Tuesday, December 26, 2006
I'm heading back to Saskatoon on the 27th where I'll post a bit more on my trip to Mexico, and maybe a picture or two. Then I'm off to Edmonton for a few days before hitting back to my internships... its amazing how easy it is to forget completely about school. Apparently I'm almost a pharmacist, who would've known?
Well, Merry Christmas to everyone and I'll post more later.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
I'll also leave you with this little link to The Weather Network so that you can keep yourself updated on what my days are like. http://http://www.theweathernetwork.com/weather/cities/intl/Pages/MXXX0014.htm
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Yes, she is knitting her muscles
She works and lives in Saskatoon, great city that it is. Check it out.
Anyways, today I was reading the Canada Family Action Coalition website, which is essentially a hate fuelled discrimination train. With blinders fully on they feel that by excluding gays from marriage, child raising and other equalities given to Canadians, that homosexuals will just 'go away'. Well, unfortunately it hasn't gone away yet and discrimination isn't a new technique... but I digress. So here's the email I wrote this biznitch.
"Ms. Gallagher (firstname.lastname@example.org):
I have just finisehd reading your article "The Message of Same Sex Marriage" (http://www.familyaction.org/Articles/issues/sexuality/same-sex-msg.htm ) and had a few thoughts on what you had written.
I wasn't surprised that this article continued upon the vein of children must be raised by two opposite sex parents in order to succeed in life. When "Matthew" stated that he knew people raised by same sex couples were well adjusted, that should have been a cue to say that loving parents who are committed to each other are what matters most to raising children. Divorce is more of a threat to marriage than gay couples, in my opinion and you should be writing an article denouncing 'shot gun' marriages'. Rushes to the alter before being in love is more devastating to a child who has to be raised in a resentful and loveless environment than having two mothers who have fought for years to be able to marry and went through a careful process to ensure they were ready for a child before they adopted one that was given away by careless straight couples.
Yes, your buildup is there in your argument, but I thinky ou have drawn a complete wrong conclusion. You should want gays to marry. It shows heterosexual people that marriage is important to children. Gays can and will continue to adopt, it is people like you who are keeping those children from having married parents. Also, allowing gays to marry creates a sense of concrete relationship that is ripe for raising children. Since gays cannot biologically have children they are great candidates for raising children available for adoption. Making it easier to adopt will help the children you seem to want to protect so badly.
You have a great writing style and I enjoyed reading the points you raised in your post. I firmly believe that you have taken a pessimistic view of this hot topic and lack the insight to see that granting rights to people and accepting them for who they are, allowing them to be part of mainstream society is a GOOD thing. If you would like to discuss this issue further, I'd love to engage in a well informed conversation. I am deeply interested in your opinions on this matter and what background you have that draws you to your conclusions.
Feel free to read the linked article and email her if you like. I'll let ya know if she writes me back.
Friday, December 8, 2006
Lets take a brief overview of the gay rights movement as yours truly tends to understand it right now.
Gays have existed in human society for as long as human society has been around. Although the facts are murky, the oppression of gays is a relatively new occurence. After centuries, then, of oppression the homosexual population (estimated to be ~10-14% of a given population) began to fight back. Just as women were granted the right to vote, gays were on their way to not being sentenced to death for being what they were.
The gay rights movement began in the 1860's when German activist Karl Heinrich Ulrichs came out publicly and began publishing books on same sex love. In North America the women's suffrage movement and liberation activists were populated not only with women fed up with the status quo, but with lesbians who wanted to see change. This allowed a crack in the door to be opened for the broader gay rights movement in North America.
In the 1940's and 50's the gay rights movement became more public and organizations sprung up with members of the social elite, political and wealthy counted as members. Still, homosexuality remained illegal, with many jursidicitions punishing 'sodomy' with death, and gays themselves seen as mentally ill according to the American Psychiatric Association.
However the modern gay movement occurred in the 1960's with the free love movement that popularized activism for women, anti-Vietnam War and civil rights. The turning point is generally accepted to be the Stonewall Riots of 1969 in Greenwich Village, New York. The Stonewall Inn was a gay bar that was frequently raided (as were other gay bars) and patrons were arrested for being homosexual. However on one particular night the patrons resisted arrest and they fought back... for days. Soon after gay liberation groups popped up around the US and other Western nations to challenge the way homosexuals were seen by the rest of the population.
Gay rights have come a long way and unfortunately still have a long ways to go before it is accepted in today's society.
Anyways, that is a very, very brief overview of the gay rights movement as it stands today. It should stand as a hallmark, then that gays have achieved the right to marry someone who they truly love and are recognized as a couple, a family, just as anyone else would be. This is why the recent 'revisitation' of the 'gay marriage debate' is so important to not just gays but to Canadians. Canadians pride themselves on being multicultural. Culture isn't just defined as being Chinese, French, Ukrainian or First Nations... it isn't always about where you come from but who you associate with and with whom you feel at home. In this way there is a gay culture and Canada must recognize that the rights of this culture are every bit as important as the rights of Muslims or Christians.
So, thats the end of my rant... and I hope you actually read it, instead of skimming over for some crude joke involving cunts or abortions.
I leave you with a list of prominent gay historical figures so that you can see that human history has been contributed to by not only heterosexuals.
Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, Leonardo da Vinci, Oscar Wilde, Beethoven, Freddie Mercury.
There are, of course, many more, but the night is getting shorter and I need sleep. I'll probably put up another post on this topic soon, but I do have lots of filth in between. Thaks for reading!
Thursday, December 7, 2006
After a few minutes he did what we were waiting for, he scratched his leg. Yes, he lifted up his pant leg and scratched a scab... picked it really. I know, its quite disgusting on its own... but wait, there's more.
HE ATE IT! He fucking ate his scab, in a crowded food court while people watched. I'm glad I ate before, although I just about threw it up right there.
