I wrote a couple of days ago about one failed invention idea that i had. Here is another.
I thought, wouldn't it be amazing to get up every morning and have fresh pancakes made without the hassle of having to dirty up a frying pan? My idea was to create a toaster that was also a pancake maker. You would pour the batter into the upright toaster, and then it would make pancakes for you just like that!
Unfortunately, when i shared this idea with someone, they said, "That's amazing! And then you could turn it on its side, and call it a waffle iron!!!".
Sarcasm hurts, people. It hurts.
However, i did come up with the idea to have a spout for syrup and butter, and you would pour that into the upright device. The pancakes would actually be injected with both butter and syrup, contained in the centre!
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
ATTENTION TJ O'MALLEY OF THE FUTURE
When i was a kid, i thought that i was smart. I was actually very smart back then, with respect to grades and stuff. I'm not as smart now. I figured that i would become a physicist one day, and probably invent a time machine. At the very least, i assumed that if i were a physicist, i might have access to a time machine that someone else had invented. That was my dream (see yesterday's post).
Being the forethinking individual that i was at the age of 10, i began hiding time capsules and secret messages in various places. I went down to the creek across the street and buried a glass bottle that contained a few items (Star Wars guy, cub scout whistle, battery, etc) and a note. I suppose that i thought these items might come in handy in the future. I also hid sealed notes in various secreted places in my parent's house. These were always notes to myself in the future. They typically read like this:
ATTENTION TJ O'MALLEY OF THE FUTURE:
This is TJ O'Malley of the past, aged 10.
It is URGENT and of GREAT IMPORTANCE that you travel to the past and show me that time travel is possible.
There is a time capsule across the street under the big oak tree. Dig it up and bring the items within to prove that
it is really you (me) and not an impostor trying to disrupt the timeline.
Don't worry about causing a temporal paradox, as i swear i won't tell anyone.
Awaiting your appearance,
TJ O'Malley (age 10), Dated: June 15th 1980
Too much Doctor Who, i know...
Anyway, i know that is ridiculous. The creek across the street was eventually torn up for a new subdivision, so that buried time capsule is long gone. Knowing me, i hid the notes in the house so well that they'll never be found, and the house will be torn down in 100 years anyway, notes and all.
The whole thing was preposterous. There was no way those stupid notes or time capsules would ever be found...however, we all know that this blog and the internet will exist for years & years to come, so...ATTENTION TJ O'MALLEY OF THE FUTURE...
Being the forethinking individual that i was at the age of 10, i began hiding time capsules and secret messages in various places. I went down to the creek across the street and buried a glass bottle that contained a few items (Star Wars guy, cub scout whistle, battery, etc) and a note. I suppose that i thought these items might come in handy in the future. I also hid sealed notes in various secreted places in my parent's house. These were always notes to myself in the future. They typically read like this:
ATTENTION TJ O'MALLEY OF THE FUTURE:
This is TJ O'Malley of the past, aged 10.
It is URGENT and of GREAT IMPORTANCE that you travel to the past and show me that time travel is possible.
There is a time capsule across the street under the big oak tree. Dig it up and bring the items within to prove that
it is really you (me) and not an impostor trying to disrupt the timeline.
Don't worry about causing a temporal paradox, as i swear i won't tell anyone.
Awaiting your appearance,
TJ O'Malley (age 10), Dated: June 15th 1980
Too much Doctor Who, i know...
Anyway, i know that is ridiculous. The creek across the street was eventually torn up for a new subdivision, so that buried time capsule is long gone. Knowing me, i hid the notes in the house so well that they'll never be found, and the house will be torn down in 100 years anyway, notes and all.
The whole thing was preposterous. There was no way those stupid notes or time capsules would ever be found...however, we all know that this blog and the internet will exist for years & years to come, so...ATTENTION TJ O'MALLEY OF THE FUTURE...
Monday, July 30, 2007
Scariest dream EVER
Some people like to talk about their dreams. I don't like to talk about my dreams. I was once dumped for not talking about my hopes and dreams (i didn't know that i was supposed to after 3 weeks...). I'd like to explain why it's generally a bad idea for me to talk about my dreams. The best way is to describe a typical dream. I don't always remember them, but i recall this one from the other night.
I was in a city somewhere, fairly large. I was walking down the street. Suddenly, a crack opened in the sky and these space tornadoes came down. There were dozens of them. They were these small but powerful cyclone things, and they were picking up cars, people, phone booths, and just chucking them around. I ran down the street and found a nuclear bomb shelter, and managed to get inside before the giant doors closed. A guy inside said, "we only have enough food and water for a few of us, so you have to go and shut the blast doors". The blast doors were these giant metal doors that swung down, and then were supposed to keep nuclear bombs (and people) out. I shut them, but forgot to lock the bottom part, and all of a sudden, all of these people started coming in through the bottom of the doors. Of course, the people weren't people, but zombies. I began to attack them with a magic sword. After they were all disposed of, i locked the door properly and went back into the shelter. Unfortunately, somehow giant wolves had got inside too, and that's when i woke up.
This dream pretty much had the power of 4 or 5 horror movies rolled into one. Here, imagine all these images at once and see if you don't feel the horror:
That's pretty much why i don't talk about my dreams. My "hopes" would be that people don't ask me about my dreams.
I was in a city somewhere, fairly large. I was walking down the street. Suddenly, a crack opened in the sky and these space tornadoes came down. There were dozens of them. They were these small but powerful cyclone things, and they were picking up cars, people, phone booths, and just chucking them around. I ran down the street and found a nuclear bomb shelter, and managed to get inside before the giant doors closed. A guy inside said, "we only have enough food and water for a few of us, so you have to go and shut the blast doors". The blast doors were these giant metal doors that swung down, and then were supposed to keep nuclear bombs (and people) out. I shut them, but forgot to lock the bottom part, and all of a sudden, all of these people started coming in through the bottom of the doors. Of course, the people weren't people, but zombies. I began to attack them with a magic sword. After they were all disposed of, i locked the door properly and went back into the shelter. Unfortunately, somehow giant wolves had got inside too, and that's when i woke up.
This dream pretty much had the power of 4 or 5 horror movies rolled into one. Here, imagine all these images at once and see if you don't feel the horror:
That's pretty much why i don't talk about my dreams. My "hopes" would be that people don't ask me about my dreams.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Nunchucks
If there's one thing all guys have in common, it's the fact that we all wish that we could handle nunchucks better than we actually can. That's not a euphemism for anything, by the way. Seriously, even you dudes who are going, "what, i don't care about nunchucks, what??" are not telling the truth. Tell me that you wouldn't like to be able to spin those babies around, whizzing within mere centimeters of your head. Just try to tell me that. You can't.
Here, i'll put this picture up so we can all feel better:
I bet this guy wishes he was better at nunchucks, and other stuff...
Here, i'll put this picture up so we can all feel better:
I bet this guy wishes he was better at nunchucks, and other stuff...
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Short post to go with the long post: i put EXTRA garlic in my foil wrapped veggies tonight. They're cooking right now on the BBQ.
Oh and Kyoko and Glen have a very nice old house in Hamilton, which i stayed at last night. I would like to publicly thank them for their hospitality. Also their cat is very nice.
Oh and Kyoko and Glen have a very nice old house in Hamilton, which i stayed at last night. I would like to publicly thank them for their hospitality. Also their cat is very nice.
Van Halen
I remember when i was a kid, we used to on occasion have the priest over for dinner. We were for the most part a very religious family (5/6ths of us - that ratio has probably dropped somewhat over the years). Once in a while, we'd have the priest from our church over for dinner. He was a pretty nice guy, old fashioned, and fairly funny at times. He was always very good to us kids when we were young.
We had him over one time when both my brother and myself had just had our birthdays, as well as our mother. My brother had just got some cassette tapes for his birthday, Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and also Van Halen's "1984". The tapes were sitting out on the dining room table, where we were to eat.
To make the rest of this story clear, i suppose i should show the album cover for "1984". The story will make more sense this way.
You can see that while this album cover is humorous, it is also quite sacreligious. We sat down for dinner and our priest started talking about the upcoming church picnic, about the games and stuff we'd be having at it. At this point i noticed that my brother had left the tapes in full view, and that the cherub with the cigarette was very prominent on the table. I think that maybe one of my sisters might even have mentioned that my brother had just had his birthday, and his presents were there on the table. I signaled to my brother about the album (brothers have all sorts of secret signals, in case you didn't know), and luckily he realized that there was satanic paraphenalia on the the table, and removed it promptly. Dinner was saved, and everything went on in a holy and wholesome fashion.
Of course this was the last good album that Van Halen ever made, and if you disagree with me on this, you are revealing to the world that you have no taste in music whatsoever, and all you say from this point on is null and void. I am usually strongly opinionated, but not THIS strongly opinionated, but come on. Van Hagar sucks. They went from being an all out crazy showmanship band with good raunchy tunes and wicked playing, to the worst top 40 act of boring unexciting proportions. I stand by this and if you push me on it, it may come to fisticuffs.
By the way, if you notice spelling errors in my posts, you should know that blogger does seem to have some sort of spell checker, but it doesn't seem to give me the correct spelling of words. Words like "paraphenalia".
We had him over one time when both my brother and myself had just had our birthdays, as well as our mother. My brother had just got some cassette tapes for his birthday, Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and also Van Halen's "1984". The tapes were sitting out on the dining room table, where we were to eat.
To make the rest of this story clear, i suppose i should show the album cover for "1984". The story will make more sense this way.
