I don't have a secret money making machine people!

I’m not sure what it is about me that gives off the impression that I have money.
Maybe it's the uncut hair, the unwashed car or the fact that I never bring a lunch to work? I guess it could be the slightly dirty clothes from wearing the same pants three times before washing? I just don't know.

I know for sure there's no secret safe hidden behind my copy of the Death of Superman haning on my living room wall, but why do people seem to think there is? I think Joel might be slipping a few false rumors into the drinking water of North Battleford, but anyway....

Today, Brian, a fellow reporter, told me about a photographer selling off all of his digital camera gear. The entire package is only for $7,500.

What an amazing deal!

I don’t get it. I just got out of college five months ago. Usually college grads have a nice student loan to repay.

I moved to a new province at that time. It’s not a cheap task to move long distances and get everything set up. From hook-up fees to damage deposits, to vehicle inspections to health care cards.

Another small tale: earlier this year, during the coldest of cold snaps, my car wouldn’t start.

My boss’ solution was to get a house with a heated garage.

Yeah, like I have the money to buy a house right now. Maybe if I have a little cash left over from paying the rent I have then I’ll start thinking about a house.

Damn, some people are stupid.

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

Dung Beetle Guy awakens

I was out patrolling the streets. The weather has improved so I decided to come out of hibernation.

The wind whipped over my mask, and my little plastic goggles were starting to fog up, but that didn’t prevent me from hearing a man in distress.

My hears picked up the sound of a man near death. He was breathing deeply, huffing and puffing away.

I began to sprint. My legs were churning at an incredible pace. Damn I wish I could fly. I turned the corner and saw the old man. He was so tired he was leaning against a shovel.

I inquired about what I could do to ease the old man’s pain.

I did what he said and finished shovelling his driveway.

Damn I’m a chump, but that’s all in a day’s work. It’s not as glamorous as the comic books make it seem. Not all superhero’s have chiseled features and perfect breasts.

Some of us would fit in better at a coach potatoe contest.

North Battleford no longer has to live in fear. The DBG is back in action and looking for some villainous grime to put through the wash, followed by the rinse and then the spin cycle. Oh yes, three beatings all at once.

The passing of the DEP

There’s some sad news in the world of Dane. My good friend and fifth roommate DEP has passed away. He went to a better place on Tuesday, Jan. 25 while he was asleep.

DEP was my diabetic, epileptic, permafried amigo.

I first met the big guy when working at Moxie’s back in the day. He made me laugh quite a bit.

One act of hilarity came when he seizured on line. He nearly stabbed himself when he landed on a knife. I yelled for help. We sat him down and everything was fine. We both laughed about it a little later.

I’ll miss the guy. I hope he's up in heaven playing video games and smoking weed with the best of them.

He was a really good person. I wish the best to his family.

1 cent richer

My day just improved ten fold.

I found a penny in my desk. The old sports editor must have left it behind.

When I picked up the penny, a 1993 one-cent piece, I started to get excited. I haven’t found any money for a long time.

Sure a penny here and there, maybe a dime or two but nothing substantial.

I have to go back to when I was seven. I was in Zellers in Rocky Mountain House.

There was a 20-dollar bill lying on the ground. I froze with delight. I couldn’t believe it. My imagination roared to life at all the possibilities.

I picked it up and told my mom. She asked me what I was going to do with all that cash.

I ended up buying two Heman toys, and still had some capital to spare.

The rest went to what I believe as the beginning of my pixie stick problem.

This penny, this 1993 penny, made me remember the good old days. $20 could buy you two toys with enough pocket change to rot out your baby teeth.

I think I’ll put this penny in my left shoe and hope for the best from the rest of the day.
It should be good I’m going bowling. I’m going bowling. Ya-hoo.

Banking is fun, eh?

The world has turned into a very untrusting place.

I went to the bank today. A usual task for anyone. I had to update my address information.

I swiped my ATM card. Then the lady wanted to see some photo ID. I whipped out my drivers’ licence. Still that wasn’t enough.

She proceeded with the questions. “What’s your current address? Where is your home branch located? When was your last withdrawal?”