Wherever you are scab man, I think you're disgusting.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
It just so happens that the next midterm I write on Tuesday, therapeutics, is the last of my undergraduate career. You'd think I'd be happy for this day to come and be eagerly studying to cram every last ounce of knowledge into my head to perform well on this final mid year evaluation. You would be wrong. I fucking hate every last minute of this studying and will find any excuse not to do it.
Top 10 ways to procrastinate:
1. Clean my bathroom - although this desperately needs to be done, it hasn't been until midterms come up.
2. Drink - getting a bit of a buzz relieves the stress of those unopened books on my mind. Playing drunk Balderdash is even more fun with even less book opening.
3. I'm bored with this, I think I'm gonna go watch a movie or get drunk.
Sunday, November 5, 2006
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
You stay classy, internet fans.
My favorite is the sexy 1900's steel conglomerate tycoon. So get the fuck down here cause I got shit over here I'm trying to fucking sell... big sale goin' on!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
8. physical, mental, or emotional strain or tension: Worry over his job and his wife's health put him under a great stress.
9. a situation, occurrence, or factor causing this: The stress of being trapped in the elevator gave him a pounding headache.
The above is an exerpt from Dictionary.com's definition of stress. While the dictionary company here is correct in its example of stress, I could also volunteer some from my own personal experiences of the last week.
"The application for the residency was incomplete due to holds put on his account and he could therefore not get a copy of his transcripts. This placed undue stress on him."
"Not knowing where he'd be in less than two months due to a bumbling SPEP coordinator placed him under great stress."
"Twenty five group meetings and as many deadlines all within short notice made his hair start to fall out due to stress."
I could go on but I won't, because I'mg etting stressed out that none of them will be witty. Anyways, you get the fucking point --> I'm a little stressed with school lately. Classes and exams and group meetings, they suck balls. Fortunately within less than a month I will be sitting on a sunny, warm beach in Cancun sipping something bright with an umbrella in it. My only stress will be worrying how to get the sand out of the crevices it got itself into, or maybe how to get another drink without getting up. Ahhh, vacation.
Anywho, I'll keep ya posted in case I snap and decide to kill a busload of children. "He was always so quiet.." you'll say, "Wait, no, he told us beforehand, it was quite obvious he did it!"
P.S. I tried posting a pic of a family wearing naked costumes... it was quite weird, but this blogger thing sucks.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
A few F bombs later it was 8:30 and Lance had already missed his first class of the day while I dreaded writing a midterm that I needed more time to prepare for (love that last minute cram). Around 9:10 am I was still on the road, and moving approximately 1 car length every 5 minutes. I decided to take action. I called the college and told them I was going to be late. Feeling a little better that I wouldn't fail or run out of time I sat back as some bitch let a large trailer and then two small sedans in front of the ever growing line. I hope her children are born retarded.
Nearing the overpass of 108th and Circle I could see clear grey road ahead, yet no one was moving! It appeared as if people were outside their cars flailing about madly... perhaps even in.. yes, a fist fight. People were fighting in the street, backing up traffic for almost 10 blocks. I was not impressed as it was now 9:15 and I was a little anxious that I had been on the road for over an hour and travelled 12 blocks.
The fight eventually resovled and I was on my merry way, to hit rock bottom on a geriatric incontinence exam, good times, eh?
Morale: Stay in your fucking car and drive like you rented that thing. I don't care if there's 2 inches of snow, use your head, not your brakes.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
1-2 Fresh Infants: I prefer white meat, but for those who want a juicier meat, go with dark.
2 Peeled Potatoes, chopped
Sprig of fresh Rosemary
Salt and Pepper to taste
Boil pot of water over high heat. Drop in babies. They may make some noise, but thats completely normal, it means they're especially fresh. Add potatoes, rosemary and salt and pepper and simmer for 4 hours or until babies are soft.
If you ever come across him please kick him in the balls as part of my twelve step program to beautifying the nation. And ladies... the question is out there... How Many Beer?
Monday, October 9, 2006
Yes, thats correct, I just returned from the Greatest Rock Show on Earth. The Rolling Stones definitely gave Regina and surrounding area a Bigger Bang on Sunday night (and presumbably Friday, although yours truly only attended the concert last night).
I was earlier a little hesitant to announce to the world that a broke ass student such as myself paid over 300 bucks to watch 60 something year olds play tunes from the 60's and 70's. After last night, however, I'd have to say that for being close enough to see each wrinkle on Keith Richards face and almost close enough to touch the Stones as they passed by on their hydraulic moving stage... it was worth every fucking dollar.
The show started with my sister, her friend, myself and a few others taking the bus down to Mosaic Stadium at Taylor Field via shuttle from Normanview Mall. We arrived around 4:10ish, Regina time. Seeing the massive line for souvenirs, and knowing that I had to have a tshirt, we promptly hit the booze line to get some refreshments for the line up that took just over 90 minutes to buy our rockstar memorabilia. Looking back from our point of sale, the line had nearly tripled. Long line... very long. Anyways, it was then time for a very delicious corndog. 12 inches of delicious.
As we headed back to the drink line for another refreshing long island, a rush of noise overhead alerted us to the beginning of the show... yes, our very own Snowbirds did three passes over the crowd. Amazing. They were so low and going so close together, damn. So, we headed in to the sound of Three Days Grace. Now, had I been there just for Three Days Grace, I would almost would have been satisfied. They are an amazing band and played all their good shit, as well as a lot of stuff off their new album, which I must say I downloaded and am enjoying currently.
They played for almost an hour then left the crowd to our own devices for a little wihle. Eventually the stands became a cheering behemoth that offered up over 20 rounds of the wave. The crowd was getting quite frenzied and as I got back from the porta potties the lights went off and I'm sure they could probably hear us in Moose Jaw.
