Scrabble: Fun for the Whole Family

This is a screenshot of a scrabble game I had recently with a friend. Can you BELIEVE that one? Haha. She finally conceded because further play was obviously futile. On this version you can look up words before you play them... and of course I had to check DIPTO. C'mon, you never know!

I used to play scrabble with my Mom. Our games would take hours! Hmm. She didn't seem to have much fun. I recently came across this video clip from a typical scrabble scenario with her. I had a pretty good chuckle. She's such a good sport.

Data Entry Worker?

What is wrong with this picture?

I saw this ad on the right hand side of my Facebook page. Something didn't match up.

What kind of "data" are we talking about here?

Girls... Are you gonna be a SUCKER?

Oh man... I was already laughing today at what gullible people forward to others on email and/or Facebook FunWall. Then while I was researching it all on Snopes.com, I ran across this - http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/hoaxes/fellatio.asp. It's a hoax page about how people got suckered into thinking that this fake news story (Study: Fellatio may significantly decrease the risk of breast cancer in women) was actually real! Hahaha. I guess this made its rounds to many inboxes and also made some foreign newspapers! (And why wouldn't it, since I'm sure many of the forwarders and publishers were men!)

I'm not sure why people can't figure out on their own that these things are hoaxes. What, with doctors named Lictepeen and Shafteer? That should've been the first clue.

Apparently the so-called research consisted of two groups, women who had performed fellatio and swallowed on a regular basis and women who had not or did not swallow. And guess what? The group of women who had performed and swallowed had a breast cancer rate of 1.9% and the group who had not had a breast cancer rate of 10.4%. Thems are some baaaad odds girls!!!

And I love this part:

Dr. Len Lictepeen, deputy chief medical officer for the American Cancer Society, said women should not overlook or "play down" these findings. "This will hopefully change women's practice and patterns, resulting in a severe drop in the future number of cases," Lictepeen said.

It's definitely in men's best interest to make sure this hoax hits EVERY woman's inbox he knows and that it gets forwarded to everyone they know and everyone they know... FunWall on Facebook could have a hayday with this! Judging by how many people get duped by all the other chain letters out there, there must be SOMEONE who will be a sucker for this one. You can only wish boys. Oh, woops, pardon the pun.

Laptop in the Shop

My laptop is in the shop getting fixed right now. I'm paying around $50 to see if I need to buy a new one or not. I dropped it off last Weds and haven't heard back yet. Why is it taking so long?!?

Hmmm. I didn't erase anything off my computer before bringing it in. I can just see it now. The fixit guy is sitting in the back of the shop reading all my previous blog posts. For hours on end.

I'm not sure my old blog posts are THAT fascinating though. Perhaps for an old Asian guy in computer engineering who normally fixes university computers with el-boringo academic shit on them.

Yeah, perhaps then.

I feel violated. Stop looking at stuff on my laptop and return it already!

Il Carpaccio di Gamba

There has been a lot of hoopla over whether adding a 4th blade to razors was really necessary. This cartoon at http://www.offthemark.com/ makes the point well.

To me, triple blades already shave close. I mean, how much closer than close can you really get before you're removing skin?

I went through this recently when I bought a new set of razors... Holy SHARP! I felt like an Italian Chef carving meat with that thing! Unlike Kramer, I've never thought of preparing dinner in the shower! So instead of making Carpaccio di Manzo all’Olio di Tartufo Estivo Carpaccio (thinly sliced raw beef tenderloin with capers, shaved Parmesan and black truffle oil), I could make Carpaccio di Gamba all’Olio di Tartufo Estivo Carpaccio (thinly sliced raw LEG). Apparently, the most difficult part of preparing carpaccio is the slicing of the meat. I dunno but with these razors, the slices are coming off pretty damn easy!

According to this recipe: Carpaccio Capers, lean meat, especially the rump, is best for carpaccio as it has more flavour. Hmm, I never thought of shaving my rump, but that would be really handy. And there's a seemingly endless supply of beef there...