It’s the last time I try and keep them posted on where I am.

I just wanted to change my address. It’s not like I went to the teller and said give me all the money in this account.

What’s the world coming to?

I hope I'm not too late

Don't go see Elektra!!!

I know it's been in the theatres for a little while now and millions have people have tossed away their money, but I hope I save a few souls.

It's crap. I can't believe the first movie I've seen in the theatre since Arthur was so bad. I waited four months to spend $8 to watch a film and now I'll wait another long time. Probably until Episode three.

The movie tried to make Elektra into a sensitive superhero. She's supposed to be a killer not a sissy.

I am too dissappointed to say more.

Just don't go see the movie. You'll be sad that you wasted your money.

Weather swap

It‘s time for a trade. I’ve lived my first 25 years in the cold weather of Canada and now it’s time to head somewhere warm.

I’ve come up with a solution for mother nature’s nastiness.

The people of Canada should swap with the people of Mexico. We’d take over their country for the next little while. It’s only fair.

They get hot, summer-time weather for most of their lives. They’ve had their time prancing around in the sun. It’s my turn now.

It’s a total swap. The people on the North and South poles go to the equator. The people in Canada head to Mexico. Finland to Spain. You get the picture. I have to do some math to figure out exactly where everyone should go. This is just a rough idea.

I’ve suffered enough. It’s time to bring equality to the world’s weather conditions.

Who’s with me?

The wait

Why can’t drug dealers ever be on time. It’s forty fucking below, and I’m loitering at 7-11 just underneath the “No Loitering” sign.

“Where the hell is he?” I mumble under my breath. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

The snow’s falling. My hands are tucked into the pockets of my dingy boarding jacket. The damn zipper broke off and the two sides swing free in the wind. Snot is starting to freeze to the inside of my nose. I can't feel my toes.

I should have worn a couple more layers. Another hoodie at least.

“He’s 15 minutes late already,” I whisper in disgust. There’s no one listening to me. If someone was here, they’d probably ask me what I was doing or why I didn’t dress for the weather. Damn I hate people.

“Come on, come on, come on.” I want to get back to my warm futon and trip out on some crazy cartoon. Maybe some Lupin tonight. I haven’t seen any of that crazy shit for ever.

There’s the little fucker. He’s clothed in a toque, scarf, mitts, snow pants, winter boots and the puffiest red jacket that I’ve ever seen.

“About fucking time. What took you so long? I’m freezing to death,” I enquire of my hookup.

“I was watching cartoons, and mom wouldn’t let me out of the house until I was bundled up tight,” he replied in his squeaky prepuberty voice.

“Now remember. I want the red ones. You get me the fucking green one again, I’ll talk to the boogey man and have him chop you shity little head off in your sleep. The green ones are shit. Who the hell likes limes anyway?”

I hand the seven-year-old kid, who’s buying my pixie stickes, $5.

“Make it snappy. I’ll be watching so don’t even think of running off with my dough. I'll slit your cat’s throat if you try anything funny.”

Damn kids. You just can't trust them.

My name is Dane and I have serious problem

I hope everyone learns from my severe pixie stick addiction. It was rough. I was always looking for my next fix. I had seven-year-olds buying me the devil's sugar powder from 7-11 once I was banned.

It got so bad once. I whored out my comic book collection. I let a greasy fingered kid read my Spiderman number 1 by Todd MacFarlane. It was a low point in my life and I've had quite a few low spots.

If it wasn't for some good friends who planned an intervention for me, I'd still be running around the Battlefords with blood-shot eyes and insulin coursing through my viens trying to equalize my sugar levels.

The intervention was hell. It took 37 ninjas to hold me in place. Pixie sticks are a lot like PCP. They both start with P. It was another ten minutes of intervention before I gave in. I'd had enough. I didn't want to be a pathetic junky anymore. I didn't want to grovel at the feet of the all-powerful, supreme-being convenience store clerk.

I've been clean three days, seven hours, 36 minutes and I'm still counting. I'm going cold turkey. I know some people tell you to ease yourself off pixie sticks with ju-jubes, but I think that's just a whole other problem.

