Thursday, 29 December 2011
A while ago I watched and reviewed Shutter Island. I thought it was an okay movie with a twist that was partially ruined by reviews I’d listened to beforehand. I’m watching it again this morning (legitimately through Netflix) and I have to say it is really worth a second viewing. Knowing the twist gives you a whole other appreciation for characters’ actions and expressions throughout the film.
If you’ve seen it and were unimpressed, I’d say see it again.
If you haven’t seen it, I’d say watch it a couple times.
When I bought my truck this year, I made some compromises. The big one was going without 4 wheel drive. I had traction control, I had a limited-slip rear diff, and I hoped that would be enough. The first winter storm a couple weeks back had me very disappointed. Didn’t take much at all to get wheel spin. Yah, I’d have to get some winter tires at the very least.
But I was much more impressed once I got to Ottawa. The traction and skid control is actually quite impressive. Yah, I could get the back end out if I wanted to but if I took my time I could keep everything under control. We had an even bigger test when we got back to Kitchener. We were driving back from Orangeville and the rain had turned to snow and ice. We saw a couple closed roads. And the truck did a decent job. Not great but decent.
The CeRVix, with its all-wheel drive and winter tires, always gave me the feel of unstoppable power in the winters. I laughed at those people delicately tip-toeing their way along the highways as I zoomed past them in the tiger clawed CeRVix. Now I find myself one of those tip-toers.
Ah well, some winter tires and some weight in the back should do wonders.
I debated whether I was going to write about this little episode. It’s a topic not many people (other than my sister) like to discuss. But it’s a part of life and hopefully others can look beyond the baser points and see the humour in it.
So, it was a pleasant Christmas Eve night. My parents, Jen, and I were relaxing after dinner with a couple rounds of euchre. I excused myself after one of the hands to go relieve myself. And it was here, after lifting the toilet seat, that I came face to face with the largest turd I’ve seen outside of the African Lion Safari.
What to do? What to do? My own need to relieve myself seemed secondary at that moment. First instinct? Run away. Put the lid back down, pretend I didn’t see it, go use the bathroom in my parents’ room, and get back to euchre.
But I quickly started thinking of how this could ultimately play out. Worst case scenario, my mom goes into the bathroom, finds this monstrosity, screams, blacks out at the sight of it, and hits her head on the counter. Even if she makes a full recovery she would always suspect that I had done this horrible thing.
And then I start wondering, who really was to blame? There were only 4 people in the house and one cat. I can rule the cat out just because I’m intimately familiar with his regular output into the kitty litter. As for the humans, I know it wasn’t me. And it’s inconceivable my wee mom could fabricate such a freakishly large fecality. So that leaves Jen or my dad.
So it was my dad, right? Right. Had to be. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Yup. My dad did it.
But what if it wasn’t him?
Oh my god. My mind reeled. What if it wasn’t?!?
What if my delicate flower was actually some teamster with pretty hair that, by the evidence in front of me, had consumed a 30 pound roast this morning for breakfast?
Running was no longer an option. Even if there was a slight possibility that my girlfriend had perpetrated this affront to nature, I had to take care of it before anyone else found out.
So, I attempted a flush.
Fuck. Where’s the plunger?
Fuck. It has to be in my parents’ bathroom. Out I go and grab the plunger and return for a second attempt.
And a third attempt.
And a fourth.
Sweet Jesus, it was the unflushable shit sent from beyond! But I persevered and I beat that motherfucker! As the last of that unholy creation swirled down the tubes, it was all I could do not to cry out in triumph.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and I did my best to clean up and fix a calm demeanour to my face. I had been gone far too long for a quick pit stop and I’m sure my battle with the beast had created noises that couldn’t have gone unnoticed. But back I went. I made eye contact with nobody. At that point, I didn’t want the truth. After what I’d been through, the last thing I needed was to look into my love’s face and see an unspoken apology in her eyes.
We finished the game and eventually retired for the night. It was then that I finally asked Jen if she had anything to confess. To my utter relief she disavowed all knowledge of the source of my evening’s nemesis.
So that was that. I slept easily that night. Tired from the fight but comforted that I wouldn’t have to spend my life in fear of walking into the bathroom after Jen.
Saturday, 24 December 2011
Holy crap have I been a slacker in keeping the blog up to date. All of a sudden it’s friggin Christmas Eve! Just a quick recap since my last post:
- Spent 2 grand on my cat to have most of his teeth ripped out (this is not the same cat that I spent $1500 on to have half his teeth ripped out 4 years ago)
- Wanted to punch the vet dentist for padding the bill with a couple extra tooth extractions we hadn’t really discussed.
- Wanted to punch Dalton McGuinty for the lovely HST total on that vet bill.
- Wanted to punch every person who noted how much cheaper a bullet would have been than that vet bill. Fuck you. I get not everybody is an animal person but keep it to your fucking self.
- It’s been a shitty month at work. And it looks to continue to be shitty for the next 3 months as well. Yay. I noted this on my year end review. I don’t think anybody is going to be surprised when I walk. Did get an unexpected note of appreciation for my work. Was kind of awkward.
- Another fantastic Christmas party at the Allenses. I actually had complete recall of the night the next morning too! Scored another Nerf gun too! Marks one year since I put my smooth moves to work in wooing my honey boo. She was helpless to resist.
- Watched Hangover 2. Terrible.
- Intrigued by the reviews of Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. Is it time for Tom Cruise to be a movie star again?
- Been through a Glenfiddich, a Glevlivet, and have an Aberlour 12 that I’m working through right now. Man I love that Aberlour.
- (Nerd Alert!) Hacked Ice Cream Sandwich onto my Android phone. Awesome.
- Finished Batman Arkham City. Boojah!
- Drove up to Ottawa for the Christmas weekend. We were leaving at 5 in the afternoon on the Friday before Christmas Eve. Decided to go all over Southern Ontario rather than test the 401. Took us 6 1/2 hours rather than 5 hours on a clear 401. I’d do it again because 6 1/2 hours of constant driving beats a half hour delay of stop and go through Toronto.
Yah, that’s about it. All the changes in my life have been good ones (except for that fucking vet bill). My issues have all been things that were still issues last year so, just have to keep changing until I achieve complete and utter good times.
A very Merry Christmas to everyone out there. Looking forward to watching my niece and nephew unwrap their presents tomorrow. I think that will be the perfect cap to a game changing year.
Saturday, 10 December 2011
I didn't make it a full day but 9 solid hours of drinking should count for something. Props to the host who opened up his brand new home to a platoon of sloppy, sloppy individuals. He also procured 3 kegs of u-brew for the day. The Bock had a tad too much mercury in it but the other two held up well. Yes, even the Crystal knockoff was more than welcome once the drinking got more focused.
I do have to say that the spirit of the day seems to have gone amiss. The movies were rarely the focus of the day. And I pulled the cord just as the fourth movie was starting. So I STILL haven't seen that stupid movie. I'll have to watch it in on my own at some point because apparently there's a fifth one in the works.
One remarkable discovery was made on this day that must be shared. There was this phenomenal shredded chicken and cheese dip there. Before passing out at 2 in the afternoon, Brother Judd managed to share the recipe. For everyone's benefit, it's included below:
BROTHER JUDD'S TOTAL FLAME-OUT CHICKEN CHEESE DIP
2 packages of cream cheese, cubed
4 cups of shredded 4 year old sharp Cheddar
2 cups Frank's Red Hot Original Sauce
2 cups buttermilk ranch dressing
6 chicken breasts boiled and shredded
Layer the cream cheese on the bottom of a casserole dish. Cover with the shredded cheese, Frank's sauce, and ranch dressing. Place in a 350 degree oven for 7 to 10 minutes.