You can see that while this album cover is humorous, it is also quite sacreligious. We sat down for dinner and our priest started talking about the upcoming church picnic, about the games and stuff we'd be having at it. At this point i noticed that my brother had left the tapes in full view, and that the cherub with the cigarette was very prominent on the table. I think that maybe one of my sisters might even have mentioned that my brother had just had his birthday, and his presents were there on the table. I signaled to my brother about the album (brothers have all sorts of secret signals, in case you didn't know), and luckily he realized that there was satanic paraphenalia on the the table, and removed it promptly. Dinner was saved, and everything went on in a holy and wholesome fashion.
Of course this was the last good album that Van Halen ever made, and if you disagree with me on this, you are revealing to the world that you have no taste in music whatsoever, and all you say from this point on is null and void. I am usually strongly opinionated, but not THIS strongly opinionated, but come on. Van Hagar sucks. They went from being an all out crazy showmanship band with good raunchy tunes and wicked playing, to the worst top 40 act of boring unexciting proportions. I stand by this and if you push me on it, it may come to fisticuffs.
By the way, if you notice spelling errors in my posts, you should know that blogger does seem to have some sort of spell checker, but it doesn't seem to give me the correct spelling of words. Words like "paraphenalia".
Friday, July 27, 2007
A failed invention...
I told this story last night, so i think i will repeat it here.
Years ago, my friend Nash and i were working at a crappy office job in Guelph. We would bike to work every day, bring our lunches, etc. We used to make tuna sandwiches for lunch, and we came up with this INCREDIBLE sauce to put on them. It was made by mixing two fairly common condiments together, items that you may very well have in your own fridge at home!
I remember we experimented with what the ratio should be for the items involved. We also thought that maybe we could market this somehow, and sell it. It was that good. We also decided that we should keep it a secret - it was such a simple concept, and we didn't want anyone stealing our idea.
We took these sandwiches with the thing we called the "ultra-condiment" to work every day, and were very secretive about it all. We would eat our lunches the way prisoners do, hiding the food from others.
One day one of the women we worked with asked us why we ate our lunches in such a strange way. We decided, for some unknown reason, to spill the secret to her. I said, "well, we invented this new condiment to make tuna sandwiches with and it's REALLY GOOD". She was intrigued, so figuring we could trust her, we told her the names of the two items involved.
To which she said, "Oh, you mean DIJONAISE?"
I said, "Hey, that's a GREAT idea! What a good name!"
She said, "No, you moron, DIJONAISE. It's already a marketted product, you can buy it at the supermarket, it's made by Hellman's."
That's right. The secret ingredients were of course Dijon mustard and mayonaisse. It turned out we actually had not invented anything new. Our place in the hallowed refridgerator of condiment history had been swapped - we were now but a dirty, empty jar, sitting in the sink of shame.
I do contend, though, that ours was MUCH better than storebought dijonaise because we used Grey Poupon Dijon mustard. This is the KING of dijons, possibly of mustards. Nothing else compares. Don't try and tout your President's Choice Grainy Dijon, or anything else like that. Grey Poupon is truly the king. Hell, it even has the classiest jar! In fact, if i were a rapper and needed a handle, i would call myself Grey Poupon just to honour it.
Oh boy, what a mustard...
Years ago, my friend Nash and i were working at a crappy office job in Guelph. We would bike to work every day, bring our lunches, etc. We used to make tuna sandwiches for lunch, and we came up with this INCREDIBLE sauce to put on them. It was made by mixing two fairly common condiments together, items that you may very well have in your own fridge at home!
I remember we experimented with what the ratio should be for the items involved. We also thought that maybe we could market this somehow, and sell it. It was that good. We also decided that we should keep it a secret - it was such a simple concept, and we didn't want anyone stealing our idea.
We took these sandwiches with the thing we called the "ultra-condiment" to work every day, and were very secretive about it all. We would eat our lunches the way prisoners do, hiding the food from others.
One day one of the women we worked with asked us why we ate our lunches in such a strange way. We decided, for some unknown reason, to spill the secret to her. I said, "well, we invented this new condiment to make tuna sandwiches with and it's REALLY GOOD". She was intrigued, so figuring we could trust her, we told her the names of the two items involved.
To which she said, "Oh, you mean DIJONAISE?"
I said, "Hey, that's a GREAT idea! What a good name!"
She said, "No, you moron, DIJONAISE. It's already a marketted product, you can buy it at the supermarket, it's made by Hellman's."
That's right. The secret ingredients were of course Dijon mustard and mayonaisse. It turned out we actually had not invented anything new. Our place in the hallowed refridgerator of condiment history had been swapped - we were now but a dirty, empty jar, sitting in the sink of shame.
I do contend, though, that ours was MUCH better than storebought dijonaise because we used Grey Poupon Dijon mustard. This is the KING of dijons, possibly of mustards. Nothing else compares. Don't try and tout your President's Choice Grainy Dijon, or anything else like that. Grey Poupon is truly the king. Hell, it even has the classiest jar! In fact, if i were a rapper and needed a handle, i would call myself Grey Poupon just to honour it.
Oh boy, what a mustard...
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Dogs in the morning, dogs in the evening
Dogs. People love their dogs. I understand this. I am not so much a dog lover myself, but i respect that people love their pets very much.
What i do not love, though, is people who put their barking dogs outside til all hours, and then again very early the next day. There are a few people in my neighborhood who do this. Last night i think that one dog was out on a front lawn barking until well after midnight, and this morning i was awakened around 5:30 by another barking dog.
A few years ago i lived in a house where the next door neighbor had a couple of dogs. She would leave these dogs outside for rough 15-20 hours a day, i would estimate. There wasn't much shade for the dogs and they were miserable. They would bark at everything that went by - cars, bikes, kids, birds, ants, etc. In other words, they were ALWAYS barking. Always. She would let them into the house around 2 am (after she got home from god knows where while her 13 and 10 year old kids were left at home alone), and put them back out around 6 am. This happened pretty much every night for quite a while. Finally, myself and one of the roommates talked it over, and he agreed to go over and talk to her. He'd been living there for some time and was sick of it. He very politely said to her, "would it be too much trouble if we could ask that your dogs are kept inside from 11 pm at night until about 8 am the next day? They bark a lot and it keeps us awake next door, and we have to get up for our jobs." She made an excuse, saying that the dogs barked because they needed to get fixed, and would be fixed in a month or two. He then reminded her that they'd actually had the exact same conversation 2 years earlier, and she'd said the exact same thing at the time. She got very indignant at this point, and said, "well, i own my house, you only rent that one, so i can do whatever i want". My roommate then told her that if the dogs were out late or early again, we would be calling the police and possibly the humane society. She told him to eff off.
Sure enough, she tried to play the tough guy, and put her dogs out that day. At midnight, we called the police. They showed up and she was not home. Her kids were. The police came back in the morning when she was there and talked to her about a couple of things, including the dogs. After that, she wasn't so macho about it with us. The dogs were in by 11 and not out until 8 or 9 am. Eventually that harpy moved out east to do a masters in Scottish studies, abandoning her kids to fend for themselves here with their estranged father.
I am hoping that in my new neighborhood, this is not going to be the norm. If it is, something will have to be said.
My solution to this whole thing is very simple. Shock collars. They're very easy to use. The deliver a painful shock to the neck every time the dog barks. I figure that if you put one of these on the owner's neck, or perhaps crotch, every time their poor dog barked to be let in, they'd get the message loud and clear.
What i do not love, though, is people who put their barking dogs outside til all hours, and then again very early the next day. There are a few people in my neighborhood who do this. Last night i think that one dog was out on a front lawn barking until well after midnight, and this morning i was awakened around 5:30 by another barking dog.
A few years ago i lived in a house where the next door neighbor had a couple of dogs. She would leave these dogs outside for rough 15-20 hours a day, i would estimate. There wasn't much shade for the dogs and they were miserable. They would bark at everything that went by - cars, bikes, kids, birds, ants, etc. In other words, they were ALWAYS barking. Always. She would let them into the house around 2 am (after she got home from god knows where while her 13 and 10 year old kids were left at home alone), and put them back out around 6 am. This happened pretty much every night for quite a while. Finally, myself and one of the roommates talked it over, and he agreed to go over and talk to her. He'd been living there for some time and was sick of it. He very politely said to her, "would it be too much trouble if we could ask that your dogs are kept inside from 11 pm at night until about 8 am the next day? They bark a lot and it keeps us awake next door, and we have to get up for our jobs." She made an excuse, saying that the dogs barked because they needed to get fixed, and would be fixed in a month or two. He then reminded her that they'd actually had the exact same conversation 2 years earlier, and she'd said the exact same thing at the time. She got very indignant at this point, and said, "well, i own my house, you only rent that one, so i can do whatever i want". My roommate then told her that if the dogs were out late or early again, we would be calling the police and possibly the humane society. She told him to eff off.
Sure enough, she tried to play the tough guy, and put her dogs out that day. At midnight, we called the police. They showed up and she was not home. Her kids were. The police came back in the morning when she was there and talked to her about a couple of things, including the dogs. After that, she wasn't so macho about it with us. The dogs were in by 11 and not out until 8 or 9 am. Eventually that harpy moved out east to do a masters in Scottish studies, abandoning her kids to fend for themselves here with their estranged father.
I am hoping that in my new neighborhood, this is not going to be the norm. If it is, something will have to be said.
