Gave me a good chuckle, that one did.
I guess they have to learn it somewhere...
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Strippers in training
I saw the funniest thing on the way home today. There was this little girl playing out in the street with her sister, maybe like 6 years old, if that (who am I kidding, I have no idea...it was a kid, though, a really tiny one). She was dancing around and singing, doing little kid playing around-type things. Then she whet and did this crazy little pole-dance around a stop sign.
Gave me a good chuckle, that one did.
I guess they have to learn it somewhere...
Gave me a good chuckle, that one did.
I guess they have to learn it somewhere...
Monday, May 28, 2007
Yet another angry biker...
I got a bike last week. It made e very happy. I even updated my Facebook status to 'is very pleased with her new bike.' The very first day I had my shiny new bike, I got all hyped and did a big long ride down this park along the waterfront. All the time I've lived in Toronto, and the year and a half that I've been in this particular apartment, I've never been to this park, which is a mere 10 minute bike ride from my house.
I was so pumped to start biking to work every day. It's actually quicker to bike than to take the streetcar, half an hour versus 40 minutes on the TTC (barring, of course, giant rocks falling out of the sky, shootings, random street closures, construction and the barrage of other things that have manager to intersperse themselves between me and my place of employment recently). Then you get the added benefits of exercise and saving money. Well, what's not to love?
It's taken just 7 short days for me to become one of the angry ranty bike people. Biking in a city, as a mode of transportation, SUCKS big time. Granted, as I've said before, the TTC sucks worse, so one takes what one can get, I suppose.
The second day that I rode to work, I got harassed by a majorly over-testosteroned motorcycle cop for cutting up a one way street for half a block. At least I didn't get the threatened $110 ticket! And cabbies are the absolute worse. I think the next door opens out of nowhere and almost beans me I'm gonna kick a headlight in.
I was so pumped to start biking to work every day. It's actually quicker to bike than to take the streetcar, half an hour versus 40 minutes on the TTC (barring, of course, giant rocks falling out of the sky, shootings, random street closures, construction and the barrage of other things that have manager to intersperse themselves between me and my place of employment recently). Then you get the added benefits of exercise and saving money. Well, what's not to love?
It's taken just 7 short days for me to become one of the angry ranty bike people. Biking in a city, as a mode of transportation, SUCKS big time. Granted, as I've said before, the TTC sucks worse, so one takes what one can get, I suppose.
The second day that I rode to work, I got harassed by a majorly over-testosteroned motorcycle cop for cutting up a one way street for half a block. At least I didn't get the threatened $110 ticket! And cabbies are the absolute worse. I think the next door opens out of nowhere and almost beans me I'm gonna kick a headlight in.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
More Piratey Goodness
Mythbusters just did a pirate special. 2 hour special, me mateys! As a keen pirate afficianado myself, I took careful notes. However, the episode did lack any exploration of the ninjas vs. pirates aspect of things. Don't worry though, I've filled that part in below.
Things we learned:
Eyepatches – not actually due to eye gouging (which does take out some of the romance). Apparently, the theory behind eyepatches was that pirates could always have one eye ready for nightvision, so if they had to scoot below deck during the day, there keen pirate vision would be even more powerful when the flicked off the patch.
How clever is that! Ninjas don’t have eye patches.
Mythbusters verdict: I wasn’t paying attention, but they made Adam run through an obstacle course looking like an idiot, which I enjoyed.
Rum – it’s not just for drinking anymore. Rum, as laundry detergent? Also, urine, apparently, can be distilled to ammonia, which can then be used to clean your clothes. YOU CALL THAT CLEAN?!?! Ick.
Mythbusters verdict: Busted! Rum is makes bad detergent. Well thank goodness! That there’s meant to be drunk! The wee wee did a good job getting the blood out. Interestingly, the overall worst performer was the modern detergent.
Ninjas don’t drink. Losers.