A fireworks display and the drum beat of Paint it Black opened up with Mick Jagger... Yes, Mick Fucking Jagger coming out onto the 9 story tall stage. Over ninety feet of screens, speakers, lights and extra seating! This thing was massive. Anyways, they played for an hour and a half straight. The stage moved out right past me, and me and Keith Richards shared a moment... or else he was passing out, I'm not sure. Either way, we had something there. A few songs out in the depths of the field and the stage retracted to a set of a giant inflatable lips hanging from the stage.
Fire jets and more great hits. The Stones were definitely impressive. Mick can only be described as 'fabulous'. I'm not sure what drag queen he ripped those jackets and blouses off of, but only the biggest rock star on Earth, ie him... could make that look cool. And for 63 he can run.
The same couldn't be said for Keith Richards, who smoked almost an entire pack of cigs, half while he was singing T&A.
There was tons more, but this is getting lengthy. I'll post more later, as I'm sure you can't wait to hear it.
Thursday, October 5, 2006
Wednesday, October 4, 2006
This will be my first international trip. At 22, I'm crossing out of my nation's borders for the first time ever, how fucking lame is that? Anyways, it'll be spectacular. And I'm sure you're all jealous, unless you're coming with me, then fuck yeah. If you're not, you should come. We need to book by Friday with a deposit. Let me know or whatever. The more the merrier, right? Yeah... anyways, not much else to write, just that I'm fucking awesome and Mexico is gonna rock.
Tuesday, October 3, 2006
"Late Monday afternoon as he was crossing Sesame Street to run to Mr. Hooper's store, Cookie Monster was struck by an east bound school bus. Mr. Monster was on his way to buy a box of, you guessed it, chocolate chip cookies. Unfortunately for him those cookies sent him to his grave. As police arrived on the scene children were crying and laying cookies from their own school lunches around him.
"It was so sudden, why has he been taken from us?" said a 5 year old girl, who asked not to be named.
Mr. Monster was allegedly so distracted in his lust for cookies that he forgot a very important lesson, to look both ways. The driver blamed the noisy school children, angle of the sun and a terrible hangover for his lack of attention that lead to Cookie's death. No charges have been laid.
"I just wanted some damn cookies, now I'm gonna have to get them myself. Fucking 'tard, never send a blue monster to do a green monster's job!" said long time companion Oscar the Grouch. "In hindsight, I always knew cookies would be that boy's tomb."
A memorial service will be held on Thursday. In lieu of flowers, guests are asked to bring a plate of cookies or a donation to be made to the Canadian Diabetes Association in his honour."
Monday, October 2, 2006
Sunday, October 1, 2006
After 3L of NS, D5W and some gravol, I slept for 6 hours in the hallway of the ER.
Still, the problem persists, although I don't feel quite as tingly and parched. We're waiting on C. diff tests, but I'm pretty sure I don't have the dreaded colitis. Anyways, thats why I've been so late with putting more stuff on here, and why I've missed a few group meetings.
Friday, September 22, 2006
I would have taken Tylenol to kill myself halfway through, but lo and behold... we learned today that it would take up to 3 days to die. That means I'd probably have to go to school on Monday too. Not the sweet relief I was looking for. Just kidding, drugs and suicide are bad... mmmkay?
Anyways, I realize that no one is probably reading this... but if you are, I'll fucking find you and make you write me a comment. I crave attention and feedback.
So yeah, write me a comment.
Yep, that was a terrible post, you can't unread it, though.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Anyways, thought you'd like to know.
Monday, September 18, 2006
This man, I've decided to call Roger, has less than optimal social skills. I can only imagine that he was invited out of pity because the host felt bad for him and thought 'what harm can there be in inviting Roger?' Well, host, I'd like to show you what kind of harm has been done... that streak of feces across the ass of his tighty whities.
Looking at the others in the picture, it kind of looks like a loser fest anyways, but I think Roger here is in a class of his own. Everyone else came prepared to get down to it... boxer shorts, without excrement.
Final Tip: When attending a party where you will be in your underwear and especially if you will be in close proximity to others while bending over, it is ESSENTIAL to wear a CLEAN pair of underpants. 'Nuff said.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Saturday, September 16, 2006
One must appreciate the energy that she puts into feeling the music, however. That is one high kick. Wherever you are now in this crazy world, Thelma, keep on dancing.
- Mike can run sixty-five kilometres an hour - that's really fast!
- The canonical hours of the Christian church are matins, lauds, prime, terce, sext, none, Mike and compline.
- The air around Mike is superheated to about five times the temperature of the sun.
- There is actually no danger in swimming right after you eat Mike, though it may feel uncomfortable.
- Ancient Chinese artists would never paint pictures of Mike!
- If you toss Mike 10000 times, he will not land heads 5000 times, but more like 4950, because his head weighs more and thus ends up on the bottom.
- Only fifty-five percent of men wash their hands after using Mike.
- Marie Antoinette never said 'let them eat cake' - this is a mistranslation of 'let them eat Mike'.
- Ostriches stick their heads in Mike not to hide but to look for water.
- The water in oceans is four times less salty than the water in Mike.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Tasteless, I know.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Anyways, I came across my wall calendar from this year (moved in in May an dstill haven't put it up, good investment eh?). It's entitled "Nuns Having Fun" and has a new hilarious picture of wacky nuns in crazy situations each month. They have little captions underneath to maximize the laughs, and boy, do they ever do the trick. For instance October (I know, I spoiled the surprise by looking) has three nuns sitting around a pub table eating. They all have pints (one of them is empty and the accompanying nun is making a hilarious face) and underneath it says "Ale Marys"... a hilarious play on words of the Hail Mary. Oh those nuns. I bet they have adventures at the convent that us regular folk could only dream of.
Saturday, September 9, 2006
The prize was a hell of a bar tab and that went down deliciously. Cheers to a new year at school.
