The last few days have been a little taxing. This getting up before the sun thing sucks. That’s right folks, I have started a new day job. Gone now are the joyfully days of being a man of leisure. I have become a minute cog in the wheel of a machine. I am a man, who now must toil in the minutia of the day-to-day corporate world.
The only real catharsis for me is that I do this so I can chase my goals and have a quality of life at the same time. Being a Canadian entertainer is a tough road to hoe. The rewards are great, but the path is fraught with strange twists and turns. (And sometimes vicious circles… but that’s another story for another time.)
Oh how I long for the carefree days of just last week. A mere week ago, I only had to worry about packing for the move. That was it. (Insert moronic laugh track here…) Now, I have to politely excuse myself from offering any sort of substandard help to those who would ask. The only thing I have in my say to them in my defense is, “Sorry I’m the new guy.” Which can only really be described as pretty meager or flimsy at best. (Translation… I’m a fucking retard, who should need a license to manipulate a pencil sharpener. Fuck I cut myself again…) God forbid they should permit me to have an x-acto knife. That would spell certain doom. I wish I was kidding.
I managed two paper cuts in little less than the first hour on the job. Jealous? I knew you would be. For those that think I might be clever, the jokes on you! The current company newspaper headline reads “Retarded New Guy Cuts Himself With Paper, Officials roll eyes”
I’m willing to bet there’s already an office pool about when I get my shirt caught in a paper shredder, or get knocked out when I try to change the water in the cooler. (Likely in some sort of “Three’s Company, Jack Tripper, slapstick sort of way.”) I wonder if I can bet on myself. I really need to find the office bookie, because let’s face it, a few extra bucks never hurts.
It’s a little hard on the psyche to be judged as a simpleton because of my lack of tenure in my new position. I will survive, and likely thrive, but in the mean time, I’m the goof. It’s the cross I have to bear. I hope to Christ they hire someone else soon, so I’ll be less of a heat score.
Mind you, yesterday I suggested to my new supervisor that she should think of me as little more than a “hairless ape” when it comes to any semblance of a skill set. She laughed. I tried to convince her that I wasn’t joking. She laughed again. This is going to be interesting. It really wasn’t mean’t to be any sort of icebreaker. I really am kinda dumb sometimes.
My new hamster cage is currently missing its water bottle and wheel. I put in a request for these essential office supplies. As of yet, I have not heard back. I suspect they are on back order.
Not that it’s really a bad thing. To be sure it’s a good thing to claw back some discipline. I’ve been slack for a little too long. My couch was starting to get too deep a groove from my lazy arse. The only real sticky issue for me is the level of exhaustion I feel when I leave.
Now I know why worker bees look like zombies when they head home from work.
Anyhoo… more tales from the eastern front as they arise.
End of transmittal.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Vote for me!
I was walking on the Red Mile today, and I saw a sign that struck me as quite funny. It was for some fortuneteller / psychic. The sign said “85 percent accurate.” That had me in stitches. How on earth would claim that with any credibility? Is there some sort of survey or research metric that measures metaphysical / occult powers?
“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your psychic on their ability to forecast that you will meet someone new, sometime, perhaps in the next couple of days, and that they may or may not begin a relationship with you, that might lead to happiness or tragedy?”
What a croc of shit! 85 percent accurate my foot. Ha… That’s as preposterous as saying “I invented wood.” or “The Brooklyn Bride was made by elves that lived on a steady diet of possum fat and lead paint” or better still “I had a gang bang with Britney Spears, Elton John, and the freshly exhumed body of Tupac Shakur.”
Don’t get me wrong; I love a good psychic as much as the next sucker. I’m always amused by their prognostications. I’m willing to spend the cash, but only if it’s going to be really outrageous. I went to one a couple of years ago, and she said I was going to become a successful lawyer. Better still, she said she saw me in public office. Me… Trust me when I say, nobody wants that. (It would get out of hand quickly…)
Try to imagine me as the Prime Minister. I would go from zero to corrupt so fast, it would be a land speed record. I would encourage call girls to help me run for office, and then give them cushy jobs within government ministries. Then I would invite world leaders to come for a visit, just so I could say, “You ain’t shit. My bitches run the whole fucking country for me aieeeeeght!”
I would use the Canada One jet to party! “Fuck you Doug Stanhope and fuck your Girls Gone Wild. I’ve got Stronach, and she is good to go! That’s just the way I roll.” I just know that Belinda would be in there like schmindere… (Sure she needs a little more “encouragement” than say a trucker cap or some beads, but the video would be worth it. Picture this “Parliamentarians Gone Wild…” It has a certain je ne sais quoi! Don’t you think?) This Prime Minister has got skills and game!
I would also decommission the RCMP in favor of letting bikers run the show with reckless abandon. Thugs are thugs as far as I’m concerned, and hell these guys are more ambitious to my way of thinking. Besides no one wants to fuck with bikers… Hey… I’m just thinking about the general public’s safety. After the Maher Arar fuck up, it’s obvious it’s time for a change. Radical times call for radical solutions.
I would sell citizenship to the highest bidders. Of course, my office would have to get a piece. Buying the support of my detractors is tricky business and requires some serious flow. This brother’s got bills to pay.
Oh… and of course I can be bought… If you want permission to move Canadian jobs to Sri Lanka, then you’ve got to line my pocket with “dead prime ministers.” You want me to “forget” about Kyoto targets, then gimme the green. Yes indeed, I can be bought.
Then again, most of this doesn’t sound that different than the status quo. (Well except for the bikers, but I’m willing to bet Harper’s been thinking about it!)
Anyhoo the moral of the story is this… Psychics are hokey! And Ahem… Vote for Me!
.
“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your psychic on their ability to forecast that you will meet someone new, sometime, perhaps in the next couple of days, and that they may or may not begin a relationship with you, that might lead to happiness or tragedy?”
