Protest!

Why do people insist that there is no way in hell I could possibly be happy?

I was telling my sister, that if she didn't like her life, just change it. There is really no excuse for not being happy.

She rolled her eyes. "Like you're happy."

"As a matter of fact, I am." She looked at me like 'who you trying to fool?'

People look at me and my life, and they think that they would not be happy in it, therefore, I couldn't possibly be.

How do I explain it? It's like trying to convince the doctor you are not crazy after you are in the insane asylum.

If I didn't like my life, I would change it. It's pretty simple if you think about it. I like my job, my apartment, my free time is my own. Mind you, I wouldn't say no to a boat-load of money, but I have enough to live on.

Why don't we examine my sister's theory of my unhappiness.

"Your overweight." So, does it bother you? It doesn't bother me. I like to eat and I don't like to exercise. Why would I do things I don't like. (Hey, I walk to the car.)

I could torture and deprive myself for a year and the day I unveil the belly button ring I could step off the curb and get hit by a bus.

"You don't go anywhere." But I don't want to go anywhere. Bars don't appeal to me. I don't really like to drink, I think it's a waste of money. I have no patience for idiots and assholes (the main species that frequent those establishments) so I would probably end the evening in a fight. I would much rather sit in your kitchen and shoot the shit.

"You just sit at that computer all day." I like the computer. I am good at it. I find it interesting. Your just jealous cuz you don't even know how to turn yours on.

"You live alone." I wish, I live with the boy. I can't wait to live alone.

"But you don't have anyone." Ok, I get it, a man, your talking about a man. Well I have two. They just don't live with me, I 'visit' them, get 'er done and leave.

The only rational reason for having a man living in your house is to kill bugs and move furniture. The boy kills bugs and I like where my furniture is. I lived with the boys father for 11 years. I did my time.

My sister, on the other hand, is miserable and the reason she is miserable is because she chooses to be. There can be no other explanation for it. She works, so she does not need a man to take care of her. So why else would she let any man make her miserable?

"Hubby does 'this or that' and it drives me crazy!"

"Have you told him to fuck off and stop doing that?"

"No, he knows it drives me crazy." No he doesn't. Men are not psychic. They do not know that you don't like something unless you open your fucking mouth and say so. That is why every single one of them have this daft look of surprise on their face when you tell them you are leaving. They had no idea anything was wrong.

Here is my philosophy: If someone does something to piss you off, tell that person 'hey, that pisses me off'.

If they continue to piss you off, its on them. But if you never tell that person they piss you off, its your own damn fault.

If you don't like your job, get another one. If you don't like your man, ditto. But don't sit around complaining about things you have total control over and refuse to take control of.

OCD Mailman.

Ever wonder why the mail takes so long to get to you?

Wonder no longer.

An experiment.

Supposedly you can get a free laptop by signing up for an offer. I actually chose the bookclub. So if all else fails, I will get to read a few good books.

This is my referral link, if you want to try it out for yourself. It is the first one I have seen that you don't have to be in the states to benefit from.

Something to consider.

Cousin Jean sent an email the other day, and I thought it rang so true. This is not all of it, but the part that had me nodding my head.

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her "How could God let something like this Happen?" (regarding Katrina)

Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said,

"I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.

And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?"

In light of recent events...terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found recently) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.

Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school . The Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said OK.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with "WE REAP WHAT WE SOW."

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell.

All of this is true, I think the tree huggers and politically incorrect police have screwed the world. There is no happy medium for anything anymore. I blame Oprah.

Every denomination thumps the bible down and says, "This is the word of God" and they follow it to the letter. When you consider it was around 500AD before they started translating the bible into different languages, you might come to the conclusion that someone might have missed something in that translation.

Maybe the guy who translated the psalms didn't like how one of them sounded and did some editing. Can you really trust any human to be completely objective. We are talking about religion here.

"It says here, God thinks lizards are way cool and that we should let them rule the world."

"That's retarded, Bob, scratch that out!"

Before you pick up the bible to read it, first say to yourself. God is a pretty decent guy. He is not up there screwing with us. He gave us free will and brains.