My solution to this whole thing is very simple. Shock collars. They're very easy to use. The deliver a painful shock to the neck every time the dog barks. I figure that if you put one of these on the owner's neck, or perhaps crotch, every time their poor dog barked to be let in, they'd get the message loud and clear.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Spidey hallowe'en?
One year for Hallowe'en i would like to dress up as some sort of Spider-Man. I haven't done it for a very long time (i'm sure you've all seen this picture before).
I don't know that i should be wearing any sort of unitard anytime soon (i can moderate your comments so think wisely when you choose your words), but i would like to do SOME kind of Spider-Man costume.
Here are some options that i came up with:
-dress as the really crappy Spidey from the first movie, where his costume was made from old tracksuits, markers and stuff.
-dress as the "my spidey sense is tingling" version of Peter Parker. Here, i 'll show you what i mean:
-lose weight and get in really good shape and wear the unitard
I doubt option 3 is the most likely candidate, sadly. I know that sounds like a loser's attitude, but so be it. Actually maybe i should have a Spider-Man party sometime, where EVERYONE has to dress as Spidey. Then we all go downtown and storm it with webs, wallclimbing and stuff.
I think that's pretty much my idea of heaven.
I don't know that i should be wearing any sort of unitard anytime soon (i can moderate your comments so think wisely when you choose your words), but i would like to do SOME kind of Spider-Man costume.
Here are some options that i came up with:
-dress as the really crappy Spidey from the first movie, where his costume was made from old tracksuits, markers and stuff.
-dress as the "my spidey sense is tingling" version of Peter Parker. Here, i 'll show you what i mean:
-lose weight and get in really good shape and wear the unitard
I doubt option 3 is the most likely candidate, sadly. I know that sounds like a loser's attitude, but so be it. Actually maybe i should have a Spider-Man party sometime, where EVERYONE has to dress as Spidey. Then we all go downtown and storm it with webs, wallclimbing and stuff.
I think that's pretty much my idea of heaven.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Comic Creationism
I bought a book the other day on writing for comic books. As anyone who has sampled 3 posts from here would guess, i like superhero comics and comics in general. I'm not one of those readers who feels they have to explain that they only like "modern" comics that don't deal with superhero themes. I'm simply not that hip(ster). I loves my caped flying crusaders - i just also happen to like the whole idea behind the medium, and like reading anything in comic form.
I know a lot of people say this, but i sincerely have no idea how the writers do it, good or bad. I don't understand how they come up with their ideas, and how they then flesh them out into real stories. It's the same with novels. I am sure that i could write a book that was based entirely on my observations on stuff, or about my own experiences - this blog has probably indicated that - but i cannot imagine how people can create an entire world and generate characters and stories within it.
It helps if you read "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay". It helps if you read those books on comic theory by Scott McLeod. It helps, but it doesn't tell you exactly HOW to create...i guess that has to come from inside you somehow, like anything else that involves creating art.
That is why i bought that book. I want to see what the author has to say about all of this. I imagine that the first thing they'll start with is the age old "where do your ideas come from" question that i've mentioned above. I have a fairly broad understanding of the world of superheroes and their role in comicdom. It's pretty much been a life long study. I can explain why, for example, it makes sense to base the Justice League of America on the Greek Gods. Or why there was a huge explosion of characters during the early days of the atomic age. But i don't get how they make it all up.
I wish i did.
I know a lot of people say this, but i sincerely have no idea how the writers do it, good or bad. I don't understand how they come up with their ideas, and how they then flesh them out into real stories. It's the same with novels. I am sure that i could write a book that was based entirely on my observations on stuff, or about my own experiences - this blog has probably indicated that - but i cannot imagine how people can create an entire world and generate characters and stories within it.
It helps if you read "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay". It helps if you read those books on comic theory by Scott McLeod. It helps, but it doesn't tell you exactly HOW to create...i guess that has to come from inside you somehow, like anything else that involves creating art.
That is why i bought that book. I want to see what the author has to say about all of this. I imagine that the first thing they'll start with is the age old "where do your ideas come from" question that i've mentioned above. I have a fairly broad understanding of the world of superheroes and their role in comicdom. It's pretty much been a life long study. I can explain why, for example, it makes sense to base the Justice League of America on the Greek Gods. Or why there was a huge explosion of characters during the early days of the atomic age. But i don't get how they make it all up.
I wish i did.
Transcendental Burger Blues
I wonder if this has happened to some of you before.
You're in a restaurant that you've not been to for a while, for example, the Yellow Griffin pub in Toronto. This place has a very big burger menu, as i've written before on here. All varieties of toppings and styles.
You're looking forward to one particular type of meal, but for some unknown reason, you accidentally name THE WRONG ONE. So, instead of the Stilton Walnut burger, say, you name the Waldorf Astoria burger.
The wrong burger - though technically, it's the right one - shows up, and you realize your error. It's your fault entirely, in some unconscious way, and you now have to eat the wrong meal.
This is a tough thing - you had your heart and stomach set on one type of meal, but for some weird slip of the mind, you order the wrong one.
Of course, the Waldorf burger IS a good one, but it doesn't have Stilton Cheese, roasted garlic and walnuts on it...
Oh well.
You're in a restaurant that you've not been to for a while, for example, the Yellow Griffin pub in Toronto. This place has a very big burger menu, as i've written before on here. All varieties of toppings and styles.
You're looking forward to one particular type of meal, but for some unknown reason, you accidentally name THE WRONG ONE. So, instead of the Stilton Walnut burger, say, you name the Waldorf Astoria burger.
The wrong burger - though technically, it's the right one - shows up, and you realize your error. It's your fault entirely, in some unconscious way, and you now have to eat the wrong meal.
This is a tough thing - you had your heart and stomach set on one type of meal, but for some weird slip of the mind, you order the wrong one.
Of course, the Waldorf burger IS a good one, but it doesn't have Stilton Cheese, roasted garlic and walnuts on it...
Oh well.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Oshawa here i come
Tonight (depending on when this gets posted) the Barmitzvah Brothers are going to play at the Velvet Elvis in Oshawa. It occurred to me that i've never played Oshawa. I grew up (!) in Whitby, which is directly next to Oshawa. I've also never played in Whitby. Or Ajax. Or Pickering. Or anywhere else in the Durham region, i don't believe. Essentially, i've never played my hometown, or anywhere next to it.
This is a bit odd because i've played a lot of other towns and cities over the years. I think this might have to do with the fact that for years, there was virtually nowhere that was any good to play in any of those towns. When i grew up in Whitby, there might have been a pizza parlour that had music, and the one pub downtown had a guy who played with a drum machine and acoustic guitar (and not in the "cool" way that you indie kids are thinking).
I only knew one or two guys in bands back then. The best band was probably a band called "the Missing Link", when i was like 15. The singer was my old camp councillor, who didn't look like the kind of guy to front a crazy punk band. Later, there was "Kurse", they were a thrash metal band who could play really fast and well, and i saw them a few times at a pizza place and in Dave Curry's basement (the superfast crazy guitarist). My friends and i used to jam a bit in the basement (Vince, Cal and myself), but at that time, i REALLY had no idea what i was doing, or how to play. We would just learn Ramones tunes (fun) or Tragically Hip songs (not my choice there...) and play them with no singer.
The only real independant show that i remember going to back then was at an all ages home in Pickering. A bunch of punk bands (Missing Link, Suburban Underground, and either The Elephants or 5 foot Nothing) had somehow suckered an old age home into renting them their hall. I don't know what they told them, but clearly they didn't say, "hey, we're going to make tons of noise, and have a lot of violent drunk teenagers trash the place". That's pretty much what happened. I recall that my friends and i made our escape just as the cops were showing up and gettin' jiggy wit it. Spidersense pays off sometimes. But really, that's one of the only real musical things that i remember going on back then in the Durham region. I'm sure it's different now.
There just wasn't a lot of music going on around those parts then. It's not like it was hiding somewhere and we couldn't find it. It just wasn't there. There was a club (the Playground) that opened in Whitby when i was in grade 10 or so, and it was supposed to be a new wave/punk/etc hangout. They *may* have had bands there, but i can't recall. It was supposed to be this cool underground club. Once i almost went there with my then girlfriend, but we got to the door and realized we weren't wearing enough black, or dressed trendy enough, and turned around and walked home.
This is a bit odd because i've played a lot of other towns and cities over the years. I think this might have to do with the fact that for years, there was virtually nowhere that was any good to play in any of those towns. When i grew up in Whitby, there might have been a pizza parlour that had music, and the one pub downtown had a guy who played with a drum machine and acoustic guitar (and not in the "cool" way that you indie kids are thinking).
I only knew one or two guys in bands back then. The best band was probably a band called "the Missing Link", when i was like 15. The singer was my old camp councillor, who didn't look like the kind of guy to front a crazy punk band. Later, there was "Kurse", they were a thrash metal band who could play really fast and well, and i saw them a few times at a pizza place and in Dave Curry's basement (the superfast crazy guitarist). My friends and i used to jam a bit in the basement (Vince, Cal and myself), but at that time, i REALLY had no idea what i was doing, or how to play. We would just learn Ramones tunes (fun) or Tragically Hip songs (not my choice there...) and play them with no singer.
The only real independant show that i remember going to back then was at an all ages home in Pickering. A bunch of punk bands (Missing Link, Suburban Underground, and either The Elephants or 5 foot Nothing) had somehow suckered an old age home into renting them their hall. I don't know what they told them, but clearly they didn't say, "hey, we're going to make tons of noise, and have a lot of violent drunk teenagers trash the place". That's pretty much what happened. I recall that my friends and i made our escape just as the cops were showing up and gettin' jiggy wit it. Spidersense pays off sometimes. But really, that's one of the only real musical things that i remember going on back then in the Durham region. I'm sure it's different now.