What a croc of shit! 85 percent accurate my foot. Ha… That’s as preposterous as saying “I invented wood.” or “The Brooklyn Bride was made by elves that lived on a steady diet of possum fat and lead paint” or better still “I had a gang bang with Britney Spears, Elton John, and the freshly exhumed body of Tupac Shakur.”
Don’t get me wrong; I love a good psychic as much as the next sucker. I’m always amused by their prognostications. I’m willing to spend the cash, but only if it’s going to be really outrageous. I went to one a couple of years ago, and she said I was going to become a successful lawyer. Better still, she said she saw me in public office. Me… Trust me when I say, nobody wants that. (It would get out of hand quickly…)
Try to imagine me as the Prime Minister. I would go from zero to corrupt so fast, it would be a land speed record. I would encourage call girls to help me run for office, and then give them cushy jobs within government ministries. Then I would invite world leaders to come for a visit, just so I could say, “You ain’t shit. My bitches run the whole fucking country for me aieeeeeght!”
I would use the Canada One jet to party! “Fuck you Doug Stanhope and fuck your Girls Gone Wild. I’ve got Stronach, and she is good to go! That’s just the way I roll.” I just know that Belinda would be in there like schmindere… (Sure she needs a little more “encouragement” than say a trucker cap or some beads, but the video would be worth it. Picture this “Parliamentarians Gone Wild…” It has a certain je ne sais quoi! Don’t you think?) This Prime Minister has got skills and game!
I would also decommission the RCMP in favor of letting bikers run the show with reckless abandon. Thugs are thugs as far as I’m concerned, and hell these guys are more ambitious to my way of thinking. Besides no one wants to fuck with bikers… Hey… I’m just thinking about the general public’s safety. After the Maher Arar fuck up, it’s obvious it’s time for a change. Radical times call for radical solutions.
I would sell citizenship to the highest bidders. Of course, my office would have to get a piece. Buying the support of my detractors is tricky business and requires some serious flow. This brother’s got bills to pay.
Oh… and of course I can be bought… If you want permission to move Canadian jobs to Sri Lanka, then you’ve got to line my pocket with “dead prime ministers.” You want me to “forget” about Kyoto targets, then gimme the green. Yes indeed, I can be bought.
Then again, most of this doesn’t sound that different than the status quo. (Well except for the bikers, but I’m willing to bet Harper’s been thinking about it!)
Anyhoo the moral of the story is this… Psychics are hokey! And Ahem… Vote for Me!
.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
I love Me A Good Wood Chipper...
I think it’s a real shame that popular entertainment has become about who’s living a more notorious lifestyle than who is good at what they do. Long gone are the days of talent being a necessity. I find it sad. I don’t give a shit who is fucking whom, or who can be the most obnoxious. For the love of God, Just sing or dance, or perhaps tell me a decent joke.
I think that we should be able to punish those entertainers that offend our entertainment sensibilities. In fact, I think I have a great idea… Given the success of shows like “American Idol”, (Which is likely the biggest, most enormous piece of festering bat guano ever conceived in the history of television...) I think it would be great if we could vote via our cell phones to see which “Star” (see oxygen thief…) we get to snuff out. The working title I have in mind is “Who Do You Want to Push Into A Wood Chipper?”
“If you wanna off that retarded himbo Ashton Kutcher then text Let’s murder the fucker! To 6666 on your cell phone...”
That would the best Punk’d episode in history.
Then I got to thinking, who would I want to put in the wood chipper?
So I came up with a list.
Here goes…
1) Donald Trump – His goofy hair alone should be enough for him to get stuffed in. Add the fact that his television show sucks, and the fact that he comes off as completely tacky and it definitely earns him a place on the list.
2) Simon Cowell – This man is likely the most ignorant cocksucker on the planet earth. If anyone ever treated me the way he treats people, I’d punch them right in the mouth. I wouldn’t even blink. That lack of respect for even the basest level of human dignity deserves nothing but utter contempt. Fuck the wood chipper, I’d shove a barrel of dynamite up his crapper and happily light the match.
3) Jessica Simpson – She should be euthenized, if only out of a sense of compassion. Anything that stupid should be put out of its misery. It’s a shame when wounded animals suffer.
4) Kevin Federline – As if the world wouldn’t be a better place if this hack became a member of the choir invisible. Seeing his desperate attempt to try and justify his meaningless existence, while exceptionally funny, is also a tragedy that no one should be forced to endure. If only he’d been satisfied with just being Mr. Spears. Oh well…
5) Jennifer Lopez – She’s like Rosie Perez but she talks gooder. Jenny from the block (And her alter ego… JLO) offered us the shittiest romantic comedies ever conceived. Watching her try an act her way out of a paper bag, is much like watching a mentally retarded poodle try and eat it’s own shit. Do not pass go, Do not collect 200 dollars, go directly to the wood chipper.
6) Pam Anderson – “I have Hep C… and I don’t know where I got it from’!” I’m willing to bet it was from fucking half the rock stars in North America. Pam Anderson can sniff out rock star cock like a truffle hog on a mushroom.
7) Andy Dick – Never has there ever been a bigger waste of skin. Truthfully a wood chipper is too good for him. I think he needs to be tied to the back of a pick up, then dragged through a cactus patch, then dipped in a vat of turpentine, then dumped in pit of used syringes (a la Saw 2…) then set on fire, doused, then set on fire again, then beaten with a golf cleat, then finally decapitated with a nail file.
The problem with this concept is that I could go on for days. Lemme know what you think. Who would you throw into a wood chipper?
That’s it for now. More to come later!
I think that we should be able to punish those entertainers that offend our entertainment sensibilities. In fact, I think I have a great idea… Given the success of shows like “American Idol”, (Which is likely the biggest, most enormous piece of festering bat guano ever conceived in the history of television...) I think it would be great if we could vote via our cell phones to see which “Star” (see oxygen thief…) we get to snuff out. The working title I have in mind is “Who Do You Want to Push Into A Wood Chipper?”