"God sent down Katrina, How could he do such a thing." He also sent meteorologists who told them a month in advance that it was coming, to get the fuck out of the way.

People need to use their head.

Success

This is a long story, so I am putting the pictures in thumbnail so you can view them larger or not, it's up to you.

My sister's surgery is over. Turns out they could not repair the valve to the surgeons satisfaction so he replaced the valve.

Her husband and I went up the day before since the surgery would be early the next morning.

So, the first thing my sister wants to do is go out for a smoke. We gather up a bunch of stuff she wants us to take and we head down to the car.
Unfortunately, Hubby has locked the keys inside.
As you can see, he is not all that upset about it,
and after 5 minutes he is in.
Back up to the room and my sister is getting ready, packing up her shit,
showering and taking off jewelry and nail polish.
Only my sister would curl her hair for open heart surgery.

While she was in the bath, we decided to have some fun with her. She was talking morbid outside, about what to do if she dies. Who gets what, that sort of thing. At the foot of her bed there is a cork board and a note board.

We thought this was hilarious. I don't' think her roommate did though.

So, we leave at around midnight to get a room. I suggested Holiday Inn, since it was just down the street and hey, I might be called upon to assist in the surgery. "I'm not a surgeon, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn last night." I swear I am going to use that line one day in my real life. But this trip, it never came up.

The parking structure was a fun time, a sardine can for cars. The Hubby is one of those guys who is never wrong when it comes to parking and driving. He was still smarting from the locking the keys in the car thing when I mentioned that the parking spot he was eyeing was too small. So, of course, he had to prove me wrong. He got in the space, all the while I am saying, "Don, I am telling you the space is too small." I am sure the car will fit, I was thinking ahead to actually exiting the car.

"Just let me try it, I think we will fit." And he was right, we fit. And if we were planning on sleeping in the car it would have been fine, but we were crammed into a space with a cement pillar on one side and a fancy car on the other with about 2 inches on either side. He looks at me like he has proven the theory of relativity.

"Perfect, Einstein, but I can't open the door."

"Just try it, you can squeeze out." I just looked at him. "Are you on crack? I am a fat chick, I need the door to open all the way." The lightbulb goes off and he sees my point. So, now we have to get out of the sardine can, and get turned around so we can continue into the depths of the parking structure and find another more adequate space. This is easier said than done and the Hubby does not do slow and easy. He proceeds to back out too fast and promptly takes the mirror off the car. "I meant to do that, I have collapsing mirrors, I was just testing them." I say nothing.

He gets out of the space, but now we are facing the wrong way to go down to the next level. He is smarting now, and of course he meant to do this too. He is the reverse king, so we head down through the sardine can, BACKWARDS. I wish I had pictures for this, because I had my eyes closed the whole time.

Luckily, I am in one piece and we get to the hotel room. Not a bad room, but 165 bucks was a bit much for 5 hours. We were back at the hospital at 5:30am. I couldn't sleep.


Back to the hospital, they prep her for surgery.

First the morphine, she loved that. She started talking some pretty good shit. "Tell Linda, I want my skates back. Can you get them sharpened for me?"

"Well, it's only 3 months before the rinks open, I hope I have time."

Linda has had these skates for a couple of years, we didn't even know she knew where they were but this was important information, according to my sister. Then as they wheel her into the operating room, she reaches for me, motions me to come closer so she can whisper in my ear. Her final words, "If I die, tell Linda she can keep the skates." Not exactly 'rosebud' but it will have to do.

I think I will cut this off here, next post I will cover post-op. But in a nutshell everything was fine.

Ya think?

Heard a cool song today.

"If everyone grew up with high self esteem, who would dance in our strip clubs?"

"You think if Bill Gates got laid in highschool there would be a Mi.cros.oft?"

"I'm pretty sure McDonalds has an 'underwear goes inside the pants' policy."

Anyone else getting bored with the whole 'internet' thing?

He actually did it!

The One Red Paperclip guy did it. He has traded that paperclip for a house.

He started on July 12 2005 and 14 trades later, on July 12, 2006 he has become the proud owner of a home in Kipling, Saskatchewan.