Friday, September 8, 2006
Scene 2: I end up missing the banks closing time on Wednesday, as I had decided I was going to indeed purchase this car from 'Dennis'. I was kind of ripped at my misfortune but my sister decided to take me to a few different dealerships to look around, because apparently I had been a little impulsive in my desire for the first car I looked at. We eventually got to Saturn of Saskatoon down at the Auto Mall. We noticed a blue/green (name of color yet to be determined) 2001 Jetta TDI as we circled the lot. We got out to investigate and in less than 2 minutes a tall, strapping man named Trevor came out to see what the 411 was. Eventually I recognized him from a game of golf a few years previous when he had joined in with us at Wildwood. Anyways, I digress. Erin and I took the car for a little spin and I liked the feel of it. It wasn't as pretty as the V6 and sounded slightly rougher due to the fact that it was diesel, but it handled well and felt amazing on the road. It was about 4 grand more than the 2000 that 'Dennis' was selling and had more km, but it had some good service points and features that I really had to consider.
Scene 3: I had slept on the choices and woke up with the decision to purchase the dark blue car. The world was telling me to pick it. I had told Trevor that I would be back on Friday, however, to take a second look. Lance and I pulled into the dealership and I was ready to humour the salesman before I said no. As luck would have it I took it for a second ride and enjoyed the feel of it a little mor than the day before. We drove back to the dealership and were hit up with questions about the seriousness of my interest. I asked price, he said we'd talk. Still not sure if I wanted the car, I became quite interested in seeing how low I could get him to go, even though I'm sure the car was overpriced and that he had lots of room to negotiate. A half hour later I had talked over 3 grand off the sticker price and got him to throw in some tint and some minor cosmetic shit. We had a deal and I signed beside the 'X'.
Scene 4: As I headed out of the dealership to get some cash I let out a large breath and hoped I made a good choice. Then I realized I couldn't drive it right away and went back into the showroom to ensure that I also needed to register my car, fuck I'm stupid. Anyways, Lance and I hurried to the bank to get my cheque so I could drive my car home. All went well and we returned to pay for my car... MY CAR. It was exciting. I told Trevor he had just stole my car buying V-card. He laughed and said his wife would be impressed... jealous is more like it, ha. Anyways, I gave over the largest sum of cash I've ever seen in my hands to the financial dude, who was easily 20 feet tall if he was an inch. Scary mother fucker. Then it was off to Galon insurance to get my registration. We were there in short time and I registered the first vehicle ever in my name. The chick was quite dull and apparently didn't appreciate my sense of humour. I doubt she's ever gotten laid... what with her being so fucking ugly and all.
Back on the road we made a quick stop at the sevvy for some gas in the sister's SUV and a pair of toquitoes (it was almost 8 and we hadn't eaten yet... plus toquitoes are delicious). As we weaved down second avenue, busting our asses to get back so I could hop into my new ride we saw some riff raff (tanned cousin, brownitis, buck, whatever you want to call him) riding a bicycle with his head looking behind him. Also, a car was backing out ever so slowly. I saw it in my head before it happened and a 'oh shit' escaped my lips as the cyclist smashed into the back bumper and flew up on top of the back window. Hilarious. As grandad got out of his car to check the riff raff looked angry, what a douche. It was his fault. Anyways, no time to waste we chuckled as we sped up onto the freeway bridge and back to my car. Walking into Saturn for the last time that evening I shook Trevor's hand and he handed me the key. My KEY. My CAR. Fuck yeah.
Many more stories about my car to come, but thats the story of how I got my very first car. I know you'll remember it forever.
Wednesday, September 6, 2006
Tuesday, September 5, 2006
Sunday, September 3, 2006
Anyways, yeah, if you haven't seen it or whatever, watch it. I wasn't a huge Johnny Cash fan before I saw the movie in the theatres, but now I am. I'm sure that makes me a poser or some other wanna be type person, but he was a pretty cool guy.
Also on Max thing... Lucky Louie. What a hilarious show. Its an HBO show about this loser and his cranky ass wife and their ghetto apartment. Defiitely made me laugh. I haven't heard so many f-bombs and sexual depiction on tv for a while (discounting the Hustler channel I also get, hah). If you have Max, check this shit out.
Saturday, September 2, 2006
Let me just say, if you are planning on throwing away your baby, listen to this sign:
If you still don't want to drop it off, don't just throw that baby away! It's a well known fact that babies can be melted down and used again -- RECYCLE!
Friday, September 1, 2006
Two homeless men are sifting through a garbage bin in an alley looking for some eats. The first filthy hobo says "Look at that cat over there, it doesn't look like its been dead long, I'm so hungry I'm gonna eat that thing!" The second filthy hobo, however, is repulsed and lets the first filthy hobo know his feelings on the matter "Yuck, I know we're filthy hobos, but hot damn, how can you eat that cat, its covered in maggots!" To which the first replies "I haven't eaten in weeks, plus its meat, just pretend its steak"
The first hobo then proceeds to eat the entire cat, minus the hair and bones (cause that'd be fucking sick, yo).
A few hours later the second hobo is still starving and the first is feeling the ill effects of eating rotten cat. As the first one pukes up the cat all over the sidewalk the second says "I told you thats nasty to eat a cat..." but as he picks up a discarded toothpick and proceeds to the vomit he goes on "... but I haven't had a hot meal in ages."
A little boy is sitting on the side of a mountain road beside an idling car, tears streaming down his dust covered face. He looks like he has been there a while and is cold and alone.
A man driving along the same road drives by, and seeing the little lad pulls over to see what the fuss is about.
"Little boy," the man inquires, "why are you crying, where are your parents?"
"My dad just fell off the side of the mountain," the little boy replies.
"That's just awful, why would he have fallen off the side of the mountain?"