Remove mixture and stir.
Put mixture in oven for another 7 to 10 minutes.
Remove mixture and stir in shredded chicken.
Put back in oven for another 20-30 minutes.
Serve warm with tortilla chips.
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
Tuesday, 6 December 2011
Monday, 5 December 2011
Anyways, work's not going well, to say the least. But, the upside is Die Hard Day is almost here! Last year was quite an experience and the ante has been upped for this year's event with three kegs of micro brewery goodness! Well, two kegs of goodness and one keg of a Labatt Crystal knockoff. Given the option of duplicating any beer in Canada, why would anyone choose to duplicate Labatt fucking Crystal? The mind reels. I guess it could be worse. They could have gotten a keg of Old Vienna. I'm sure I won't be complaining after the first dozen beers.
In any case, I'm looking forward to a full day of therapy.
Sunday, 4 December 2011
The greaseball, douchebag, hipster who is shamefully ripping off the epic Dos Equis' Most Interesting Man In the World in this Heineken commercial. Fuck you and fuck your hipster soundtrack. GOD! It's stuck in my head now.
Friday, 2 December 2011
I laughed so hard, I almost fell off my chair. I'm surprised the photos turned out as I was still giggling when I took them. It's the little things.
Wednesday, 30 November 2011
-- Gail Sheehy author
I can only imagine that there are millions of starving and/or abused children in the world that could have used a bit less therapy in their life. On behalf of them, fuck you Gail Sheehy.
Monday, 28 November 2011
I had zero interest in this movie when it came out in theaters. Mostly because the memories of the unfortunate Tim Burton remake are still fresh in my mind. But also because James Franco is the most unlikely actor to play a scientist since Denise Richards in The World is Not Enough.
So, I was very surprised to hear complimentary review after complimentary review on the various movie podcasts I listen too. Finally I decided to check it out.
And it really is a good movie. I was shocked to find how much I enjoyed this movie. It's much more than the dumb action movie I was expecting. There are difficult scenes to watch as an animal lover but the progression and development of the characters is something to witness. Especially when the main character is a monkey and doesn't really contribute too much dialogue to the movie.
So, yah, put whatever prejudices you might have about this movie to the side and give it a try!
And then we watched Bad Teacher. What a horrible fucking movie. It appears to be trying to be the public education equivalent of Bad Santa but where Bad Santa was hilarious in its unapologetic crudeness, Bad Teacher was just bad. Just not funny in the slightest.
Didn't watch the whole movie. About three quarters of the way through and we started having technical difficulties. Didn't care to solve those technical difficulties if my reward was going to be having to watch the rest of this farce. Who knows, maybe the final scene was so side-splittingly funny that it would have made the previous 90 minutes of non-humour worthwhile. But I doubt it. And I'm okay with not ever knowing.
Avoid this movie at all costs.
Friday, 25 November 2011
For those unfamiliar with the meme:
Well shit. The internet must contain some easily applied remedy for this situation...
Ah, here it is... the Yellow Light Of Death. Fuck. That's not good.
I specifically purchased the PS3 because it didn't have all the problems the XBox 360 had with it's Red Ring Of Death. And it has been rock solid these last 5 years. It's been my bluray player, my portal to netflix, my stream to downloaded content of questionable legality, my traveling Rock Band Road Show, and, of course, my safety valve to release all that pent up office worker frustration with countless bullets and fists delivered to endless hordes of deserving bad guys.
And I've been so smug about it too. Heralding the PS3 superiority over the XBox to anyone and everyone. Whether they wanted to hear it or not. Better graphics, better processor, better games, better on-line store, and better reliability.
But, here I am, holding my limp and useless six axis controller just like any one of those Microsoft bitches. The only difference is that the Microsoft bitches have a "no questions asked" return and replace warranty for the Red Ring Of Death. Sony has no such warranty for the PS3 and my newly discovered Yellow Light Of Death.
My only hope is that I can pop the case open and remove the 5 pounds of cat hair that has no doubt accumulated over the years and that makes everything okey dokey. I'm not confident that will fix anything though. I think I'm pretty much resigned that gaming as a past time will end as I know it. I tried playing some Wii after I'd done weeping over the PS3 but making Mario jump around on toad stools to collect coins just seemed to be making a mockery of my lost PS3.
Fuck it, looks like I'll be taking up quilting as a hobby.
Thursday, 24 November 2011
- It's a highland malt!
- It's made with virgin oak!
- It's only $38!
Pulling it out of the box, you can see it's going to be a light trip. I like to think that virgin oak would result in a better drink but obviously the sherry leftovers do lend something to the final product. The first whiff is not promising. It's still light but there's a stinging citrus in there that indicates you really should have spent a couple extra bucks to get the Glenlivet.
The taste is.. high? Does that make any sense? It just tastes too elevated and thinned out. There's still a punch to it though. It's like somebody had the volume up to 8 but cranked the treble to 11. There's some mellow caramel but it disappears quickly.
And after the taste? I can only describe it as a sugary wood flavour. The virgin oak really comes through with a slight citrus bloom. And it hangs around. Too long. It's not oily and cloying but it does sit itself at the back of your mouth and begs you to go get some sharp cheddar to clear the air.
Yah, so, needless to say a disappointing bottle. I see that the Deanston label is actually on some malts with defined ages and I'd try them. But I won't try this one again.
You get what you pay for. 2 shots.
Saturday, 19 November 2011
Anybody that has ever tried to get a pill or liquid down a cat's throat will tell you this is as fun a pasttime as relaxing in a bathtub full of thumb tacks. Little fucker. I'm trying to HELP you!
Monday, 14 November 2011
Sunday, 13 November 2011
Saturday, 12 November 2011
So, yah, hippie chow. But a look at the menu was incredibly tempting. With the in-laws in town, it seemed like a good opportunity to give it a try.
Walking in the door and this is exactly what I’ve been looking for. A kind of pub feel to it but open and bright and very interesting architecture for basically being at the tail end of a strip mall. It’s Saturday night and they don’t take reservations so the wait wasn’t unexpected. I wasn’t going to complain because it gave me time to read over the list of beers they had on tap.
Pause for drooling.
There were about 20 beers on tap and the majority were craft types. Oh man. Here’s a place to waste some time.
We’d already been over the menu that afternoon but the decision was still a hard one. So many tasty looking options. I ended up going with a pulled pork and cheese on flatbread thing with a chicken wing chaser. Freaking awesome. I will never make fun of this brand of hippie fare again. Fresh and local makes a big difference.
And the staff was helpful and prompt and pleasant even thought they were obviously swamped. Makes a big difference too.
So, while it’s just BARELY in Kitchener, I wholeheartedly recommend this place. For food, for beers, for atmosphere. Aces.
Forgot to mention that there was one significant miss on the evening. I'm not really one for desserts but I couldn't pass up The Ultimate Butter Tart. I've got incredibly high standards when it comes to butter tarts and I wasn't going to let such a bold claim go without some verification.
And, no, I can safely say Borealis is NOT the home of the ultimate butter tart. For a place that prides itself on so many hand crafted sauces and condiments, it is more than a little disappointing to eat a butter tart that tastes so suspiciously store bought.
A minor thing when compared to the other highlights of the evening. Still a strong recommendation, just don't expect much from the dessert menu.
Who would I like to punch in the face this week?