I liked the part where they shot cannon balls at the dead pigs. (which were dressed as pirates, of course!)
Myth: Ninjas are cooler than pirates. My verdict – so BUSTED!
Things we learned:
Eyepatches – not actually due to eye gouging (which does take out some of the romance). Apparently, the theory behind eyepatches was that pirates could always have one eye ready for nightvision, so if they had to scoot below deck during the day, there keen pirate vision would be even more powerful when the flicked off the patch.
How clever is that! Ninjas don’t have eye patches.
Mythbusters verdict: I wasn’t paying attention, but they made Adam run through an obstacle course looking like an idiot, which I enjoyed.
Rum – it’s not just for drinking anymore. Rum, as laundry detergent? Also, urine, apparently, can be distilled to ammonia, which can then be used to clean your clothes. YOU CALL THAT CLEAN?!?! Ick.
Mythbusters verdict: Busted! Rum is makes bad detergent. Well thank goodness! That there’s meant to be drunk! The wee wee did a good job getting the blood out. Interestingly, the overall worst performer was the modern detergent.
Ninjas don’t drink. Losers.
I liked the part where they shot cannon balls at the dead pigs. (which were dressed as pirates, of course!)
Myth: Ninjas are cooler than pirates. My verdict – so BUSTED!
I'm such a reality TV geek!
All of these Big Brother commercials are getting me just a tad too excited, methinks.
I don't know what my obsession with Big Brother is. This was the first reality series I ever watched. The first season of Big Brother was the greatest thing ever. Completely not typical - the contestants were all decent people, who seemed to genuinely like each other. Really. Oh, Chicken George, one-legged dude, funky hair chick, you guys were the best reality TV cast ever! No season has even come close to that first one for me. But I still shiver in anticipation for every new season.
I also want to marry Kaysar - he got so robbed. Twice.
I was a very ardently anti-reality TV person for a very long time. I was very vocally and fervently anti-reality TV even long after I'd slipped deeply into its tender embraces. Oh yes, there were many, many justifications. "Well, yes, I watch The Mole too, but that's intellectual." (This statement applied to the first season only, far before it went celebrity and became one of the most ridiculous offerings out there. And so it went...now my sole refuge is that I don't watch Survivor. Even as I type, 1 vs. 100 is on in the background. But that one's OK...because it has Bob Saget in it.
See? I still can't accept the geekdom. Maybe one day. Is there a support group for this?
Hee hee...the commercial's on again. Makes me all tingly inside.
I don't know what my obsession with Big Brother is. This was the first reality series I ever watched. The first season of Big Brother was the greatest thing ever. Completely not typical - the contestants were all decent people, who seemed to genuinely like each other. Really. Oh, Chicken George, one-legged dude, funky hair chick, you guys were the best reality TV cast ever! No season has even come close to that first one for me. But I still shiver in anticipation for every new season.
I also want to marry Kaysar - he got so robbed. Twice.
I was a very ardently anti-reality TV person for a very long time. I was very vocally and fervently anti-reality TV even long after I'd slipped deeply into its tender embraces. Oh yes, there were many, many justifications. "Well, yes, I watch The Mole too, but that's intellectual." (This statement applied to the first season only, far before it went celebrity and became one of the most ridiculous offerings out there. And so it went...now my sole refuge is that I don't watch Survivor. Even as I type, 1 vs. 100 is on in the background. But that one's OK...because it has Bob Saget in it.
See? I still can't accept the geekdom. Maybe one day. Is there a support group for this?
Hee hee...the commercial's on again. Makes me all tingly inside.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Damn you Facebook!
Well, it's finally happened. Facebook Mobile has come to Canada. Not only must I be tormented by the constant urge to sign in and see just how (un)popular I am, but now I can have my phone announce exactly when there's the tiniest bit of activity in my little Facebook microcosm. And reply, from my cell. Because I'm just that important, that I need the ability to update my Facebook status while I'm eating lunch, lost in the woods, sleeping, and so on.
