Super Fun Happy Amazing Hour!!!

Look Joel

2009-12-04T20:18:00.000-08:00

Look, I reset my password. I can log on again.

Wow, it's been a long time. Where to start? I guess I could do a really long update and give every minute detail from the past year. I don't think so though. I'll sum it up very quickly.

Forgot password to blog.
Left kitchen job for accounting job.
Went back to school. Again.
Moved in with Kerrie.
Turned 29.
Partied with Joel at Ducky's the kereoke bar.
Bought condo with Kerrie
Got gym membership to recapture my 27-year-old figure.
Got engaged.
Spent seven months talking about and planning a wedding.
Bachelor party. Wild Turkey, Wild Turkey, Wild Turkey
Wedding outdoors beside some really big mountains
Maui. Fun - lots and lots of it.
Bought season three of Three's Company. Now have one and three. Where's two? I don't know.
Super exciting accelerated accounting course. Numbers and spreadsheets = good times.
Big 30 happened.
Snow storm. Trapped indoors watching WallE with Kerrie. They rhyme.

That's about it.

Say You Want a Revolution

2008-08-10T00:59:00.000-07:00

Hi there! We're deep into the lazy days of summer, and I'm sure you're feeling refreshed and utterly content with life. So content, in fact, that on a cellular level I'm sure your mitochondria are kickin' back and having a brewski with some ribosomes. Well, as usual, I'm here to shit all over that like a retarded doberman with diarrhea.

One of the many statistical reports the U.S. government puts out is the Science & Engineering Indicators Report. This is basically of collection of data concerning the state of science in the United States; you know, enrollment numbers of post-secondary science programs, amount of funding allocated to R&D programs, that whole grey-and-deeply-boring ball of wax. Boring, that is, until you read the section concerning public attitudes towards science.

Now, I am painfully aware that some people's drama radars are pinging wildly at the moment, because they feel I'm going to shove them down some Creationism v. Evolution Slip-N'-Slide and that usually only ends up with a huge muddy patch on the lawn and grass stains on our knees as we slide about on plastic molded talking points that we've heard ten thousand times before and I torture this sad f***ing Slip-N'-Slide metaphor within an inch of its f***ing life. Well, rest assured that although that whole debate does factor into the survey I'm going to mention, I'm going to treat it how I usually treat it, which is like a hot woman with a flamethrower. No matter how interested you are in touching it, it's just never a good idea.

Anyways, a bunch of surveys were taken worldwide asking people the answers to some science literacy questions. The exciting and sexy answers were then captured in an absolutely fabulous bar chart, which I'm linking to you here. Go ahead, open it in a new tab, we might be referring to it a couple of times. Now, for the first rush of being completely f***ing bummed, consider that the longer the bar the better the responses, then consider the just utterly terrifying expanses of white space in some of those chart groupings.

Well, we can temper those feelings of despair right quickly if we look at some of these questions. We'll quickly brush past the big bang and evolution ones, if only to note the U.S. responses in relation to their relatively high marks on other questions, which I find pretty interesting... but the hot woman just sparked the pilot light on her flamethrower, so let's move on, shall we? Getting the laser question wrong I can forgive. In fact, if the question had been "Are lasers made out of sound or out of light?" I'm pretty sure the number of correct responses would increase dramatically. Most of the remaining questions I'm sort of indifferent to. I mean, I would definitely like to see a global society where everyone answered these questions right, but at the same time, an otherwise intelligent person can safely lead a happy and productive life without knowing where an electron falls on the quantum scale.

Unfortunately, there are some troubling responses as well. First off is the question dealing with whether or not antibiotics have any effect on a virus. The one and only correct response is NO! Antibiotics have absolutely no effect on a virus. They might piss off a virus, perhaps, as all these weird things keep crashing into it while it wages war with your white blood cells, but antibiotics certainly won't kill it. The reason I find this troubling? Here's why. The fact that close to half of the United States (with even more dismal results overseas) would take an antibiotic to treat their head cold if they could is distressing.

But ultimately, the thing that disturbs me the most, and what ultimately inspired me to write this post in the first place, is the response to the question of whether the Earth goes around the Sun or vice versa. Hey, no brainer, right? 70% of Americans answered this question correctly, so that's okay, right? Actually, no, that's pretty f***in' far from okay. You know why? Because there are still 30% of people who think the Sun orbits us. And the European Union, which is popularly held up as the last enclave of rational thought in the world, scored even worse!

You know why this is distressing? Because this isn't some boring scientific term quickly forgotten after the semester is over. This isn't the internal workings of some scientific "black box" that the average dumbass on the street isn't going to understand. It's practically Science itself.