I regularly attend the meetings. I'm the only one that stooped as low as the evil pixie. There are a couple heroin addicts and a few who crave the meth, but I'm the only one shovelling the dust of pixies through my digestive system.

I wish everyone to help me through this horrible time in my life. I'd like a couple hugs here and there as well as a few nice smiles. With your help, I am sure I can change my life around.

Thanks for listening,
Dane

What would happen if....

I saw this article on TSN.ca;

Angry soccer fans kill goalkeeper

Associated Press

1/18/2005

COTONOU, Benin (AP) - A teenage goalkeeper for Benin's national youth soccer team was killed by angry fans after a loss to Nigeria in a weekend match, officials said Tuesday.
Samiou Yessoufou, 18, died Monday from injuries suffered when he was attacked a day earlier near his hotel in Benin's largest city, Cotonou, said Issa Hayatou, chief of the African Football Confederation.
Newspaper reports said Yessoufou was stabbed by angry fans after Nigeria defeated Benin 3-0 Saturday during the African Youth Football Championship.
FIFA president Sepp Blatter expressed his condolences.
''It was with utter horror and sadness that I learned of the death . . . in circumstances which, if the latest reports are true, beggar belief,'' Blatter said in a statement. ''The death of your young player is a tragedy which horrifies the entire football world.''
Benin is located in western Africa, between Togo and Nigeria.

I started thinking what would happen if there was ever a soccer lockout. I'm sure the fans would go nuts, almost as nuts as Joel is in the early mornings after a long shift at Rolf's. There would be rapes, pillaging and total anarchy. Just like at Rolf's. I don't know how many times Joel's been raped.

Anyhow, it's a shame we didn't have the same type of fans over here during the NHL labour dispute. It'd be over by now. A long time ago. We'd be watching hockey on TV, or we'd have killed all the players by now.

Who to look up to?

As a kid, I couldn’t imagine life without the NHL.

In the winter, Saturday nights were for hockey night in Canada. In the summer, they were for playing street hockey and pretending I was the great Paul Coffey racing end-to-end scoring a hard slapshot goal, beating Mike Vernon glove side.

I’m starting to wonder who young hockey players today are looking up to for their inspiration?

Who are their heros now that the League and the NHL Player’s Association is in a stalemate and the year is all but officially over?

NHL and more specifically the Edmonton dynasty of the 80s is what got me interested in playing, watching and loving hockey.

With the lockout still raging, there is no superstar-calibre players for youth to admire and emulate. Their heros aren’t on television scoring high-light reel goals, and leading their teams to the trophy of all trophies.

Hockey youngsters need professional players to look up to. They need inspiration.

The junior leagues just aren’t enough. They’re good to watch, but not in the same league.

The WHL, OHL, QMJHL players are still figuring out the game. They are not quite ready to make that leap to the elite, if they were they’d be locked out right now.

I never made it to the NHL, hell I never made it past Bantam hockey, but I still never would have made it that far without NHL players to idolize.

Kids need to imagine they are their favorite player. They need to pretend they are Jerome Iginla, Martin St. Louis, Martin Brodeur.

It should be about the love of the game, not how much money the league is actually losing. It shouldn’t be how much the players are being played. It should be about the fans. What are the fans going to do?

As it stands, they is not as much outcry for hockey as I would have guessed. The fans are looking elsewhere for their hockey fix. Attendance at junior hockey has increased dramatically. The players were hoping for some public support, but they are not getting it.

I don’t see how long the players hold out. I’m guessing their stockpiles are dwindling at a rapid rate.

Not all of them have other sources of income. They don’t have that steady flow of cash cycling into their bank accounts every month. They need their $1.8 million, the league’s per player average, a season. They’ve become accustomed to their gigantic, over-the-top paychecks.

The players’ association is paying the players $10,000 a month as long as the lockout continues. That’s a little less than the $150,000 a month average.

I don’t think they’ll want to sit out two seasons now that the first one is all but done.

The owners will lose some, but there isn’t an owner in the league that uses his NHL team as his main source of income.