There just wasn't a lot of music going on around those parts then. It's not like it was hiding somewhere and we couldn't find it. It just wasn't there. There was a club (the Playground) that opened in Whitby when i was in grade 10 or so, and it was supposed to be a new wave/punk/etc hangout. They *may* have had bands there, but i can't recall. It was supposed to be this cool underground club. Once i almost went there with my then girlfriend, but we got to the door and realized we weren't wearing enough black, or dressed trendy enough, and turned around and walked home.
Money money money
At lunch today Mr N and i were walking down the street. As usual.
A hagard looking woman and little girl walked by, and i overheard this part of the conversation, which seemed to be delivered in the manner that a grifter might impart some subtle secret to an apprentice*:
"Mommy's money is mommy's money. And daddy's paycheck is mommy's money."
Watch out, daddies!!!
I also saw a woman wearing lip liner. Outside of Goths and also certain sects in the Italian American community, i wasn't aware that anyone did this anymore. I feel like i've mentioned this one before...
*i don't know that grifters take apprentices. I'm just guessing.
A hagard looking woman and little girl walked by, and i overheard this part of the conversation, which seemed to be delivered in the manner that a grifter might impart some subtle secret to an apprentice*:
"Mommy's money is mommy's money. And daddy's paycheck is mommy's money."
Watch out, daddies!!!
I also saw a woman wearing lip liner. Outside of Goths and also certain sects in the Italian American community, i wasn't aware that anyone did this anymore. I feel like i've mentioned this one before...
*i don't know that grifters take apprentices. I'm just guessing.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Eyebrow X
...and now for the short post (remember, i promised a short post for every long one a few days back).
My eyebrows are starting to get out of control. I hide them with big glasses but they are starting more and more to look like the old 1960s X-Men version of Professor X. Like this:
If my psychic powers develop any further than they already have, i guess that'll be a bonus.
My eyebrows are starting to get out of control. I hide them with big glasses but they are starting more and more to look like the old 1960s X-Men version of Professor X. Like this:
If my psychic powers develop any further than they already have, i guess that'll be a bonus.
Cereal adventures Part I
I wonder what it would take to invent a new type of breakfast cereal.
You could go the route of inventing something really gross, but original ie. Caesar Salad Cereal - now with marshmallow croutons!, but i don't think that would be a good idea.
I always thought "Weetabix" was a good idea, even though it was gross. That was the cereal that was basically one giant piece of shredded wheat. You would put it in a bowl and pour milk on it. It was kind of like eating a roll that got mushy. It really just tasted like a farmer had accidentally mixed his hay bales up with his wheat bales, and shipped them off to the cereal factory. I guess we all thought it was a good idea because it was big. Isn't life like that?
Don't even get me going on Cookie Crisp...
Based on my fondness for Sir Perry, i secretly hope that someone invents a pear flavored cereal.
I wonder if anyone has ever thought of combining coffee with cereal. By that, i mean somehow building the coffee into the cereal itself, rather than just pouring coffee on your corn flakes.
Another thing i don't understand - how, when and why did people start pouring milk on cereal? And do people in other countries put goat's milk or sheep's milk or tiger milk on cereal? I know i could probably go on wikipedia and find all this out, but sometimes half the fun is in the wondering.
I am also curious as to what the "origins" of our modern cereal are. I would assume that it is a direct descendant of mush or gruel, which i would assume was also a descendant of the type of sustenance that people in the middle ages used to eat when they couldn't get meat on a regular basis. Now cereal is so fancy and fun, but back then, it must have been fairly boring and unappetizing. Imagine if you could travel back in time to England, and had a bowl of Captain Crunch to a peasant. Boy, i bet they'd like that!
You could go the route of inventing something really gross, but original ie. Caesar Salad Cereal - now with marshmallow croutons!, but i don't think that would be a good idea.
I always thought "Weetabix" was a good idea, even though it was gross. That was the cereal that was basically one giant piece of shredded wheat. You would put it in a bowl and pour milk on it. It was kind of like eating a roll that got mushy. It really just tasted like a farmer had accidentally mixed his hay bales up with his wheat bales, and shipped them off to the cereal factory. I guess we all thought it was a good idea because it was big. Isn't life like that?
Don't even get me going on Cookie Crisp...
Based on my fondness for Sir Perry, i secretly hope that someone invents a pear flavored cereal.
I wonder if anyone has ever thought of combining coffee with cereal. By that, i mean somehow building the coffee into the cereal itself, rather than just pouring coffee on your corn flakes.
Another thing i don't understand - how, when and why did people start pouring milk on cereal? And do people in other countries put goat's milk or sheep's milk or tiger milk on cereal? I know i could probably go on wikipedia and find all this out, but sometimes half the fun is in the wondering.
I am also curious as to what the "origins" of our modern cereal are. I would assume that it is a direct descendant of mush or gruel, which i would assume was also a descendant of the type of sustenance that people in the middle ages used to eat when they couldn't get meat on a regular basis. Now cereal is so fancy and fun, but back then, it must have been fairly boring and unappetizing. Imagine if you could travel back in time to England, and had a bowl of Captain Crunch to a peasant. Boy, i bet they'd like that!
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Veggie burger party in my mouth
The short post for today: try the President's choice veggie burgers, the Portebello Swiss ones. Holy crap. Better than almost any other burger i've ever tried, meat, veggie or otherwise (?!). Delicious! It's like your favorite song coming on the radio, winning 100 bucks on a scratch lottery ticket and finding a 10 in your jeans that you wore last week, except all that happens in your mouth!
Post-wedding rap up
Well, i am back from the wedding festivities. My sister got married this past weekend, so i was in Toronto doing all sorts of things. Our family came up from the States, from all over, frankly. It was really nice.
I got to spend time with family that i don't normally see all that often. I went to the Science Centre with my cousin Michael II, his wife Barb and their boys Michael Jack, Ian, and Haden. I have to say, the new Kid's area they have there is great for kiddies. As long as you watch the entrance, none of your kids can escape to freedom. The boys loved it there. We tried to go to the regular areas of the Centre after, but frankly, those other places just aren't as fun if you're under the age of 10...
A lot of my mom's cousins and relatives came up for the wedding, and i think for some of them, it was their first time up here. It was great to see them all.
The rehearsal dinner was at my parent's favorite restaurant, Vitorio's, run by a whirlwind of a man named Chico. Chico is on top of it. He is one of those guys who rules the kitchen with an iron fist, but is also good to his staff, and fantastic to the customers. I think he made a good impression on my Uncle Michael. There was some sort of interaction between them, where Chico made a statement about bringing my uncle "potatoes, shepherd's pie, potatoes" from the back (my uncle isn't fond of Italian food, and i think let Chico know this). They had a good laugh over this and i think are friends now. The families had rented out the restaurant for the evening, and it was filled with family from both sides.
The wedding the next day was at the Park Hyatt in Toronto, in the ballroom. Everything went off without a hitch. They had hired a wedding planner for the event, a woman named Melissa. I can unhesitatingly say that if you're having a wedding that is going to be anything but small, hire a wedding planner. Every issue, every question, anything that comes up, that's the person you go to. I would imagine that it made everyone's life a lot easier, that's for sure.
I saw "Captain Amazing", aka the terrific actor Greg Kinnear (more known for his role in "As Good As It Gets" than his part in "Mystery Men"...) outside of the hotel, and some of the groomsmen saw the actors who play Job and George Michael from "Arrested Development" there too! I wish i saw Job.
My brother and i were the co-MC's and i think we did a good job - even if we did mention hanging our sister over the toilet upsidedown... All of the speeches were great - short, funny and touching. The food was great too.
I hope my sister Jessica and my new brother Paul have a great time on their honeymoon!
I got to spend time with family that i don't normally see all that often. I went to the Science Centre with my cousin Michael II, his wife Barb and their boys Michael Jack, Ian, and Haden. I have to say, the new Kid's area they have there is great for kiddies. As long as you watch the entrance, none of your kids can escape to freedom. The boys loved it there. We tried to go to the regular areas of the Centre after, but frankly, those other places just aren't as fun if you're under the age of 10...
A lot of my mom's cousins and relatives came up for the wedding, and i think for some of them, it was their first time up here. It was great to see them all.
The rehearsal dinner was at my parent's favorite restaurant, Vitorio's, run by a whirlwind of a man named Chico. Chico is on top of it. He is one of those guys who rules the kitchen with an iron fist, but is also good to his staff, and fantastic to the customers. I think he made a good impression on my Uncle Michael. There was some sort of interaction between them, where Chico made a statement about bringing my uncle "potatoes, shepherd's pie, potatoes" from the back (my uncle isn't fond of Italian food, and i think let Chico know this). They had a good laugh over this and i think are friends now. The families had rented out the restaurant for the evening, and it was filled with family from both sides.
The wedding the next day was at the Park Hyatt in Toronto, in the ballroom. Everything went off without a hitch. They had hired a wedding planner for the event, a woman named Melissa. I can unhesitatingly say that if you're having a wedding that is going to be anything but small, hire a wedding planner. Every issue, every question, anything that comes up, that's the person you go to. I would imagine that it made everyone's life a lot easier, that's for sure.
I saw "Captain Amazing", aka the terrific actor Greg Kinnear (more known for his role in "As Good As It Gets" than his part in "Mystery Men"...) outside of the hotel, and some of the groomsmen saw the actors who play Job and George Michael from "Arrested Development" there too! I wish i saw Job.