“If you wanna off that retarded himbo Ashton Kutcher then text Let’s murder the fucker! To 6666 on your cell phone...”
That would the best Punk’d episode in history.
Then I got to thinking, who would I want to put in the wood chipper?
So I came up with a list.
Here goes…
1) Donald Trump – His goofy hair alone should be enough for him to get stuffed in. Add the fact that his television show sucks, and the fact that he comes off as completely tacky and it definitely earns him a place on the list.
2) Simon Cowell – This man is likely the most ignorant cocksucker on the planet earth. If anyone ever treated me the way he treats people, I’d punch them right in the mouth. I wouldn’t even blink. That lack of respect for even the basest level of human dignity deserves nothing but utter contempt. Fuck the wood chipper, I’d shove a barrel of dynamite up his crapper and happily light the match.
3) Jessica Simpson – She should be euthenized, if only out of a sense of compassion. Anything that stupid should be put out of its misery. It’s a shame when wounded animals suffer.
4) Kevin Federline – As if the world wouldn’t be a better place if this hack became a member of the choir invisible. Seeing his desperate attempt to try and justify his meaningless existence, while exceptionally funny, is also a tragedy that no one should be forced to endure. If only he’d been satisfied with just being Mr. Spears. Oh well…
5) Jennifer Lopez – She’s like Rosie Perez but she talks gooder. Jenny from the block (And her alter ego… JLO) offered us the shittiest romantic comedies ever conceived. Watching her try an act her way out of a paper bag, is much like watching a mentally retarded poodle try and eat it’s own shit. Do not pass go, Do not collect 200 dollars, go directly to the wood chipper.
6) Pam Anderson – “I have Hep C… and I don’t know where I got it from’!” I’m willing to bet it was from fucking half the rock stars in North America. Pam Anderson can sniff out rock star cock like a truffle hog on a mushroom.
7) Andy Dick – Never has there ever been a bigger waste of skin. Truthfully a wood chipper is too good for him. I think he needs to be tied to the back of a pick up, then dragged through a cactus patch, then dipped in a vat of turpentine, then dumped in pit of used syringes (a la Saw 2…) then set on fire, doused, then set on fire again, then beaten with a golf cleat, then finally decapitated with a nail file.
The problem with this concept is that I could go on for days. Lemme know what you think. Who would you throw into a wood chipper?
That’s it for now. More to come later!
Friday, October 20, 2006
Things I Hate...
Here are some things that I hate. (It’s a long list, and in no particular order.)
1) I hate the maudlin poetry written by scorned 20 somethings. It’s never clever or interesting. 99 times out of a hundred, it’s about how Mr. Right became Mr. Wrong. (Not to mention the overbearing and mellow dramatic injection of “I am stronger than you…” or “I’m better off without you…” or “I will survive…”) Now I realize people need to excise their sadness and anger, (and in some cases really wallow in it…) but for Christ sake try using something less derivative. Barbed wire and roses have been done to death, and for the record so has “Boys just don’t understand me.” Truthfully though, I tend to hate poetry anyway. I do however love a good story. (I will listen to a good rant till the cows come home.)
2) The statement “I’m not racist but…” which is always followed by something overtly racist. (“I like Asians, but man are they shitty drivers…”) Let’s get something straight; everyone on the planet has some sort of racist or bigoted tendencies, but that doesn’t mean we should revel in them, or delude ourselves into believing that we’re not. (Anyone who says they aren’t is lying to himself or herself…) I also hate organized and active racists. If you run some old “boys” club like the Klan or the Aryan Nations (the irony here being that I hate haters…), then you can pretty much just fuck off. The best thing we can do is to address where these tendencies come from inside ourselves and do our best to eliminate them. If you need to wallow in ignorance, then perhaps you should consider a career in wordsmith-orientated field of poetry. (I’d hate you less for it…)
3) I hate it when retail outlets ask for my phone number. I like to grill them about it, and remind them of PIPEDA. Hopefully it makes them feel like shit for asking. (Although I guess that it just makes me look like a dick.)
4) I hate wrestling. I have always hated wrestling. Not to put to fine a point on it, but I will always hate wrestling. I see nothing redeeming in it. To me it’s nothing more than an Alpha male soap opera. I would rather have teeth pulled, or be attacked by a rabid porcupine than watch wrestling.
5) I think Alternative rock has turned to shit. Too much “Theory of a Nickeback” and too little Foo Fighters. I would love to see Chad Kroeger get eaten by fire ants. (I bet his screams would sound an awful lot like the last five other Nickleback singles.)
6) I hate people who talk during movies. (At the theater…)
7) Neo Conservative politicians scare the shit out of me. They go against every fibre of my being. We live in times that call for innovative thinkers and new approaches, not closed minded, regressive, and greed minded brigands that fail to understand the world has changed. I choose to include the following pundits and “news people” like Bill O'Reilly, (Culture Warrior… What a douchebag!!!) Ann Coulter (The bigger, dumber, sleazier douchebag!) and Sean Hannity (Who goes well beyond douchebag... He’s a super mega intergalactic douchebag.) Why these people feel no shame about the muck the rake is beyond me. It’s like watching a baby shit itself, and then smile at you like it just won the lotto.
8) Then again, guilty whiney Liberals are just as bad. The failure to act without the motivation of guilt is just as deplorable. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge lefty (bordering on Pinko most of the time…) but I hate it when people only react, rather than be proactive because it’s the right thing to do.
9) Any movie made by the Wayans brothers. I think they are criminally bad. The world would have been a much better place without “White Chicks.” I would rather spend weeks on end making greeting cards with the mentally ill, or perhaps watch a slide show of Mormon Square dancers ripping it up in a temple in Salt Lake City than ever watch a Wayans brother flick. (This may sound glib, but it’s the fucking gospel truth.)