Most of them are all wealthy individuals already. Their pockets are still filling up with cash as the lockout rolls along. They can wait for as long as they have to.

i do sympathize with the players. It’s not their fault that salaries got out of control.

The owners kept giving their players more and more money. The contracts kept growing and growing.

If my boss was willing to give me way to much money, I wouldn’t tell him not to. Then when he tried to take it away, I would be pissed.

The owners should have put an end to their stupidity before they lost control.

Now they need to establish some guidelines, create cost certainty, so history doesn’t repeat itself.

And that’s just what Gary Bettman is doing. The players are going to have to live with it. They are going to cave eventually. The only question left is when?

I’m also going to be a tad upset in 10 years if all the European players are winning the golds, while Canada is dropping down the rankings.

Our stars shouldn’t be playing for other leagues. The kid over on the Eastern hemisphere get to watch the likes of Joe Thorton, Jose Theodore and Vincent Lecavalier.

The interest in hockey is going to skyrocket over there and shrink over here.

Canada could use some high-calibre hockey. Let’s end this trivial dispute and put the players back in the rinks.

All Good Things...

*yawn*

Yo, Ross! What's up?

Heh, not much. Just waiting for Joel to get here with the new script. Aren't these 6 A.M. readthroughs a bitch?

Definitely. Haven't had to do one of these things for two months now! Anyway, I'm gonna go check out craft service, check ya later.

Lates. Hey Steve!

Excuse me, I believe I made it quite clear that I wished not to make eye contact with anyone on set, much less speak with them. Now fuck off, and perhaps go fellate a donkey while you're at it.

Prima donna... whoa, what happened to you, Dane?

Oh, m-me? You're t-talking to me! Wellsir, I'vebeen inrehab pastmonth letmeoutforthis... yeah!

Rehab? What the fuck, Dane; you've been doing drugs?

...drugs...? DRUGGGGGS!!! Where the fuck are they?

[Dane grabs Ross and holds knife to his throat]

You've been holding out on me, yousonofabitch! I know, the GNOMES told me.

Holy shit!

DRUH-HUH-HUH-HUGS!

[Dane drops to his knees sobbing and repeatedly headbutts Ross in the groin]

DRUH-HUH-HUH-HUGS!

[Two beefy men grab Dane, inject him with something, then toss the syringe to the side]

Excuse me, sir. Please refrain from agitating Mr. Dane, for everyone's safety.

Fuck! What the hell was he doing? Cocaine? Heroin?

Pixie Stix. I've seen them lead many young men on a road to ruin. Now, if you'll excuse me...

[Ross grabs the empty syringe and looks at it]

Extra Strength Horse Tranquilizer... expires 10/23/63... hey, there's a few CCs left! I'll be saving you for later.

Excuse me, everyone! If you could please take your seats while I hand out the scripts, we can get down to business. I've got some bad news, Jeff Probst won't be joining us today, as he's currently occupied with a coucil meeting for the World Association of Nefarious Gods. Don't panic, we have a temporary replacement lined up. Let's give a warm welcome to Mr. Donald Trump!

You're fired!

[silence]

You've... been let go?

[crickets chirp]

Ah heh heh heh... alright, let's start. Take the lead, Mr. Narrator!

Your excitement before will pale compared to your excitement ten minutes from now! For you are about to witness an event so exciting, the rest of your life will seem shallow and dull. What am I talking about? It's the stunning, thrilling, orgasmic conclusion to Super Fun Happy Amazing Hour!!! IN CRISIS! Get three spare pairs of underwear ready, 'cause this shit will blast apart your colon!

TEN MINUTES LATER

I feel pretty, oh so pretty
So pretty and witty and GAAAAAAY...

THIRTY MINUTES LATER

Ross, I am your father.

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

TWO HOURS LATER

Man, all of the times we've had together, all of the laughs? I mean, I've practically known you all my life. I can't believe it's taken me this long to say it... but I want you to know, just in case we don't make it... I love you.

I love you too!

