My birthday is coming up soon and my wife wants me to tell her what to get. Is that the best kind of birthday present or what? No more bad shirts or gag gifts that fail to satisfy, just a straightforward tell me what you want, I'll get it for your birthday. Sweet.
June 2, 2012
I was speaking with a newly met potential business client when out of the blue he says, "What is your favorite album. You can tell a lot about a man by his favorite album. What's yours." Jeepers, how fraught and loaded is that question? Do you try and read the guy who asked it and match up something you think he might like, or do you tell the truth even if the truth for you is AC/DC, Lil Wayne or The Ramones? Fortunately, I do have a favorite album. The interesting thing about this record is that even though it ranks #19 on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums Of All Time list, many many people have never heard of it, let alone heard it. So it's the perfect befuddlement for a stupid snap judgment character assessment test such as this. "Astral Weeks," I replied. "Van Morrison's debut album." He scrunched up his face and said, "Never heard of it. Damn, you're the first person to foil my near foolproof character gauge. Everybody says stuff like Thriller or Sgt. Pepper's. Damn." He paused. "Ok then, what's your favorite meal." This guy was seriously starting to annoy me.
June 3, 2012
FLASH FROM THE PAST
I'm going to introduce a new segment called Flash From The Past, where once a month I go back and randomly pluck from the last 12 years a post from another day in KeithSpeak, partly to show that my material isn't dated and that my archives are a treasure trove of humour, wit and benevolent inner guidance not to be missed in this lifetime or any other, but mostly because it's a good excuse to reread myself, which is always a pleasure for me and I've decided should be for you too.
FIRST LINES WE’D LIKE TO SEE
He stood in the doorway oozing that excitement a man oozes when confronted with a beautiful woman slowly descending a staircase wearing an exquisite designer gown that just happened to be backlit by the hallway window, rendering the sheer dress completely diaphanous, and revealing to the now near salivating doorway date the treasures within, which easily made him start to pant as well as sweat, which quickly drove him toward that cliff of no return on the edge of arousal when a man just...jumps, and was now so obviously worked up that the beautiful woman sensed something was horribly amiss, what with the sweat and the drool - when she suddenly realized that her very own feminine wiles were the object of his lust-urges and manly desires! - which luckily, revolted her no end because she knew from a co-worker that the guy had hair all over his back and the thought of touching that sent shivers up her spine to the point where she just had to stop on the steps and throw up, right then and there, effectively quelling the quaking man’s ardor, whereby he lost all steam and regained his civility by informing her that she had spittle on her dress and maybe she might want to change it, or at least put on some underwear.
Is this drop of water not as artful as anything ever painted, sculpted or carved?
The miraculous is all around us, in the everyday, but you have to see, not just look.
June 5, 2012
When Sophie walks into my office, she always goes to one spot near a corner and stands there. I would urge her to come closer to my desk so I could pet her, and eventually she would, but she always stands in this one spot first. Yesterday, I was reading some material about coordination points and how to discover them. My experiments led to but one conclusion: the nearest coordination point turns out to be the exact spot she stands in. Well, I'll be... soon, I'm wondering what else my dog knows that I don't.
June 6, 2012
Caught up to a friend who was downtown with his new puppy. He mentioned that every girl who saw them stopped to fawn over his pup. He said that if he had known dogs were such babe magnets he would have gotten one a long time ago. I immediately thought of his wife, her jealous demeanor, her quick temper, her infamously vindictive nature...but before I could say anything, a striking blond stopped to coo to his new dog. The puppy loved it, he loved it, and I thought, who am I to spit against the wind?
Apartment for rent. 1700 feet long by 5 feet wide. This building is the mother of all illusions. It will make you look thin just by living in it. Amaze your friends with how much weight you look like you've lost! Stop dieting and exercising today! Call Esmeralda at 555-1234.
June 8, 2012
It's been raining for almost a week. Before it started I left something out in the field that shouldn't be out in the rain. But to retrieve it I would have to fire up the tractor and go up there in the pouring rain to collect it. So far, up to this point, I haven't been able to muster the fortitude to get intentionally wet, icky and greasy. But it has gone on too long. The thing is probably ruined by now. I am going to brave the downpour and go retrieve it.
Update: It's ruined all right. Plus, the tractor carved up huge mud tracks leading to and from the thing. The field is a mess, the tractor is caked in mud and so am I. Ah, the rural life.
June 9, 2012
I've noticed bite marks on my desk. I believe they are from a ferret. Now I remember various animals having been in my office, but no ferrets, which makes this a fantastic mystery.
There are a thousand things that can happen when you go light a rocket engine, and only one of them is good.