10) I hate the fact that myspace’s blog editor doesn’t work properly with the Safari web browser. (It does a really piss poor job supporting Mac users.) It totally ignores punctuation. That really bakes my biscuits. Shabby, Shabby, Shabby!!!
Well that’s it for today… More to come as I think of it!
1) I hate the maudlin poetry written by scorned 20 somethings. It’s never clever or interesting. 99 times out of a hundred, it’s about how Mr. Right became Mr. Wrong. (Not to mention the overbearing and mellow dramatic injection of “I am stronger than you…” or “I’m better off without you…” or “I will survive…”) Now I realize people need to excise their sadness and anger, (and in some cases really wallow in it…) but for Christ sake try using something less derivative. Barbed wire and roses have been done to death, and for the record so has “Boys just don’t understand me.” Truthfully though, I tend to hate poetry anyway. I do however love a good story. (I will listen to a good rant till the cows come home.)
2) The statement “I’m not racist but…” which is always followed by something overtly racist. (“I like Asians, but man are they shitty drivers…”) Let’s get something straight; everyone on the planet has some sort of racist or bigoted tendencies, but that doesn’t mean we should revel in them, or delude ourselves into believing that we’re not. (Anyone who says they aren’t is lying to himself or herself…) I also hate organized and active racists. If you run some old “boys” club like the Klan or the Aryan Nations (the irony here being that I hate haters…), then you can pretty much just fuck off. The best thing we can do is to address where these tendencies come from inside ourselves and do our best to eliminate them. If you need to wallow in ignorance, then perhaps you should consider a career in wordsmith-orientated field of poetry. (I’d hate you less for it…)
3) I hate it when retail outlets ask for my phone number. I like to grill them about it, and remind them of PIPEDA. Hopefully it makes them feel like shit for asking. (Although I guess that it just makes me look like a dick.)
4) I hate wrestling. I have always hated wrestling. Not to put to fine a point on it, but I will always hate wrestling. I see nothing redeeming in it. To me it’s nothing more than an Alpha male soap opera. I would rather have teeth pulled, or be attacked by a rabid porcupine than watch wrestling.
5) I think Alternative rock has turned to shit. Too much “Theory of a Nickeback” and too little Foo Fighters. I would love to see Chad Kroeger get eaten by fire ants. (I bet his screams would sound an awful lot like the last five other Nickleback singles.)
6) I hate people who talk during movies. (At the theater…)
7) Neo Conservative politicians scare the shit out of me. They go against every fibre of my being. We live in times that call for innovative thinkers and new approaches, not closed minded, regressive, and greed minded brigands that fail to understand the world has changed. I choose to include the following pundits and “news people” like Bill O'Reilly, (Culture Warrior… What a douchebag!!!) Ann Coulter (The bigger, dumber, sleazier douchebag!) and Sean Hannity (Who goes well beyond douchebag... He’s a super mega intergalactic douchebag.) Why these people feel no shame about the muck the rake is beyond me. It’s like watching a baby shit itself, and then smile at you like it just won the lotto.
8) Then again, guilty whiney Liberals are just as bad. The failure to act without the motivation of guilt is just as deplorable. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a huge lefty (bordering on Pinko most of the time…) but I hate it when people only react, rather than be proactive because it’s the right thing to do.
9) Any movie made by the Wayans brothers. I think they are criminally bad. The world would have been a much better place without “White Chicks.” I would rather spend weeks on end making greeting cards with the mentally ill, or perhaps watch a slide show of Mormon Square dancers ripping it up in a temple in Salt Lake City than ever watch a Wayans brother flick. (This may sound glib, but it’s the fucking gospel truth.)
10) I hate the fact that myspace’s blog editor doesn’t work properly with the Safari web browser. (It does a really piss poor job supporting Mac users.) It totally ignores punctuation. That really bakes my biscuits. Shabby, Shabby, Shabby!!!
Well that’s it for today… More to come as I think of it!
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Star Spangled Burkas... OR The Muslims are Coming, The Muslims are Coming!!!
“Lie down, and lick the sorrow from your skin
Scratch the terror and begin to believe you’re strong.” – The Weakerthans
There was an interesting article in MacLean’s this week. It a nutshell, it makes a pseudo sound argument that the future belongs to Islam. The crux of the piece is distilled down to this. Islam is on the rise.
Now, this shouldn’t be too terribly surprising news for anyone. For starters, it has a vast supply of otherwise disenfranchised youth, in an area of the world that is experiencing a population boom. By sheer numbers alone it should seem fairly obvious. (Throw in abysmal education levels and a credible villain to point at, then stir and bake at 400 degrees until someone prints inflammatory cartoons…)
Ahem… I digress…
It also has something else, driving ambition. (Political will etc…) This alone is almost enough to plot the shape of the impending “New World Order.” Youth and ambition paired together spells trouble for the aging, contracting, and desperate west. The Muslim world wants in, and it seems that it won’t be held at bay for long.
It’s no wonder that everyone and their dog wants a piece of the Middle East. We’ve got to carve that sweet piece of ass up before anyone gets the wiser. Why negotiate or form alliances, when you can take it with jackboot? It sounded so easy, but alas the plans of mice and “other” men just seem to always get in the way.
It’s not just about oil, or terror, it’s about culture. (More specifically about the clash of cultures…) The obvious parallel is this. Islam is the new Communism. It’s the new lynch pin of social cataclysm, and guess what? It’s not going anywhere.
The notion of terrorism as the motivator for this clash is a duck blind. It was just the straw that broke the camels back. Terrorism has as much to do with this war as Archduke Ferdinand’s assassination did with World War One. It was the excuse. Someone had to drop the gloves sooner or later, just so we could fire this bitch up once and for all.
