For the record . . .

I LOVE HIGH DEFINITION TV!!!



we now return you to your regularly scheduled blog

So, I am almost over my seething rage.

Guess what happened this morning? If you guessed, truck didn't start, give yourself a cookie. It is true, my stupid ass vehicle did not start, AGAIN!!! I am decidedly unhappy. And it wasn't, too cold to start, not start. It was the same, damnable, THERE APPEARS TO BE NO BATTERY start!!!

Okay, I guess I'm not over my seething rage yet. Thinking about it irritates me. I will attempt a coherent blog entry this afternoon, if I calm down.

P.S. Chevrolet sucks

Tonight I make a declaration.

By the time 365 days pass, on this planet we call Earth, I shall no longer believe myself to be a loser.

That is my pledge to myself, and the world.

When . . .

do I get . . .

to win?

This is the part about lip synching that I don't get.

Its your song. You sang it. Its your voice that's being played from the amplified sound equipment. Its not like you've never put the words to voice before. So then how the hell can you not be able to match up to your original song? This seems like a simple matter of vigilant practice. If you actually do your bloody job, and learn the stupid version of the song that you've committed to the backing track, then how can you not be able to lip sync it when you pretend to do it live?

Girls? Go back to the damn studio, and learn your flippin' song! You can all go get drunk, stoned, and turned inside out by whatever Neanderthal gorilla that has your panties in a twist, AFTER your put in the twenty god damn minutes a day it takes to make sure you can live up to your celebrity! The celebrity that got you into the club underaged. The fame that got you the narcotics for free, from the shady guy that seems to know everyone. And the mystique it took to convince a guy twice your age that it was worth the risk to bend you over the marble counter-top in the men's restroom for 5 minutes of sweaty, but meaningless visceral thrill.

Merry Christmas!!!

Note to my readership:

Don't get a hamburger from the gas station.

I know its tempting to abandon the natural skepticism about gas station food, with the proliferation of Subway's that are set up in small town Esso's. Plus the Esso here in Watson has a restaurant and while its not cuisine, it doesn't make you barf.

However, the Quick Stop is closed today. WTF!?!?! It was open at 9:00 AM but closed for lunch. I don't support that. So I was running around town finishing errands and still hadn't eaten. So against better judgement, I got a two pack of cheeseburgers from the Co-op fridge.

Big mistake!

Burger one was okay. But by burger two I could feel the recoil happening already. I suspect a purge will become involved before afternoon ends.

If you need me, I'll be the guy in the corner, dry heaving.

I must hate myself.

Its the day before Christmas. (I guess you could call it Christmas Eve, even though its not evening yet) We are 'officially' closed, but I'm here at my desk in the office. There's no one else here. The phone is not ringing. And yet, as the hours tick by, I find more and more stuff that I should do before going home.

If you need me, I'll be the guy in the corner, banging his head against the wall.

Has anyone seen my penis?

I stepped out of the truck last night, when I arrived back in Watson. I'd spent the first three days of this week in Manitoba. I get out and its -31 C, with a vicious, biting wind.

I got home and my penis was missing. Anyone heard any rumors on where it went? I might need it again so I'm fairly keen on finding it.

Its that time of year again! Everyone submit their entry, guessing the dollar total contained in the 2004 tip jar!!!

Tips!

The contest will remain open until Christmas Eve. There will be fun and prizes for correct guesses!

I would like to invite everyone to meet the newest member of my sister Candace's family

Eddie

I often consider this my private little piece of the world, where I can rant and vent, about the things that irritate me. Or it can go in the other way, and be the place I go when I need to bare my soul. That is where I am right now. There's something inside me that I want to say. I don't know if I have the words for it, but I need to try.

I'm never going to get this, am I? The part that is supposed to be the easiest, will forever elude me.

I'm tired of trying.

I hate that I can pour my entire mental capacity, my enormous tolerance for pain, and an unbelievable amount of willpower into understanding this, and it won't yield to me.

This is my nemesis, the enemy I can not vanquish. It is the monster in my closet. I can run, I can hide, or stay and fight. It makes little difference. I am never going to win this battle.

I'm angry and I'm sad, all in the same moment. I despair and I scream my futility, but the situation remains the same.

I can't touch it.

For whatever reason, I simply can not make that critical connection that will let me grow. I remain stunted, somewhat less of a man, and a lot more of a child. While endearing and sweet, it is not the visage that will bring me to my goal.

I could live with this, if the pain would go away. If I didn't care, for a reason that remains beyond my ability to fathom. If that one, infuriating emotion would just cease its torment of me, I think I could relax.

I could be happy.

It seems my lot to be taunted by the monster. To have the venomous beast slither into my mind when I'm feeling contentment and pride at an accomplishment. There it comes, striking me like a vindictive lizard. And in my pride, and my arrogance, I let myself believe that the vastness of my potential, will now, finally, give me the answer I have for so long pursued.

There will be no answer for me.