Raw Beef Carpaccio

Profanity is FUN!

Apparently a British study has found that swearing on the job can reduce stress and boost employee morale. (See article: What the ...? Workplace profanity boosts morale: study).

Interesting. I knew I was doing a good thing by swearing at the printer all the time! If my supervisor ever walks in (yeah, could happen), I'll just tell him that "frequent swearing can reinforce solidarity among staff and enable them to express their feelings, such as frustration, and develop social relationships." He's in research. He'll know it must be true!

Although I'm not sure what social relationships cursing would end up developing... or why. Will people think I'm cool because of my colourful language and want to get to know me better? I highly doubt it. Will they form a bond over how universally frustrating the printer is, and a relationship then blossom via an intense empathy for each others trials and tribulations? I doubt that too. I think I'll keep trying to stifle it as long as I know others are within earshot.

Driving, on the other hand, is a completely different story. I'm not getting mad while driving. I'm just expressing myself through profanity... It's pantloads of fun! Profanity makes me feel good, especially when directed at stupid people who don't know it. Hence, other drivers. On the road there's no lack of targets for my morale-boosting antics. And since when does such fun NOT improve the morale on a road trip?

Cat Alarm

Rose sent me a link to this video - How cat owners wake up.

Funny.

Now I know why I have bags under my eyes in the morning! (See: Rude Awakenings).

Free Bike!

My sister came across this ad on Craig's List.

Click image to enlarge. Click HERE to see ad...

It reads:


"This bike is a piece of CRAP, i want it out of my yard. It is available to any one but MARK!!! So email me if you want directions to get it."







I wonder who "MARK" is... Must be her smartass hubby who would gladly claim it as his, but then keep it in the backyard just to grind on her last nerve.

What would be funny is if I got this bike for shits and giggles. I could ride it with my special friend helmet and my neon goggles. Sweet! I feel a halloween costume idea brewing here...

Fakers

An army friend of mine was telling me about a guy at the bar the other night who was this close --> <-- to getting beat to a bloody pulp. I guess the guy was bragging about being in the army and how he was in Afghanistan for two years. My friend and his army buddies (who had actually been there and lost comrades) saw right through it. They started asking questions. Basically, the guy's life depended on how he answered these questions. Finally, when he confessed to being totally full of shit, his life was spared.

He also told me that a lot of people fake being in the army when out on Remembrance Day. Keep in mind, this is amongst hoardes of guys in uniform. Are these fakers completely mental? That's like some dope off the street trying to scrub in for surgery. Guaranteed, he's not going to be able to pull that off for long.

I told my friend that I noticed another time of year a when lots of people pretend to be soldiers... Halloween. What a bunch of nutbars with their fake cammy outfits and fake guns. Hey, we can see right through you, mothafockas.

Ramblings from a messy desk... and even messier head

Optimism.
The other day I told someone that my brain was half empty. But I'm an optimist, so I like to think of of my brain as half full...

Dating.
I always forget the meaning of 'later' as in when a guys says, "call you later". In girlspeak, it means "later TODAY"... in boyspeak it could mean 'later today' (not likely), 'later this week' or even 'later, in our next life'.

Pedestrians.
Why are they so stunned? Could they walk any slower across the street while everyone WAITS? Some of them even run to get to the crosswalk and then revert to slow-mo as they cross. The music playing in my car even slows down as I wait. Sometimes I clean my car, make a few phone calls and paint my nails while they cross. People, snap out of it!

Cars.
Well, I totalled my car for the umpteenth time. Yeah, that's right: umpteenth. My little Honda gave in like it was made of tin foil. Oh yeah, I think it might be. The guy who hit it was Asian, 82 years old and didn't speak English. His car (the torpedo/tank) was unharmed during the incident. Freakin indestructible. Methinks my next car should be a 1995 Volvo.