The two douchebags sitting behind me at this restaurant. There’s something about listening to a 20 year old claim that any book is “THE BEST BOOK WRITTEN EVER!”. Really? You’re 20 years old and you’re ready to claim one book the best that has ever been written? I grant you, it’s probably WAY better than the Harry Potter book you finished last year but maybe give it a few more decades of steady reading before making such a statement.
Okay, that alone isn’t face punch worthy. It’s just really fucking annoying. But then after the great literary discourse, I’m listening to these post coital dribbles wax poetic about knifing an opponent in the face in the latest Modern Warfare game. And absolutely no self-awareness to accompany this discussion. No declaration that “Hey! We really are just a couple of university douchebags that just want to get drunk and play playstation, we really shouldn’t be awarding lifetime literary awards at this time in our lives.”
Seriously wouldn’t you want to punch these guys in the face? On the other hand, I’m glad nobody was punching me in the face when I was making similar statements back in my university days.
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
The nose, man, there's very little aroma to this one. I had to double check the bottle but, yah, not much waft to this malt. Maybe it's because I'm slowly recovering from a 2 week long cold and my senses are still dulled but it's a little strange. At most there's a slight hint of sherry but not much more.
The taste is smooth with a slight alcohol bloom but nothing stands out. The aftertaste is where some character comes to life. It's not the peanut taste I remember from 2 1/2 years ago but a strong, dry, deep wood bloom that shows up with authority, lingers for a while, and then is gone without any reminders.
I gotta say, I'm a little disappointed that there WASN'T any peanut flavour. It was something so unexpected at the time and quite humourous with the squirrel on the label. I mean, I didn't LIKE the peanut flavour but I was hoping to enjoy that memory again in real time. As it is, it's kind of missing some key ingredients to a quality scotch. It's smooth with an aftertaste that makes the purchase worthwhile but it would be nice to have something to enjoy before getting to the end.
Maybe it is my cold. I'll check in again next week and re-review to double check. But for now:
Peanut-less. 3 shots.
Thursday, 3 November 2011
Fuuuuuuuuuck! Movember is over. At least for me. I was shaving away and just on instinct I went across my upper lip with the electric razor. For fuck's sake. I pulled my hand away before I got halfway across the lip. But it was too late. The damage was done. I had a nice diagonal line running through the sparse foliage that had accumulated over the past three days. There was no saving it. I sucked it up and shaved the rest off. Sigh. Maybe next year.
Wednesday, 2 November 2011
Well, it's that time of year again. Time to put my manhood on the line and see if I can grow a God damned moustache! After last year's disastrous results the bar is set pretty low. Despite all of Jen's objections, I'm going to give it a week and see how it goes. Pictures will be posted if anything respectable shows up.
Wednesday, 26 October 2011
Two Guitar Legends And A Douchebag Hipster
Seriously, what the fuck is Jack White doing there? It's the electric guitar tribute version of Sesame Street's "One of these things is not like the others". I like some White Stripes stuff but I'd never identify anything they've done as epic guitar work. Weird.
Sunday, 23 October 2011
The hell spawn that keeps green lighting new seasons of NCIS: Los Angeles. How do we keep losing great shows like Firefly and Terriers after only one season yet this infected taint of a show keeps coming back year after year? Its existence defies all logic, good taste, and human decency.
This insanity needs to stop and if punching somebody in the face will get that done, please sign me up.
Friday, 21 October 2011
Not sure if this is new this year but they have women in tight pants come out whenever there's a break in the action to dance to the intermission music. It's kind of awkward. Do I just stare at you? Do I slip a fiver into your pants? Weird. This isn't a picture of those dancers. These are two of about six girls who came to the game in spandex cat suits. I was pretty blatant in my picture taking. I'm sorry but if you come to the game dressed like that, I'm going to stare.
It was a good run. No cup but plenty of entertainment. But now, the Jets are back. The NHL, in their infinite wisdom, wouldn't let the Coyotes leave their money pit of a situation in Phoenix but barely noticed when the Atlanta Thrashers were purchased and relocated to Winnipeg. So it's not the original team returning but we'll take professional hockey any way we can get it. The new logo may be an emotionless, graphic arts project but it's still great to have hockey back in Winnipeg.
And last night was my first opportunity to see the reborn Jets play live. And I got to see them play against my fill-in team, the Ottawa Senators. I was happy to see so many Jets jerseys at Scotia Bank Place. Senators fans are nothing if not accommodating of opposing team fans. It was a little strange to cheer against a team I'd been so emotionally invested in for the past 15 years but I got over it by the second period.
The team shows promise. They're going to get a honeymoon pass for the season so they can suck all they want but we do want to see promise for the next year. Byfuglien is a beast with a wicked slap shot but a fast skater, he is not. Hard to blame the goalie for the goals he let in. I'm most concerned with the coaching moves. The goalie was pulled with 5 minutes left to play which was very confusing. But everybody looked like they were skating hard and generating opportunities. It was a good game to see.
Even though we lost.
But I don't really mind that they lost to the Sens. They were a great team to cheer for the last 15 years and I'll always pull for them in the Battle of Ontario (yes the Leaf hatred remains). But the Jets are back! They may not be a great team but they're mine!
Thursday, 13 October 2011
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
So, why am I constraining my dinner selection to the lobby vending machine? Because I am a giant chicken and I'm deathly afraid of going to a restaurant and ordering a meal in French.
So I'm just going to hide in my hotel room with my overpriced snacks and crappy beer and impatiently wait for my return to Ontario where I will be hitting up the very first McDonalds I run across.
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Technology is great until the real world shits all over it.
I still eat bacon after these encounters. I just steer clear of the highway until I forget.
So, for one post, I'm going to put the sarcasm aside and really get into the Thanksgiving spirit.
I am thankful that my life is so different than it was just 1 year ago. I am thankful for the woman who is responsible for that change. I am thankful that she puts up with all my nonsense. I am thankful for the laughter during the good times. I am thankful for the support during the bad times. I am thankful that the shitty days at work turn into the best day ever just by seeing her when I walk through the door. I am thankful for the friends who pushed us together. And I am thankful for the family that welcomed her unconditionally.
Saturday, 8 October 2011
- It was on SALE! Who can pass up a bargain?
- It has an HDMI port so it can be connected painlessly to the TV at home or while travelling.
- It has a built in web cam so I'm missing out on all those face-to-face skype calls (yah this one is pretty weak).
- It has a modern chip with 4 gb of ram.
- A 13.3" screen but with a full keyboard.
- A USB 3.0 port for future expansion.
- Wireless 802.11 N for HD throughput across my network.
- My current laptop is over 5 years old, has none of the above features, and the battery will no longer hold a charge.
- The netbook is just too small. For the price it was a revelation in internet access but for just a $100 more I have a device with a usable keyboard and a screen that can display more than two lines of text.
- Did I mention it was on sale?
Every single god-damned person who was on the 401 last night. Sweet mary mother fucking hare krishna. How is it that the entire population of Ontario decided to go to Ottawa this weekend? I mean I always expect Toronto to be a total cluster fuck but holy fuck if we weren't parked on the 401 right at the on-ramp from Kitchener. We basically crawled the entire way. Seven fucking hours for what is normally a five hour trip. I fucking hate you all. Even the 407 was no help. We cruised most of the way after ditching the 401 but then ran smack into an episode of COPS that eliminated any gains we had made. It just doesn't fucking pay to leave home.
Monday, 3 October 2011
The dizzy bitch at the gas station this weekend.
I pull in to the gas station and look down the row of pumps. All occupied. Doing my best estimation of who's likely to pull out first I start heading down the line when I see the second last car pull away from the pump. Perfect! I pull in behind and ease up to the pump handle. I look up and see the car that was at the pump is half way through turning completely around. And the woman at the wheel is making the UGLIEST face I have ever seen. She is yipping and yapping at me through her window and it is pretty clear that she thinks I am the most disgusting human being in existence.