How do you quit? The impulse will not just cease, because you ask it to. I've tried that and it is complete futility. In that last moment, where you stand over the beast, blood and gore dripping from yourself, and everything around you. Put your foot on the thing's neck, and exult at your victory. Only to have it snatched away, when once more, the thump of life beats under your shoe.

I hate this place.

I don't want to be here. I'm not used to failing. If I just try hard enough, I win. I am embued with so much that there is no challenge I can't best.

Except this one.

I'm weary. The fight continues, and it robs me of everything that the rest of life builds up within. I can win so many battles, and be crushed by a single failure.

Because I care.

The answer is that there is no answer. We all must try, and fail, then learn from our mistakes. And I do that and it still won't bring me salvation. I fail, and again, and again. Why can't my mind comprehend this, analyze it, and provide new direction? Why must I not progress?

In the end have I said anything? No, I don't think so. It is, and it will be, until the question disappears.

I remain . . .

Day Two of the week before Christmas. Home from work at 10:00 again. I apologize but this is all I have in me for a blog entry.

Toodles!

Can someone please explain to me why I keep buying so much stuff!?!

I got myself an XBox last week. It seemed like a good idea at the time. What needs to be mentioned at this point is, right now all of the XBox stuff is still in the box that it was shipped in. I haven't opened a single thing from it.

This is so typical. I buy stuff and then it just sits. I have no idea how many computer games I've purchased and either not played at all, or barely played. Let's do the list:

Rise Of Nations
Battlefield: Vietnam
Simcity 4
Star Wars: Knights Of The Old Republic

Now how about other computer related stuff:

Logitech racing wheel (third one I've owned)
Logitech flight stick (yup, still in the box)
LCD monitor (currently collecting dust in my office/closet
The Ripper (why did I think I needed a tower computer with no purpose beyond copying DVD's?)

At this point I would like to solicit some advice on how to not spend my money so foolishly. Can anyone suggest some strategies that might keep my money in my pocket more often?

Thank you and good night

Blog Cryptogram Of The Day

Ich veux Khan

The way I feel at this moment in time is exactly why I hate being here on a Sunday night.

Blog Question Of The Day:

Is blogging a weekday activity, for the majority of bloggers?

I was watching 'Josie and the Pussycats' yesterday, as I drove into Regina. As I did so, an interesting question came into my mind. Now I was driving at the time, so my ability to remember the thought was limited. I have yet to figure out a way, that I like and will use on a continual basis, to record my thoughts as I drive.

(Yes, I've thought of, and had suggested to me, the idea of a voice recorder. I think I sound like a tool whem my voice is recorded, so I have thus far resisted that idea)

Now I am watching 'Chasing Amy'. (thanks Sean!) An infinitely better movie, in my opinion, that yesterday's Josie. However, there is a discussion of Archie comics in 'Chasing Amy' and this has reminded me of last night's question.

Why did they make a 'Josie and the Pussycats' movie, instead of an Archie movie? Considering the creative bankrupcy that seems to exist in Hollywood in the last 10 years or so, is it not odd that no one has put an Archie movie on the screen yet?

Why isn't the enthusiasm of wanting something badly, enough to insure that you will eventually get it?

G&M Word Of The Day:

confidence

Blog Survey Of The Day:

MiniDV tapes for my camcorder cost approximately $7.00 a tape.
A full tape transferred to the computer requires approximately 20GB of storage.

Should I use the tapes for long term storage, instead of trying to save all the raw footage on hard drives?

Does anyone use the F11 key!?!

A Friday summary:

I love $100,000 purchase orders.

This headache of mine can take the next bus outta town. I've had enough of its company.

I'm the last person to be chiding other about 'getting excited' but I think there are some people in Manitoba that ought to chill out pretty soon. It'll get fixed, and the world won't end if that takes me a week or two.

And to close . . .

LET THE GAMING COMMENCE!!!!!

I'm watching Daredevil tonight. As I watch, an interesting question has come to my mind. Isn't it kind of a cruel irony that someone who is blind, and can't enjoy the vision of a beautiful woman, might end up with one and never know the exquisite joy of seeing her smile?

G&M (minus M) Word Of The Day:

imbroglio

Blog Question Of The Day:

How deep does a cut need to be, before you require stitches?

Ummmmm God? A word?

God? Yeah, hi. Worshipper Guenther here. Gotta question for ya. Is today indicative of the after-life I can expect in heaven? If so, could I please go to hell?

Alright, I get it. I had the plague coming. You're right, I screwed up, and I deserved that one.

The locusts? A touch much, don't you think? Sure, I kinda punted that one, and I did have something coming, but couldn't the plague have covered both transgressions?

But to top THAT, do we really have to do this insomnia gaffe again? I can't see how I've ever done anything to deserve that. You know how much pain this brings me. Couldn't we have done without that little penalty?

And then you top it off with the events of my Tuesday. That pace you gave me, starting at 6:00 AM and not abating, even a little bit, until 10:30 in the evening. At what point do I get to stop calling you the merciful creator?

