Dogs will listen to you prattle on about anything as long as you throw the ball at the end of the monologue.
March 2, 2012
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
What a splendid group of liars, cheaters and haters running for President.
Don't forget to vote?
March 3, 2012
Some granny was sitting outside a mall entrance smoking a cigarette. A young girl with a child in a backpack and one in a stroller walked past her and mentioned that the old lady shouldn't be smoking as she was setting a bad example for her children. The old lady exhaled and said, I'm 87 years old and still enjoying a goddamned smoke. You're a freakin' teenager with two kids. Who's the bad example?
March 4, 2012
A fellow webmaster told me that some time ago his site was hacked because he took an unpopular stance on a particularly hot button subject. He said the hacker defaced pages and left hate messages. He also left an incriminating piece of evidence that led to his arrest. The hacker had his day in court and turned out to be an unbalanced, mentally deficient miscreant with a penchant for 1s and 0s. The judge forbade him from using a computer for 30 days. My friend said sarcastically, Ooh, that'll teach him, your honour. The judge, overreacting because he was 73, didn't know how to use a computer, and didn't realize until then that his decision was clueless and useless, flipped out that his ignorance had been called into question and said that my friend was in contempt of court. He gave him 10 days to cool off and said, Maybe that'll teach you something. My friend said the first thing he was going to do when he got out is digitally take down the judge. Oh the irony.
I live in Canada, one of the most beautiful countries on Earth. I live in British Columbia, one of the most beautiful provinces in Canada. I live on an acreage in a small town on a beautiful lake in the interior of beautiful British Columbia. My quality of life is directly affected by where I live. Yours is too.
Humour is overrated. I see a funnyman and I want to smash him.
Don't get between me and my food.
I was born to be a football hooligan.
Long after I drop out of school, I shall continue to bully.
Soon, I will come to enjoy the taste of Guinness a bit too much.
In the future, my lawyer will dispute the psychologist's report of "dead eyes, no remorse, callous disregard for self or others".
In prison I will make it clear to all, Don't get between me and my food.
Later, I will marry a stripper who drinks too much and cheats on me.
We will have several unwanted children. The boys will be just like me.
March 8, 2012
Another writer slagged me off because I write fiction. He said that making stuff up in my head is infinitely easier than doing actual reporting and interviewing subjects and doing research and getting the quotes right. He said I had no truths to adhere to, no standards to uphold and because I could make up anything, had less credibility than his work in non-fiction. I agreed with him. But added that picking and choosing from an infinite set of malleable and sand shifting probabilities, narrowing down the billions of plotline and character combinations and then making art out of nothing that existed before was more creative, probably a lot more fun and ultimately more rewarding to accomplish than his work in non-fiction. He agreed with me. That was tidy.
March 9, 2012
I have never played a computer game. I have never touched a controller, never made Mario jump - and I've been using computers since 1984. As a 13 year old recently asked me when informed of my virgin gaming status, What the hell's wrong with you?
March 10, 2012
What if on another planet or parallel universe when it's your time to die, you're just plucked up and whisked away?
His office was a windowless room. There were nine monitors, two servers and a rack of hard drives. His seat was a plastic garden chair, the desk had three keyboards on it. He had speakers mounted in all four corners of the ceiling and the only light source aside from the glow of the monitors was a desk lamp, maybe 60 watts. The room had no ventilation and consequently, was about 95 degrees. His job? He was a security officer for a department store. He watched shoppers all day. He told me he was ready to kill himself. I could see why.
March 13, 2012
He'd had the same button down look all his life. His wife said she was bored with it and why didn't he do something about it. So he shaved his head, pierced his ears, got a back tattoo of a winged dinosaur and tried to rob a convenience store. She flipped out. She told him she meant for him to loosen up and buy some jeans, maybe a pair of flip flops, not to become some skinhead criminal with a freaky tattoo now looking at 3-7 years.
Lack of communication is often cited as the demise of many marriages.
March 15, 2012
If you've been feeling a little punk, down or depressed lately, try this: just before you fall asleep tonight, suggest to yourself that you will have a pleasant, joyful dream that will completely restore your good spirits and vitality. Then see what happens.
