lost the little button on my PSP. Can I please have any another one?
He puts me on hold for a minute. When he comes back he tells me:
They can not send me a replacement for this little button. I would have to send the WHOLE unit in for service. They don’t have replacement buttons for people to buy. My PSP would have to be discarded, and I would be issued a full replacement unit. To do all of this would cost $79.95 plus GST for a grand total of $82.95.
$83 to replace the stupid button on my PSP. Oh, and he got the province that I live in wrong THREE damn times!!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Things That Piss Me Off
Why do windshield wipers have to come in 1500 different sizes/types/variations? What possible purpose does it serve to make me stand in front of a wall filled with windshield wiper replacement blades and have NO BLOODY CLUE which one I should buy?
I mean honestly, can't we pare this down a bit? Is it REALLY necessary to have them available in lengths from 12" to 28" with every possible increment in between? I swear I saw some that were at half inch increments. What purpose does this serve?
In 100+ years of automotive innovation, no one has thought to standardize the size of the damn windshield wipers? I find this bordering on farcical. I have a shredded windshield wiper. I would like to buy a replacement. Why do I have to study a book larger than the text for an introductory physics class to figure out which one I need?
And on that note, why can't they even standardize on one size for a particular model of vehicle? What the hell is this need to know the year of my vehicle too!?! Okay, I'm a jackass and didn't research this ahead of time. I have to consult the book. I try and look something up in this infernal, blasted thing and I have to know about 96 god damn configuration options for my vehicle, just to buy damn wipers. What the hell is this garbage!?!
I gave up. It was just too annoying. I'll sit down, do the doctoral thesis worth of research required to buy wiper blades, from home tonight. I'm sure this will require a computer, Google searches, and probably reference to an arcane auto parts site I'll find in a deep, dark corner of the internet, visited only by porn crawling bots and men of dubious morality.
Why do windshield wipers have to come in 1500 different sizes/types/variations? What possible purpose does it serve to make me stand in front of a wall filled with windshield wiper replacement blades and have NO BLOODY CLUE which one I should buy?
I mean honestly, can't we pare this down a bit? Is it REALLY necessary to have them available in lengths from 12" to 28" with every possible increment in between? I swear I saw some that were at half inch increments. What purpose does this serve?
In 100+ years of automotive innovation, no one has thought to standardize the size of the damn windshield wipers? I find this bordering on farcical. I have a shredded windshield wiper. I would like to buy a replacement. Why do I have to study a book larger than the text for an introductory physics class to figure out which one I need?
And on that note, why can't they even standardize on one size for a particular model of vehicle? What the hell is this need to know the year of my vehicle too!?! Okay, I'm a jackass and didn't research this ahead of time. I have to consult the book. I try and look something up in this infernal, blasted thing and I have to know about 96 god damn configuration options for my vehicle, just to buy damn wipers. What the hell is this garbage!?!
I gave up. It was just too annoying. I'll sit down, do the doctoral thesis worth of research required to buy wiper blades, from home tonight. I'm sure this will require a computer, Google searches, and probably reference to an arcane auto parts site I'll find in a deep, dark corner of the internet, visited only by porn crawling bots and men of dubious morality.