Kyle, you crazy Canuck, you rock!

Once again, our (meaning all us geeks of the world) fearless leader reveals all.

I was wondering why the boy thought the iRiver was so damn cool. It all becomes clear now, doesn't it?

"We've got a new portable music device that uses the Windows technology. This is the iriver H10. This will be about a $279 device, it's got a color screen for photos, it's got FM tuning, very simple little user interface, a very nice device there."--Remarks by Bill Gates, Chairman and Chief Software Architect, Microsoft Corporation, 2005 International Consumer Electronics

This man knows his gadgets. If Bill thinks it's 'a very nice device', you can't go wrong.

In the geek world, his word is the word of God. (FYI - if you want to hear the word of God, you have to scroll over about half way through the broadcast. There is some freaky cult muzac that plays for quite a while before you get to the actual broadcast.)

And another thing...

After watching that webcast I decide I want to see the most recent one. HOLY SUPER GEEK, BATMAN! You have to watch the presentation.


Bill was on fire! Especially when he shows you his 'day in the life'. It is off the hook!

He speaks 'teenager'. Can anyone translate?

I don't know if I mentioned, but the boy graded. Finally off to 9th grade, new superschool, should be fun. I hope this is some indication that he will not be living with me when he is 40. A girl can dream.

Anyway, I had planned to get him an iPod for grading. They are a little on the expensive side, but, being a teenager, he really 'needs' one. It's much easier to ignore your mother people if you have earphones in your ears. I am just thankful that this generation has the MP3 player. I couldn't imagine going through what my parents did. My generation had the boom box (or we called them ghetto blasters), and no one had head phones.

So I am taking my time, shopping around, trying to get the best price. I love him but I am not going into debt for him. I have it narrowed down to a couple on eBay. Those things retail for around $300US and even on eBay I would be paying $150 + shipping.

Anyway, I am about ready to commit to one of them when the boy comes strolling through the living room just as the apple commercial comes on, you know the one, silhouetted people with white iPod dancing around. He looks at the tv and says, "Those are so gay." and walks away.

What? I had to ask someone what the hell that meant.

Apparently 'gay' does not mean homosexual in this context, it means 'bad'. Not to be confused with 'sick' which means 'awesome'. Now back in the day, 'bad' meant 'good'. But you can't go by that, sometimes it is the opposite, and sometimes they just make shit up like that "fo shizzle ma nizzle" crap which I have found out means:

a bastardization of "fo' sheezy mah neezy" which is a bastardization of"for sure mah nigga" which is a bastdardization of "I concur with you whole heartedly my African american brother" .

Anyway, I 'got' the fact that an iPod was something that he would not be happy with. So, the surprise thing was out. I just flat out asked him which one he wanted. Turns out that iRiver is his weapon of choice in the war against speaking with me in any meaningful way. So yesterday I purchased this one on eBay. Cost me $125 US, total. Not bad, I thought. He balked a bit because it was only 6GIG, until he realized that he didn't even know enough songs to fill 6GIG. No,one needs more than 6GIG.

So, he will be safa when he goes to cotch down with his boys, bummin an MP3 that is off the hook.

My head hurts.

For God's sake, give it some thought.

My brother-in-law and I went up to visit my sister in hospital the other day. She is doing fine, just pissed that she has to wait so long to have her surgery.

Anyway, as we are driving alone Robie Street there are quite a few people strolling down the center line with cups, looking for change. This pisses me off to no end. In the city there are plenty of jobs for young people that will literally keep them off the street.

Usually I like to roll down my window as we pass and say, 'Get a job', that's just me. We are coming up to this one guy who is facing away from us walking up the center line, shaking his Tim Horton cup. I roll down my window and as I am about to give him some sage advice, he turns.

I was speechless, all I could do is shake my head and roll up my window.


(not the exact guy, and they were nowhere near this nice,but you get the picture)

What the hell was this crayon thinking?

As soon as you put the first needle to your face, you are making a lifelong decision to limit your career opportunities to tattoo artist (and you better have some talent) or sideshow freak. What the hell else are you going to hire this freak to do for you?