It seems she had pulled in to the pump the wrong way for her vehicle. Either she thought she could stretch the hose across the back of the car or she just plain forgot which side of the car the gas cap was on. Once she realized her mistake she pulled out to turn around. Which is when I showed up.
Now the prick in me said "Just get the fuck out, flip her the bird, and start pumping gas".
But considering that her predicament indicated she was at least halfway retarded, I decided to be the bigger man. I made a little head patting motion through my windshield and mouthed the words "CALM THE FUCK DOWN". I pulled through and went to one of the other pumps which was now free.
I still can't get that look out of my head though. She reacted like I had run over her first born to screw her over at the gas pump. Instead of accepting that she's a fucking dip wad who should have figured out how to gas up her fucking vehicle before leaving her fucking house. Yet if I punched her in the face, I would be the one to go to jail.
But times have changed apparently. From my point of view, if you spend a month telling everybody who you're going to pick at the hockey draft and then don't show up at the hockey draft, you can expect to get fucked over at that draft. And if it was me, I'd respect the person who fucked me over. I'd still call him a prick and give him a hard time but I would know that I brought it on myself.
What I wouldn't do is pout and act like a 12 year old girl who's had her cellphone and internet taken away. Actually, the only time I could see me acting that way is if somebody actually took MY cellphone and internet away. Fucking stunning. I don't understand people. I think I'll take a little break from people for a while.
Friday, 30 September 2011
They were happy to get an mp3 player, I was happy to help out some friends, and Jen was ecstatic to get one more item removed from a counter top. But when I dropped off the iPod, they seemed a little confused. I think they were thinking I was talking about my old nano and not the fancier iPod touch. Schmeck started insisting on payment. After all, this iPod was a purchase that nearly gave Kate a stroke when she found out the sticker price back when I bought it.
I eventually relented and suggested a bottle of scotch for payment. At least it would be something I could share with Schmeck. A little while later Schmeck e-mailed and apologetically explained how he had just purchased the bottle in question but totally missed that he had picked up an Islay malt.
Islay malts are not my favourite. In fact, I've only ever had one bottle from the Islay region that I've been satisfied with. And that was a Lagavulin. And that was also received in payment for another obsolete piece of equipment. So, I was game. I admonished Schmeck for picking up a bottle that far exceeded the value of a 5 year old iPod with a cracked screen but I still went along with the trade.
Memories of Islay malts past still haunt my memories so I was prepared for the aroma. It is the smell of a sweaty gym sock that somebody has used to mop up some spilled rubbing alcohol. I wasn't deterred though. I remember my previous Lagavulin as easily overcoming that smell with a full-bodied, smooth burn followed by a crisp and clean finish. And this bottle matches that memory for the most part. It's just that there's a lot more gym sock than I remembered.
The other thing I like about Lagavulin compared to other Islays is that it doesn't seem to have the salt content that the others have. I think that lack of sea salt and the super clean finish is what really sets a quality Islay apart from the standard fare. I may find the aroma and taste challenging and not entirely agreeable but I appreciate that neither hangs around to remind me of those facts.
So, Schmeck, drop by any time. There will be some left in the bottle I'm sure. I'm interested in your take on it.
As good as an Islay gets. 3 shots.
Wednesday, 28 September 2011
Sunday, 18 September 2011
Who would I like to punch in the face this week?
Yup, the whole network. For ruining what was once the best pre-game football show, my fist needs to meet their face at rapid velocity.
NFL Countdown is now 3 hours long. So what? More is better right? That's the same thinking that grew the list of commentators from 4 to every retired player and coach that ever played professional football.
It's just too much. You were already an hour longer than every other pre-game show. Now you're two hours longer. Congratulations. What are you going to fill that extra hour with? Touching tributes, emotional stories, and, please, as much Kenny Mayne as humanly possible.
It's fucking ridiculous.
Thanks for listening.
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Oh, man, did it miss. I laughed out loud twice. That's it. The rest of the running time, I spent cringing. This is a movie about awkward social situations from start to finish. I didn't like the main character and I didn't like the supporting characters. It was fucking horrid.
If somebody tells you that this is just as good as The Hangover, punch that person in the face. It is a lie. So glad I didn't pay for this travesty.
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Seriously, fuck this guy. Fuck his prolific passing. Fuck his accurate arm. Fuck his stupid fucking hair. Fuck his fucking five hundred yards. I watched the first three quarters of the first Monday night football game of the season last night and all I heard was Ron Jaworski verbally lick Tom Brady up and down all night. It was fucking ridiculous. He wasn't THAT great. He was still missing receivers. Only a couple in 3 quarters, but still... not perfect. So, apparently he lit it up in the last quarter. And apparently the Miami defense can't handle heat and humidity and overbearing handsomeness. As a Fin Fan, I can tell it's going to be a long season. I'm out 5 bucks too as my Dad Brady-baited me into a bet on the game. So, again, fuck this guy.
Monday, 12 September 2011
Rob and Andy were first to the post office though so were going to their wedding and the plan was I would drive up to Ottawa for the next day BBQ with Ash's new in-laws. Not ideal but the only way I could figure out to show my support for everybody.
Rob and Andy had organized their wedding around a harbour cruise in Toronto. I've recently described how my blood pressure spikes while being in Toronto so I don't need to go over it again. But this time, Jen and I were in separate vehicles and that seemed to double my stress as I attempted to drive one car with my hands and feet and a whole other car through the power of my mind.
We eventually made it to the right parking lot and I even lucked into a very truck-friendly spot. We made our way out to the boat and once we sat down, I could feel all the stress leaving my body. Being on the water is so relaxing. I really should have brought my fishing gear.
The ceremony was great though I didn't have the best view. Emotional but with a definite sense of humour and a beautiful setting out on the harbour. I was truly honoured they had asked us to be part of their day.
After the ceremony, we made our way back to the dining deck. People were asked to make speeches if they were so inclined. One person accepted that invitation. An individual who stood about 6'6" in what looked to be about 4" heels and a sleeveless dress that showed that this person had spent at least some time in a gym. I can only assume this person is a professional who rents out his services for anyone who wants a wedding to contain an embarrassing wedding speech like the ones you see in Hugh Grant movies. There were many threats to reveal parts of Rob's history that some may deem inappropriate for a wedding ceremony. But details were thankfully in short supply.
Rob seemed to be doing a good job in steering the speaker off the microphone but then, to my utter horror, Andrea started heckling the speaker. The drag queen's attention was then square on our table and she was coming over. Crap. I'm a fight or flight kind of guy and since this individual looked like he could easily introduce me to an emergency room I was doing a survey of the windows behind me and whether I could fit through one of them.
But it was too late. He was at our table and while he and Andrea traded witticisms, I stared directly at my bread plate. And I stared hard. I'm surprised the plate didn't shatter under the weight of my gaze and my desperate wish to be anywhere else.
Eventually things settled down and I was able to make a run to the bar. Rob, Andy, if you happen to read this, I really did have a good time, thanks again for inviting us and congratulations on a memorable day!
The boat docked around 11:00 and after some back and forthing and saying goodbye to Jen, I was on the road heading to Ottawa at 11:30.
The plan was to drive for an hour to get out of Toronto and find a hotel for the night. When I hit Bowmanville though, I was feeling pretty good. I figured I'd grab a Monster and make a run for Kingston at the very least.