Remember when you had to go to the library and pull some book off the shelf to learn about something? The fact that that book could be 10 years out of date meant nothing. Seems almost quaint, eh. In the future I suppose the Interweb will be supplanted by some chip they put in your brain and people will mention how quaint it was back in the day to enter some keystrokes, stare at a monitor and read to learn.
March 18, 2012
Now it's true, I have a high opinion of myself, but I have to ask why everyone doesn't have a high opinion of themselves. You know? Love yourself, that's all you really have to do to have a wonderful life.
March 19, 2012
A middle aged woman was going from house to house conducting an actual survey. She didn't call me on the phone, she didn't request I fill in an online form, she actually knocked on my front door and wanted answers to her questions. Wow, retro spam. Thing is, it was just as intrusive and unwanted as its digital brethren, so I deleted her.
Incredible! I met these three pets in the span of a single day:
Mr. Wiggles (a Great Dane with liquid hips),
Mr. Bungles (a cat with lousy co-ordination, as if there could even be such a thing), and
Miss Behavin' (a dog with the looks of a nun bent on mischief).
Cripes, whatever happened to Rex and Spot?
March 22, 2012
Two youths, sitting with their musical instruments, overhead at a bus stop.
-- The tuba is the uncoolest instrument there is.
-- It's the baddest instrument in the orchestra. Nothing is bigger than a tuba.
-- That thing weighs like a ton That's why the fattest kid is always the tuba player.
-- It's got a deep, manly baritone. Your oboe sounds like someone pinched their fingers in a door.
-- You look like your lugging around a dead body.
-- Yeah, well your little clarinet case looks like a purse.
-- Why did you ever want to play the tuba in the first place?
-- I told you, it's the baddest instrument in the orchestra.
-- Kettle drums are badder.
-- You're crazy. You can't carry kettle drums around. The tuba is portable.
-- Yeah, as portable as my Mom's Honda Civic.
-- So what's your story? Clarinet not good enough for you?
-- Oboes sound sublime, are harder to play than a clarinet, and are much more expensive.
-- An elitist snob, just like I thought.
-- A tuba player oaf - just like I thought.
The bus arrived. They picked up their instruments and boarded.
March 23, 2012
In the English language there are plenty of so so words, but Electro is a pretty cool word. Electromagnetism. The Lockheed Electra. Electrocute. The sound of it implies lightning bolts and power surges. Why, if I had a baseball team we wouldn't be the Lions or the Bears, we'd be the Electrodes, and we'd be shocking. Would too.
Hello ladies, my name is Trevor, and this is my sweet ride. We're a pair, ladies. A package deal. We like drives along the beach and sunsets. Turn ons: car washes and groovy sweaters. Turn offs: tall girls who need more leg room. So ladies, if you're under 5 feet and weigh less than 13 stone, Trevor and his car are looking for luv. Call us.
March 26, 2012
I'm talking with a dude who says that his best pickup line is to tell women he's a count from Liechtenstein. They always fall for royalty, he informs me. But you're from Moncton, I remind him. He grins. What's the capital of Liechtenstein? He shrugs. Vaduz, I say. What language do they speak in Liechtenstein? He shrugs. German, I inform him. You'd be good at this, he says. Good god, man, how can you fake being a count from a country you know nothing about? All you have to know, he states, is that women love royalty. Huh, could it really be that simple?
March 27, 2012
If you can't visualize the 'new and improved' future you, how can you possibly expect to be a different person by the time the future arrives? If you want to be rich, imagine yourself as rich. If you continue to see yourself as not rich, then that's what you'll continue to be. Then the future you and the present you will be the same you. That's hardly personal development. Capish?
A friend asked why I wasn't on Facebook and Twitter. I said, Why should I be? He said, Because everybody is! And I said, that's why.
March 31, 2012
Went out of town yesterday and was shocked at how much traffic there is in other cities. If you've never lived in a small town, you don't have a clue how quick and easy it is to get around. If you did, maybe you wouldn't live where you live?