My brother and i were the co-MC's and i think we did a good job - even if we did mention hanging our sister over the toilet upsidedown... All of the speeches were great - short, funny and touching. The food was great too.
I hope my sister Jessica and my new brother Paul have a great time on their honeymoon!
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Goin' to the chapel
I will be out of town for the next few days. My sister gets married this weekend and so we have a lot of family coming up from the States, folks i don't get to see nearly as often as i'd like. I am going to hopefully go to the science centre with my cousin.
I doubt i will post much over the next few days but you never know.
I am in the wedding party and so i had to go try a tux on just now. It seemed to fit like any other monkey suit.
Bye!
I doubt i will post much over the next few days but you never know.
I am in the wedding party and so i had to go try a tux on just now. It seemed to fit like any other monkey suit.
Bye!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Sheets to the wind!
I've decided that some of my posts are getting really long here. I know that some folks don't like to read long stuff, or don't have the time. So maybe i need to balance things out - for every long post i write, maybe i have to write one very short one. That seems fair, somehow.
For some reason, i really hate it when the sheet comes of the mattress when you're sleeping. You know, a corner pops off, and then another one, and then you wake up lying on the mattress.
I know about fitted sheets. I know they're supposed to stay on better. Heck, the ones i put on the bed yesterday are long, they go way down the sides of the mattress. But i guess the size is slightly different (sort of like when you buy shoes - a size 12 is never the same from one brand to the next).
I don't know why it bugs me to wake up like that. It just does, i guess!
For some reason, i really hate it when the sheet comes of the mattress when you're sleeping. You know, a corner pops off, and then another one, and then you wake up lying on the mattress.
I know about fitted sheets. I know they're supposed to stay on better. Heck, the ones i put on the bed yesterday are long, they go way down the sides of the mattress. But i guess the size is slightly different (sort of like when you buy shoes - a size 12 is never the same from one brand to the next).
I don't know why it bugs me to wake up like that. It just does, i guess!
Bad Bass Buying Experience
Tags: Steve's Music sucks, rip off artists, annoying, liars.
The other day the name of a famous Toronto music store came up in conversation. I thought i might recount an experience that i had with that place about 12 years or so back.
I wanted to order a new bass. I had some money sitting aside, ready to order something good. At that point, i was playing a relatively shoddy instrument - the electronics were sketchy, there was buzz from the neck, etc. I had decided to order myself a quality instrument - something that both looked and sounded good. I was playing bass very regularly back then in Black Cabbage, as well as with other folks on recordings, etc.
I decided on an Ernie Ball Music Man Sterling. Most of the bassists i knew who played a Music Man played a Stingray model. I decided to go for the smaller more rounded Sterling. These basses were only available from some of the higher end music shops in bigger cities. I took a trip down to Steve's Music in Toronto, and talked to the guy who appeared to be running things. They had none of these basses on the shelves there, and the guy working there told me that i would have to order one in through them. In other words, i would put a down payment up, and then Steve's would order the bass from California. The guy working there said it could take up to a month for the bass to come in, but probably less time than that.
I put up 1/3 of the price of the bass ($500). I was told that i'd need to put down 10%, but i opted for more. I ordered a natural wood finish Sterling bass. I was very excited about it!
A month went by and i heard nothing. I called the store and gave my name, and asked about it. I was told "it should be here soon, don't worry".
Another month went by and still i'd heard nothing. I called Steve's Music again and made an inquiry. Once again, i was told "it should be here soon".
This continued off and on for another 10 months. 10 months. Not one month "at most", as promised. The entire time i was dealing with pretty much the same guy (who i assume was a boss there). I kept calling and getting the brush off. I would complain, to no avail. The guy kept saying things like, "oh it takes them a long time to make them at the factory" or "it's the factory that's holding things up, these are handmade instruments".
Right around this time, my buddy Fil (Flashlight Brown) decided he wanted the same bass, but in a different colour. He went in and placed an order for a Red Sterling. It came in within 2 weeks. Another friend Tammy (Cordoroy Leda) ordered a fretless Sterling. She had it in about 2 weeks, i recall. I called Steve's Music and asked, "what the hell is up with that?". The same guy explained that (get ready for it) it takes longer to make natural woodstained coloured basses than it does red ones. I asked "if they don't have to put any paint on it, why would it take longer???". The answer blamed the factory once again.
I was at my wit's end. I'd given them money - more than required -and was being told that i couldn't get that money back. I'd tried to get out of the deal, as i'd felt Steve's Music had not held up their promise, literally tenfold ("one month" had turned into 10 months).
Then i got a good idea.
Remember, this was 12 or 13 years ago - the internet was around, but few people used it or had access to it easily. My roommate Glen had a home computer with access to the 'net. I decided to find the Ernie Ball Music Man website. From there, i looked for some sort of contact name, someone i could write to via email. I actually created my first email account to do this.
I found the name of the guy in charge of Marketing, i believe. I wrote to him, and this is basically what i said (going from memory here, but it's pretty much the same):
"Dear Mr So and so,
I am a very big fan of your company and your instruments. I have a question for you, out of curiousity. Does it take longer to manufacture an all natural wood finished Sterling bass than a red one?
Curious,
TJ O'Malley"
The return message was something like this (again, i'm approximating here)
"Dear Mr O'Malley,
Thank you for the compliments to our company. It is an odd question you ask, but in answer, no, it does not take any longer, really. I am curious as to why you are asking this.
Mr So and so"
My return email went like this:
"Dear Mr So and so,
Well, to be honest, i am asking because 10 months ago i ordered a woodstained coloured Sterling bass into a music store in Toronto. I paid 1/3 of the price up front. I was told at that time that it would take no more than 1 month for it to come in. As mentioned, it has now been 10 months. I am not a rich man, so i cannot afford to give up my down payment, nor will the store let me back out of the deal in good faith.
By the way, when i have repeatedly inquired about the delay, i was told that it was the Music Man Factory's fault. I was also told that it takes longer to make a natural woodstained bass than a red one. I do not believe that either of these things can be true, and that is why i have written you.
thanks,
TJ O'Malley"
Within the hour, i had a return email from the company:
"Dear Mr O'Malley,
You have my sincerest of apologies. If you will please write me and provide the name of the store, i can ensure that we will have a woodgrained Sterling Bass there within 5 days, shipped from California. I assure you that we were not aware of this situation, and you have my apologies.
thank you,
Mr So and So"
I wrote him and mentioned that it was Steve's Music in Toronto. Within 5 days there was a call on my answering machine at home, from the music store. The message, in a cheery voice, was from the chump i'd been dealing with for the past 10 months: "Good news man, we made some calls and your bass came in! It's ready to be picked up and paid for".
..."We made some calls"...
I went down the next day to pay it off and take the bass away. The dude there made comments about it being worth the wait for the bass, etc. As i was walking out, i casually asked the guy - just for kicks - why the bass had finally come in (minoring in theater has its benefits). He said, in a boldfaced lie, "OH I MADE A COUPLE OF CALLS THE OTHER DAY AND GOT ON THE FACTORY ABOUT IT". I looked at him, point blank, and said, "That's not true, actually. The bass came in because i emailed the head of marketing at Music Man and told him that you've been telling me for 10 months that it was their fault that it hadn't arrived yet. He told me it would be here within 5 days". He looked like he'd just drank a glass of his own urine. I also said, "i'm never shopping here ever again".
The bass served me well, of course. It's a great instrument. I have no complaints from that end, really. Clearly, Ernie Ball/Music Man is a great company that makes great instruments and believes in good customer service.
Steve's Music, however...well they don't get my money anymore, and haven't for a long time.
The other day the name of a famous Toronto music store came up in conversation. I thought i might recount an experience that i had with that place about 12 years or so back.
I wanted to order a new bass. I had some money sitting aside, ready to order something good. At that point, i was playing a relatively shoddy instrument - the electronics were sketchy, there was buzz from the neck, etc. I had decided to order myself a quality instrument - something that both looked and sounded good. I was playing bass very regularly back then in Black Cabbage, as well as with other folks on recordings, etc.
I decided on an Ernie Ball Music Man Sterling. Most of the bassists i knew who played a Music Man played a Stingray model. I decided to go for the smaller more rounded Sterling. These basses were only available from some of the higher end music shops in bigger cities. I took a trip down to Steve's Music in Toronto, and talked to the guy who appeared to be running things. They had none of these basses on the shelves there, and the guy working there told me that i would have to order one in through them. In other words, i would put a down payment up, and then Steve's would order the bass from California. The guy working there said it could take up to a month for the bass to come in, but probably less time than that.
I put up 1/3 of the price of the bass ($500). I was told that i'd need to put down 10%, but i opted for more. I ordered a natural wood finish Sterling bass. I was very excited about it!
A month went by and i heard nothing. I called the store and gave my name, and asked about it. I was told "it should be here soon, don't worry".
Another month went by and still i'd heard nothing. I called Steve's Music again and made an inquiry. Once again, i was told "it should be here soon".
This continued off and on for another 10 months. 10 months. Not one month "at most", as promised. The entire time i was dealing with pretty much the same guy (who i assume was a boss there). I kept calling and getting the brush off. I would complain, to no avail. The guy kept saying things like, "oh it takes them a long time to make them at the factory" or "it's the factory that's holding things up, these are handmade instruments".