And THEN!!! You top off a truly excremental day, with a steaming, stinky, absolutely vile bowl of SHIT! Not poo, or poop, or crap, or excrement. Shit, in its purest, brownest, most complete form. And you roll that in together with some absolutely infuriating plumbing, and an unabating flow of water until I'm bloody near swimming in this putrid, fetid stinking POND that was once my bathroom.

When LORD!?! When the FUCK can your servent, ditch this foul set of circumstances and finally get to know some peace? When Lord when!?! When's gonna be my time!?!?!?!?!

If you need me, I'll be in the shower, trying to wash out the smell.

Six AM songs (that sounded like a good idea at the time)

Ciara - 1, 2 Step
Destiny's Child - Lose My Breath

What the hell is wrong with people? What I am speaking of today is, the behaviour of people on the street. This absolutely baffles me, while simultaneously driving me to a point where I could explode in a fire of furious rage.

There's a traffic disruption on Circle Drive this afternoon. The cops have blocked off one lane. You can tell there's something wrong, because there's 50 cars lined up in the left lane, and the right lane is open. But do the idiots steaming along take the 1/2 second it takes to make the observation that there's a REASON why this is the way it is? OH HELL NO!!! They figure they're the second coming of Irving Genius, and they'll just hope in the right lane and get ahead in the world.

WRONG!!!

All they prove is, they're idiots. They steam past everyone, get to the cop car, and become stymied in that place. Now by rights they should stay there until the traffic disturbance is cleared but sadly the cop has to wave the idiot in, and they are rewarded for their stupidity.

Why can't these people be hunted for sport?

Its kinda weird to watch a special about Metallica, and have the lead singer look like a guy you might go to talk to about your mortgage, but god damn do these guys still ROCK!!!!

METALLICA RULES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have a problem with a situation that has someone phoning me, asking for the diameter of a hole, when his comments to me include, 'I see that the radius is 19 mm'

I have to make a declaration at this point.

Major thanks have to be given to Mr. Kevin Hills, for addition of a hit counter on my blog. I'd had the idea before, to include one, but all my investigations led me towards something that would cost me money. I don't really like buying from the internet. I avoid it whenever possible. This is another one of these situations.

However last night we were discussing my blog, and how many people we think read it. He suggested a hit counter. I told him I'd use one, if he found it for me. So he did.

Now I have a counter. Holy Crap am I getting more hits than I thought! Its been up for about 18 hours now, and at last count, I had 31 hits. I didn't expect to hit double digits until after the weekend.

Thanks to everyone for reading my oft-times warped thoughts. And a HUGE thank you to Kevin, for bringing a lot of value to my site.

Toodles!!

One of the worst things about being in Loserville is, there are so few permanent residents. You live right along the highway of life. Things go by on the highway. Both good and bad. The occasional person stops as they drive through on their way somewhere. You might get the odd person coming into town. Metaphorically speaking, stopping for a Pepsi and a piss in your hovel-like little abode on the side of life’s freeway. But the necessities of life taken care of, they get back in their Porsche, and press the pedal to the floor, speeding away from you, and your pathetic existence in Loserville.

To put it in more vivid terms:

I’m the bloody Chamberlain of relationships.

The Bitterness Poem
by Grant

Here I sit,
alone at my desk.
A loser again,
in every respect.

Let's be honest. Who actually LIKES the band R.E.M.!!!?!!!

Okay, who's with me on this one!?!

There's this Christmas commercial now on TV from Roger's Wireless. Its the one where the guy is trekking through a forest of fir trees, looking for the perfect Christmas tree. He has his camera phone with him, and he's sending back pictures of trees to his 'woman' who's sitting on the couch at home, warm, dry and comfortable.

Who thought this commercial was a good idea!?!?!?!?!?!

I'm watching this, and I just wanna cuff the damn bitch. She's sitting at home while this hapless bastard has to trudge through the snow and cold, looking for a damn tree. And every tree he finds, she's got some problem with. But to go with it, she's not providing any concrete suggestions for what else to look for. She just answers with standard responses that the guy out freezing in the forest is supposed to interpret!!

What a god damn stupid commercial. I bloody hate it!!

Who's with me? Kill the bitch on the couch or make them stop playing the commercial!!!

http://entertainment.msn.com/movies/hotgossipb3

The flash from a photographer's camera has illuminated a shine on Lindsay Lohan's head that looks like the symbol from Star Trek.

Welcome to Loserville.

Population = me

Muppet News Flash!!!

http://www.canadianconsultingengineer.com/article.asp?id=37328

I built the membrane plant for both the Associated/Yellow Quill, and Bullee/Maple Creek project. Where's my cookie!?!?!

Good Ideas from Bad Technicians

If you are given the chance, here are my suggestions for software to select, for your new DVD burner.

DO get ICopyDVDs2.

do NOT get DVDXCopy Express

DO get Sonic MyDVD

do NOT get B.H.A. including B's Clips.