Royal Wedding...Part 2.

I am sorry folks, but the Politically Incorrect Sisters were a no show this evening. Well one of them anyway, my mother bailed right after the dinner. And since Trin sat at the head table there was no interaction between the two.

All was not lost, however. Trin's son and her son-in-law both made what could be charitably described as less than PC speeches. Fortunately there were only three people there who could have been offended, two were guests and the other was the bride, of course. But the bride understood maybe half of what was said, so I guess it was ok.

One made reference to Sonny's fondness for the 'Dollar' stores and since everything there was made in China, it stood to reason his bride would be too.

The other made fun of how she talks. She saw a fish at the pet store in a 'fish box'. She couldn't pronounce apron, she calls it a cooking dress. And of course she pronounced BBQ, BEE BEE QUE instead of Bar Bee Que. Funny stuff, not really, but it was the best they could do.

All were disappointed when neither used the squinty eye actions.

And to reinforce the whole 'he does not deserve her' thing, for the first dance she recorded a special song for him, 'From this Moment'. And when I say she recorded it, I mean she actually sang the song. Thankfully, he did not reciprocate.

The food was really good. You guessed it, Chinese complete with chop sticks and fortune cookies. It was hard to enjoy it though, it was so hot and muggy. Fat chicks don't do well in hot and muggy. You know what does do well in hot and muggy? Mosquitoes.

We (my clan) sat next to the door to facilitate quick exits for smoke breaks. My people are smokers, deal with it. This was handy for that but also made us first course for the skeeters. I am sure everyone watching us thought we all had some sort of seizure disorder. We spent the night whacking mosquitoes off ourselves and each other, mixed with spastic hand gestures and screeches. Like something off the Discovery Channel.

Lucky for us, our bazaar display was upstaged by Big Eva's son (that's Sonny's sister) who decided, half way through the dance that streaking through the building was an excellent idea. He scared the children but I am sure he made his Mamma proud.

Thankfully, I was not bothered by people trying to get me up to dance. It sometimes becomes an issue. Usually ending with me telling someone to fuck off before I punch them in the throat. I can keep the beat with my head and do pretty well while seated, but somehow it just doesn't translate to my feet. I know this about myself, I just don't go there.

And you know that thing about white men not being able to dance? Same goes for Asian men. One poor guy was up dancing with his wife and his son was in hysterics laughing at him. I was too funny, sort of like the Elaine dance.

All in all though, it was a nice time. The kids had a blast, and everyone got home in one piece. Sorry again about the sisters, but that's what happens with live tv folks, you just can't plan for it. We can only hope they make an appearance at the next function, which looks like it may not be till November sweeps.

Stay tuned.

Royal Wedding - The Sequel.

Sonny the Geek has married his second wife, Rebecca. (You remember, the Chinese chick?) He clearly does not deserve her. Then again what man does deserve a good woman? Not many, but with the law of averages being what they are they tend to end up with one, eventually.

We call it the Royal Wedding, cuz my Aunt Trin had 7 children, six girls and Sonny. He is not the baby, he is just the only boy. And you can't tell he is the favorite, except their boat is named 'Hi Son' and their license plates say the same. But they love them all equally. Ya right.

The wedding portion went by without too much problems. Although I wonder who he had to kill to let him have it in a Catholic church. The Catholics are sticklers with divorce. Sonny's first wife turned out to be gay, then after the divorce decided maybe she isn't. Long story.

The most depressing part of these sorts of events is seeing how much your cousins kids have grown. I looked over and thought, "Hey there's cousin Paul...no wait, is that Edward?" Shit, last time I saw that kid he was maybe 10, now he is totally someone I would try and pick up in a bar. (Yet another reason not to go to bars.) Can you say 'cougar'?

I was sitting too far away from the Politically Incorrect Sisters hear anything juicy, but we still have the reception and dance. Fear not.

I forgot my camera so you will just have to believe me when I say she looked beautiful. I was thinking I could just use the first wedding photos and superimpose her into them, until I saw the dress.(His first wife had no taste, she wore some hippy flower child shit)I am sure everyone was wondering how he managed to hook this one. She really did look hot.