"He was going after my mom, who was also fell off" the little boy wails, the tears coming like a sad little spring of tear-water.
"Oh my, why did your mom fall off the side?"
"To catch my dog, who jumped from the car"
"My, my, thats horrible," the man consoles the boy, "You lost your whole family, eh?"
"Yes" the little boy sniffles.
As the man reaches pushes the little boy up against the car and undoes his pants he says, "I guess it just isn't your lucky day, kid, is it?"
Straight to hell, do not pass purgatory.
Long story short, my car sucks ass now, I can't pop the hood and its leaking oil yet mysteriously still runs. Yesterday I lost the headlight that was hanging by a cable which I normally wedged back under the crumpled hood. Who knows where it is, but if you see one, free headlight, eh?
SGI wasn't much help and the dude there couldn't tell me much, but I finally got off my procrastinating ass and took my claim to a body shop. Which brings me to today. (Read on, this is where it gets juicy)
So today Lance and I are looking for cars. I bought a good ol' Auto Trader and we eagerly flipped the pages. Actually, I'm car retarded and pretty much just let Lance tell me what to get. We found a pretty good looking VW Jetta, 2000, good shape, etc etc. Fuck, its nice. However, the guy who owns it went out of town and I couldn't test drive it today, but I'm crossing my fingers. We moved on to a 2004 Chevy Optra which was curiously under priced for the condition it was in, but I think I'll chalk it up to the sweaty ethnic man who was driving it. I'm sure he was good to it, but fuck, where is this guy from, you know?
Finally, we drove two Grand Am's, a 2004 and 2000. Both drove nicely and looked in good shape. As another weird coincidence both were being sold because the guys had bought mini vans for their kids. And... they only lived 2 blocks away, weird if you think about it. --Pause to think about it--- --- Longer pause to be a little freaked out---
I didn't buy anything yet, but am tempted to get one of the above. I won't spoil the surprise (suprise? I dont' know) or really, I just don't want to look like a douche and not get the car I'm thinking of.
I'll keep you posted. As usual, stay tuned folks, my life is a highway and you can drive it with me all night long in my new ride.
*As of publishing time, the car is not officially totalled, but fuck, its a mess and there's a mysterious odour in there that I just can't put my finger on, thats gotta jack up the damage, eh?
Thursday, August 31, 2006
The girls dad apparently smelled the evidence and looked at the dog under the young man's chair and yelled "Damn it Fido, get out of there!" The young man was pleased that he had a scapegoat for his gastric abomination and felt comfortable enough to release a little more of the noxious substance into the air.
Again the father yelled "Fido, get the hell out of there!" The boy was becoming increasingly secure in the situation and finally let a bit more out.
As the smell hit the father's nose for the third time he shouted "Fido, seriously, get the hell out from under that chair before the boy shits on you!"
When it came to pens, however, I couldn't find my high quality writing sticks that I've become accustomed to. Although I can't remember the name, they were blue, clickable type, with a soft grip on the end and a smooth writing tip. They were heaven in my fingers as they converted my thoughts into words... delicately recording notes for future reference. But alas, I had to settle on an 8 pack of BIC Atlantis. The package states that they are 'super smooth', which I guess I should like, since so am I... but I'll keep you posted as I'm sure that you will be deeply concerned about this issue.
Moving right along here, I found my all time favorite little supply - the Post It flag. It keeps my therapeutics notes neatly organized and easily referenced for midterms... when I keep up with it.
So, there you have it - I'm all organized for the upcoming year. Now you are informed, and probably bored to fucking death, as am I, which is why I wrote this.... apparently it didn't unbore me. I need a drink.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
A little background, if you will:
Picture this - a frosty February day, perhaps during winter break, Scott and I head down to Winston's for a pint or ten. We see on the table a little notice informing the patrons of the drinking establishment of the Royalty Club. This 'Royalty Club' rewards its members for drinking pints, martini's and something else, wine maybe. We instantly joined and by the end of the day we had reached our five pint Knighthood and qualified for a pint glass. Granted, I've stolen many pints from that bar in the past so this 'prize' was less than stellar. However, I was now a knight, so that made me feel pretty f'ing spectacular.
Flash back to the present:
So we believed we were somewhere around 50 points, (or pints, I guess) but were not exactly sure. We inquired with the waitress and it turned out I had somewhere in the high 6o's. We decided right then and there to bring home our tshirts, and I think we're Baron's now or something like that.
I'm proudly going to wear my shirt, which cost me... at ~6 bucks per pint... $300. Hope it fits well, ha.
I've been doing pretty much nothing for the past few days except watching tv, bbqing, having some drinks and checking out the city.... its nice to finally get some time off from work.
Yesterday I went to school and bought some textbooks, spent 140 bucks, so wasn't too terrible, I guess. Decided to get a new dispensing coat too, not sure why, but I like how white and clean it looks... I'm pretty fuckin' professional now. Later on we went to Broadway for a Booster Juice and checked out the new river landing thing and then on to the Mendel to check out whats new... apparently art is weird and I just don't really get it.
Been a good time thus far, and I have a whole week left before I head back to the depths of Thorv, so I'm gonna squeeze every good time out of the next 7 days, you might be included, feel special.
The woman puts down her knitting, proceeds to the door and grabs her coat. Her husband inquires "Are you coming with me? What do you need to see the doctor for?" The old lady says, "If you're cracking that rusty old thing out, I'm getting a tetanus shot"
Friday, August 25, 2006
Of course, the first one to come to mind is to leave my first name, cause it's awesome, but change my last name to the comical "Hunt".* I told this to Andrew and we shared a brief chuckle at our elementary humour. He then told Marcie, who wasn't a bitch today, and Lindsay.
The climax of my story is when Lindsay yells it out... trying to find out why its funny. She didn't really get it until we all chuckled again at hearing the name.
Lynne, on the other hand, still doesn't get it, I'm pretty sure.