The Monster didn't last long. By the time I got to Kingston, I was struggling. So I pulled off at another service center, found the darkest corner I could, cleared out the rear bench and curled up for a nap. This was about 2:30. The last time I'd slept in my car was a couple days before Schmeck's wedding when I drove out to St. John. I was driving a 2 door Civic back then. I was a little skinnier back then but not much. The F150 is quite a bit more comfortable.
I woke up around 4:30 and thought I was ready to hit the road again. I wasn't. I drove another half hour and then pulled off in some small town and had another nap in an LCBO parking lot. One more hour and I was ready to make the final leg up to Ottawa.
I had to make it. I had to put in some kind of appearance even if it was a day late. Ash was a great friend through high school and stayed one throughout all my relocations. He and Jim and Sean and Nuno made sure I didn't disappear into a self-imposed shell during my less than historic high school years. I'm ashamed to say that I probably would have lost contact with these guys if it wasn't for Facebook. But Ash was always on the ball and made sure we always had up to date contact info. When Ash is your friend, you have a friend for life. A stand up guy and I was very disappointed I wasn't there for his big day.
But I made it to the BBQ. Not in the best of shape but I seemed to fit in alright with the hangover cases that were on display there. Missed most of the guys I knew from Manitouwadge but was able to shake Ash's hand and congratulate him at the very least. I still feel like I missed out on contributing so I'll be picking up the bar tab in Sudbury for years to come until the guilt dissolves.
So, that's it. No more weddings this year! Seriously, I'm always happy for those people that find each other and want to make that commitment to each other and all the best to those couples who tied the knot this year but weddings are stressful ventures for all involved and I've had enough to last for quite a while. So no more this year. And there is nothing in the foreseeable future!
Or is there?
Saturday, 10 September 2011
Every single perky, upbeat teenager who wanted to wash my car this morning. Yes, I appreciate your skimpy attire and I ordinarily would be more than happy to help out the CF charity, but I'm in my car and I have places to go. Get in MY face and I will run you down and THEN punch you in YOUR face. Set up your little operation off in the parking lot and wave your little signs but come up to me at a stop sign like some hobo with a squeegee and you can expect some attitude.
And what fucking adult is organizing this venture and thinks it's okay for a dozen kids to be getting in motorists faces while standing on the median separating 4 lanes of traffic? Yah, that guy needs a punch in the face too.
Yah, pretty good. Definitely redeems the series after the horrible dive it took with X-Men 3 and Wolverine. I'll take a shit on Wolverine: X-Men Origins all day and all night, BUT, Wolverine stole THIS friggin movie with his 15 second cameo. Freaking hilarious. Actually the sense of humour ran throughout and really helped the movie along.
Not great, but definitely worth a watch.
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Not a movie I borrowed. The movie's title is Something Borrowed. You can google it. I don't want the imdb link to dirty my blog.
I knew that Jen and I had different tastes in movies. I'm your typical white-male-angst type movie fan (Platoon, Fight Club, Seven, early Tarantino) with a bit of geek thrown in (Batman, X-Men, MST3K). Whereas Jen is your typical girl (Dirty Dancing, I don't think I need to list any more, that about sums it up).
So Jen picked tonight's movie. And she picked Something Borrowed. And I lasted 20 minutes. Buh. I either had to leave the room or start yelling at the TV. Brutal.
Tomorrow I get my revenge though. I"m thinking X-Men: First Class!
So, I posted my first ad on Kijiji. Several people I know use Kijiji on a frequent basis and shared many stories of rapid sales. But I was hesitant. I'm not a fan of people in general but people who buy used items really creep me out. I just hate the bartering. Look, this is the price, either pay it or move in. I'm not interested in continuing this relationship beyond the price I've asked for my item. You think that price is too high? Fuck off then. The first people that came to look at Jen's car were the worst example of these type of people. It was all "Oh buddy look at the scratches" and "Oh buddy did you hear that noise?" and "Oh buddy is that an oil leak?" and "Oh buddy I couldn't possibly go any higher than a $1000 less than the ridiculously low price you were asking for this car". I was so happy when a sensible Northener ended up outbidding that prick by $500.
But back to my trailer. Six p.m. the ad went up. 6:05 came my first inquiry by e-mail. And it was a steady stream after that. I don't know if people set up alerts for trailers or what, but it was kind of spooky how quickly people were finding out about my trailer. I had priced the trailer at $600, hoping to get $500. I know, I know, what happened to "This is my price or fuck off" stance? I just wanted the trailer gone so I decided to play the game. Sure enough, those that didn't have technical questions were all stating "Would you take $500?". People from all over Southern Ontario were contacting me but there was one guy who lived about 10 blocks away who said he could come right over. He came over, looked at the trailer, gave me my $500, and drove away with it.
Two freaking hours and I had completed my transaction. Amazing. What's more, when I came back inside, there was an e-mail from a guy saying "DON'T SELL THE TRAILER! I'LL PAY ASKING PRICE!". Felt kind of bad. But not really. I was actually feeling kind of exhilarated. My brother had described his first Kijiji sale and how he then went on a selling rampage, listing pretty much everything his wife and kids would let him. I wasn't going to go overboard but the thrill of the quick sale does get the adrenaline going a bit. Ah, the sad little highs of suburban life!
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
I still wasn't going to pay for it though. So, when Jen said she was in the mood for some cinematic beefcake, I sparked up the bit torrent.
And, I'm sorry, but this is a terrible fucking movie. The big selling point for this sequel is that it is no longer about the street racing but more of a heist movie. And this is a good a heist movie as the first one was a racing movie. As soon as Paul Walker says "We're going to need to get a team together" I had had enough of this flick. It tries pretty hard to be Ocean's Eleven and fails at every point.
The "team" is a bunch of people I assume I'm supposed to recognize from previous sequels. But I don't know who they are therefore I really don't give a shit about them. Besides it seems that they rewrote their characteristics whenever it suited this particular sequel.
And just a special note about Paul Walker. He is a terrible actor. Terrible. He makes Keannu Reeves appear expressive and emotional by comparison. I can only assume he was doing some special "favours" for the producer that got him starring roles in each of these retarded films. You have Vin Diesel and the fucking Rock in this flick, what the fuck are you doing putting Paul Walker in there? It's like bringing a hamster/poodle cross to a rottweiler convention.
Ugh. Anyways, Jen seems to be enjoying the beefcake. Meanwhile I've yet to see one boobie. Total waste. Skip it.
Monday, 29 August 2011
The bachelor party was a weekend long affair but I was only going to be able to take part in the Friday night events. I'd missed out on the Steamwhistle brewery tour but caught up with everybody at the Real Sports Bar & Grill just beside the Air Canada Centre. And this place is something else. The main projection screen is immense, covering most of the wall behind the bar. Hard to give it real dimensions but if I had to guess I'd say 15 feet high by 30 feet long? It's big. And then countless flat screens all around the place covering every other sporting event being broadcast at that time. Freaking impressive.
So, entertainment wise, this place beats all comers outside of a Vegas sports book. But it gets better. The beer selection is plentiful and interesting and available in 32 ounce mugs. There was even a Munich lager that came in a 40 ounce mug. Awesome. The scotch selection was overpriced, not surprisingly, but they did have an Aberlour 12 so I was happy. The food was interesting and very tasty. Ash's brother took some ribbing for his lettuce burger (bun replaced with 1/4 of a head of lettuce) but where else could you order such a thing? The waitresses were all runway model hot (or so I'm told, I didn't really notice, honest) and super attentive and super tolerant of our drunken assholish ways. The atmosphere was alive and jumping. The bathrooms had the requisite flat panels at each urinal AND they had those Dyson air blade hand dryers.