There are possibilities here though - Facebook contest for status update from the weirdest place? Hmm...That has promise.
There are possibilities here though - Facebook contest for status update from the weirdest place? Hmm...That has promise.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Interesting fact for the day
It is physically impossible to lick your own elbow.
Well - apparently not, because a friend of a friend can apparently do it, but whatever.
That - however, is not the interesting part. The interesting part is that if you happen to casually mention this fact, whoever you are talking to will automatically attempt to prove you wrong. Even if you are in a crowded restaurant, bar, or whatnot.
Try to keep from laughing too soon, it just gets better the longer you let your friends (or boss!) twist themselves around with their tongues hanging out of their mouths - enjoy!
Well - apparently not, because a friend of a friend can apparently do it, but whatever.
That - however, is not the interesting part. The interesting part is that if you happen to casually mention this fact, whoever you are talking to will automatically attempt to prove you wrong. Even if you are in a crowded restaurant, bar, or whatnot.
Try to keep from laughing too soon, it just gets better the longer you let your friends (or boss!) twist themselves around with their tongues hanging out of their mouths - enjoy!
Saturday, May 19, 2007
What gets red wine stains out?
My apartment is drenched in red wine. It's everywhere. There have been quite a few incidents involving drunken people dropping things. Surprisingly - not any of them have even been me. (I think, at least, there's one that I can't remember happening, but I'm going to assume that one was someone else. My new Neil Gaimen hardcover book - and I usually never even buy hard covers, because theoy cost way to much - is now dyed red.
Shhh...don't tell my landlord. Although, I don't feel as bad about that as I should. But my oven hasn't worked in a year, so I think we're even.
Shhh...don't tell my landlord. Although, I don't feel as bad about that as I should. But my oven hasn't worked in a year, so I think we're even.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
I want to be a pirate when I grow up
Jebus fucking hell – how did I just find out about this?!?!
I’m, perhaps, it has been suggested by others...just a tad obsessed with pirates. Just a touch. Ok, so it’s true that I can no longer manage to dress without having at least one item of clothing that has a skull and crossbones on it. Maybe I get a little more excited about International Talk Like a Pirate Day than I do about Christmas (September 19th! Just 125 days away!). At least I don’t wear an eye patch, so just chill the fuck out everyone.
So – how is it possible, with my overwhelming ‘piratetude’, that I was unaware that there’s going to be a pirate themed reality show?!?!
Pirate Master – premieres May 31st, at 8/7c. Of course, I’m not going to be on said reality show – because I just found out about it now. I am DESTINED to be on reality television. And THIS should have been the one!
But alas – it is not to be. I’m sure that my beloved Canadian citizenship would have also eliminated me from potential participation on said reality series full of piratey goodness, but still – I cannot believe that I’m just finding out about this now.
If this tv show sucks – I’m gonna be seriously pissed. There may have to be some pillaging involved.
I’m, perhaps, it has been suggested by others...just a tad obsessed with pirates. Just a touch. Ok, so it’s true that I can no longer manage to dress without having at least one item of clothing that has a skull and crossbones on it. Maybe I get a little more excited about International Talk Like a Pirate Day than I do about Christmas (September 19th! Just 125 days away!). At least I don’t wear an eye patch, so just chill the fuck out everyone.
So – how is it possible, with my overwhelming ‘piratetude’, that I was unaware that there’s going to be a pirate themed reality show?!?!
Pirate Master – premieres May 31st, at 8/7c. Of course, I’m not going to be on said reality show – because I just found out about it now. I am DESTINED to be on reality television. And THIS should have been the one!
But alas – it is not to be. I’m sure that my beloved Canadian citizenship would have also eliminated me from potential participation on said reality series full of piratey goodness, but still – I cannot believe that I’m just finding out about this now.