Tom Mueller, SpaceX propulsion chief
June 11, 2012
Someone had described their boyfriend to me as charismatic. When I met him, I found him to be rather doltish. I wondered, are they mutually exclusive, this charisma and doltishness? And if so, how could she perceive one and I the other in the same person? Indeed, how can one boyfriend possess both if they are mutually exclusive? As you can plainly see, this was one of my most baffling cases.
June 12, 2012
My wife was on the roof yesterday. She yelled down to me how good the views were from up there. I asked her why she was on the roof but never really got an answer. I did, however, get a first hand report on the shape of our shingles and the condition of our chimneys.
June 13, 2012
I had the choice of one thing or another. So I did my research and made comparisons and evaluated the pros and cons and then I made my choice. Pleased with my decision, I moved on. Very good, very healthy, very Keith. Unfortunately, for many of you, instead of committing to the choice you made, you waffle about whether it was the right one, and what it would be like if you had picked the other thing. You fret. Instead ofinvesting yourself in your choice, you fail to commit to it. See? Well stop doing that, ok?
When you look at this pic and imagine yourself in it, do you see yourself walking along one of the dry, rugged benches, or do you see yourself on the smooth, cool water in a power boat, jet ski or canoe? Just curious.
June 15, 2012
LETTER OF THE MONTH
It has come to my attention that you have not published a single picture of me the whole time your site has been up. This, despite the fact that I have sent you dozens. What's wrong with you? Here's one more of me with my cat, Mr. Charlie.
He knew they would come, the space people. He wanted them there and was willing to do about anything to get them, including building this super nifty landing pad. Said, Big Roy, "I hope it's all hot women and their spaceship isn't anything bigger than this really, because I'd still like to have a little backyard left, you know, to barbecue in and kick the footy about. What? The table? Oh, that's my mom's lasagna. She thinks the women might be hungry after a long space trip. But I think maybe they're dieting and worried about keeping their supermodel shapes. Then I get to eat it. I love lasagna. What? The design of the pad? It's Stonehenge, isn't it, only smaller because of the yard thing. Little Alice here is going to turn the house into a museum afterwards and sell tickets to see where they landed and stuff. We reckon this will make us a fortune. That's why I'm hoping the space people come soon. What's that? A name? Oh, you mean like 'Big Roy's Spaceport' or something?"
"I like 'Little Alice's Alien Portal' better."
"But they're talking to me, Alice, not you. I'm the inventor of Big Roy's Spaceport. I'm the person they're talking to."
"Stop having a Roygasm."
And that's what stuck. The Roygasm.
June 17, 2012
Can you plagiarize yourself? Can you incriminate yourself? Can you give false witness against yourself? Why would you?
June 18, 2012
I'm standing in line at the liquor store trying to read the partially covered script tattoo on the shoulder of the woman in front of me. Her tank top is covering about 2/3rds of it, but I can see that it's some eastern philosophical thing about deities and gurus. Spoilingly, it has a misspelled word, spaun instead of spawn, which has the incongruous effect of rendering the tattoo's philosophy suspect and the girl who has it on her shoulder a bit of a poseur.
June 19, 2012
There was such anticipation! My wife was halfway into making what was purported to be the best ever cookie ever made in the history of the world ever. Ever! according to the Internet, says my wife. Hot damn, a sensation worth dwelling on, no? At the halfway point, the dough has to sit in the fridge for 24 hours before baking - which does nothing but ratchet up the anticipation of tasting this out of the world cookie and is a small torture in and of itself - when in the meantime, the lower bake element in our oven fries itself. It actually melted. Our built-in wall oven is original to this house and is over 40 years old. They don't even make this oven anymore. As you might guess, finding a replacement part has been one dark alley after another. In the meantime, the greatest cookie in the history of cookies waits in my fridge - longer than it has to - and it's driving me nuts.
Michala couldn't believe you have to manually descend into hell. Originally she thought she was too young to die, but was now thankful she was fit because this was a trek.
June 21, 2012
I've noticed that none of the quotation sites on the Net have anything from me. I thought I would rectify that by saying some worthy stuff.
1.) He was not a big man, but you could see the determination to kill things in his eyes.
2.) (movie review) ...It was way too freaking long, with too many precious camera "moments" (holding a shot for a long time so we get the "meaning" behind the shot; in legal circles it is called badgering the witness). Ugh.
3.) I sez it before and I'll sez it again: George Bush is a moron.
4.) He was wearing a natty suit, I'm sure of that, but whether this happened on Mars or Jupiter, I couldn't say.
5.) You can't use green!
6.) Sorry dear, but I have to go kill a man and then do some shopping.