Oil’s not that credible a “fire” starter either. Hell, you can get oil just about anywhere. We Canadians have tons of it. So do the Russians, Nigerians, and a slew of others. (Not to mention the synthetic alternatives are pretty easy to get to… Like bio diesel… Strange that there’s no real political will to go in that direction…)
There I go wandering again…
It’s no wonder that America has been trying to drive as big a wedge as possible in the Muslim world. It has to. America is the vanguard of the west (Whether you like it or not, it’s the gospel truth…), It has to be seen as proactive. This is sink or swim time. There is no life preserver this time, and people are starting to panic. (Insert that damn Celine Dion song from Titanic here.)
The bitter irony here is that America has got itself caught in a catch 22. It has to fight, but in doing so, it is ultimately galvanizing the Islamic world against it. It’s quite the nasty little briar patch. It would almost be enough for a peace freak like me to hide in my bedroom and rock back and forth while sucking on my thumb. Boy am I ever glad I’m not the President. This would be a dilly of a pickle for any good leader. It’s got to be even tougher for Bush. Given that someone jiggling a set of car keys can distract him.
Mind you, given the level of paranoia you’d swear that Wal-Mart would be hawking burkas by next Ramadan. Maybe they’ll be next to the McDonalds.
Anyway, more as I think of it.
Scratch the terror and begin to believe you’re strong.” – The Weakerthans
There was an interesting article in MacLean’s this week. It a nutshell, it makes a pseudo sound argument that the future belongs to Islam. The crux of the piece is distilled down to this. Islam is on the rise.
Now, this shouldn’t be too terribly surprising news for anyone. For starters, it has a vast supply of otherwise disenfranchised youth, in an area of the world that is experiencing a population boom. By sheer numbers alone it should seem fairly obvious. (Throw in abysmal education levels and a credible villain to point at, then stir and bake at 400 degrees until someone prints inflammatory cartoons…)
Ahem… I digress…
It also has something else, driving ambition. (Political will etc…) This alone is almost enough to plot the shape of the impending “New World Order.” Youth and ambition paired together spells trouble for the aging, contracting, and desperate west. The Muslim world wants in, and it seems that it won’t be held at bay for long.
It’s no wonder that everyone and their dog wants a piece of the Middle East. We’ve got to carve that sweet piece of ass up before anyone gets the wiser. Why negotiate or form alliances, when you can take it with jackboot? It sounded so easy, but alas the plans of mice and “other” men just seem to always get in the way.
It’s not just about oil, or terror, it’s about culture. (More specifically about the clash of cultures…) The obvious parallel is this. Islam is the new Communism. It’s the new lynch pin of social cataclysm, and guess what? It’s not going anywhere.
The notion of terrorism as the motivator for this clash is a duck blind. It was just the straw that broke the camels back. Terrorism has as much to do with this war as Archduke Ferdinand’s assassination did with World War One. It was the excuse. Someone had to drop the gloves sooner or later, just so we could fire this bitch up once and for all.
Oil’s not that credible a “fire” starter either. Hell, you can get oil just about anywhere. We Canadians have tons of it. So do the Russians, Nigerians, and a slew of others. (Not to mention the synthetic alternatives are pretty easy to get to… Like bio diesel… Strange that there’s no real political will to go in that direction…)
There I go wandering again…
It’s no wonder that America has been trying to drive as big a wedge as possible in the Muslim world. It has to. America is the vanguard of the west (Whether you like it or not, it’s the gospel truth…), It has to be seen as proactive. This is sink or swim time. There is no life preserver this time, and people are starting to panic. (Insert that damn Celine Dion song from Titanic here.)
The bitter irony here is that America has got itself caught in a catch 22. It has to fight, but in doing so, it is ultimately galvanizing the Islamic world against it. It’s quite the nasty little briar patch. It would almost be enough for a peace freak like me to hide in my bedroom and rock back and forth while sucking on my thumb. Boy am I ever glad I’m not the President. This would be a dilly of a pickle for any good leader. It’s got to be even tougher for Bush. Given that someone jiggling a set of car keys can distract him.
Mind you, given the level of paranoia you’d swear that Wal-Mart would be hawking burkas by next Ramadan. Maybe they’ll be next to the McDonalds.
Anyway, more as I think of it.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Some facts about me… The latest addition!
1) I am prone to terrible headaches. I hate them. I’m suffering through one right now.
2) I loathe Dane Cook. There, I’ve said it! I feel great about it too. I don’t disparage his successes, I just hate his stuff. (And he’s a bit of a prima donna. He threw a nasty temper tantrum in a comedy club in Vancouver, and while I wasn’t there, I can with all honesty that no one needs that shit.)
3) I have a soft spot for cheesy Movies of the Week. (Especially if they managed to haul out anyone from the original cast of Charlie’s Angels to play the lead.) I have nothing to say in my defense in this matter.
4) My favorite hockey player of all time is Lanny McDonald. My current favorite is Miikka Kiprusoff.
5) I collect DVD’s. Currently I have about 400 of them. I try and watch a movie a day. I have always loved movies. It inspired me to go to film school. I discovered that I prefer to watch them rather than try and make them.
6) I get choked up in movies. If it’s sad, or it makes me angry, I weep like a brokenhearted schoolgirl.
7) I’m terrible with names. I never forget a face, but names slip past me really easily.
8) My first pet was a Siamese cat named Clementine. She was evil, but I loved her. My last pet was an Orange Tabby cross named Puck, who kinda looked like a Cossack. He lives with my sister now. (He’s evil too…)
9) I like to be alone. Not all the time, or even most of the time, but I do need me time too.
10) I have a knack for remembering trivial stuff about music. Who wrote a song, who produced it… that sort of stuff. Lord knows why, but I absorb that stuff easily.
11) I have committed crimes. Not major ones, but I have.