If this tv show sucks – I’m gonna be seriously pissed. There may have to be some pillaging involved.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
My hero, Bruce Campbell
He kills zombies, he's Elvis, he made Xena watchable, he has a boomstick, and apparently, he can do all this and smell nice at the same time.
Oh, Bruce. Is there anything you can't do?
Gimme some sugar baby.
Oh, Bruce. Is there anything you can't do?
Gimme some sugar baby.
What I wouldn't give for some decent cheese curd right now
Ick...rain. Nasty, spitty, cold rain - the kind that stings.
And, of course, everyone in the City of Toronto forgets how to drive the second the first speck of rain hits the ground. Not that they were particularly stellar in this department before. (Of course, this observation coming from an as of yet not fully licensed drive herself - but still...) And don't even get me started on Toronto drivers come wintertime...
As a former Montréaler myself, I tend to get a serious hate-on for my adopted home of Toronto if I go to long without a little sojourn back home.
Lets do a little comparison.
Toronto: Hey look, a huge slab of rock fell off of the tallest office building in the city. Lets close one of the busiest streets in the downtown core for the next week. (This latest coming after this winter's 'hey look, ice is falling off of buildings. In the winter. Ohhh...shocker. Lets close the main highway into downtown Toronto for 3 days.')
((OK...Yes, ice falling off of the CN Tower is, perhaps, fairly alarming, but calm down people. The Gardner is pretty far away from the Tower.))
(((why am I so bracket-happy today?)))
Montréal: Hey look, concrete is falling off of the roof of the Big O (aka. former home of the Expos. Also aka. (for those who have already let my dear Expos fade from their memories) big stadium.) Cool. Let's get another beer.
Toronto: Well, it's just about mid-July now, I guess it's warm enough to put away my $400 North Face down jacket. Careful, though. It's almost August. Don't let it get too far away.
Montréal: I wear running shoes all winter.
Toronto: You'd like poutine, you say? Lovely choice, tonight we have a lovely variation fashioned from the rare Tibetan purple potato with a beef-cheek gravy and soy cheese reduction. The potatoes were peeled by vestal virgins. Only $120 per portion!
Montréal: You fuck with my poutine, I drown you in the St. Lawrence River.
(And with just cause.)
Toronto: Well, just because we haven't won the Cup since 1967 doesn't mean this isn't the year. Oh, wait, yes it does...
Montréal: Umm...I think 1993 is a little more recent than 1967...yes?
(And learn how to spell Toronto! L-E-A-V-E-S, say it with me people.)
Yes, there's stuff about Montréal that sucks too. Not as much as the TTC (Toronto Transit Commission) though. Who builds a subway that runs outside in Canada? Ummm...I think it snows here in the winter. Subway+snow and ice = bad.
This all stems from the hour and forty-five minutes that it took me to travel the maybe two clicks (click=kilometre, for any American readers out there. Kilometre=oh, nevermind, go look it up) from work back home today. Not only was I foiled by the closure of King Street due to the aforementioned falling rock incident, but there was also a traffic accident caused by the incredibly inept 'driving' of Torontonians. Then my streetcar decided to short turn, so I got to go stand in the rain and wait for another one...ARGH
What did I do in a past life that was so evil that I've come to deserve an apparent lifetime dependence on public transportation?
I want poutine :(
And Spruce Beer. And smoked meat. And bagels. Oh, sigh, Montréal bagels...yummy. And to be hit on by a dirty middle aged drunken francophone. Oh, wait - I don't miss that part.
Who am I kidding, yes I do.
And, of course, everyone in the City of Toronto forgets how to drive the second the first speck of rain hits the ground. Not that they were particularly stellar in this department before. (Of course, this observation coming from an as of yet not fully licensed drive herself - but still...) And don't even get me started on Toronto drivers come wintertime...
As a former Montréaler myself, I tend to get a serious hate-on for my adopted home of Toronto if I go to long without a little sojourn back home.
Lets do a little comparison.