Vitamin C.
I love vitamin C pills. Chalk full of fake orange goodness. Yum. Hmm, maybe that's why my dentist asked why there was no more enamel on my molars...

Nectarines.
Why do I always get suckered into buying them at the grocery store? Every effen year. Somehow they go straight from rock hard to rotten. Every effen time. Slow learner.

Ice Cream.
I figured out why my Dad has ice cream left in the freezer from when I visited two weeks ago. This had me puzzled. The trick? Keep the freezer so cold that it's literally impossible to scoop more than half a centimetre of ice cream out at a time. Pretty soon you give up. And then try to straighten out the spoon handle.

Quote of the Day.
"I'm trying to turn down the suck in my life, and turn up the awesome." - Jensies

Optimism, again, sorta.
And if at first you don't succeed, keep tryin' (to turn down the suck). Someone please tell me, where's the freakin' knob already???

Balls... ?

This is just weird (really, what on this blog could pass as non-weird) but I've had a song in my head all morning. Not sure if you'd know the tune, but the lyrics go:

Do your balls hang low
Do you swing them to and fro
Can you tie them in a knot
Can you tie them in a bow

There are several problems with this scenario. They are, as I see it, four fold:

1) My sanity, but beyond that...
2) Those are all the words I know. So those same stupid lyrics spin around in my brain like a broken record. Krike.
3) It also makes one start to ponder; how low can they go? Do they swing to and fro? Could you tie them in a knot, could you tie them in a bow? Could you? I bet some can. I mean, if there are penis controtionists like the Puppetry of the Penis guys, there must be ball sack deformists as well. It only stands to reason.
4) When lyrics are in your head, you just want to sing them out loud. It seems the only way to purge. These ones? No purging was done on campus this morning. In fact, I can't seem to utter these ones out loud. At all.


Alas, my mind wanders back to... Could you tie them in a knot?

Hmmm. I actually don't enjoy thinking about balls this much. I'd better listen to some Sound of Music and get the balls outta my head... I've got big balls... Get your balls to the wall... Chocolate salty balls... UGH.

Coffee Abstainer? What the?

Why are coffee drinkers so incredibly shocked when people tell them they don't drink it?

The jaw drops to the floor and the question inevitably follows- "You WHAT? You don't... Y-Y-Y-YOU DON'T DRINK COFFEE????" It's almost like they were just told that someone doesn't brush their teeth... or even breathe. Of course this groundbreaking discovery usually comes in the middle of a coffeeshop where you uh, invited the person to for a, ahem, coffee...

Then follows a barrage of questions.

You don't drink ANY coffee, like ever?
Not even iced coffee?
WHY NOT?
What do you do? Like, in the morning... Uh, how do you... ?

Mass confusion ensues. It blows their mind. (It's almost but not quite as profound as when someone says they don't drink.) Why? Well, because coffee is a double whammy of goodness. It's a yummy and effective drug delivery system. Pretty damn ideal folks. Mmmmm cooffeeeee. I'm slurpin' one down at this very moment.

I'll have to reread this and make corrections after the caffeine hits.

The Invention of the Machine Gun

The invention of the machine gun has to be one of the most influential inventions of all time. On one hand, it sucks. To increase the efficiency of killing people is certainly not a happy thing at all. Nope, not happy. I would think.

But could you imagine an action flick nowadays without the "rat-tat-tat-tat!!!" of a semi-automatic? Would Rambo have been "Rambo" without the huge gun and ammunition belt slung around his shoulder? (Um, I'm trying to think about what Rambo looked like and I'm picturing him with the gun and ammunition belt... too lazy to Google it).

So yeah there's that. But there's the many other influences the machine gun has had on society today. The shooter belt made to look like a belt of bullets... ah ah? Yeah, what would we do without that? And machine gun-style water guns? The machine gun made water guns cool again.