I hate that stupid B.H.A. crap. I'm trying to do something really basic. All I wanna do is write to my newly purchased DVD+RW discs. I install the packet writing software that came with the drive awhile ago, but never tried the facility. I had the Sonic software at work, and I use the packet writing daily, for my engineering files. Its awesome. No muss, no fuss, its just works. Now I screw around with this B.H.A. software and it wants to give me a rash. SCREW THAT!!! I've bought 3 DVD burners, at least one of them must have the Sonic software. Found one, installed, rebooting and Voila! Its works like a charm.

So, to recap:

DO get ICopyDVDs2.

do NOT get DVDXCopy Express

DO get Sonic MyDVD

do NOT get B.H.A. including B's Clips.

Blog Question Of The Day

Why is the symbol for Canadian Tire reminiscient of a Yield sign?

Am I the only one that notices the irony in the move, The Rundown, that stars Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson?

'The Rock' plays Beck, a man indentured to a rather smarmy boss. This boss tasks Beck with a variety of unpleasant jobs, and one's that Beck has a moral or personal reason to not want to complete. And underlining all of these assignments is the carrot that, if he just does 'one more job' then he'll be free. So Beck takes every assignment, hoping that it can be the last, and he can pursue his true passion.

And what is the assignment that makes up the bulk of the plot in 'The Rundown'? Beck heads to the jungles of Brazil, to rescue the bosses son. What is the scenario that Beck finds in Brazil? A cruel, heartless boss figure is taking advantage of an indigent population. Paying them meagre salaries, while charging them fees to complete the work. The basic premise being, Beck must rescue this natives from the heartless ruler, who makes his wealth off the back of the disenfranchised.

Vince McMahon is listed as an 'Executive Producer' on The Rundown. Is it just me or are the parallels not vivid and striking?

I wanna be a super-hero!




I shall call myself . . . FATMAN!!!!!

Note to self: Don't go back to your computer to chat online with your friends, when you have something in the oven that you only intend to 'brown'.

What the hell is wrong with Hotmail!?!

I have my main, MSN - Hotmail, account that I use consistently. I'm on the road a lot, and logging in from different places, so its the account I use, to keep current, on all the issues that are going on in my world. If I'm away, all my friends and family now to copy that account, so I will get their message.

I use that Hotmail account a lot. There's usually at least a couple important emails in there, everyday. On that account I am still at the measly 2 MB of storage.

I have a second Hotmail account that I created. My main one 'disappeared' one day, and I was in a panic about having lost my significant 'online' presence. I log into the account daily, just to keep it current. They bumped up my limit on that account to 250 MB.

I can't switch, because my Hotmail address is now a significant identity representation of me. But they didn't give me the free, storage upgrade. Can I chalk this up to more Microsoft idiocy, and call them butt-munches again!?!

I need a no BS assessment of the following situation.

Is it gay that I like the movie 'A Walk To Remember'?

I need someone to explain something to me.

Didn't we go through this long, arduous, heart wringing session about a North American Free Trade Agreement about 15 years ago? Wasn't the whole point of the agreement, and the vicious lobbying on both sides of it, to arrive at an contract about who could assign fees, and to what commodity? The ultimate goal of the project being, a transaction that was province to province, or state to state, was to be the same as one that crossed the international border between Canada and the United States?

So what the HELL is the deal with the US imposing duties on things, such as softwood lumber? And why do we have to entertain the notion of countervailing trade penalties, to other US commodities, as retaliation? Wasn't the damn deal that was so fracturous when it was negotiated, supposed to prevent this exact thing from happening?

I boils down to this. The Americans are wrong. They've been told they are wrong, on numerous occasions, every time this has reached a global tribunal. What's the point of negotiating things with the Americans, if they have no interest in living up to the agreement when it doesn't cut their way?

Can someone please help me? I have grown weary of the pounding torture I am inflicting upon myself. If anyone has some thoughts on how to cease my infuriating desire to deliver pain onto myself, I would thank you for the mercy.

That is all.

I just had an interesting thought.

What would happen if, the next time the Americans went to the polls, it was Condoleeza Rice for the Republicans and Hillary Clinton for the Democrats? Would the entire country self destruct with no old, white man on the ballot?

Tonight's Grey Cup game served to prove that there is justice in the universe. The B.C. Lions were not able to use their 'free ride' to the grey Cup, to claim the championship. Nor was last week's hero, Duncan O'Mahony, able to perform under pressure. Let it be noted that he missed a kick of similar distance to Paul McCallum's, and arguably an easier one, as he was lined up straight at the goal posts.

In summation:

WAY TO GO ARGOS!!!!!

You see, this is why I have such an undying hatred for drunk people.

Concert tonight at Sask. Place (I know, I know, I'll get used to Credit Union Centre eventually). The Tragically Hip were tonight's band de la nuit. Something of an older favorite, as The Hip's popularity seems to have faded into the memory of the people my age. Still a big name in Canadian musical circles, but they just don't have the street cred with the yungin's. And lets face it, its the chillin's that set the bar for what's hot, and what's not.