12) My favorite comedic actor is Kevin Klein. For dramas I like Jeremy Irons.
13) My favorite comedic actress is Carol Burnett. For dramas I’m a fan of Helen Mirren.
14) I have a guilty love of Iron Maiden. They are just about the best in cheese rock ever.
15) On my first ever trip to America, I played bingo at the VFW. (In the very sexy Greater Bottineau North Dakota area…)
16) Although The Calgary Flames are my favorite team, I’ve warmed up to The Minnesota Wild. I think they’re kinda plucky.
17) I really like Kraft Dinner. Always have, always will. I like to cut a little green onion into it once the cheese powder has been mixed in.
18) My most favorite meal in the universe is Spaghetti and Meatballs. Yum!
19) I threw eggs at Bryan Adams once. He was in his limo at the time. I enjoyed it.
20) My first rock concert ever was Huey Lewis and the News. My last concert was the Foo Fighters. They were better.
21) The first person I ever punched out of anger was a guy named Rodney Malloy. He’s an accountant now. I should look him up… and punch him again.
22) I hate hillbillies.
23) I kinda like Dog the bounty hunter, even though he’s a hillbilly.
24) I believe you are never too old to play with Lego, or Play dough.
25) I wish I could sleep.
2) I loathe Dane Cook. There, I’ve said it! I feel great about it too. I don’t disparage his successes, I just hate his stuff. (And he’s a bit of a prima donna. He threw a nasty temper tantrum in a comedy club in Vancouver, and while I wasn’t there, I can with all honesty that no one needs that shit.)
3) I have a soft spot for cheesy Movies of the Week. (Especially if they managed to haul out anyone from the original cast of Charlie’s Angels to play the lead.) I have nothing to say in my defense in this matter.
4) My favorite hockey player of all time is Lanny McDonald. My current favorite is Miikka Kiprusoff.
5) I collect DVD’s. Currently I have about 400 of them. I try and watch a movie a day. I have always loved movies. It inspired me to go to film school. I discovered that I prefer to watch them rather than try and make them.
6) I get choked up in movies. If it’s sad, or it makes me angry, I weep like a brokenhearted schoolgirl.
7) I’m terrible with names. I never forget a face, but names slip past me really easily.
8) My first pet was a Siamese cat named Clementine. She was evil, but I loved her. My last pet was an Orange Tabby cross named Puck, who kinda looked like a Cossack. He lives with my sister now. (He’s evil too…)
9) I like to be alone. Not all the time, or even most of the time, but I do need me time too.
10) I have a knack for remembering trivial stuff about music. Who wrote a song, who produced it… that sort of stuff. Lord knows why, but I absorb that stuff easily.
11) I have committed crimes. Not major ones, but I have.
12) My favorite comedic actor is Kevin Klein. For dramas I like Jeremy Irons.
13) My favorite comedic actress is Carol Burnett. For dramas I’m a fan of Helen Mirren.
14) I have a guilty love of Iron Maiden. They are just about the best in cheese rock ever.
15) On my first ever trip to America, I played bingo at the VFW. (In the very sexy Greater Bottineau North Dakota area…)
16) Although The Calgary Flames are my favorite team, I’ve warmed up to The Minnesota Wild. I think they’re kinda plucky.
17) I really like Kraft Dinner. Always have, always will. I like to cut a little green onion into it once the cheese powder has been mixed in.
18) My most favorite meal in the universe is Spaghetti and Meatballs. Yum!
19) I threw eggs at Bryan Adams once. He was in his limo at the time. I enjoyed it.
20) My first rock concert ever was Huey Lewis and the News. My last concert was the Foo Fighters. They were better.
21) The first person I ever punched out of anger was a guy named Rodney Malloy. He’s an accountant now. I should look him up… and punch him again.
22) I hate hillbillies.
23) I kinda like Dog the bounty hunter, even though he’s a hillbilly.
24) I believe you are never too old to play with Lego, or Play dough.
25) I wish I could sleep.
Would you believe Prime Minister of Canada...
Have you ever noticed just how much Stephen Harper looks like a robot? He reminds me of Hymie from Get Smart. He’s got that mechanical glaze in his eyes. He has all the wit and charm of a mound of granite, or at least that’s what he’d like us to think. He would prefer that we Canadians think of him as a party wonk.
I suspect he wants us to think of him as a man in overalls getting down to business. But is he really? I suspect this isn’t your daddy’s Conservative Prime Minister!
The truth is who knows? Harper has dropped a cone of silence over Ottawa. He’s been less than subtle about it too. (More like a swinging a bag of hammers in China shop, and a whole lot less than say snuggling warm fuzzy kittens in a nursery full of newborn babes…)
However, this begs another question. What’s the need for the clampdown on information? Why hold the proverbial cards close to the chest? Why does “The New Canadian Government” need to control the flow? (I’m actually surprised that there isn’t a “Ministry of Information” yet…)
I can only think of two reasons why Harper would want to restrict information. The first being that it just might be easier to criticize government, than say be one. Plugging leaks just might be harder than it looks. Maybe it’s a case of the grass is greener on the other side. Power has its perks to be sure, but I bet it has some nasty traps too.
Now the second reason has a little more meat to it. Perhaps there’s some real shit going on behind the scenes. Perhaps the rot of corruption has already started to crust at the bottom. Maybe it’s harder to keep that hillbilly-laden caucus of his in check. Reining in the whack jobs has got to put a little sweat on the brow. (Insert the theme from Deliverance here.)
This lot makes departing Premier Klein look sane, sober, and well adjusted. It won’t be too long until a cabinet minister does something stupid, (like bang hookers while on a trip to the Haig, or use the government jet to slobber over some payola scandal.) cause it’s human nature.
To assume you will survive unscathed is retarded. How many Mulroney people went down in flames?