The biggest thing, to me, is the sound a machine gun makes... How many things do we describe with that sound effect? A friend of mine said her husband's snore sounded like a machine gun the other night. She had no idea what it was at first, and then he woke up in mid-machine gun snore and he couldn't believe he was making that sound! Also, what about the rat-tat-tat-tat of a machine gun fart? How else would you describe the fart to someone without the semi-automatic reference??? Yep, that's a rapid fire weapon if I've ever heard one!!!

Cartoonize me!!!

The shit that people can waste time on... I've been playing on the Simpsons Movie website, Simpsonizing myself and a few other people I know. I wanna do all my friends!!! Here is one rendition... You upload a picture of yourself and it converts to the Simpson version, but then you can adjust it. So I changed a few things (to make myself less hideous of course, haha, jk...) just to make it look more like me. Of course I had to change the nose to the pig nose version, but I don't know why the skin went so dark. Oh what a lovely tan I have!!! Oh well.


Now go waste some time and send me the fruits of your labour: Simpsonize Me.

Facebook Friends

I find it interesting that people who would never pick up the phone to call you are so quick to add you as a friend on Facebook. I've heard of a few people who didn't even recognize the said 'friend' at first... My friend Kim had this experience recently. She emailed me about it. I got a good chuckle.

I remember who [he] is!! I throw up on his shoes, and he was totally in love!!! Years later he called Mom and Dad's place and asked for me, I had moved out. He asked if he could leave a message, Dad said okay. "Can you tell Kim to Fuck Off?" Dad said he would pass on the message. LOL. What the?

Awkward

I'm always self-conscious about people using my washroom (the one just off the bedroom). I prefer to do a 'scan' before anyone goes in there. Wayward hairs (I shed a lot when I brush my hair), unidentified gunk on the mirror, an unflushed toilet (c'mon, if it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown flush it down) and underwear that likes to hang out on the floor a little longer than it should are just some things to be removed before public entry.

I also need to ensure that the trash can doesn't have anything visible in it that would make a nosy garbage-glancer invariably throw up in their mouth a little. Not that there's anything gross in there, uh, most of the time anyways… But some things can be misconstrued. For instance, once I cut my leg shaving and was bleeding like crazy. Of course the bloody tissue was visible in the trash and I wondered if someone would think I was proudly un-shy about how Aunt Flow was currently visiting me (you know, a menstruation exhibitionist). Which I'm definitely not, although little tampons still unwrapped but sitting in plain view are not unusual and not a big deal (however I do get embarrassed in public when I go to take money out of my bag at the till and out comes a tampon, eeeek!)…

So that was a long-winded lead-up to this past weekend when I had a friend visiting from Calgary. I had taken my hairbrush and cut off most of the hair that had collected on it and thrown it away. I wasn't too worried about it looking strange in there as it didn't look like it could be misconstrued. However, I didn't notice at the time that a bunch of the hair that had been cut shorter had fallen onto the toilet lid. Later in the day I went in there and panicked…

"Why is there fricken PUBIC HAIR on my toilet!?!"

It took me a few red-faced moments to figure out that it had fallen from my brush. Great. Do I ask Chris if she saw pubes in my washroom and thought I did a major hack job 'down there' in preparation for our night out? Awkward.

Nope. I just let it go.

Ugh.

UPDATE: see Feedback.

It's summer and I'm shedding

The lady who cleans my condo building said to me, "If I was young like you and looked like that, oh the things I would do... Don't ever sell yourself short Mich" Or something to that nature. It's flattering whenever she compliments me, because I know there's no agenda. She wants nothing from me. It's a different story when you hear how darn purdy you are from a stumbling boy in a dimly lit environment in the wee hours of the evening.

In one ear, out the other.

We forget how young we really are... I've heard people start talk about being old from the age of 25. WTF? Are you kidding me? I started lying about my age at 29. WTF? Why? And so now I just have to crack up at my new t-shirt- So far, this is the oldest I've ever been. I just feel that way. So far it is the oldest I've ever been, but I'm also the youngest now than I will ever be again!!!