Toronto: Hey look, a huge slab of rock fell off of the tallest office building in the city. Lets close one of the busiest streets in the downtown core for the next week. (This latest coming after this winter's 'hey look, ice is falling off of buildings. In the winter. Ohhh...shocker. Lets close the main highway into downtown Toronto for 3 days.')
((OK...Yes, ice falling off of the CN Tower is, perhaps, fairly alarming, but calm down people. The Gardner is pretty far away from the Tower.))
(((why am I so bracket-happy today?)))
Montréal: Hey look, concrete is falling off of the roof of the Big O (aka. former home of the Expos. Also aka. (for those who have already let my dear Expos fade from their memories) big stadium.) Cool. Let's get another beer.
Toronto: Well, it's just about mid-July now, I guess it's warm enough to put away my $400 North Face down jacket. Careful, though. It's almost August. Don't let it get too far away.
Montréal: I wear running shoes all winter.
Toronto: You'd like poutine, you say? Lovely choice, tonight we have a lovely variation fashioned from the rare Tibetan purple potato with a beef-cheek gravy and soy cheese reduction. The potatoes were peeled by vestal virgins. Only $120 per portion!
Montréal: You fuck with my poutine, I drown you in the St. Lawrence River.
(And with just cause.)
Toronto: Well, just because we haven't won the Cup since 1967 doesn't mean this isn't the year. Oh, wait, yes it does...
Montréal: Umm...I think 1993 is a little more recent than 1967...yes?
(And learn how to spell Toronto! L-E-A-V-E-S, say it with me people.)
Yes, there's stuff about Montréal that sucks too. Not as much as the TTC (Toronto Transit Commission) though. Who builds a subway that runs outside in Canada? Ummm...I think it snows here in the winter. Subway+snow and ice = bad.
This all stems from the hour and forty-five minutes that it took me to travel the maybe two clicks (click=kilometre, for any American readers out there. Kilometre=oh, nevermind, go look it up) from work back home today. Not only was I foiled by the closure of King Street due to the aforementioned falling rock incident, but there was also a traffic accident caused by the incredibly inept 'driving' of Torontonians. Then my streetcar decided to short turn, so I got to go stand in the rain and wait for another one...ARGH
What did I do in a past life that was so evil that I've come to deserve an apparent lifetime dependence on public transportation?
I want poutine :(
And Spruce Beer. And smoked meat. And bagels. Oh, sigh, Montréal bagels...yummy. And to be hit on by a dirty middle aged drunken francophone. Oh, wait - I don't miss that part.
Who am I kidding, yes I do.
So THIS is what 7:30 in the morning looks like
OK - something's wrong. It's 7:33 in the morning, and I'm awake. Not only awake, but coherent as well (look, I'm blogging!). I could almost be tempted to do dishes.
This is not normal.
I've started taking that melatonin stuff. It's probably some crazy psychosomatic thing, but it actually seems to be working. Look at me - awake more that 10 minutes before I have to leave for work, just like a normal human being. I think I'm actually going to book that driving test that I've been avoiding for months.
Interesting. However, if this stuff is actually working, then it's got to have some horrible side effect. I'll probably have gills by tomorrow.
But hey, if I do, at least maybe I'll actually have the energy to go swimming!
This is not normal.
I've started taking that melatonin stuff. It's probably some crazy psychosomatic thing, but it actually seems to be working. Look at me - awake more that 10 minutes before I have to leave for work, just like a normal human being. I think I'm actually going to book that driving test that I've been avoiding for months.
Interesting. However, if this stuff is actually working, then it's got to have some horrible side effect. I'll probably have gills by tomorrow.
But hey, if I do, at least maybe I'll actually have the energy to go swimming!
Monday, May 14, 2007
Boys in dresses are hot
I think that everyone should be exposed to the fabulousness of Eddie Izzard. Not only is he the star of the very excellent show The Riches, but he’s also a fantastically hysterical stand up.