All that must add up to best sports bar ever, right? Sadly, no. One thing was wrong with the whole set-up. One thing that soured me on the Real Sports experience. And that was the frigging music. The person that thought The Police's Roxanne needed to be re-mixed to a dance beat should be severely beaten. But the guy who thought that was the perfect song to play in a testosterone focused sports bar? He should be fed to rabid boars from the toes up.
I can't recall what the music was like before that song came up. And that's fine. It is what it should be in a sports bar. Just background noise. But after Roxanne-Remix, all I heard was sacrilegious dance beats tearing apart once great songs. It was fucking horrible.
And there is Toronto encapsulated in a sports bar. All the money in the world but no fucking soul. The people there aren't there for the sports atmosphere, they are there because it's a different take on their standard meat-market night club. These are the douchebag equivalents of those suits behind the glass at a Toronto Maple Leafs game. They don't give a shit about hockey, they only bought the seats because they were expensive and in demand and they wanted to impress some clients. Bah.
All the best to Ash and his upcoming marriage. I had a good time, I really did. But holy fuck do I still hate Toronto.
Sunday, 28 August 2011
Work related. We had a hard target date to get two prototypes done for our distributor meeting. New plastic components, new ROPS, new steering set up, and, just for kicks, a brand new engine we'd never used before. The trip out to Wisconsin was to fetch the plastic components and then it was rush, rush, rush to get everything to fit up.
And we got it done. It wasn't fun, not by a long shot, but we got both prototypes done in time. Neither drove particularly well but they were definitely pretty. Good enough to show off to our distributors.
At the last minute I was asked to go up to the distributor meeting. I wasn't sure if this was a reward for getting the prototypes done in time or punishment for, I don't know, being an engineer I guess. But I went. Up to the Viamede resort in the Kawarthas. Nice lake, okay accommodations, and a whole lotta sales people. If I had brought my kayak and fishing gear, it actually would have been an enjoyable couple days. But it was work, just work in a nicer location.
So I listened to people give their opinions on the prototypes and listened to the numerous presentations and listened to the small talk at dinner and I had my free beers and then I went to bed. I can never fully relax in a room full of sales people. I'm sure there were some decent drinkers in the group but the only thing to do besides drink was to talk about Argos and I had honestly had enough of the topic the last 3 weeks.
But most of the drama seems to be done now. Should be able to down shift into a regular running gear now and start doing the clean up part of the project. Good times.
Sunday, 21 August 2011
I know it's just crappy, ridiculous, pre-season football but it's still awesome to be sitting on the couch on a Sunday afternoon and watching PROFESSIONAL football. (Yes that is a shot at you, CFL). Won't be long before we have serious football again!
Wednesday, 17 August 2011
Everybody who stops by the prototype I'm working on while my head is stuck in the engine compartment and my ass is hanging out in the air and asks "Hey! Is this the new prototype?".
No. No it's a waste bin and I've dropped my phone in it. Come help me look.
I just take it as granted that people understand that if they can't see my head, they know that I am currently busy. So please fuck off and take your idle chit-chat to someone who gives a shit.
Of course, five minutes later somebody will walk by and sneer "Why'd you do it THAT way?".
And we're back to hating engineering for another 6 months.
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!
-- Theodor Seuss Geisel Writer, Cartoonist, Animator
Monday, 15 August 2011
And, again, all my worrying was for nothing. It was a fun crowd, not too many strangers to alcohol. The ceremony was definitely my style, open country setting with free beer in coolers. The reception was equally relaxed but I was very grateful for the Robinson nucleus we formed. We could observe from a safe distance, participate occasionally, and then retreat back to the safety of the herd. There was some fascinating dance moves on display, I'll say that much.
Of course, I couldn't make it through the entire event without being some sort of jackass. A very ill-advised prank. It had the full endorsement of one little Ewok but it ultimately panned as bad as any prank I've ever done. Ugh. Sorry babe.
But even with that little bump in the road, it was good times. Like I said, a fun group. Always good to meet good people. No matter how much I resist at the beginning.
Oh, and highly recommend the Stone Gate Inn in Orillia. Swank. AND the restaurant 16 Front which is more downtown Orillia. Great food, atmosphere, and staff. Yah, good weekend.
Sunday, 14 August 2011
Can't really say too much but I did want to relay one little glimpse into this trip. After sitting for an hour in stop-and-go traffic through Chicago, my boss said "Hey, do you like buffet?".
I was non-committal. I don't know. I've gone to buffet places in the southern states and they could be hit or miss. Not really something I go out of my way to try out. But my boss seemed pretty excited about it so why not? There's usually at least one dish that makes it worthwhile.
I punched in "Old Country Buffet" and found several hits. Apparently it's some sort of chain. We pulled into the one that was closest to our route and headed in. And this place.... man... this place is the saddest restaurant I've ever been in, in my entire life. The Old Country Buffet is unquestionably the Wal-Mart of the dining world. The people in this place are not happy. They're not happy with their lives and they are not happy that they have to eat at a place like the Old Country Buffet.
There are exactly two nice things I can say about the Old Country Buffet. It is inexpensive and the dining experience is as quick as you want to make it.
The rest of it is shit.
The Mexican section was disgusting, the Chinese section was depressing, the Italian section was laughable, and everything else just made me cringe. And cry a little.
The fried chicken was at least edible. And the coffee was better than the stuff at the office (which isn't saying much). So I grimly ate my meal and then we grimly left.
This was not a happy meal. And it set the tone for the rest of the trip. Avoid the Old Country Buffet if you value your happiness in any amount.
Tuesday, 2 August 2011
First up was Machete! What can I say? I really liked this movie. Spawned from the same circumstances that created Hobo With A Shotgun and it must be viewed in that same frame of mind (i.e. drunk).
Next we watched Rango! I didn't think the previews looked any good for this Pixar wannabe but I had heard many good reviews. So we watched it. And it sucked. So there you go. Always go with your instincts.
So, not a great day of fishing but the important thing is the skunk streak is over. I caught a fish!
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Despite its claims of being royal AND deluxe, my expectations are low. The aroma is caramelly but heavy on sugar. I was expecting the dreaded cloying of a cheap blend. And it's there but not overpowering. It's dry and slightly peaty with a slight flash of alcohol and a slightly oily finish. Interesting. Not a favourite, but for a blend it provides the right amount of challenge. Yah, not bad. For a sub $40 bottle it's worth a trip but I won't go back in a hurry.
A royal challenge but not so deluxe. 3 shots.
Monday, 25 July 2011
Mega Python vs. Gatoroid!
I didn't anything could top the cheez of Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus but, man, was I wrong. Looks like Debbie Gibson has traded in Lorenzo Lamas and upgraded to a very buxom Tiffany. Yes, the former teen singing sensations are together at last and doing battle against giant pythons and a robot gator or something. I don't know. Not really paying attention.
But whether I'm actually focusing on the movie or not, it goes without saying that whoever keeps green lighting these films has my utmost respect and admiration.
So, apparently they aren't robot gators but gators hopped up on steroids! Fantastic. And Micky Dolenz is in it too!
Sunday, 24 July 2011
Headed to the launch and dragged the kayak out to the river. It was a little shallow near shore but it looked pretty good nearer the middle. Popped my drive fins in, dropped the rudder, grabbed my fishing rod, and threw out my first cast.
And then I ran aground. Big shelf of rock seemed to run right across the whole river. Huh. Shuffled and pushed myself off the rock and threw out another cast.
And then I ran aground again. And I couldn't push myself off. So I stepped out of the kayak, stood in the Grand River and pulled my kayak off the rocks.