SIX HOURS LATER

There are times in everyone's life where they will face hardship. Adversity stares them in the eyes, gives a twisted sneer, then kicks them square in the balls. So I always say, be prepared! Wear your Iron Cup of Lawful Good, then give a swift kick right back! Now, you see that horde of bloodthirsty demons? I want all of us to charge in there and fight! For glory! For FREEDOM! ARRRRRRRGH!!!

Holy shit, Steve just charged into the middle of that army all by himself! And... he's dead.

Nothing glorious or free about getting your crotch chomped off by a zombie, I tells ya.

TWO DAYS LATER

It was a brilliant and epic struggle, but I've finally cemented my co-ownership of this blog. My birthright would not be denied. Now come! Let us drink to the memories of our fallen comrades! Perhaps one day we will find a cure for the massive case of mutated syphilis that Ross is enduring, but for now, let's eat, drink and be merry!

Okay, so it's finished! What did y'all think?

[dead silence]

YOUMOTHERFUCKINSONOFABITCHI'LLCUTYOU!

Shit! Dane, here's a pixie stik!

Rooby rooby roo!

And there goes Dane, rocketing through the bloody roof. Goddamn it, there goes the damage deposit for this place. [pause] You know, Scooby Doo usually floats down right about now. So, can I get the opinion of someone who isn't a slobbering addict?

Fuck you. You piece of shit.

I utterly despise you. I can't believe I left a "political discussion" with four lingerie-clad librarians from Finland for this!

YOU'RE fired!

Piss off, Trump. Man, you kept us going for awhile, Joel. Always promising us something great for the finish. And look what that got us! You know, fuck you and this stupid blog. Sure, it was something neat for the first week or so, but stretched it and beat it so much I don't wanna even touch my computer anymore because it's tainted with your tired schtick. Thanks for the shitty memories, I guess. C'mon guys, let's go party at my place. Free Brazilian waxes for everyone!

Nah, that's not good enough!

We demand blood!

Rip his balls off!

I get his shoes!

MR. TAMBOURINE MAAAAAAAAAAN!

Oh, shit!

Will Joel manage to escape from this imminent beating? Tune in next t... hold on, there seems to be several guns pointed at me by the readership of Super Fun Happy Amazing Hour. They're demanding a swift resolution. Today. Or else. Well, then! We continue!

IOU one scene of unimaginable violence.
Signed, Joel

*kaff kaff* Ugh, where am I? A dumpster? Arrrrgh... let's just see. Stretch, wiggle my big toe, find my ear...

There it is! Good as new! But, now what?

AAAAAAAAAAGH!

*CRASH*

Ugh, Dane just landed on me... that smarts.

Good morrow, blogging brethren! Ah, I've found your ear precariously planted in my rectum. There you are, good as new!

... you're not trying to stab me. What happened to you?

I'm glad you asked, chum. You see, whilst soaring through the air, I had something akin to a religious experience. I found Jesus; I crashed into his living room. Luckily, Jesus is the sporting type, so after ascertaining as to why as I slobbering all over floor, he injected me with some aspartame. I feel like myself again! The only side effect is that I have a tendency to do a poor impression of a dandy fop.

Man, that Jesus is quite a guy!

Quite so, sir; quite so. While I was plummeting back to earth, I perchanced to ponder your precarious situation. Sir, we started as compatriots. There's really no other way to end it, is there? So, let's just remove Ross and bring things back to the beginning. Oh, I do hope the poor lad isn't heartbroken!

Well, he's off ripping out pubic hair, so I doubt he'll care. But this is great! Wow, returning to the blog in a somewhat normal capacity! Heh heh, just wait'll you see who I've got lined up to guest blog next...

Sir, I'd suggest you leave that whim behind for your own sake.

Okay, okay. Let's roll, Dane!

Chim Chim Cheeree!

And so our young heroes frolicked gaily off into the sunset. The Crisis was over. Which means I'm out of a job! Hey, does anyone out there need some narration done? My oral skills are excellent! I mean oratory! Oratory! Oh, this isn't a good start.

Dude, just shut up and give the people what they want.

Oh, right.

THE END