So I'm trying to take her advice. Oh things I'm going to do, wah ha ha ha! It's tough work I tell ya, but I'm giving it my best shot!!! Oh summertime, you are so so evil;)


ps. Hey gutterbrains, get your head out of there! Geez, I'm not even remotely thinking of turning to superslut!!! I'm still me, after all. Just wanna shed some pesky preconcieved notions that are getting me nowhere. Ugh. Notions, I'm taking you down. It's ON.

Non-"Hi" Sayers

There are too many non-hi sayers in the world. Now, in a big city I can understand people not saying hi to every stranger they pass... But what about in a smaller community type of thing? Like what about your apartment building? Just fricken say hi when you see someone. Do it. It won't kill ya.

I'm a bit of a shy hi-sayer, but I'll step out of my box to do it. Then if someone doesn't say hi back, I feel like I just got slapped in the face! Ouch, the sting of rejection! And if a person doesn't even look at me so I can have the chance to say hi, then I have trouble bringing myself to do it. I can't yell, "HEY!!! Uh yeah ... hi ... ahem ... just wanted to get your attention so I could say hi."

*Cringe*

Yeah, no. Won't happen.

But why can't you say it back? In Whistler we went hiking and passed a whole group of hikers. Both Vanessa and I said hi. Nuthin. We got hardly so much as a glance in return.

The other scenario is when people say they saw you somewhere but didn't say hi. What the? Why not? Am I that excruciating to talk to? Or maybe you don't care to hear how I'm doing? Hmm. Well perhaps I've snuck away hoping someone didn't see me too. There are those times, perhaps you go to the mall, throw a cap on and hope your pizza face doesn't scare too many strangers. But you don't really care either way. Until you see that person you know. It's likely a guy you've had a crush on all your life or an ex and his new squeeze. In those cases you duck and run for cover as fast as possible.

Oh yeah, and there were special cases where I'd die if someone I knew saw me. A couple of times in the past I took odd jobs in "marketing". I usually had to wear some special outfit and prayed to God that I didn't see someone I knew. I'm talking about a "Get Cracking" mock turtleneck while promoting eggs to the public... Uh, or the time I had to dress as a cave woman to sell a golf simulator machine (see explanation below). God how I'd never be caught dead doing that now. Anyways, in both cases I was caught red-handed by people I knew. Luckily there are no pictures to prove any of it ever happened.

So I got on a bit of a tangent there, with my main point being I suppose there, in fact, are times you don't want to say hi to people. All I can say is that those are the exceptions and you should just put yourself out there. Show and little love and you'll get some in return. Right? I still try, even though I get snubbed once in a while.


... About the cave woman and the golf simulation machine: The marketing slogan was the evolution of golf and there was to be a cave woman and a woman in a tux. Why women? Well, it was an oil trade show of some sort with 99.9% of men at this thing. I was really really hoping to be the one in the tux. So I almost died when I saw the Jungle Jane outfit I had to wear. Sweet Jeasus. I got a few oil tycoons' business cards though. Too bad Jungle Jane wasn't into the jet set lifestyle. Guess I'd stoop to being scantilly clad for a buck back then, but not to taking it all off!!!

Morning Mantra

Can anyone hear me belting out tunes every day in the shower? I ponder this regularly. You see, the vent seems to carry sound. I can even hear sirens outside. And we can always hear the people upstairs gettin' busy from the washroom better than from the bedroom (not that we were trying, maybe just making sure no one is getting horribly tortured up there- sounds of pleasure not pain, difficult to decifer at times).

But I've never ever heard a tub fart ring through that vent. Seriously, the last place I lived was so NOT soundproof, we'd always hear the guy fart in his tub. Rude. Totally rude.

Ok so I just tried to name this blog post... I don't know why I have to go with alliteration (isn't that where every word starts with the same letter, I hope so). It's catchy I suppose. So I was like, what exactly IS a mantra anyways... Can I use it that in this context?