Everyone was all dressed up. Yes, even me. I went shopping with my brother's fiance. She tried to feminize me, and she thought it had worked. Nice blouse, dress pants...then she looked down at my feet. I didn't see what the problem was, they were brand new.

Sarah, Sonny's niece, had the right idea. She looked at me and said, "I can't wait to take the squirrel off my head." And she grabbed the hair extension off her head and tossed it to her mother. Kid has the right idea.


Well I am off to the reception.....later skater.

I have been branded with the flaming red 'G'.

I passed my XP tech test. You can all now rest assured that I, super geek will soon be on the job and solving all the problems of the universe. Because I, Evel, have correctly answered the multitude of MENSA questions on this test.

This was one of the questions: Johnny's mother had three children. The first child she named April, the second child she named May. What did she name the third child?

I kid you not...and it was multiple choice.

His mother must be so proud.

This idiot posed for the camera as he urinated on the National War Memorial in Ottawa on Saturday.

The photographer turned out to be a retired Canadian Armed Forces Major. He was not impressed.

You see this is not just any war memorial, this one holds the remains of The Unknown Soldier, returned to Canada from France in 2000.

Classy, eh? Someone definitely took his stupid pill that morning.

Oh, and America?
Ditto.

And in honor of your holiday, I wish to publish this. A truly Canadian Apology to the USA, courtesy of Rick Mercer from This Hour Has 22 Minutes, CBC Television:

Hello. I'm Anthony St. George on location here in Washington.

On behalf of Canadians everywhere I'd like to offer an apology to the United States of America. We haven't been getting along very well recently and for that, I am truly sorry. I'm sorry we called George Bush a moron. He is a moron, but it wasn't nice of us to point it out. If it's any consolation, the fact that he's a moron shouldn't reflect poorly on the people of America. After all, it's not like you actually elected him.

I'm sorry about our softwood lumber. Just because we have more trees than you, doesn't give us the right to sell you lumber that's cheaper and better than your own. It would be like if, well, say you had ten times the television audeince we did and you flood our market with great shows, cheaper than we could produce. I know you'd never do that.

I'm sorry we beat you in Olympic hockey. In our defence I guess our excuse would be that our team was much, much, much, much better than yours. As word of apology, please accept all of our NHL teams which, one by one, are going out of business and moving to your fine country.

I'm sorry about our waffling on Iraq. I mean, when you're going up against a crazed dictator, you want to have your friends by your side. I realize it took more than two years before you guys pitched in against Hitler, but that was different. Everyone knew he had weapons.

I'm sorry we burnt down your White House during the War of 1812. I see you've rebuilt it! It's very nice.

I'm sorry for Alan Thicke, Shania Twain, Celine Dion, Loverboy, that song from Seriff that ends with a really high-pitched long note. Your beer. I know we had nothing to do with your beer, but we feel your pain.

And finally on behalf of all Canadians, I'm sorry that we're constantly apologizing for things in a passive-aggressive way which is really a thinly veiled criticism. I sincerely hope that you're not upset over this. Because we've seen what you do to countries you get upset with.

For 22 minutes, I'm Anthony St. George, and I'm sorry.

This is Canada, it's all about the beaver.

You wouldn't believe how many people I talk to on the phone (Americans) who think that beaver here are like pigeons in the states. When people hear I am from Nova Scotia, their first response is, "You must eat lobster every day."

"Oh ya, they run free in the parking lot." Have you seen the price of lobster? Jeez.

One guy said to me, "So, are you guys are like in 6 months of daylight, right?"

"Oh ya. Its almost over though, I can't wait to get some sleep."

"I went to college with a girl from Canada, Paula, you know her?" Are you fucking serious?

The reason these commercials are so funny, is because people outside of Canada believe this is true.

Pet Beaver

Pet Beaver
Office Glen


For some reason, I can't get autostart to shut off, so instead of having all the movies autoplay together I have to put the others in links. Its worth a click though.

God Bless Americans, they are good for a laugh.

139 years young.

Happy Birthday Canada.