Also, he’s sexy as hell. Granted, I have a touch of a transvestite fetish. (Of course, I’m pretty sure that all started with Tim Curry’s fantastic portrayal of the lovely transgalactic Transalvanian transvestite in the cinematic masterpiece Rocky Horror Picture Show). Mix that in with the British accent, and I’m just done. DONE, I say.
Anyway, why should I go on and on, when I could just give you this to watch instead:
Also, he’s sexy as hell. Granted, I have a touch of a transvestite fetish. (Of course, I’m pretty sure that all started with Tim Curry’s fantastic portrayal of the lovely transgalactic Transalvanian transvestite in the cinematic masterpiece Rocky Horror Picture Show). Mix that in with the British accent, and I’m just done. DONE, I say.
Anyway, why should I go on and on, when I could just give you this to watch instead:
Thursday, May 10, 2007
poke
Everyone keeps poking me!!!
Granted, I bring it on myself. Someone started a global poke war against on of my friends, and I seized upon it with a vengeance. Poking people is fun.
But now, it's just getting ridiculous. Random guys that I made out with once at a wedding, that girl that I was tight with for about 2 weeks back in grade 6, people I'm not even sure I've ever met...
Fuck you Facebook! I'm covered in virtual bruises from all of this digital poking. I feel like the pixels are getting poked right off of me.
But I just can't help myself - I need to keep poking back. I WILL outpoke everyone!
I just have one thing to say about all of this:
Pokepokepoke
Poke…………….poke
Poke………………poke
Poke……………….poke
Poke………………poke
Poke……………..poke
Poke poke poke
Poke
Poke
Poke
Poke
……….Pokepoke
….Poke…………Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
….Poke………….Poke
……….Pokepoke
Poke……………..Poke
Poke…………..Poke
Poke………. Poke
Poke…….Poke
Poke…Poke
Pokepoke
Poke…Poke
Poke……Poke
Poke………Poke
Poke………….Poke
Poke……………..Poke
Pokepokepokepokepoke
Pokepokepokepokepoke
Poke
Poke
Pokepokepoke
Pokepokepoke
Poke
Poke
Pokepokepokepokepoke
Pokepokepokepokepoke
Granted, I bring it on myself. Someone started a global poke war against on of my friends, and I seized upon it with a vengeance. Poking people is fun.
But now, it's just getting ridiculous. Random guys that I made out with once at a wedding, that girl that I was tight with for about 2 weeks back in grade 6, people I'm not even sure I've ever met...
Fuck you Facebook! I'm covered in virtual bruises from all of this digital poking. I feel like the pixels are getting poked right off of me.
But I just can't help myself - I need to keep poking back. I WILL outpoke everyone!
I just have one thing to say about all of this:
Pokepokepoke
Poke…………….poke
Poke………………poke
Poke……………….poke
Poke………………poke
Poke……………..poke
Poke poke poke
Poke
Poke
Poke
Poke
……….Pokepoke
….Poke…………Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
Poke……………….Poke
….Poke………….Poke
……….Pokepoke
Poke……………..Poke
Poke…………..Poke
Poke………. Poke
Poke…….Poke
Poke…Poke
Pokepoke
Poke…Poke
Poke……Poke
Poke………Poke
Poke………….Poke
Poke……………..Poke
Pokepokepokepokepoke
Pokepokepokepokepoke
Poke
Poke
Pokepokepoke
Pokepokepoke
Poke
Poke
Pokepokepokepokepoke
Pokepokepokepokepoke
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Umm..Paper. No, wait. Rock!
Yes kids, I think I've found it...my destiny.
I will be the World Rock Paper Scissors Champion!
It's fate. The World Championships are in Toronto, my very own hometown. It's meant to be.