Right around this time, my buddy Fil (Flashlight Brown) decided he wanted the same bass, but in a different colour. He went in and placed an order for a Red Sterling. It came in within 2 weeks. Another friend Tammy (Cordoroy Leda) ordered a fretless Sterling. She had it in about 2 weeks, i recall. I called Steve's Music and asked, "what the hell is up with that?". The same guy explained that (get ready for it) it takes longer to make natural woodstained coloured basses than it does red ones. I asked "if they don't have to put any paint on it, why would it take longer???". The answer blamed the factory once again.
I was at my wit's end. I'd given them money - more than required -and was being told that i couldn't get that money back. I'd tried to get out of the deal, as i'd felt Steve's Music had not held up their promise, literally tenfold ("one month" had turned into 10 months).
Then i got a good idea.
Remember, this was 12 or 13 years ago - the internet was around, but few people used it or had access to it easily. My roommate Glen had a home computer with access to the 'net. I decided to find the Ernie Ball Music Man website. From there, i looked for some sort of contact name, someone i could write to via email. I actually created my first email account to do this.
I found the name of the guy in charge of Marketing, i believe. I wrote to him, and this is basically what i said (going from memory here, but it's pretty much the same):
"Dear Mr So and so,
I am a very big fan of your company and your instruments. I have a question for you, out of curiousity. Does it take longer to manufacture an all natural wood finished Sterling bass than a red one?
Curious,
TJ O'Malley"
The return message was something like this (again, i'm approximating here)
"Dear Mr O'Malley,
Thank you for the compliments to our company. It is an odd question you ask, but in answer, no, it does not take any longer, really. I am curious as to why you are asking this.
Mr So and so"
My return email went like this:
"Dear Mr So and so,
Well, to be honest, i am asking because 10 months ago i ordered a woodstained coloured Sterling bass into a music store in Toronto. I paid 1/3 of the price up front. I was told at that time that it would take no more than 1 month for it to come in. As mentioned, it has now been 10 months. I am not a rich man, so i cannot afford to give up my down payment, nor will the store let me back out of the deal in good faith.
By the way, when i have repeatedly inquired about the delay, i was told that it was the Music Man Factory's fault. I was also told that it takes longer to make a natural woodstained bass than a red one. I do not believe that either of these things can be true, and that is why i have written you.
thanks,
TJ O'Malley"
Within the hour, i had a return email from the company:
"Dear Mr O'Malley,
You have my sincerest of apologies. If you will please write me and provide the name of the store, i can ensure that we will have a woodgrained Sterling Bass there within 5 days, shipped from California. I assure you that we were not aware of this situation, and you have my apologies.
thank you,
Mr So and So"
I wrote him and mentioned that it was Steve's Music in Toronto. Within 5 days there was a call on my answering machine at home, from the music store. The message, in a cheery voice, was from the chump i'd been dealing with for the past 10 months: "Good news man, we made some calls and your bass came in! It's ready to be picked up and paid for".
..."We made some calls"...
I went down the next day to pay it off and take the bass away. The dude there made comments about it being worth the wait for the bass, etc. As i was walking out, i casually asked the guy - just for kicks - why the bass had finally come in (minoring in theater has its benefits). He said, in a boldfaced lie, "OH I MADE A COUPLE OF CALLS THE OTHER DAY AND GOT ON THE FACTORY ABOUT IT". I looked at him, point blank, and said, "That's not true, actually. The bass came in because i emailed the head of marketing at Music Man and told him that you've been telling me for 10 months that it was their fault that it hadn't arrived yet. He told me it would be here within 5 days". He looked like he'd just drank a glass of his own urine. I also said, "i'm never shopping here ever again".
The bass served me well, of course. It's a great instrument. I have no complaints from that end, really. Clearly, Ernie Ball/Music Man is a great company that makes great instruments and believes in good customer service.
Steve's Music, however...well they don't get my money anymore, and haven't for a long time.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Cuts like a what?
I ordered some martial arts stuff from a store in the States. The package showed up yesterday. Contained in the package was a dvd that i didn't order, so i guess that they just threw it in for free. The dvd was titled something like "Blazing Metal - a Tactical Weapons Demonstration". On the front was a big guy looking like he was about to gut you with an oversized (!) Rambo knife.
Now, some of you know that i like knives. POCKET knives. Friendly, helpful pocket knives. Little, small pocket knives. Good for cutting twine, opening packages from Grandma and the like. I don't really have a thing for knives that are preceded with adjectives like "tactical", "operative", "Desert Storm", etc. I prefer my knives described by words like "Granpa's", or "Oldtimer's pal", or "Mr Stabby" (ok, maybe not that last one).
Out of curiousity i put the video in. It was nuts. The menu popped up and the chapters were labled by the type of knife (gutting blade, murdalizer, hack 'n' slash, etc). I picked a chapter, and then then sub-chapters were all pictures of scary looking knives. One had this fang that stuck off the end, possibly for extra "werewolf kill capability". I decided to watch the demo for that one. It began with a dude talking about the knife, saying how awesome it was. He showed how strong the blade was by hanging a 100 lb weight off of the blade with a rope (it took 2 burly guys wearing black jeans & tshirts & work gloves to carry the 1/2 barbell over). I admit i was impressed. He then proceeded to show how sharp the blade was. He began by describing the demonstration as follows: "We took this denim sleeve (!) and filled it with meat (!!). Then we hung it from a Manilla rope. Watch how easily the blade slices through it (stab stab, slash slash, gouge gouge)".
I did wonder, was it beef, or pork? It would have been awesome if it was tofu, and the denim was hemp denim.
The best demonstration on the video was the tomohawk display. They sell these tomohawks that don't look menacing, but boy, watch out. One of the demos showed the dude taking the tomohawk and swinging it through the metal hood of a car. The bladed side went right through the metal. I was impressed, i must say, because i figure that if i'm going to get run over by a car, using a tomohawk is the best method to stop it from happening. I would have gone for the throw through windshield myself, but that's just me showing off. Speaking of which, they showed this cool looking guy with a big mustache that they called "the professor", and he took those goddam tomohawks and threw them at a big wooden board. THEY ALL STUCK INTO THE BOARD! It was like watching a carnival or circus. It was actually really cool. The professor also demonstrated some throwing knives later on, in the same fashion. He got them to stick in the middle of a bullseye target. At one point, i was pretty sure he was wearing a monocle.
Other highlights:
-dude used a 2 handed Chinese war sword to cut through like 2 dozen tatami mats, one by one, and then there was a giant pile of them on the floor.
-dude demonstrated a blowgun that was crazy, and it even had a guard that prevented you from inhaling the dart by accident (like in cartoons)
-the professor gave a lesson on the US Civil War era Saber
Seriously, i didn't order this dvd, but i sure had fun watching it. It was nuts.
Now, some of you know that i like knives. POCKET knives. Friendly, helpful pocket knives. Little, small pocket knives. Good for cutting twine, opening packages from Grandma and the like. I don't really have a thing for knives that are preceded with adjectives like "tactical", "operative", "Desert Storm", etc. I prefer my knives described by words like "Granpa's", or "Oldtimer's pal", or "Mr Stabby" (ok, maybe not that last one).
Out of curiousity i put the video in. It was nuts. The menu popped up and the chapters were labled by the type of knife (gutting blade, murdalizer, hack 'n' slash, etc). I picked a chapter, and then then sub-chapters were all pictures of scary looking knives. One had this fang that stuck off the end, possibly for extra "werewolf kill capability". I decided to watch the demo for that one. It began with a dude talking about the knife, saying how awesome it was. He showed how strong the blade was by hanging a 100 lb weight off of the blade with a rope (it took 2 burly guys wearing black jeans & tshirts & work gloves to carry the 1/2 barbell over). I admit i was impressed. He then proceeded to show how sharp the blade was. He began by describing the demonstration as follows: "We took this denim sleeve (!) and filled it with meat (!!). Then we hung it from a Manilla rope. Watch how easily the blade slices through it (stab stab, slash slash, gouge gouge)".
I did wonder, was it beef, or pork? It would have been awesome if it was tofu, and the denim was hemp denim.
The best demonstration on the video was the tomohawk display. They sell these tomohawks that don't look menacing, but boy, watch out. One of the demos showed the dude taking the tomohawk and swinging it through the metal hood of a car. The bladed side went right through the metal. I was impressed, i must say, because i figure that if i'm going to get run over by a car, using a tomohawk is the best method to stop it from happening. I would have gone for the throw through windshield myself, but that's just me showing off. Speaking of which, they showed this cool looking guy with a big mustache that they called "the professor", and he took those goddam tomohawks and threw them at a big wooden board. THEY ALL STUCK INTO THE BOARD! It was like watching a carnival or circus. It was actually really cool. The professor also demonstrated some throwing knives later on, in the same fashion. He got them to stick in the middle of a bullseye target. At one point, i was pretty sure he was wearing a monocle.
Other highlights:
-dude used a 2 handed Chinese war sword to cut through like 2 dozen tatami mats, one by one, and then there was a giant pile of them on the floor.
-dude demonstrated a blowgun that was crazy, and it even had a guard that prevented you from inhaling the dart by accident (like in cartoons)
-the professor gave a lesson on the US Civil War era Saber
Seriously, i didn't order this dvd, but i sure had fun watching it. It was nuts.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
King of Naps
I used to be the King of All Naps.