7.) When confronted with an angry bear, bobcat or beaver, act crazy. This also works well with drunk uncles.
8.) Stay away from the unicorns, they're not what you think!
June 22, 2012
Surfed into some cranked up astrophysicist on the telly talking about how we ought to wake up and smell the vacuum of space. "We are the only intelligence in this vast universe! And we'd better start to dominate it like we own it! Because we do! We should stop pussyfooting around with space! It's ours! We're the winners! Come on, who's with me!" The host wagged his finger and demurely chided, "Yes, good energy, Lyle, but where do you go from here? Practically, speaking." But by then, the sane train had left the station, leaving the stranded astrophysicist to describe a blood and lust fantasy of conquering armadas of human gladiators roaming the universe in "space suits with spikes on them to show we mean business." Sigh. Click.
June 23, 2012
He couldn't have been more wrong. Whether he was talking about the weather, a sports prediction, his horoscope or his penchant for second guessing everything, he couldn't have been more wrong. Though vexing, I'm sure, for him, personally I found it to be mildly amusing and terribly consistent to the point of predictability; good color, as they say.
-- To be honest, if I was on a game show now and they made me choose between you and this awesomely delicious ice cream cone...
-- I want Mommy.
June 25, 2012
I was introduced to what I thought must be a character in a Douglas Adams book: Keith Ryan meet Ronnie Fishface. LOL right, but what really put the frosting on the Fishface cake was that he looked a little too guppy like. It was as if a fishy type alien had landed on earth and was trying to blend in, unaware of the power of the human mind to connect guppy like looks with an odd surname describing guppy like looks and thusly conclude that this was an alien in disguise. But I did. I should probably call somebody, let them know they're here.
June 26, 2012
After pitching my proposal, I was asked if I was serious. I pondered this, mostly to look more serious, got lost in thought, kinda brought it back, said that I was dead serious, 100%, you bet, and, um, what was it we were talking about? Of course, they thought I wasn't being serious, which I was quick to brush off with a tut tut, pish tosh kind of hand shooing palm gesture thing, which actually turned out to be the Highlight of the Night, as that gesture was a grave insult in their culture and they took massive offence, breaking off the meeting and leaving me to wonder if their original question hadn't been rhetorical all along.
June 27, 2012
I have a friend who talks in half sentences. He'll partially say something and then ask, Do you know what I mean? I usually say, Sure, I know what you mean, even if I don't. Then I have to listen for clues in the next half sentences to see if I can figure out what he's talking about. If that fails, I'll say something like, Whoa, that's incredible. I have to wrap my head around this - start back at the beginning and tell me everything. He's tricky to be around. You have to be sharp.
This is what I'm on about today: fake bowling. Look at that picture. It's not either a strike or a spare, so there is no reason to go jumping up like she just won the Grey Cup - EXCEPT, to fake it all for this photograph and pretend like it's something it isn't. That's boldface trickery! I deplore that and I'm sure you do too. I AM NOT AN ANIMAL! Ok, thank you.
June 30, 2012
Myself, Susan and the dogs had gone for a walk in our fenced 20 acre field when the dogs smelled something terribly exciting and started running around following the scent. In no time, they flushed a baby deer. This fawn was very young and very small and had Sue and I not been able to immediately corral the malamutes, certainly would have been a goner. We took the dogs home and then I went up and opened all the field gates hoping it would find its way out overnight. The next morning's plan was to take the tractor up to the field and make a racket to see if it was still there. On my way up, between the barn and the field, I drove past a big doe grazing just below the drive through gate into the field, which was open from the night before. Both Sue and I had seen her around the property several times in the last couple of days. She didn't spook, she just watched me drive by. Hmm.
For the next fifteen minutes I motored around the field and woods to see if the fawn was still there. I saw nothing. But when I reached an elevation point, I looked down and saw that the doe had now come into the field. Great. I am quite a ways from her, but I start driving in that direction. Halfway there, I see it. The doe is standing by some firs and at her feet is the little fawn! That was the mother! Somehow, the baby had gotten into our fenced field and had been there for days. The mother had been hanging around outside for days. And now they're reunited! The fawn was so small next to her. It was genuinely heartwarming. It was truly lovely. But now I had to get them both out. I kept driving toward them and the doe started to hurry off with the little fawn trying its awkward best to keep up. They moved along the path that led right to the main gate which was perfect, but it was quite a ways up; watching the little deer trying to keep up was, well, beyond precious, and a little worrisome - would it make it? Several minutes later, the mother was now standing directly in front of the wide open gate waiting for the fawn to catch up. Then, with the little one right at her heels, they walked out of the field together and onto the rest of our property that isn't fenced. Man, that was neat.