First off, the Copernican model of the earth orbiting the sun is pounded into our heads relentlessly the moment we can grasp the concept of outer space. We are constantly reminded of it in school, our friends and family will touch on it from time to time, and even the goddamned Smurfs brought it up. It is common fundamental knowledge on the level of "there are clouds in the sky!" or "Don't screw your family members!"

The reason why? So much of what we understand about the world is a result of the Copernican model. For example, without it, gravity as a scientific concept goes out the window. No gravity, then there goes a fair chunk of physics. The adoption of the Copernican model was so vital to the Scientific Revolution of the late Renaissance that I can't fathom where we'd be without it.

As a result, to not understand or to go so far as to reject that model is a level of thick-headed pig ignorance so massive that it actually needs to be achieved through dedication and hard work. That fact that so many people worldwide are willing to pursue it is just depressing.

Gracias Por La Música

2008-07-28T14:50:00.001-07:00

So against my better judgment I went with my mother to go see Mamma Mia! yesterday. I say my better judgment because although I do enjoy musicals it's kind of weird for a bachelor like me to go see a movie centered around ABBA songs with his mother. That does send out a certain kind of vibe, you know. But ho, I soldiered forth, and remember, there but for the grace of God go you.

And dear lord, was the theatre ever busy last night. I realize there had been some rain earlier in the afternoon, but goodness, people! You don't need to run inside and watch Step Brothers at the first sign of miserable weather! Really! It's like how on last Tuesday, because there was a bit of rain during the day, there was absolutely nobody on the bike trail that evening. However, on Thursday, when there was no rain all day but the temperature was an entire two degrees above Tuesday, you couldn't help but trip over the tiny dogs all over the damn place. Plus, there were two shirtless dudes riding a tandem bicycle chasing geese and calling each other "bro", and if you think a confirmed bachelor taking his mother to see an ABBA musical is pretty gay, just consider that. Anyways, because of this mad rush at the movie theatre it took about fifteen minutes to travel ten feet in the concession line and eventually I gave up to return later during the Chiquitita musical number. The aftermath of the concession combat looked horrible. It was like the Vietnam of concession stands. The shivering clerks were standing ankle deep in spilled popcorn with Coke syrup splattered all over their shirts. I sense that some intense cases of post-traumatic stress disorder are developing.

So what did I think? Well, first, I have to give some minor spoiler warnings. I'm not going to reveal the main twist of who the girl's father is, but pretty much everything else is fair game. And really now, if you're going to this movie because you think the story is going to be compelling, then honestly, go f*** yourself.

First of all, I'd like to point out that Amanda Seyfried, the girl who plays the main character Sophie, has huge snoobs. The filmmakers also made no attempt to hide that fact. So hooray for that!

Also, I'd like to point out that the main conceit of her inviting three strange men to her wedding on the off chance of one of them being her father is kind of off-putting. I mean, they do mention it a few times in the plot that it's kind of a shitty thing to do. But in the end, the men are kind of non-chalant about the whole thing. I tell you what, if I get invited to some island and discover that my ex-girlfriend owns the place, a bunch of her other ex-boyfriends are there as well, then we find out the whole thing is a ruse to find out to see who the girl’s father is, and to top it all off, everybody's singing Spice Girls songs all the time? I’m burning that resort down and I’m getting the hell out of there.

Anyways, as for the movie, the first fifteen minutes or so are on a level of dogshit so foul that it could only come sphincter-fresh from Cerberus after a Taco Bell bender. Most of the characters leave terrible first impressions, and the opening musical numbers just aren’t that good. Some of the movie was filmed on location, while the rest was filmed on a soundstage, but the filmmakers make absolutely no attempt to blend the two and the result is pretty jarring. Thankfully, the level of good to bad starts to even out so it's only bad about half the time, and around the halfway point the film's goofy charm finally starts to overcome the various shortcomings.

Meryl Streep's dancing during the first Mamma Mia sequence was pretty bizarre. It's was sort of like a choreographed seizure with some hot flashes thrown in for good measure. Still, not as weird as a bunch of dudes trying to do a dance routine while wearing flippers, which happens later.

During the Dancing Queen segment the entire female population of the island goes dancing down to the docks, leaving a great deal of men flummoxed and hanging off the side of buildings. Not only is this analogous to what the whole Mamma Mia experience is actually like, it also enables some dude with a piano on his boat to add the signature piano flourishes to the end of the song. I just had to wonder about that guy and his history. Did he find an old piano for sale thirty years ago and hear it speaking to him? “Buy me, put me on your boat, and you won’t regret it!” And so he did, and thus thirty years later he was able to improve the whole Dancing Queen experience for a bunch of “happy and carefree” women. I suppose he must look back on the whole thing and on some level feel a touch disappointed. That’s what you get for letting a musical instrument tell you what to do. Remember, not all destinies are great.