It was like a gift and curse. I had the ability to fall sleep anywhere, at pretty much anytime. It started when i was in late highschool. I was doing a lot of homework and consequently was often burning the candle at both ends. Most nights during grade 12 & 13, my after dinner routine consisted of doing a lot of homework 'til about 10 or so at night, and then i would talk on the phone 'til pretty late, or keep doing more homework. As a result, i'd wake up very tired. What ended up happening was that after i got home from school, i'd take a nap. Usually i'd be home shortly after 4:00, and i'd go to bed for about an hour or so until dinner. This helped to compensate for the late nights.
This continued on into university, with the exception that i really didn't do much homework in university. The workload was nowhere as difficult as it was in my last years of highschool. The napping continued, however. I would fall asleep every time i cracked a book open - which wasn't conducive to study. I'd often spend most of my days in the library reading, napping, reading and napping. It got to the point where i could put my head down on the desk and be out within seconds. I'd sleep for a 1/2 an hour or so and then wake up and read for a bit.
When i was in university, i had a couple of jobs. I continued to work on occasion at the IGA supermarket near my folk's place, during the year and full time during the summer. I would start work around 7 am each day. I got a 1 hour lunch break. I'd typically skateboard home and sleep for 1/2 an hour, eat a sandwich, and zip back to work.
Most notorious, however was my tenure working for the Sears Corporate Finance centre. At that point, i was in 3rd year of university. I was working there a couple of days a week, and also on weekends. I worked at that place for 5 years. After i graduated, i continued working there. At that point in my life, i was staying up very late and going out on the town a lot. This meant late nights, often seasoned with beer. I'd wake up in the morning and jump on my bike and head on over across town. I make no bones about the fact that it was in fact the most boring place that i've ever worked at and the work there was completely mundane. I once spent 3 weeks doing nothing but photocopying, 8 hours a day. As a result, i was often very tired at work and i also make no bones about the fact that while at work, i probably slept for an hour a day, all things totaled. The interesting part about this is not the what or the why, but the WHERE.
Well, i'll tell you. I would sleep primarily in the washroom. Yup. On the toilet. The toilets had a seatcover that you could put down and sit on. They also had a toilet paper dispenser that you could lean on quite easily. We (me and two other guys who shall remain nameless) had a system down. One of us would go in, and give a signal to one of the others. If the guy who'd gone in to nap was gone for more than 20 minutes, the guy who'd received the signal would go in and wake him up. Then he'd take his place. Sometimes, if the other guys weren't around, i'd vary it up. I'd go to a different bathroom each time, to prevent getting caught.
I said "primarily" in the last paragraph with regards to sleep locations. Where else did i sleep there? Well, let's see: i had the access code to a computer/tape room in the basement. There was only one other guy who ever went in there and he only ever went down once in a while. I sometimes had to go there to check on a machine, so i could go down there and sleep. I also had access to the giant craptacular storage facility where they kept the records. I'd done a job pulling record files for one summer. This room was filled with huge shelves that stretched up to the ceiling. I would climb up behind boxes of records and take a 10 minute nap if needed.
There were more locations than this, but you get the point.
It was a crappy crappy job. If you're a potential employer, or my current one, and you've somehow stumbled on to this, read on.
After 5 years of working there, they laid off about 80% of the employees, and moved the office from Guelph to Toronto. I was out of a job but not entirely unhappy about it. I was unemployed for about 8 months, and then began working for my current employer. During those 8 months, i slept like i've never slept before. I think that i slept for about 11 hours per night, and then would nap during the day as well. Long story short, i got it all out of my system. After those 8 months, i never really felt like i needed a nap again, except on literally a dozen or so occasions. I remember when i started working again, i tried to nap after work, but could not. It had been a habit for like 10 years, but i could no longer do it. There is no more sleeping after work, or in the washrooms, or anywhere else. Go ahead, send spys after me if you don't believe me!
Now i find that i can only nap when i'm on holidays. If i were to go to a cottage for a week, i'm sure i'd be able to nap. Last weekend, on the long weekend, i was able to nap. But that's very rare. I think it has to do with the type of stress that i generally carry on my person these days, as well as the fact that i just don't seem to need as much sleep as i used to 10 years ago.
It was like a gift and curse. I had the ability to fall sleep anywhere, at pretty much anytime. It started when i was in late highschool. I was doing a lot of homework and consequently was often burning the candle at both ends. Most nights during grade 12 & 13, my after dinner routine consisted of doing a lot of homework 'til about 10 or so at night, and then i would talk on the phone 'til pretty late, or keep doing more homework. As a result, i'd wake up very tired. What ended up happening was that after i got home from school, i'd take a nap. Usually i'd be home shortly after 4:00, and i'd go to bed for about an hour or so until dinner. This helped to compensate for the late nights.
This continued on into university, with the exception that i really didn't do much homework in university. The workload was nowhere as difficult as it was in my last years of highschool. The napping continued, however. I would fall asleep every time i cracked a book open - which wasn't conducive to study. I'd often spend most of my days in the library reading, napping, reading and napping. It got to the point where i could put my head down on the desk and be out within seconds. I'd sleep for a 1/2 an hour or so and then wake up and read for a bit.
When i was in university, i had a couple of jobs. I continued to work on occasion at the IGA supermarket near my folk's place, during the year and full time during the summer. I would start work around 7 am each day. I got a 1 hour lunch break. I'd typically skateboard home and sleep for 1/2 an hour, eat a sandwich, and zip back to work.
Most notorious, however was my tenure working for the Sears Corporate Finance centre. At that point, i was in 3rd year of university. I was working there a couple of days a week, and also on weekends. I worked at that place for 5 years. After i graduated, i continued working there. At that point in my life, i was staying up very late and going out on the town a lot. This meant late nights, often seasoned with beer. I'd wake up in the morning and jump on my bike and head on over across town. I make no bones about the fact that it was in fact the most boring place that i've ever worked at and the work there was completely mundane. I once spent 3 weeks doing nothing but photocopying, 8 hours a day. As a result, i was often very tired at work and i also make no bones about the fact that while at work, i probably slept for an hour a day, all things totaled. The interesting part about this is not the what or the why, but the WHERE.
Well, i'll tell you. I would sleep primarily in the washroom. Yup. On the toilet. The toilets had a seatcover that you could put down and sit on. They also had a toilet paper dispenser that you could lean on quite easily. We (me and two other guys who shall remain nameless) had a system down. One of us would go in, and give a signal to one of the others. If the guy who'd gone in to nap was gone for more than 20 minutes, the guy who'd received the signal would go in and wake him up. Then he'd take his place. Sometimes, if the other guys weren't around, i'd vary it up. I'd go to a different bathroom each time, to prevent getting caught.
I said "primarily" in the last paragraph with regards to sleep locations. Where else did i sleep there? Well, let's see: i had the access code to a computer/tape room in the basement. There was only one other guy who ever went in there and he only ever went down once in a while. I sometimes had to go there to check on a machine, so i could go down there and sleep. I also had access to the giant craptacular storage facility where they kept the records. I'd done a job pulling record files for one summer. This room was filled with huge shelves that stretched up to the ceiling. I would climb up behind boxes of records and take a 10 minute nap if needed.
There were more locations than this, but you get the point.
It was a crappy crappy job. If you're a potential employer, or my current one, and you've somehow stumbled on to this, read on.
After 5 years of working there, they laid off about 80% of the employees, and moved the office from Guelph to Toronto. I was out of a job but not entirely unhappy about it. I was unemployed for about 8 months, and then began working for my current employer. During those 8 months, i slept like i've never slept before. I think that i slept for about 11 hours per night, and then would nap during the day as well. Long story short, i got it all out of my system. After those 8 months, i never really felt like i needed a nap again, except on literally a dozen or so occasions. I remember when i started working again, i tried to nap after work, but could not. It had been a habit for like 10 years, but i could no longer do it. There is no more sleeping after work, or in the washrooms, or anywhere else. Go ahead, send spys after me if you don't believe me!
Now i find that i can only nap when i'm on holidays. If i were to go to a cottage for a week, i'm sure i'd be able to nap. Last weekend, on the long weekend, i was able to nap. But that's very rare. I think it has to do with the type of stress that i generally carry on my person these days, as well as the fact that i just don't seem to need as much sleep as i used to 10 years ago.
Jokes
You know, i just realized that in my entire life, i have never really thought of a good joke.
I don't mean that i haven't thought of a funny prank, or told a funny story, etc. I mean that i have never come up with or invented what i considered to be a funny joke of this sort:
Q: Why was the mushroom so popular at parties?
A: Because he was such a fungi!
See, it's the kind of joke where there's a question and an answer, rather than the classic "A priest, a rabbi and an Irishman are on a plane..." style of joke.
I think it's really hilarious when kids come up with "jokes" like that, because typically, they make absolutely no sense whatsoever and aren't even funny. Which makes them hilarious. Case in point:
Q: What did the duck say to the banana?
A: I like pickles!
A kid told me this joke once. I kept trying to say "but it makes no sense", but he couldn't hear me because he was laughing so hard at his own (crappy) joke.
Here, i'll try to make up a kid's joke that makes sense:
Q: Why did the ghost go to the library?
A: He wanted to read more booooooks.
It sucks, but at least it makes sense.
*****************************************************************
As an aside, i think that Jokey smurf was really really annoying.
I don't mean that i haven't thought of a funny prank, or told a funny story, etc. I mean that i have never come up with or invented what i considered to be a funny joke of this sort:
Q: Why was the mushroom so popular at parties?
A: Because he was such a fungi!
See, it's the kind of joke where there's a question and an answer, rather than the classic "A priest, a rabbi and an Irishman are on a plane..." style of joke.