*For those blonde readers out there, it's Mike Hunt... or 'my cunt'. heh heh, cunt.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
In a bold move, the International Astronomical Union has passed its judgement on the fate of our solar system's smallest and dearest planet. Because Pluto is smaller than our very own moon and has a drunken orbit that veers into that of neighbouring, and much less attractive, Neptune, Pluto has been stripped of its planetary title and has been demoted to the less sexy 'dwarf planet'.
I, for one, am appalled at the new decision. I went through elementary school knowing of the nine planets - not eight planets and a dwarf. Will the IAU's power go unchecked? What's next, will they decide that Jupiter is now a star? Will they decide that we can no longer be between Venus and Mars? What planet will women and men be from, respectively?
Either way, we will remember you fondly, Pluto.
The class started with us doing a 'loose leash' walking course where we had to hold a tennis ball on a spoon and the leash in the same hand. If our dog pulled on the leash the ball would fall off and we'd look like fools, demonstrating how embarrasingly poor we had done in the class. Anyways, we finished the two laps in record time (I assume, there was no stopwatch or times to compare against, but I'm pretty sure it was a world record).
We then moved on to a game of musical chairs. Three chairs were put into the middle and we walked around them to The Call by the Backstreet Boys (or BSB as a superfan like me would refer to them as, ha). When Vanessa (V-Dog, the teacher) turned down the music we were to put our dogs into a sit/stay outside the chalk line and then grab a chair. We couldn't sit until our dogs were staying and if they got up we had to give up our chair and put them back into it.
The first round was easy. Rocky, the white german shepherd, who I thought would be my biggest competition, blew ass and ran all around the place. We were down to three. Hub (or Pug, or some stupid name), the angry stray border collie with the whiter than white trash owners, and Lucy, the miniature rottweiler mix dog. We continued on our merry way and this time it was a bit of a challenge. I had Maddie in her down/stay and sat down, leaving Hub's owner without a chair. Just as we were cinching the deal she got up though. I thought ti would be in poor taste to kick her (JK). Instead I got up to put her back into her stay and that skank stole my chair. However, Lucy, who I actually have to give credit for coming a long way since the start of the course, got up. I took that chair and cruised to the final round. The Lightning Round, lets call it.
Hub and Maddie. He kept turning around and growling and lunging at Maddie, something he had been doing for a while. Maddie was oblivious to him though and was concerned only with finding stray treats on the ground. God love that little garbage disposal. The music stopped, Maddie knew the drill and dropped down into her stay. I ran to the chair and sat down just before she got there. As Vanessa counted down from five the sweat was running like bullets out of me, I was so nervous she'd get up. She didn't though, and we won. Fuck yeah, we're awesome.
After that stellar performance by my dog and I, we listened for a bit to the dog sport options out there. Flyball, Agility, Rally Obedience. Then we did some Rally Obedience and again, guess who kicked ass. Although that violent little border collie can listen well to his skin head owners and did quite well.
We ended off with a little certificate. Yeah, my dog is a graduate. Autographs available on request.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Sunday, August 20, 2006
First of all, if you've never experienced this flavor explosion, you're in for a treat. It resembles used dish water and tastes like Thrills gum (those soap gums... I think they're purple). My favorite aspect of this unique refreshment is the large pint glass it comes in, and yes I know all pint glasses should be the same size, hence 'pint'. BUT, this one is a large bowl like glass. This is where the fun comes in. When already slightly intoxicated I like to order one of these large pints and put my hands around the glass and pretend I'm drinking from a giant's shot glass. Sort of like Jack and the Beanstalk...
Wow, that was a waste of time and just made me look a little unstable, but I'm publishing it anyways, ha!
Anyways, so Josephine has some sort of syndrome that allows her to serve coffee, donuts and other overly processed fat bombs to the waiting snack holes of our already obese population, yet prevents her from doing it with any sort of efficiency. I'm generally one of those 10 minutes behind the rest of the world types of people and when I'm running ten minutes late for work and need to get to the Drugstore before I catch more shit from Marcie, yet need that shot of caffeine to prevent me from slitting my wrists in front of the first cranky customer of the day, I don't have time to listen to the Timmy's Tard say hello and make small talk with every fucking customer.
Now don't get me wrong, I love tards. They are great people who deserve love and respect and are just as valuable as anyone else on the face of the planet. However, I also believe that everyone has a role in life and I just don't agree that Josephine's role is behind the Tim Horton's counter during the morning coffee rush. I'm sure there are myriad other jobs for her to do there that wouldn't slow down the efficiency of the otherwise well oiled Tim's machine.
Anyways, thats just my two cents.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Plus... why the fuck should I be running the till when there is a tech or 'cashier' on duty who is paid to do that job.... should they not be doing that instead of talking to patients... which happens to be my job? Fuck you Drugstore Pharmacy.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Friday, August 11, 2006
Now there are five people in our awesome circle of friends, and I know you're all wishing you had been there.
These bracelets are fucking ugly and it sort of itches, but I guess it represents my friends. Ha.
Wednesday, August 9, 2006
However, if anyone has it, please email it to me, I think its almost time it made another round of forwards.
Finally we, the listener, come to the conclusion that this man is out of refills and therefore must talk to his doctor to be reevaluated on his condition for which the medication is being prescribed. He says "Fax my doctor". Marcie replies "We no longer do that unless its an emergency because it compromises patient care. The doctor must reevaluate you to make sure what he has prescribed is working effectively." Details emerge that this man has only had this prescribed once since the dose had been changed and therefore more than likely should see his doctor to make sure that he's okay at said new dose.