Okay, so the drive pedals were a no go and the rudder was kept tucked up to avoid the rocks. It was going to be a straight paddling day. Except the rocks and current meant that paddling was all I was going to be doing and not too much fishing. By this point I had drifted down to the first turn in the river and I had realized I had made a mistake in picking the river for today's fishing spot. Time to call it quits and head back to the truck.
I turned the kayak around and started paddling. Except I was now moving backwards. I paddled harder. Started making forward progress. Until I reached the first low point in the river and the current just pushed me back. Well, fuck. Now what?
Umm, looked around at the shores, no great places to beach. So, out I get and I start walking up the river, dragging my kayak behind me. This is not fun. The current is fast and the terrain rocky. Every step, I'm visualizing a slip, a cracked ankle, and my kayak with all my fishing gear floating away down the river.
I trudge about a 100 metres or so and see a spot on shore that looks like it has a path leading up the bank. I make my way across and park the kayak. I head up the path, hoping to find easy access for my truck. I end up in what looks like a scrap yard. I see fencing towards Hwy 24 and go over and make sure the gate is open. Back to the kayak to grab my truck keys, haul the kayak up from the bank to the yard, and then hike back to the launch to get the truck.
By this point I am drenched in both river water and sweat. Very happy that I didn't run across anybody on the Grand River Trail on the way back to the truck. Hopped in the truck drove back to collect the kayak.
And that was my big fishing outing. Still riding a big ole zero on the fish total for the summer. Yah, not so grand. So the rest of the day is all about the playstation. Stupid outdoors.
Tuesday, 19 July 2011
Stupid fucking game.
My buddy Schmeck and I went in on some wagjag or groupon thing for a round with cart at Willow Valley in Mount Hope. Nice course but their specialty seems to be sand traps.
I stopped counting my strokes half way through the back nine.
I can't remember if I swore off golf last year or not. That's how I usually end the golf season. No more golf, that's it, stupid fucking game, waste of fucking time and money. And then I go back at it the next year. I think it might actually be permanent this year. I'm having nightmares where I'm being buried in sand and I'm swinging a shovel like crazy to dig my way out but it just doesn't help.
Ach, stupid fucking game.
[caption id="attachment_1144" align="alignnone" width="580" caption="Audi R8"][/caption]
[caption id="attachment_1145" align="alignnone" width="580" caption="Bentley GT"][/caption]
[caption id="attachment_1146" align="alignnone" width="580" caption="Ferrari 360"][/caption]
[caption id="attachment_1147" align="alignnone" width="580" caption="Nissan GT-R"][/caption]
[caption id="attachment_1148" align="alignnone" width="580" caption="Lamborghini Gallardo"][/caption]
Yes, some very sweet rides. It's a chaperoned ride so it was a little frustrating not being able really see what these things could do but it was the opportunity of a lifetime. When else was I going to get behind the wheel of any of these things?
We were smiling from the get go and didn't stop until the end of the day. I was most interested in the GT-R and the Audi R8 and my final rankings pretty much bore that out. From first to worst, I would put these cars in this order:
- Nissan GT-R
- Audi R8
- Ferrari 360
- Lamborghini Gallardo
- Bentley GT
Not to take anything away from the Bentley. It's a luxurious ride with plenty of torque but it's still your rich old grandfather's sports car.
The Lamborghini had the best sounding engine but it was a little undersized for yours truly.
The Ferrari was everything I was hoping for. A glorious sounding engine, tight ride, great acceleration, and a killer look. But the transmission was a little flakey and the electronics were wonky.
The Audi R8 is an orgasm on wheels. It was driving me up the wall I couldn't build up speed to see how it really corners. It felt like it was glued to the road. It didn't have the snap of the Ferrari but it pulled like a bulldog and I was giggling non-stop. It was also the best looking car, the best fit and finish, and the car I'd most like to have as my daily driver.
And then the Nissan. Oh my. The spiritual successor to the Nissan Skyline, an almost mythical car that was never brought to North America. I almost wept when I saw it on the list of cars. And it didn't disappoint. This was the only car that scared me with its speed. There's an accelerometer graph on the dash and it showed us pulling almost a full g in acceleration. Fuck me. But around town you'd hardly guess there's a rocket under the hood. I love this car. So much. AND it's the most affordable! For a measly $100,000. Sigh.
But I got to drive it. I don't have a long bucket list but that car was on it. A monumental day because of it. The fact that I got to spend it with my girl and two of our good friends just made it that much better. Awesome.
Oh and shout out to Exotic Car Tours for organizing the great tour!
Sunday, 17 July 2011
I was stressed. Putting up with my nuttiness is one thing. Having the entire Clan TBone gawk at you at one time is something else entirely.
But I shouldn't have worried. This happens with every family get together. I look for every excuse to avoid it, if one isn't available I go in kicking and screaming, and then I eventually have a good time. You'd think I'd eventually relax about these get togethers but I'm nothing if not irrational.
Peter and Crystal had a great marriage ceremony, looking like a fairy tale couple the whole evening. So happy they asked us to be part of it despite my neuroses. And Jen was a champ throughout, winning over many an over-protective aunt and cousin. We had fun even though Jen still feels a little inhibited in front of my folks. Once she realizes they are every bit as crazy as I am, I'm sure that will pass too.
We also managed to fit in a visit to Kevin and Joanna to deliver the fabled Yarosh Pig Roaster. Sad to see that magical appliance leave the Niagara region but glad to see it revived to get some actual use. Visits to the Yarosh household don't happen too often now that they are up North so happy we could add a visit to this trip and great to see them doing so well.
Also fit in a side trip on the way home to have lunch with Jen's friends Lisa and Chris. Cool peeps that don't betray even the slightest hint that they think I'm bad news for their friend Jen. Phew!
A good weekend, filled with friends and family, and a superstar girlfriend who made it a great weekend just by being there with me.
It's pretty disappointing when a show you used to love comes to a point where viewing it only brings rage. You've committed a devoted viewership and precious disk space on your PVR but that show has declined year over year and you can turn a blind eye to those deficiencies for only so long. Eventually you find yourself yelling at that very show you used to cherish.
Shows that have made the trek from favoured viewing to outright ridicule include Criminal Minds, House, Dexter, and True Blood. And now Flashpoint.
I was so proud of Flashpoint just one year ago. A Canadian production focusing on a Strategic Response Unit team in Toronto. This is a gorgeous looking show. It's a showcase for High Def viewing. And the music selection was always something that stood out as an exceptional production feature. Sure the stories were a stretch at time and the emotion could be a little overwrought but those were always minor annoyances... until now.
The last episode we watched involved a racially charged riot over a police shooting of a black teenager. The police officer involved in the shooting has been cleared of any wrong doing and the father of the slain teenager is leading a protest. The SRU is trying to escort the police officer out of the building to the airport when they are confronted by the protesters. Notably, there a number of protesters who are covering their faces and waving around pipes and wrenches while chanting at the police. And right there, RIGHT THERE, is the moment where I am done with this show. A 6 man team walks out into a crowd of people where there are a number of people wearing masks and brandishing clubs. I am sorry, but this is bullshit. People in masks, waving steel pipes around, are not protesting. They are looking to do damage. The protest is over. Riot squad moves in, deploys tear gas, and arrests people.
From that point, the show had lost me. Everything from that moment just pissed me off more. The pissy judgement directed from the SRU to the way the riot squad is handling the "protestors", the fact that Spike is just hanging out in his Suburban in the middle of this riot until the rioters notice him, the monumental flip-flop of Hugh Dillon's wife from SRU-hating shrew-harpie hybrid to the SRU's biggest cheerleader.