But I digress . . .

The point I was getting to is, The Tragically Hip are a band for older people. And by older I mean, 30+. We remember who the Hip are, and were, and it makes us nostalgic for our youth. We shell out the bucks to attend their concert. And, as we're now into our 4th decade on the planet, we have a lot of the, mad-fat-cash, that we didn't have in our teen years. This opens up the facility to spend a lot of it on alcohol.

(I promise, we'll get to the drunk people part yet)

The concert was not exceptionally busy. Not that I really expected it to blow me away. It was a given as we began, that the show was not sold out. (on a completely unrelated note, I kinda wish I'd been in the audience. The Hip are a favorite of mine, even if they have faded into insignificance) Estimates were between 5,000 and 6,000. We were well staffed to handle the request for libations.

Now, the Hip come on, and the bars close. This is standard operating procedure. The concourse goes black, and all the food and beverage services shut down for the evening. This darkness is important to note. Everything closes, all the people go away, and I find myself alone at the bar.

(I have to digress again, for another comment that is not salient to my main goal with this post. Are the security staff at Credit Union Center not the most useless bags of snot that ever existed? When you don't need them, they are right there, to enforce a bar closing that some idiot in security just pulled out of his ass. But when the bar management decides they wanna close up shop, the dumb security bastards are a easy to find as a gay lobbyist at George W. Bush's inauguration)

Back to my story . . .

Its pitch black. (remember how I said this was important) I've even gone to the trouble of taking out the flourescent light in the fridge. There's not a soul around on the concourse. I am paying NO attention to the floor, or any possible other people. And they STILL stand at the bar, wait for me to turn around, and want to know if they can have a beer.

Does alcohol make you THAT stupid? This happens every time. The bars close, and there are still idiots roaming the deserted concourse, looking for a way to inebriate themselves. Go watch the damn show! Its the reason you paid all that money to be here. If you just wanted to drink beer, the price of your ticket would have probably bought at least four dozen beer at the liqour store. Not withstanding is the vast number of $5 bills you probably lost to my fellow bar staff, as they served you drinks at the new, and easily divisble, total.

Am I not righteous in my indignation?

The only problem with vegetables in your sandwich is, they tend to make it a lot more slippery, and prone to falling apart.

By the way, I knew Casey Printers would win CFL Most Outstanding Player.

Blog Question Of The Day:

Should I transplant the parts from the 'Blue Furnace' into the leftover computer case I have (shell from the Linux box that had an exploding power supply) to see if that eliminates the heat problems I had with that unit from day one?

Hopefully most of you will be watching the Grey Cup on CBC, when they kick the ball off Sunday afternoon. Those of you that do will probably notice the preponderance of Subway commercials. During the division finals, it seemed like every second commercial was for the barbeque steak and monterey cheese sub.

Word to the wise, it is NOT as good as it looks in the commercial.

I ordered one today. Point A - it is not sliced pieces of beef, like it appears in the commercial. It is the usual ice cream scoop of processed beef. Nor is the cheese as vibrant as in the commercial. And finally, the advertised toasting is not NEARLY worthy of that many commercials. Frankly, my sub didn't feel toasted so much as it seemed to have dried the outer shell, leaving the usual damp moistness to the bun.

Bottom line? Subway is good, but don't go out of your way for any of their new offerings.

That's all for me. I'm out.

Watching the Riders is a lot like getting a lap dance. You see a whole lot of action, get really excited, but you never score.

If we can't laugh at homosexuals, what good are they?

Blog Question Of The Day:

Would my autobiography be an interesting book to read?

You'd think I'd be able to relax now.

I completed my goal for the week. Two projects closing their tender this week. I have, at least preliminarily, secured both projects. Approximate total sales, $300,000.

So why hasn't my headache gone away? I really wanted (and to a certain degree needed) these two projects. They've been keeping me awake, with tension and nervousness for about a week.

Now I have them. So why am I not relaxing? I'm still tense. I still have a headache, and I can still feel the burn in my chest from the ulcer. What the hell is going on?

Maybe, as it was so eloquently put by a friend, I just need to 'get a piece'. . .




I'll console myself with the money.

Toodles!!!

Blog Question Of The Day:

Would a shot for shot remake of 'The Breakfast Club' keep its relevance in contemporary society, or would it seem dated and odd?

Until tomorrow at 2:00, if you need me, I'll be on the phone.

I am listening to MP3's, the same as I do every workday. However, as I listen, I had a thought.

Do you think any of these girls are gonna regret the public image they are currently putting out there for the world? I know that time tends to add a wistful sheen to the indescretions of the past. Some things don't heal though. Tattoo's are forever (or at least the removal scar will be). Sixteen different piercings? Undisciplined romps through the totality of eligible (and not so much, in Britney's case) of celebrity men.