To be fair though, he’s a well-spoken man. But he’s overly focused on keeping power. It’s the damnedest thing; his obsession with proving himself will likely be his ultimate downfall. He spends a lot of time hissing out venom at the Liberals, desperately trying to prove he’s different than the last prime minister. “Speaking out for Canadians” doesn’t seem to be a real agenda for him. It’s kinda like someone forgot to tell him he already has the job. (for now…)
Truthfully he should leave the rhetoric where in belongs, in the capable hands of people like myself. Now it’s time to get down to business. Mr. Harper, you’ve got your date at the dance. (Much to my chagrin… I think he’s evil personally, but that’s another story for another time.) So get to it. Now it’s time to prove you can do the job for real.
Well until Ignatief (or Rae, or whoever…) cleans your ever lovin’ clock. Canadians have little tolerance for smugness. The little good grace you have won’t take you far. So straighten up. And for Christ’s sake, take a gander at a poll once in a while. Being on the wrong side of what Canadians want isn’t gonna get you too far.
P.S. Rona Ambrose kinda looks like agent 99, and don’t even get me started on Peter Mackay.
I suspect he wants us to think of him as a man in overalls getting down to business. But is he really? I suspect this isn’t your daddy’s Conservative Prime Minister!
The truth is who knows? Harper has dropped a cone of silence over Ottawa. He’s been less than subtle about it too. (More like a swinging a bag of hammers in China shop, and a whole lot less than say snuggling warm fuzzy kittens in a nursery full of newborn babes…)
However, this begs another question. What’s the need for the clampdown on information? Why hold the proverbial cards close to the chest? Why does “The New Canadian Government” need to control the flow? (I’m actually surprised that there isn’t a “Ministry of Information” yet…)
I can only think of two reasons why Harper would want to restrict information. The first being that it just might be easier to criticize government, than say be one. Plugging leaks just might be harder than it looks. Maybe it’s a case of the grass is greener on the other side. Power has its perks to be sure, but I bet it has some nasty traps too.
Now the second reason has a little more meat to it. Perhaps there’s some real shit going on behind the scenes. Perhaps the rot of corruption has already started to crust at the bottom. Maybe it’s harder to keep that hillbilly-laden caucus of his in check. Reining in the whack jobs has got to put a little sweat on the brow. (Insert the theme from Deliverance here.)
This lot makes departing Premier Klein look sane, sober, and well adjusted. It won’t be too long until a cabinet minister does something stupid, (like bang hookers while on a trip to the Haig, or use the government jet to slobber over some payola scandal.) cause it’s human nature.
To assume you will survive unscathed is retarded. How many Mulroney people went down in flames?
To be fair though, he’s a well-spoken man. But he’s overly focused on keeping power. It’s the damnedest thing; his obsession with proving himself will likely be his ultimate downfall. He spends a lot of time hissing out venom at the Liberals, desperately trying to prove he’s different than the last prime minister. “Speaking out for Canadians” doesn’t seem to be a real agenda for him. It’s kinda like someone forgot to tell him he already has the job. (for now…)
Truthfully he should leave the rhetoric where in belongs, in the capable hands of people like myself. Now it’s time to get down to business. Mr. Harper, you’ve got your date at the dance. (Much to my chagrin… I think he’s evil personally, but that’s another story for another time.) So get to it. Now it’s time to prove you can do the job for real.
Well until Ignatief (or Rae, or whoever…) cleans your ever lovin’ clock. Canadians have little tolerance for smugness. The little good grace you have won’t take you far. So straighten up. And for Christ’s sake, take a gander at a poll once in a while. Being on the wrong side of what Canadians want isn’t gonna get you too far.
P.S. Rona Ambrose kinda looks like agent 99, and don’t even get me started on Peter Mackay.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Flamer!!!
I’ve been really enjoying the American sex scandal of the week. This whole congressman Mark Foley thing is funny. Very funny indeed. (Sure the man is a pedophile… but the reactionary blather is brilliant.) I love how people can pour gasoline over themselves, then light a match and say “What?” as if nothing strange was about to happen.
I also love the rich irony that a Republican congressman, who was elected on a family values platform, has been busted for wheeling underage pages from the assembly. How dumb can one man be? A little tip Mr. Foley… mackin’ on the lil’ biatches at work is generally frowned upon. Especially when your raunchy text message pops up on a cell phone with a hello kitty sticker on it. Chances are you’re fucked in the long run, and not in the way you intended. Even Michael Jackson is smart enough to keep it in the home. (And that guy is fucked!)
But what’s better than the initial scandal is the ugly backwash. Watching his contemporaries scatter like rats on a sinking ship is almost too delicious for words. Seeing fellow Republican sputter and try to react with some feigned sense of moral outrage was hysterical. Like they didn’t know. Right, and I’m the head of the Iranian Nuclear program. As if the Republican don’t have some sort of weekly circle jerk while they rub themselves with stacks of money.
“Oh Rumsey… I think I’m cumming…”
And then seeing Pat Robertson actually call Foley a “flamer” over and over again on TV just about made me cry. It was almost too funny. I think it actually broke my sense of humor. Every time he said it, it looked as if he was spitting out white vinegar and baking soda. (Like that shitty 5th grade volcano I made for the science fair…)“FLAMER!” Like he was a 12 year old, out by the bike racks waiting to bully the poor stupid bastard. “FLAMER!” like it physically hurt him to utter the word.
But then there’s nothing like a scandal to really rally the bigots. As if judgment was their own birthright. I find it funny when fundamentalists (a la 700 club…) cast the first stone. I’m willing to bet that with very little digging there’s some nasty shit they wouldn’t want aired out in public. (Would Jesus Approve? Likely not… unless Jesus was a hillbilly.
I’m willing to bet that Robertson has had a circle jerk of his own. Maybe not with his dick out (or maybe with… who knows… he hasn’t been caught yet…), but with his ego for sure.