The man continues to argue that he doesn't have to see his doctor, that we should do this for him. Marcie continues to say that although she might do it this once for him (yes, she caved... but she's a woman and they're emotionally weak creatures) she will not do it in the future and that he must be responsible to get to his doctor. The man decides he's had enough and shouts at her "Are you done with the lecture? All I want is for you to get a new prescription." Marcie responds "I'll be finished when you understand why I'm telling you this." to which he replies "I'm tired of listening to you" and walks away.
Needless to say he got his drugs, but what a fuckin' stupid old goat. I hope he chokes on his pills. Just kidding, that would be tragic.
In hindsight, that was a boring story... one of those 'you had to be there' things. Sorry if you've read this far, thats a part of your life you'll never get back. SUCKA.
Sunday, August 6, 2006
I went to the doctor and after a 3 minute highly in depth examination he decided that it must be an infection despite not asking me if I had taken antibiotics yet. When I volunteered to him that I don't feel infected, that I took penicillin and that the neck pain was muscle and not lymph nodes, he responeded that it was probably an infection.
He wrote me a script for clindamycin... a ten day course. Fuck that... I'm not taking that shit. No wonder bugs are so resistant to antibiotics.
Anyways, I'm still left with the question, wtf is wrong with my face?
Thursday, August 3, 2006
And loan me some cash, cause I'm strapped. Ha...
Working as a pharmacy student I feel the need to question this practice and ask him for a written prescription to take my business elsewhere. I am then informed that there is a 10 dollar fee for writing prescriptions. What a joke. My dog's diarrhea had damn well better clear up... she's apparently eating capsules of diamonds wrapped in gold and platinum for that price.
Tuesday, August 1, 2006
Bless you morphine, although you may bung me up, I will always appreciate the numbness you bring to the gaping holes in my head.
In I went, walking up the winding stairs to check in with the smiling receptionist who directed me to the waiting room. No more than five minutes elapsed before a portly nurse invited me into the back room and directed me to sit in the comfortable, yet intimidating chair. Fast Times at Ridgemont High was playing on the tv as they discussed the risks of extraction. The time came for me to assume the position... reclined and open mouthed. Dr. Britton wasted no time in slathering some anasthetic on my gums and before I knew it he had poked me 7 times with his mouth and head numbing needle.
After a brief intermission to let the drugs work he came back and sliced open my bottom gum and cut my tooth out. Stitching 6 knots into my jaw he moved on to the top tooth. Man, did he use a lot of pressure to knock that bastard out, had he sneezed or blinked or whatever, he could have slipped and that chisel would have been balls deep in my brainstem. Luckily, I'm okay... I know you were probably holding your breath.
Anyways, a few more stitches and a prescription for hydromorphone and penicillin later, I was on my way back down the stairs to my car.
As I strolled down twelfth street a tiny black kitten ran up to me and rubbed his filthy little head on my jeans. I bent down to slap it away but it only licked my hand, making me feel all soft inside and sad that it was out on the mean streets of Broadway alone. I then noticed another orange kitten walking out in th emiddle of the street. A British chap asked me if I knew who's cats they were. "Nope" I replied, "do you?" I already knew the answer... he had no idea. We looked around and discovered another black kitten hiding under a car but there was no sign of a responsible cat to care for her brood.
I decided to take them to take them to the SPCA where they would be put down or adopted, or whatever. "Help me load these guys up, eh?" I asked of the British man. He picked up one of the black cats and headed towards his car to find a cardboard box. I crawled under the truck to find the shy cat while the orange one was busy chasing ants. I picked them both up and walked back to my car. Throwing them in the box and into my back seat, I hopped in the front and took off towards the pound. The orange kitten was having none of it though and climbed out of the box and onto my shoulders, licking my face and purring loudly. I stopped at the Extra Foods on Clarence to pick up a bigger box, one with a lid so that I wouldn't step on the little orange bastard.
After that stop I made haste to the SPCA where I dropped off the three kittens to await their fate. Hopefully they all make it and find good homes. If you're looking for a cat, go ask for those ones... they were wicked cute. And to whoever dropped those kittens off there, or whoever is responsible for them... I hope you get cancer.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Anyways, Petsmart has dog training there as well and as we're walking by I see a dog that has the same goofy ass walk as Maddie and looks, except for coloring, identical in everyway. I asked him waht kind of dog it was and before I finished my own inquiry I knew that the next two words out of this stranger's mouth would be "Great Dane". Still, the news was taken with a sigh of relief... the woman at obedience is slightly less crazy than once suspected. I was thrilled that I now had a breed to associate my dog with. No longer is she lost in the depths of the gene pool... she has a history, a lineage... of some sort. My dog is not just a regular mutt... she's a great danish mutt.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
The man, we'll call B.J. (because they're funny initials, I never really knew his name)... wanted to discontinue his meds and wanted me to okay that decision without really knowing what was going on. I'm not a doctor and had no idea what his case involved and not only that... I have no fucking clue how most antidepressants work yet. His psychiatrist was apparently out of town for 7 months... which made me want to take up psychiatry... but I brought to his attention that maybe he should see another one in the city, her replacement or whatever. He replied that he didn't care for her and that she kept saying he was OCD although he didn't think he was, although to anyone who doesn't have Down's syndrome, it was apparent that he did. How to tell a crazy person that their doctor is correct in their diagnosis? I wish we learned that in school.
Check me out though, I eventually talked him into going back to his G.P. and not to off himself before his big speech that he had to give the next week. So, I'm taking credit for saving his life through a referral to someone who gets paid to exclusively deal with crazy guys like him.
Seriously though, I hope he's okay. he seemed really nice and I wish I got his contact info to call him back.
This story wasn't as good as I remember it being, or my story telling skills are lacking. Just pretend that was the best story you've ever read about me talking down a crazy dude. .... he had a bomb strapped to his chest or something and there were hostages... yeah, hostages.