I konw its a double standard. Men should be held to similar standards of behaviour. Maybe its just media coverage, but our young, former ingenue, female stars seem to have all gotten the same unbridled disease. They are poking holes in unmentionable body parts, stealing husbands/fathers, buying stupid expensive items, starting verbal wars with people they don't even know in any way other than as a name in a celebrity journal. And they all have tattoo's. (I think its sexy at 20 but what about at 60?

Someday they're gonna be mom's. For every cool mom, like a Pamela Anderson, there's going to be a thousand others that will live a life of driving their child to soccer, attending parent-teacher interviews, and buying groceries at Safeway. Do you really wanna live this hard, and wild, when the light of celebrity will inevitably fade?

Just a thought.

I hate the Riders.

Destiny Child didn't waste a bunch of money on lyrics for their new single 'Lose My Breath'

I made note of something this evening.

We have gin available, for that very rare bird that wants it. That doesn't happen very often. Nonetheless we have some at our bar (or what passes for a bar in a sports arena) The common reference to it is to call it 'liquid panty remover'.

The particular brand of 'liquid panty remover' we have right now is Beefeater. Is this just a coincidence?

Interesting . . .

New from the world of wacky coincidences:

My credit card balance right now is exactly, $999.99.

My fish died today.

His water was looking a little murky. It has for awhile actually, but I picked Friday as the day to clean his bowl. I did all the same stuff as always. Got a bowl. Filled it with permeate water. I used the room temperature tap, so he wasn't getting shocked. Filled as high as I could, then put him in. He was agitated as always, when I took him out of his bowl, but he swam around excitedly once in the temporary bowl. I started the process of cleaning his real home.

About halfway through the bowl cleansing, I took a look at my fish again. He wasn't moving. At all. I nudge the bowl, to get him to wave his fins. Nothing. He was completely dead, without possibility of revival.

I am now sad. I liked my fish. It was fun to watch him swim around in his bowl, on my desk. I could tap the glass and watch him swim when the vibrations stirred his water. He'd come to the front of the tank, and watch me for awhile. It always made me smile.

I know, its just a fish. I do, however, feel a faint urge to cry. I probably won't, but that swollen feeling that you get around your eyes, just before you start crying, is tinging my consciousness as I write this.

I don't know what I did wrong. I must have done something, because he died only after I moved him from his home. Was it the bowl? Was it moving him? (but he survived the move before) Was it the water? (I used 'pure' water, the same as always) I just don't know. I am a fish killer. I don't like knowing that.

Thoughts?

How am I supposed to take a spam message seriously when they can't even get the spelling right on a word as simple as 'grand'?

Take a look at the GROSSEST thing EVER!!!

Gross!!!

Somebody needs to explain this to me, right away. I'm about to blow an O-ring here with irritation.

I have a little package of M&M's that I want to eat. This is one of those snack-sized M&M packages that come out around Halloween, for inclusion in children's candy hordes.

How the hell is a kid supposed to get into these? The package is sealed better than Fort Knox!!! I'm going insane trying to pull it apart, and I can't do it. And I'm a full grown adult! How's a kid supposed to get this open?

That's it! Where's the ginsu!?!

Blog Question Of The Day:

It is my intention to buy a deep freeze in the near future. (1-2 weeks) How large of a unit should I purchase?

Today is the perfect example of why I am against the use of virus protection software. If you give someone a program, and tell them that it will prevent viruses from getting onto their computer, they assume that its infallible.

Viruses, and virus protection programs, are all created by humans. For every virus written by a human, another human must write the code to block it. Despite the euphemistic term we've stolen, to describe the situation, what we have here is software written by people, for people, and abused by people. Your computer is not sentient. It does not know a good program from a bad one. As well, the software you buy to protect yourself is not sentient. It can not tell a good program from a virus. You, or someone who wrote it for you, is giving the software rules for allowing, or disallowing the execution of a program. The virus program does not know right from wrong, good from evil. It only knows the rules you've given it. Thus it is as completely under your control as a game, a spreadsheet, or a word processor.

This happens all the time. People get viruses and without fail they say, but I have a virus blocker!?! And it with that plaintive cry of the righteous victim. Yes, you got a virus. Yes, you got a virus despite having an anti-virus program. I can almost guarantee it will happen again, if you don't learn from this experience of getting a virus on your computer. Bottom line is, YOU control your computer. It does not control itself. If you want to prevent getting viruses, don't do stupid things. Don't open weird attachments in your email. Don't assume every joke that is sent your way, is safe. Don't click pop-ups on your desktop. Dont, DON'T, DON't!!! assume you are safe because you have anti-virus software.

The most effective, and easy method of preventing the spread of computer viruses, or becoming infected yourself is by, NOT BEING A STUPID PERSON!!!!!

Do you think the SaskTel mail server admin gets mad when I bang the Send/Recieve button about 50 times in a row?

In honor of today's win by the Riders I am having a mug of green Kool-Aid. Who's with me?

Grant's blog has taken Friday off due to an abundance of irritation.

Check back later to see if he's over it.