I also love the rich irony that a Republican congressman, who was elected on a family values platform, has been busted for wheeling underage pages from the assembly. How dumb can one man be? A little tip Mr. Foley… mackin’ on the lil’ biatches at work is generally frowned upon. Especially when your raunchy text message pops up on a cell phone with a hello kitty sticker on it. Chances are you’re fucked in the long run, and not in the way you intended. Even Michael Jackson is smart enough to keep it in the home. (And that guy is fucked!)
But what’s better than the initial scandal is the ugly backwash. Watching his contemporaries scatter like rats on a sinking ship is almost too delicious for words. Seeing fellow Republican sputter and try to react with some feigned sense of moral outrage was hysterical. Like they didn’t know. Right, and I’m the head of the Iranian Nuclear program. As if the Republican don’t have some sort of weekly circle jerk while they rub themselves with stacks of money.
“Oh Rumsey… I think I’m cumming…”
And then seeing Pat Robertson actually call Foley a “flamer” over and over again on TV just about made me cry. It was almost too funny. I think it actually broke my sense of humor. Every time he said it, it looked as if he was spitting out white vinegar and baking soda. (Like that shitty 5th grade volcano I made for the science fair…)“FLAMER!” Like he was a 12 year old, out by the bike racks waiting to bully the poor stupid bastard. “FLAMER!” like it physically hurt him to utter the word.
But then there’s nothing like a scandal to really rally the bigots. As if judgment was their own birthright. I find it funny when fundamentalists (a la 700 club…) cast the first stone. I’m willing to bet that with very little digging there’s some nasty shit they wouldn’t want aired out in public. (Would Jesus Approve? Likely not… unless Jesus was a hillbilly.
I’m willing to bet that Robertson has had a circle jerk of his own. Maybe not with his dick out (or maybe with… who knows… he hasn’t been caught yet…), but with his ego for sure.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
What the fuck have I been up to?
I have spent the last week recovering from dental surgery. I think dentists are evil. As far as I’m concerned, it takes a sick person to choose to become a dentist. Let’s face it, there are less than subtle reasons why the Nazis chose dentistry as a form of torture. If you chose to become a dentist, then your probably look good in tan and black… (And you’re working for the Clampdown.)
My procedure was part extraction of a molar, and part exorcism of a cyst. (This being the unholy alliance of procedures…) The dentist, who for legal reasons shall remain nameless, tried six (count’em six…) times to freeze my jaw. Six needles. SIX!!! Then while I wasn’t frozen (after SIX needles…) decided to dig in anyway. It’s a good thing he used a bite block to keep my mouth open, otherwise he’s be missing a few digits.
The pain was intense. It felt like someone shoved a lightning bolt into my gob. I think I actually said, “Fuck you mother!!!” out loud. Well it probably sounded more like “Fhug yer muddah!” but he knew what I meant.
The whole thing lasted less than 40 minutes from the first prick to me leaving with gauze packed awkwardly between my gum and the fresh gaping maw where my tooth once was.
Then I slept… like I’ve never slept before. Happily the swelling and bruising didn’t last too long.
Other stuff…
Last weekend I played the Edmonton Yuks club, and I have to say I really enjoyed it. The crowds were great. All four shows rocked. Mike did a great job getting things rolling, and John Dore ripped it up.
I recorded the shows, and have managed to piece together enough content for a new CD. I’m really excited about it too. I’ve decided to call it “At The Mercy of Imbeciles…” It will be available really damn soon.
Still More Stuff…
My time without a day job is coming to an end. Today I got a new job. I will be working at an engineering firm. (Danger!!!) I’m looking forward to getting into the groove of things. The last couple of months have been fun, but I must admit my days are getting pretty boring.
Even more stuff…
I’m moving at the end of the month. I just got into a housing cooperative. I’m looking forward to getting out of this apartment. (if only to get away from the nightly, alcohol fuelled Balcony Oratorio, and the hillbillies having paintball fights at 3 am. That shit get tired pretty quickly.)
Anyhoo, more to come soon.
My procedure was part extraction of a molar, and part exorcism of a cyst. (This being the unholy alliance of procedures…) The dentist, who for legal reasons shall remain nameless, tried six (count’em six…) times to freeze my jaw. Six needles. SIX!!! Then while I wasn’t frozen (after SIX needles…) decided to dig in anyway. It’s a good thing he used a bite block to keep my mouth open, otherwise he’s be missing a few digits.
The pain was intense. It felt like someone shoved a lightning bolt into my gob. I think I actually said, “Fuck you mother!!!” out loud. Well it probably sounded more like “Fhug yer muddah!” but he knew what I meant.
The whole thing lasted less than 40 minutes from the first prick to me leaving with gauze packed awkwardly between my gum and the fresh gaping maw where my tooth once was.
Then I slept… like I’ve never slept before. Happily the swelling and bruising didn’t last too long.
Other stuff…
Last weekend I played the Edmonton Yuks club, and I have to say I really enjoyed it. The crowds were great. All four shows rocked. Mike did a great job getting things rolling, and John Dore ripped it up.
I recorded the shows, and have managed to piece together enough content for a new CD. I’m really excited about it too. I’ve decided to call it “At The Mercy of Imbeciles…” It will be available really damn soon.
Still More Stuff…
My time without a day job is coming to an end. Today I got a new job. I will be working at an engineering firm. (Danger!!!) I’m looking forward to getting into the groove of things. The last couple of months have been fun, but I must admit my days are getting pretty boring.
Even more stuff…
I’m moving at the end of the month. I just got into a housing cooperative. I’m looking forward to getting out of this apartment. (if only to get away from the nightly, alcohol fuelled Balcony Oratorio, and the hillbillies having paintball fights at 3 am. That shit get tired pretty quickly.)
Anyhoo, more to come soon.
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