Monday, July 24, 2006
So, since she isn't what she seems, or seemed, there has been a lot of speculation. No wI don't know if people are familiar with certain breeds... but a few that have been suggested to me are : australian cattle dog, labrador retriever, border collie, short haired newfoundland (wtf..) and my all-time favorite, the Great Dane.
We were at Paws N Train for our weekly obedience lesson when one of the instructers came up to my sister, dog and I and said "I have to ask you a weird question, but can I smell your dog?"
My first response was "What the hell?" but then my curiosity took over and I allowed her to pick up my dog's scent. She inhaled a deep, sensuous breath and exhaled with her eyes closed... and then it came "Yep, just as I thought, she smells just like a Great Dane."
I was confused... this woman was saying my dog had a specific scent? I've heard that some breeds have a characteristic bark or walk, but scent? She continued on about how she raises Great Danes and how my dog looks just like one, with the noble head and peculiar way of sitting (she puts her ass on everything! the couch, my bed, she likes to sit with her feet on the floor and her ass on a chair or whatever). There really isn't too much more to this story, but I hope I got across my point that my dog smells like a Great Dane, cause check her out, apparently she does.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
I'm a douchebag...
Anyways, afterwards I was driving home and felt like I needed a vice... something classy to do with my time and something that would give me a satisfying taste experience. I went to Smoke and Ashes on Circle drive with the intent to explore my flavor options. The man behind the counter was a friendly guy who looked like he had had more than his share of years of smoking, if you can visualize what I'm trying to describe. He asked me what I was looking for and I said I was a pipe virgin and needed to be shown the ropes. He was helpful and directed me to a filter pipe which apparently prevents mouth burn. I picked one out and he said it was a good choice.
Next we moved on to the tobacco. He opened up the jars on the wall and let me smell them all. Some smelled pretty damn good but I had to narrow it down to one... I can't be rushing into it all at once, need to take some baby steps towards this new habit. I settled on an aromatic cherry tobacco and he gave me 50 grams, which is a lot more than I thought... I'm terrible at that sort of thing.
After I made my purchase I rushed home and entered flavor country. Still trying to get the hang of it, but the internet has a plethora of sites that teach one how to smoke a pipe... practice makes perfect.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
This calorie log looks like a corn dog with powdered sugar on it. The first bite was good, and the second... but then I started to realize what the fuck it was I was eating -- a melted chocolate bar wrapped in batter. I would have been just as satisfied to eat a stick of butter. This thing sat in my stomach like a brick and the thought of another one would have made me hurl. So, we moved on and had a bit of ginger chicken and finished off with some saskatoon pie. It was pretty good all in all.
The best part was this old dude dancing... I can't really describe it, but lets just say I couldn't take my eyes off his fresh, bold moves. Yuck.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Anyways, back to Maddie kicking ass -- I took off her head halter thing to walk around on just her collar. Normally this results in pulling and distraction, but I think I'm getting the hang of this clicker thing and she's paying attention to me and walking pretty well. A bit more work and I'm back on top with my number one bitch.
More to come on obedience and how much the other dogs suck.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Everything went smoothly till we came out to the explorer to get ready to go. We had brought my dog along because she likes car rides. Anyways, she was sitting in the driver seat and when we moved her we saw the car seat was wet and it stank real bad. I think her anal glands released a bit of a present on the seat which is pretty gross but I'm sure she feels better.
So we're trying to determine whether or not its pee or some other liquid and my sister is looking down at the seat. I see off in the distance a broke ass looking lady walking over towards us... stumbling really. She's weaving while she walks and I'm hoping she isn't coming over, but my fears come true. I try to catch my sister's attention without announcing the strangers arrival but she is still caught up in the mystery of the wet spot on the seat. Suddenly the woman taps my sister on the shoulder and my sister jumps and I was pretty sure she was going to straight arm this elderly bag lady in the jaw. However, the mysterious woman hands her a card which probably stated her sob story, but my sister was visibly shaken (although I think the chick was blind or something sad, so she didn't 'visibly' notice) so she said something about not having any change and we took off.
I think the apple is still in her nose though, I'll keep you posted.
So I buy a new a bunnyhug, it was so soft it really lives up to the name, but unfortunately in the sweltering heat I can't quite bring myself to wear it yet, but one day I will experience the rush of wearing that thing.
We move on and head downtown to the mall there. I decided on getting a nice pair of spy sunglasses at about 150 bucks. I don't see the value there, but damned if I'm not in love with them. The chick working there was good too, she knew her shit, I love it when people at stores pay attention to me and help me get what I need, weird how those girls back at the other store got on my bad side, but thats how I roll.
Moving onto American Eagle I bought a few new pairs of underwear. I think I'm going to make a full switch to boxers from the traditional boxer brief. It may be a summer thing, but a breeze blowing up my pants is better than anything I can imagine. Airy, thats a word I like to use when describing the feeling in my pants as of the moment I put them on.
After that excursion I headed over to Sears cause I saw a sale on duvets... Now I never knew what a duvet was before I saw them in the flyer that appears on my doorstep 3 nights out of the week between 11 pm and 1 am but I was intrigued. So I inquired with my sister and foudn out she had such a thing and felt how soft it was. I don't want to insinuate that I need soft and dainty things next to my skin, but this thing is like hugging a silk bag full of kittens. I bought one and love it. More to come on the kick ass dreams I'll have in my new digs.
Supper was pretty good too, had some bbq'd pork chops with ginger teriyaki marinade and baked potatoes. Finished it up with some apple crisp baked by me, which was so delicious that I thought I would throw it up just to eat it again. I just had another piece instead.
That brings us to now, where my dog is staring at me, and walking around looking for shit to eat. I feed her and feed her but yet she always wants more. Big dog though, crowding 80 lbs now, and tall as a miniature horse. Love that dog, she's the smartest bitch in obedience class.
Probably enough for now, so read it again and digest the material in this post... savor it like my delicious apple crisp. There may be seconds coming soon.