Erased from the PVR and all future recordings cancelled. Flashpoint, you are dead to me. Sorry Dawn.
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
Those douchebag tennis players on the latest Tim Hortons commercials. Why is the Tim Hortons advertising world populated with nothing but mentally deficient jack knobs? Why does hawking your product require representing your customer base as a bunch of retards? Seems a little counter productive.
And tennis? Does anybody actually play tennis anymore? I know I don't so I can only assume that nobody else does either. Fucking weirdos.
Friday, 8 July 2011
Woman elbows man in the middle of the night. Woman complains to man that he is snoring too loud and tells him to roll over and face the other direction. Man complies. Man tries to go back to sleep but can not because woman is SNORING TOO LOUD!
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Seems to be easing off now. But this year has been ridiculous. This is my fourth viral infection in the past 6 months. Jen claims it's more like 8 but that one cough lasted 3 weeks so I think she's double or triple counting that one.
I just don't understand what's changed. I'm usually good for one cold and one flu each year but no more. It's really bugging me how I'm getting this exposure. It's not like I'm working with the public, handling money or credit cards, interacting with a wide variety of strangers day in and day out. Yet, here I am sick again. Something has changed. Something that's changed in the past 6 months. Hmmmm....
Sunday, 3 July 2011
This was also going to be the first run with the new truck. Loading was a breeze. Backed right onto the front yard, slid in the kayak and lashed her down to the easily accessible tie-downs. Boom. Done. So much easier than dicking around with that trailer.
So everything packed up and away I go. Last year was a real disappointment with surrounding "lakes". This time I'd selected the Belwood Conservation Area. A man-made lake at the head of the Grand River past Fergus. A five dollar entrance fee but what the heck. Got there around 9:30 and it wasn't too busy. Lots of parking and an easy spot to launch the kayak. Slid everything out, loaded up the kayak and then.... then I realized I had never renewed my fishing license. Crap.
So, this is where gadgets really come in handy. Got online with my phone and renewed my license right there at the lake. I didn't have any physical proof of my new license but if I did get hassled, at least I could pull out my phone and show the electronic version that I purchased that morning.
Finally, into the water. And Belwood is a pretty nice lake for Southern Ontario. Lots of structure, a deep bay that's free from the recreational boaters, a setting that's just made for bass fishing. Just no actual fish. I was out there for three hours. Not a bite. I saw one little perch chase one of my spoons. That's it. I talked to one of the boaters and they said they were spotting lots of fish closer to the middle of the bay but no actual bites. That's fishing. Sometimes they're just not into eating.
Next time I'll get my ass in gear a little earlier. It wasn't too busy when I got there but it was a freaking zoo when I came off the water around 12:30. Again, couldn't be happier with the truck. Loaded up and out of there in minutes.
So, no fish but still a great way to spend a couple hours on a sunny day in the summer. I'll definitely come back to Belwood too. The fish are there, just have to figure out a better approach.
Saturday, 2 July 2011
So here is my list of top 5 places to avoid shopping at on a Saturday:
5. Zehrs - I've recently gone over how inconsiderate some people are when grocery shopping. It's all the same on a Saturday, just more dick heads out shopping.
4. Canadian Tire - I can't count the number of times I've driven into a Canadian Tire parking lot and not even bothered pulling into a spot and worked my way right back out of the parking lot. Just a zoo on a Saturday.
3. Walmart - I hate this place any day of the week. Ruining my Saturday is just a little extra "fuck you" from the friendly folks at Walmart.
2. Costco - Have a Costco membership? Feel like shopping at Costco on a Saturday? Do yourself a favour and just get somebody to run over you with their car instead. It's not worth it, seriously. From the parking lot, to the oversized shopping carts, to the horde of retards shopping there, to the ridiculous lines. Just don't bother.
1. Ikea - This place is a rude collection of cheapskate yuppies during the week. On Saturday, it is hell on earth. Abandon all hope before entering. If you find yourself at an Ikea on a Saturday, you need to stop and really think about what's wrong with your life that it has lead you to this cluster fuck of a store on this unholiest of days. I'm crying just thinking about it.
Every time I look at her I wonder what I've done to deserve this happiness. I don't wonder too much unless I jinx it. I'm a lucky guy and I'm doing my damndest to make her feel half as lucky. Yup.
Thursday, 30 June 2011
- Wake up just after midnight in coughing fit, find girlfriend has already left for spare room -> grumpy
- Alarm goes off at 5:00 am -> very grumpy
- Favourite breakfast of eggs over easy on real toast -> slightly grumpy
- At work drinking my favourite coffee -> satisfied
- Meeting with Loctite rep, reviews parts assembly, shows that primer should be used with loctite we're using, solves mystery of parts coming apart -> relief
- Realization that I could have solved problem a year ago by just talking to the guy -> suicidal tendencies
- Read literature find out I was right and rep was wrong -> ecstasy!
- Still have problem with parts, talk to assembler, find out he's been using the wrong loctite altogether -> rage!
- Contemplating shit storm to come with product recalls and field campaigns -> complete and utter depression
That was all before 10:00 am. I'm hoping for an upswing at noon with a tuna fish sandwich from the deli. If they don't have tuna, I may just spend the afternoon sucking on an argo tailpipe.
No tuna fish sandwich. Fuck. It's only been a 3 day work week and I've absolutely had it. Yah, a long weekend sounds pretty good right now.
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
Monday night, as the sickness was really taking hold, I took my sniveling corpse to the spare bedroom. I fell instantly asleep and was soon in a very real life type dream. In this dream I woke up, still sick, and went to work. Straight to work. No additional clothing. Just hopped in the truck and went off to work in my gitch and t-shirt.
Sat down at my desk, drank my coffee, surfed the web, then went out to the shop floor to see how things were progressing. No one mentioned my lack of pants. Talked with the mechanics for a few minutes then fell forward, flat on my face, as I seemed to have passed out. I could still hear people around me though. There were many conversations, some involving my situation, some not. I remember the safety lady saying "Oh dear, he's twitching, we'll have to get him home".
Apparently they called my brother and my girlfriend as emergency contacts because they are the ones that got me home and up the stairs to the spare bedroom. Then they started renovating the room beside me and tore down the outside wall. And then my brother started hitting golf balls out the new hole in my house, off the second floor and into the neighbourhood behind me. Except he wasn't MY brother anymore. At some point he had transformed into the older brother from Everybody Loves Raymond.
And then I woke up. And I was honestly confused as to whether I had actually gone in to work already that morning. Checking my phone and seeing that it was only 6:00 am, put me at ease that I hadn't gone into work wearing only my underwear and that my brother wasn't Brad Garrett. Yah, I was pretty sure I was going to stay home that morning.
Interpretations of this dream are welcome in the comment section below. Thank you for listening.
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
Don't let the door hit you on the way out!
I may actually watch TSN broadcasts next year. More importantly, I may actually LISTEN to a TSN broadcast. It's such a relief that I won't be scrambling for the mute button next year.
Being a public figure probably isn't that easy. I'm sure he's a nice guy off air. I wish him all the best with NBC. Just don't ever come back.
Thanks to Dawn for forwarding the good news!
The only bad thing I can say about it (other than the visible penises) is that it's only 10 episodes long for the first season. Home sick today and I could have used at least 5 more episodes. That's the problem with burning through a season so quickly. You're all amped up and wanting more but now I've got to wait until next year to see how these stories progress. More than likely the stress will be too much and I'll end up reading the books the series is based on. Ah well, good stories are good stories. Just feeling a little starved for good TV right now.