I think I've figured out why babies are so irritating.

I was sitting in Pizza Hut this afternoon, waiting for my P'zone for lunch. Getting one was my brilliant idea that I came up with, as I was on my way to Subway. That's not part of the story. I'm waiting in the Pizza Hut and this baby is just WAILING, like someone was beating it like a screen door. The worst, more incisive howl you'll ever hear.

Then I had an epiphany.

Babies are irritating because they just make noise. When a baby screams like that, they don't say anything useful. You can't glean a distinguishable cause of the crying. They just bawl. It is possible to figure out what is making them cry, if you analyze the surroundings, or witness the babies actions. But I, sitting around the wall and down a hall from this screeching bag of flesh, had no ability to discern the reason, and therefore remedy the problem. And I dearly wanted to, because the noise was giving me a severe pain. Throttling the child was given serious consideration.

So where does that leave us? I think we have to outlaw babies in public. If kept in a closed, well supervised area, babies are less likely to meet incidental hazards. Less hazards means a reduced potential for causing howls. And less howling bags of flesh will improve the quality of life for all of us that know how to speak a civilized tongue.

Who is with me on banning babies in public? Show of hands?

Grant's Rule Of Trade Show Behaviour:

The level of interest in the exhibits is directly proportional to the price of beer.

Greetings from Saskatoon!

Its been a weird day. Got up and went to work this morning, the same as usual. Got there and all hell broke loose.

Turns out I was going to a trade show. Pony up all the horses to get into Saskatoon for that.

Now everyone is interested in making Cowessess start before the end of next week. I hear nothing from no one for a month, now I'm supposed to be done. Whatever.

Tim pulled together a huge amount of info about the system in Ste. Rose Du Lac and wanted my time to talk about it. I did the best I could for him, but I was under the crunch for this trade show thing.

I had calls from the previous day to sort out, involving billing and repair work. That had to be summarized and presented to someone to phone about today.

Once the Cowessess ball was put into play, everyone needed to talk to me, about how it was all going to fit together. Meanwhile I'm being prodded to hurry up and go to Saskatoon for the trade show set up.

Finally I said screw it, and just left. As I drove I thought of more things that I was leaving unfinished, so as soon as I had cell coverage (thanks for the dead spots SaskTel) I made some calls to get other things arranged, in my absence.

Whew! I'm tired just typing it all. The show wraps up at 12:00 tomorrow, so with a little luck, I can be back in my seat of power before the end of the day. All to get more things accomplished.

If you need me, I'll be the guy getting oxygen at the end of the bench.

The more elections we have, and the more times we go to the electorate for direction on the future course of humanity, the more it becomes achingly clear that the average citizen is ill-equipped to make such an important decision.

We have tests, trials, and various other methods of determining if someone is skilled enough to handle a job. Why then is the American presidency little more than a popularity contest?

There needs to be some measure of competency before allowing someone to be president.

Someone wake me before Armageddon starts . . .

Blog Recommendation Of The Day:

I am giving a hearty thumbs up to Subway's new, Chicken Bacon Ranch sandwich. It's a little more money than some other selections, but its sure tasty. Go out and get one yourself! (especially Melt girls)

Saturday October 30, 2004
B.C. Place - Vancouver

B.C. Lions 40 Saskatchewan Roughriders 38

Geroy Simon catches 13 yard pass, for a touchdown with 00:00 on the clock.

I hate the Riders.

I'm not a huge fan of this phone my parents have down here in the den. It has a red light on it, that flashes when its logged a call that hasn't been acknowledged. The damn thing reminds me of my office phone, that also blinks a red light when I have a message. I sit here and I'm constantly looking to the phone, thinking I need to check my voice mail.

I am firmly of the opinion that, you shouldn't be allowed to release a, greatest hits, album until you're dead. It is only with a death certificate that we can be reasonably sure (Tupac Shakur exempted of course, that guy won't go away) that you won't present any news hits.

Who's with me?

At the end of the day, you HAVE to respect a band that can make your clothing vibrate when you're standing still BEHIND the stage.

Red Sox win!

Red Sox win!! Red Sox win!!

Red Sox win!! Red Sox win!!! Red Sox win!!!

World Series - Game Four
Bottom of the 5th Inning
Mabry at the plate

That was a bad call.

Why does Tim McCarver have to make so many asinine comments during the course of a baseball game? His contribution by way of 'analysis' is often, 'he needs to throw a strike here' when the pitcher has the bases loaded and a 3-0 count on the hitter. We know that you idiot! Say something insightful, when you have some insight. Don't make a comment just to fill empty air.

G & M Word(s) Of The Day:

cracker
ass-bag

Blog Question Of The Day:

Has anyone heard from Sean this week? It is out of character for him to go so completely under the radar. If you've heard from him, or are him, please pass along to me.

Thanks!

Is it odd to crave scrambled eggs at 11:00 in the evening?

Show of hands . . .

Who remembers shrinking Old Dutch chip bags in the oven?