From the American Heritage Dictionary -

man·tra (mān'trə, mŭn'-) n.
1) Hinduism: A sacred verbal formula repeated in prayer, meditation, or incantation, such as an invocation of a god, a magic spell, or a syllable or portion of scripture containing mystical potentialities.
2) A commonly repeated word or phrase: "Today's edutainment software comes shrinkwrapped in the magic mantra: 'makes learning fun.'" (Clifford Stoll).

As I read the 2nd definition I thought, what kind of quote is that? Today's edutainment software ... blah blah WTF? Is that phrase seriously going to help me understand what mantra means?

I must be tired.

Ok, so the shower scene was definitely a mantra by that definition. I often wonder if people can hear me in the shower... so it's a mantra of sorts. A stupid mantra, I admit.

Alas, I'm going to quit the mantration (yay, new word!). If people really could hear me singing my little heart out, there would be a note under the door. NO, not complaining, you silly! A note telling me I should have auditioned for Canadian Idol!!!

I sing like an angel in that shower. Too bad you can't hear it.

I'm not joking either. I'm NOT.

Whatever. Go away.

No, you're not going to come to my shower to hear me sing, so forget it buster. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Lord how I love these blog posts where it seems I'm conversing with some imaginary character. I think that's my cue to shut'er down for the evening.

Goodnight all and I'M BAAAAAACKKKKKKKK! As sad as that was, I'm officially back on the blogtrain folks.


ps. A dude that goes by the handle "nater" is not allowed to comment about my singing on this post. Nope. Don't even bother man.

Not worth it

Hey, this weather rules! So yeah, not posting so much lately. Summer gets a bit nuts. It's a good nuts though, can't complain.

So just a lil gabby gabby...

I fell when biking up a hill the other day. Just went to jump off because I have no idea what I was thinking going up that steep death trap. It was so steep that when I went to hop off, gravity stepped in and forced me and my bike downwards. Got a bruise on my stomach where the handlebar broke my fall.

Thanks a lot handlebar. Ouch.

I looked around. Phew! No one saw me. That's the worst, an audience to my foibles.

Otherwise I did a lot better than the motorcyclist I saw face down on the highway just minutes later. Yikes. God, if I owned a motorbike instead of a car I would've been dead years ago. Literally. Not kidding. I've totalled 3 cars and none of it was my fault. I know, you're thinking, "riiiiiiiiight" and "how is that even possible?" You're thinking I was either not paying attention or a very non-defensive driver, or that I must have even been at least 25% at fault. But no, I was NOT at fault. I'm dead serious. Not dead, luckily, but deadly serious. After the 3rd accident the insurance companies were wondering though. God, you could not pay me enough pain and suffering cash to make it worth all that fuss. NOT worth it I tell ya.

Anyways, it looked like the guy was breathing and a minute later I could hear the ambulances on their way. It happened on the one day I didn't have my camera on me. There's no way I could take photos of that anyways. I'd feel like a meathead. It might make the blog more interesting, but it's not worth it. Nope.

Speaking of which, I was biking on the High Level Bridge and a pigeon was flying along with me. It would fly beside me (which is very cool, feels like you're flying with them) and then it would go above and cross over a few times. The thought of being dive bombed with pigeon poop crossed my mind. It truly felt like one of those near-poop experiences. My fantasy world was quickly crumbling, perhaps flying with the pigeons wasn't all good times. Then for a split second I thought, "man that'd make a good blog post, getting pooped on, haha, hilarious" ... What the? What exactly was I thinking!?! Not worth it. You gotta watch what you wish for these days I tell ya. I do love it when others get pooped on though. 'The bird pooped on me' stories always go over well in my world. I just don't want to be the one telling it.

Ok, lunchtime is over. Each minute I burn on here is one less minute in the sunshine. Enjoy your day, eh.