I think it's really hilarious when kids come up with "jokes" like that, because typically, they make absolutely no sense whatsoever and aren't even funny. Which makes them hilarious. Case in point:
Q: What did the duck say to the banana?
A: I like pickles!
A kid told me this joke once. I kept trying to say "but it makes no sense", but he couldn't hear me because he was laughing so hard at his own (crappy) joke.
Here, i'll try to make up a kid's joke that makes sense:
Q: Why did the ghost go to the library?
A: He wanted to read more booooooks.
It sucks, but at least it makes sense.
*****************************************************************
As an aside, i think that Jokey smurf was really really annoying.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Paging Doctor Marten
I was ahead of a fashion trend at least once in my life.
This doesn't mean that i was wholly original, but rather, that i was able to predate and predict something that would become popular fashion. Sort of. OK, not at all. I certainly didn't "inspire" anyone to dress any way. This experience also taught me that many of my fellow teenagers were often supremely unoriginal and entirely fickle in their thinking.
I needed a new pair of shoes. This was back in the mid 1980s. Most of my compatriots at the time were wearing either boat(deck)shoes or basketball sneakers (ie. Air Jordans). I wanted to get a pair of shoes that were more formal, something i could wear to school, church, work, but also on the street. I went shoe shopping in downtown Toronto. I ended up wandering into a shoe somewhere on Queen Street, i believe. There were a lot of skinheads and punks. This was before Modism had caught on again. I ended up picking out a very plain pair of Doc Marten shoes, 3 holes. At the time, i had no idea that these shoes were worn primarily by kids imitating British fashion images. I really didn't know this. I tried on the shoes and found them to be very comfortable, and their plain jane looks made me think i could wear them anywhere and not be out of place. So i bought them. I did not understand why the skinheads were giving me odd looks - i was too naive to know that these were the brand of shoes that they wore, and i certainly didn't know about people getting rolled for their shoes.
This was them:
I wore them to school on Monday. Almost immediately, a couple of guys started giving me a hard time. They didn't know what the brand name of the shoes were or anything - i just wasn't wearing penny loafers or deck shoes or basketball shoes, so they figured they should point this out. One of the guys called them "choirboy shoes". I asked him what that meant, but he didn't have much of an answer, other than repeating, "you know, CHOIRBOY shoes". It helps to say the one word LOUDER like that.
Later in the year, some other kid came up to me and said, "are you turning into a nazi skinhead now???". I said, "um, no". I would have thought that the fact that i had hair and hung out with the one Jewish kid in our (Catholic) school might have tipped him as to my allegiances, but no dice. For the rest of the year, that guy kept harassing me about being a skinhead.
All the while, i still did not really understand that Doc Martens had ever been part of any British fashion craze, longstanding or otherwise. No one was wearing them at the time, outside of Skinheads and punks.
Summer came and went. Inevitably, kids went out and bought the latest outfits and trends. Sure enough, Doc Martens had caught the public eye. All of a sudden, kids who had been making fun of my shoes were now wear not only Doc's shoes, but 10 hole boots, in various colours and styles. Everybody had a pair, even the dweeb who called them choirboy shoes had the exact same pair now. The chump who accused me of being a skinhead now had 10 holes, as well as a close cropped haircut. At various points throughout the year, i made sure to remind these guys that only a year or so ago, they were making fun of the very thing they now sported on their feet. They usually shrugged or denied that they'd done this, but i knew it and ultimately, they knew it.
I recall going to a dance at another high school, and some skinhead dude kept eyeing me all night. By this point, i had a firmer understanding of the history of Doc Martens, and also had heard about kids getting "rolled" for them.* This dude actually came up to me and put his foot up beside mine as if to pretend to be measuring for the shoes. I knew some of the tougher sporty guys at that school, and made sure to walk up to them. I pointed at the trophy case (behind the skinhead and his pals) and said to one of the tough sporto dudes, "hey, there's that soccer trophy that you guys took off my school last year"! The dudes all laughed. Obviously, the skinhead & his pals didn't know that we were pointing at something behind them. I then walked over and asked him point blank if he still wanted to try to take them from me, and he just sort of skulked off. This was typical of my ways of handling potential violence in high school.
Soon everyone i knew was wearing them. The trend came and went over a decade or so, and i was still wearing 'em. That first pair that i bought back in the mid 80s lasted for well over 15 years.
I've since switched over to wearing Blundstones (Australian workboots). They are more comfortable, and also fairly long lasting. Maybe not as long lasting as Doc Martens, but at least nobody is going to roll me for them...i haven't been stalked by any Aussie outback cowboys. Though the dude from Midnight Oil WAS following me last week...
*i did have a few friends who got rolled for their Docs. One guy got beat up pretty bad in Scarborough. Another fellow went to the same store that i'd gone to with a buddy. They walked in, bought boots, and walked out - some skinheads followed them to the corner and said, "if you give us the boots we won't kill you". They handed them over and just took the Go train back to Ajax.
This doesn't mean that i was wholly original, but rather, that i was able to predate and predict something that would become popular fashion. Sort of. OK, not at all. I certainly didn't "inspire" anyone to dress any way. This experience also taught me that many of my fellow teenagers were often supremely unoriginal and entirely fickle in their thinking.
I needed a new pair of shoes. This was back in the mid 1980s. Most of my compatriots at the time were wearing either boat(deck)shoes or basketball sneakers (ie. Air Jordans). I wanted to get a pair of shoes that were more formal, something i could wear to school, church, work, but also on the street. I went shoe shopping in downtown Toronto. I ended up wandering into a shoe somewhere on Queen Street, i believe. There were a lot of skinheads and punks. This was before Modism had caught on again. I ended up picking out a very plain pair of Doc Marten shoes, 3 holes. At the time, i had no idea that these shoes were worn primarily by kids imitating British fashion images. I really didn't know this. I tried on the shoes and found them to be very comfortable, and their plain jane looks made me think i could wear them anywhere and not be out of place. So i bought them. I did not understand why the skinheads were giving me odd looks - i was too naive to know that these were the brand of shoes that they wore, and i certainly didn't know about people getting rolled for their shoes.
This was them:
I wore them to school on Monday. Almost immediately, a couple of guys started giving me a hard time. They didn't know what the brand name of the shoes were or anything - i just wasn't wearing penny loafers or deck shoes or basketball shoes, so they figured they should point this out. One of the guys called them "choirboy shoes". I asked him what that meant, but he didn't have much of an answer, other than repeating, "you know, CHOIRBOY shoes". It helps to say the one word LOUDER like that.
Later in the year, some other kid came up to me and said, "are you turning into a nazi skinhead now???". I said, "um, no". I would have thought that the fact that i had hair and hung out with the one Jewish kid in our (Catholic) school might have tipped him as to my allegiances, but no dice. For the rest of the year, that guy kept harassing me about being a skinhead.
All the while, i still did not really understand that Doc Martens had ever been part of any British fashion craze, longstanding or otherwise. No one was wearing them at the time, outside of Skinheads and punks.
Summer came and went. Inevitably, kids went out and bought the latest outfits and trends. Sure enough, Doc Martens had caught the public eye. All of a sudden, kids who had been making fun of my shoes were now wear not only Doc's shoes, but 10 hole boots, in various colours and styles. Everybody had a pair, even the dweeb who called them choirboy shoes had the exact same pair now. The chump who accused me of being a skinhead now had 10 holes, as well as a close cropped haircut. At various points throughout the year, i made sure to remind these guys that only a year or so ago, they were making fun of the very thing they now sported on their feet. They usually shrugged or denied that they'd done this, but i knew it and ultimately, they knew it.
I recall going to a dance at another high school, and some skinhead dude kept eyeing me all night. By this point, i had a firmer understanding of the history of Doc Martens, and also had heard about kids getting "rolled" for them.* This dude actually came up to me and put his foot up beside mine as if to pretend to be measuring for the shoes. I knew some of the tougher sporty guys at that school, and made sure to walk up to them. I pointed at the trophy case (behind the skinhead and his pals) and said to one of the tough sporto dudes, "hey, there's that soccer trophy that you guys took off my school last year"! The dudes all laughed. Obviously, the skinhead & his pals didn't know that we were pointing at something behind them. I then walked over and asked him point blank if he still wanted to try to take them from me, and he just sort of skulked off. This was typical of my ways of handling potential violence in high school.
Soon everyone i knew was wearing them. The trend came and went over a decade or so, and i was still wearing 'em. That first pair that i bought back in the mid 80s lasted for well over 15 years.
I've since switched over to wearing Blundstones (Australian workboots). They are more comfortable, and also fairly long lasting. Maybe not as long lasting as Doc Martens, but at least nobody is going to roll me for them...i haven't been stalked by any Aussie outback cowboys. Though the dude from Midnight Oil WAS following me last week...
*i did have a few friends who got rolled for their Docs. One guy got beat up pretty bad in Scarborough. Another fellow went to the same store that i'd gone to with a buddy. They walked in, bought boots, and walked out - some skinheads followed them to the corner and said, "if you give us the boots we won't kill you". They handed them over and just took the Go train back to Ajax.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Bison
I ate a bison burger tonight.
Is that an endangered species? Because if so, i feel it only fair to warn the other endangered species that i'm coming for them too. Cause if they're HALF as delicious as bison...
Also my grade school in Scarborough was called "General Brock Public school" and our teams were known as the Bisons.
Is that an endangered species? Because if so, i feel it only fair to warn the other endangered species that i'm coming for them too. Cause if they're HALF as delicious as bison...
Also my grade school in Scarborough was called "General Brock Public school" and our teams were known as the Bisons.
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