I was actually a moderately serious athlete back in the day. I coulda been a contender, all that business. That sport, wrestling, required quite a bit of physical exertion - not really my style. Then we have the next echelon, bowling, darts, pool and whatnot. All 'sports' that you can participate in while drinking. Which works for me. Unfortunately, these things all require some degree of aim, physical dexterity, concentration and/or practice. So while I may enjoy them, I really suck at them. (except for bumper bowling, but even I admit that's way too pussy to be seen participating in). Now this Rock Paper Scissors thing - that I think I can handle.
Maybe once I conquer the Rock Paper Scissors (shit, why is scissors so hard to spell? Stupid silent c.) world, I'll start the World Call-it-Heads-or-Tails Championship.
I will be the World Rock Paper Scissors Champion!
It's fate. The World Championships are in Toronto, my very own hometown. It's meant to be.
I was actually a moderately serious athlete back in the day. I coulda been a contender, all that business. That sport, wrestling, required quite a bit of physical exertion - not really my style. Then we have the next echelon, bowling, darts, pool and whatnot. All 'sports' that you can participate in while drinking. Which works for me. Unfortunately, these things all require some degree of aim, physical dexterity, concentration and/or practice. So while I may enjoy them, I really suck at them. (except for bumper bowling, but even I admit that's way too pussy to be seen participating in). Now this Rock Paper Scissors thing - that I think I can handle.
Maybe once I conquer the Rock Paper Scissors (shit, why is scissors so hard to spell? Stupid silent c.) world, I'll start the World Call-it-Heads-or-Tails Championship.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Forwarding - like Spandex, a right, not a privilege
Ok, seriously – who taught Grandpa how to forward? Really…
It’s cute and all how he prints out the schedule of the hockey games on TV and whatnot for the other denizens of the nursing home. He dug up some cool pics of me from when I was a kid, managed to scan them and email them to me (and hells no, I’m not posting them), awesome.
But – whoever taught him what the forward button does must be punished.
Mostly, I get stuff that’s just lame, which is fine. Mildly aggravating, but whatever. Pictures of puppy dogs or stupid poems and shit like that.
At one point, during the proliferation of all those birthday alarm & photosharing/networking dealies, I decided that it would be a good idea to sign up for one (and then of course proceeded to never again touch the stupid thing). And you know, after the sign up thing, there’s the inevitable ‘Invite your friends!’ plea. So, I think, hey, why not invite Grandpa. It’ll make him feel special, right? Apparently not, because what I get instead is a scolding email, from my 84 year old grandfather patiently explaining that he chooses not to register for such things because they will proceed to sell his email address which will then result in him getting spam. OK – fine, fuck you grandpa, I’m just trying to stay connected…but whatever.
But then – I get this great forward from Gramps, extolling the dangers of forwarding.
Did we all catch the irony there? You just FORWARDED me and email warning me not to FORWARD things!!!
The email, which was completely ridiculous, (big bold red text, ‘This is from an RCMP officer!’. Well shit, it’s red text, it must be true, right?), was going on about how when you sign a petition your email address will get eaten be spammers, etc. (marginally true, but they have much better & more effective ways to get your info than by pretending to care about saving spotted owls).
Of course, this prompted me to shoot off a quick, sarcastic note pointing this out to my Grandfather.
I just punked off Grandpa. By email. I’m sooo going to hell.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Look who's evil now!
Yea for Evil Dead the Musical! Or, woop woop, as we say in the Evil Dead Facebook Group.
Everyone should come to Toronto to see this theatrical masterpiece. Especially all you Americans who let it close after like 2 week in New York. Y'alls don't know what's good for you. What, everyone had to see Cats or fucking Phantom for the 37th time?
The talking moose is my favorite. :)
I'm still doing the Necronomicon!
Everyone should come to Toronto to see this theatrical masterpiece. Especially all you Americans who let it close after like 2 week in New York. Y'alls don't know what's good for you. What, everyone had to see Cats or fucking Phantom for the 37th time?
The talking moose is my favorite. :)
I'm still doing the Necronomicon!
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