Tonight, as I sit here in my living room, watched the Red Sox beat the Cardinals, I find myself contemplating my purpose on this planet. I have a job, but is that who I am? I have a family, is that what defines me? I have friends, but can they put that magical 'it' into the place that seems hollow?

I want something. I can't describe what it is. Its an emotion; a feeling. I know its there, and its absence pains me. But how do I acquire something, when I can't understand it well enough to ask someone for it?

I think I've found a place where I can get it. But its not so easy as just saving the money, and going to the store. It has to be earned. And therein lies the fatal flaw in this experiment they call life. I seem unequipped to cultivate the last remaining piece to the puzzle that is me.

Changes.

Grant's Rant - October 25, 2004

I go to Future Shop in September to get an air conditioner that is at a good price. $320 for a 10,000 BTU unit. That's better than the $500 I've seen elsewhere. They don't have any in the store. They will have to order one in. Would I like to make payment to confirm the order? Yes, I want the no-interest, no payment, plan that is available with a Future Shop Credit account. Done and done! I go home to await my A/C unit.

Its now the end of October. No A/C unit. However, Future Shop Credit sends me a statement. We'd like you to make a payment on your air conditioner purchase Mr. Guenther.

WHOA!!!

I call Future Shop credit. Hi, I'd like to know what the deal is about asking me for a payment on my account when you haven't actually shipped the unit in question.

Their response?

I'm sorry sir, this is Future Shop Credit. We just take your money. We have no interest in delivering your product. Pay us or go talk to your Future Shop store.

Future Shop = GAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Blog Joke Of The Day:
(as provided by M. Bodman)

I'm tired because I'm overworked!

Here's why:
The population of Canada is 30 million. 11 million are retired, that leaves 19 million to do the work.

There are 5.5 million in school, which leaves 13.5 million to do the work. Of this there are 3 million employed by the federal government, leaving 10.5 million to do the work.

1 million are in the armed forces preoccupied with killing terrorists, which leaves 9.5 million to do the work.

Take from that total the 7 million people who work for Provincial and city Governments, and that leaves 2.5 million to do the work.

At any given time there are 476,000 people in hospitals, leaving 2,024,000 to do the work.

Now, there are 1,211,998 people in prisons and 812,000 on Employment Insurance and Welfare. That leaves just two people to do the work.

You and me.

And there you are sitting on your ass, at your computer, reading jokes. Nice. Real nice.

I had a thought this evening, as I was making up my bed again. I am not sure why I came to this conclusion, at the time that I did, but I continued to think about it, as I finished my housebold chores.

What if monogamy is a male concept?

This suggestion would seem to be counter-intuitive. Men are the dogs that want to be out in the world, screwing anything that moves and instinctually 'spreading their seed'. This seems to be a commonly believed, and held to be true, concept. No one ever challenges it. But is it really a fair assumption?

Are women monogamous by design or by circumstance?

Have you ever noticed that most women want, and almost need, lots of friends. They aren't happy unless there are a wide variety of people that like them, and look out for their well-being. It seems far more important, for women, to be thought of as 'nice' or a 'desirable person'. They don't all pursue this goal the same way. Some mistakenly think they can accomplish this by sleeping around. Regardless of the means, the goal is still the same. She wants to be liked.

The common preconception is, a man does not want to commit. The cliche scenario is a woman complaining to her friends (notice the plural) that her current man just won't commit to her. It is thought that the inability to commit is just a male trait. Has anyone studied this? Is it not more likely that the man is just being cautious. Commitment is a big deal. Might it not be a more reasonable assumption to believe that, men do not commit easily, but remain resolute through more adversity?

I'm not suggesting that either gender less morally sound. It is just an observation that I made. The comparison is, women need lots of friends, and men seem only to need enough for a poker game. Which pattern of behaviour seems more monogamous.

Food for thought.

Update on Yesterday's Bet:

He did not go snowmobiling, although he would have, had his machines been snow-worthy. He did ride his quad though, I couldn't that 50%.

Only one person was willing to bet. That was my Mom. I owe you $5, and you owe me $5, since it was a split. How about we shake hands and write off the debts?

I have in my possession one crisp, legal tender, ten dollar bill that I am willing to bet against anyone that wants to contest my theory that my boss took today off so he could go snowmobiling.

Any takers?

Not that I'm complaining (which I'm certainly not because I must confess that growing up she was one of my teenage crushes) but when did the powers that be decide Christina Applegate was due for a comeback, and should appear in so many high profile movies!?!

Does the following situation seem like one that should be cause for concern?

I was lying on the weight bench today at lunch. I was pausing between repetitions on bench presses. As I lay there I looked up into the pattern of the stipple, in my textured ceiling. As I looked up, I came to see a pattern in the randomness. I thought I saw what I could have sworn was an evil clown. It was grinning devilishly, and had a cruel gleam in its eye, beneath the conical hat it wore.

Snow

A Haiku poem by Grant

I really hate snow
Its cold and gets slippery
Please go away snow