Meryl Streep’s version of The Winner Takes It All is supposed to be the show-stopping number, but if you're not into being swept away by schmaltz a lot of entertainment can be gleaned by imagining the Pierce Brosnan character thinking, "Christ! When is this crazy b**** going to stop singing?" I doubt Pierce Brosnan intended that interpretation of his performance but damn if it isn't easy considering he spends the entire piece standing straight as a board and glancing from side to side like he's going to steal her necklace and he's checking to see if anybody's watching.

Also, at the end of the song Meryl Streep is so overcome by emotion she has to dash up the stairs to her daughter’s wedding, with Pierce Brosnan quickly following. What makes it great is that when she reaches the top she leans out of a window and looks down to see a shouting Pierce Brosnan standing on a rocky outcropping. I’m sorry, I burst out laughing at this part. So, about two-thirds of the way up Pierce decided he’d jump out onto a craggy rock with dangerous footing just to shout dramatically instead of bothering to go up another flight of stairs? I mean, she has your attention already, she is singing some damn pop song about you, after all. I don’t think some weird flair for the dramatic is going to get you any more points.

Of course, that's nothing compared to the preview for Nights in Rodanthe, based on the novel by Nicholas Sparks and yet another one of those baby-boomer romances that comes down the pipe every now and then. Richard Gere is an overworked surgeon who discovers the joy of life through a romance with an overworked North Carolina inn owner. What really took the cake were the shots of horses running down a beach that were worked into the closing montage. That kind of cheese don't come natural. That's some moldy Velveeta right there.

So that was the Mamma Mia! experience for me. I imagine yours might be quite different from mine, but then, I was always a special child. Arrivederci.

The Filmgoing Joel

2008-07-21T14:13:00.001-07:00

Movies I have watched lately...

The Dark Knight: Excellent movie! Probably the best I've seen all summer. What can I say that hasn't been said so far? Just that the movie is almost unforgivingly bleak and that you won't be leaving the theatre with a smile on your face, nosiree. Unless you're subjecting people to your bad Joker impersonation and yelling "WHY SO SERIOUS" at your soon-to-be-ex friends. And let's not forget Aaron Eckhart's turn as Harvey Dent, people! That was superlative as well, but it's been kind of buried underneath the mountain of deserved praise Heath Ledger has been receiving.

Hellboy II: Good movie. Addressed one of the issues I had with the first Hellboy movie, being that even though Hellboy is supposed to be this ultimate badass, he sure turns out to be a lousy fighter. Glad to see Abe Sapien with more personality. Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane voiced Johann Krauss and contrary to my expectations I loved the performance. The design of the movie was spectacular, and the movie had enough goofy charm to make it a good sorbet to cleanse the palate of the unrelenting bleakness of The Dark Knight. Go see it, won't you?

On DVD:

Hard Candy: I think they will show this movie to my friend Ben if he ever happens to go to hell. Why? Well, this is essentially a two-character piece, with one of the characters being a pedophile, and the other character being Ellen Page. It's a predator-prey situation with the players switching roles. Instead of Ellen Page on the run from some creepy pedophile, the pedophile gets tortured by Ellen Page. Now, you might be thinking, "Right on! They won't let me cut off the balls of child molesters in real life, but at least I get to watch it happen in a movie!" Well, be careful for what you wish for. Neither character is very likeable, and if neither of them have your sympathies, then who cares? There's some decent psychological thrilling going on, but the second you start thinking things over after the end of the movie the more sour the taste in your mouth will be.

The Baxter: A romantic comedy about the guy who usually gets left by the girl at the end of an average romantic comedy. A fertile source of comic inspiration, but the end result is a bit muddled. The movie could either have been a romantic comedy told from a different perspective or a satire about romantic comedy tropes, but the movie tries to weld them together and the result is merely okay.

Sunshine: I really liked this movie. There were some absolutely gorgeous scenes but unfortunately there also had to be some utterly lame-ass ones as well with the movie shoehorning in the whole "maniac who is driven insane by the enormity of space is running around and ruining people's shit" thing at the end, which at this point in science fiction is INCREDIBLY tired. This was obstensibly a hard science science fiction movie as well, which means that the things that take place are supposed to be somewhat plausible and acheivable by small extrapolations of our scientific acheivements to date. Unfortunately, a little research reveals that there's a lot of horseshit mixed in to the movie's science stew and that tempered my enthusiasm somewhat. Still, regardless of accuracy, the final scene was beautiful.

DJ Crazy McLazy of WLZY in the Hizzouse

2008-04-28T14:03:00.000-07:00

1. You have 10 dollars and need to buy snacks at a gas station, what do you buy?

... you know, I've sat and pondered this question for the past two minutes. This is not a good sign for the rest of the quiz. Pass.

2.If you were reincarnated as a sea creature, what would you be:

A manatee, because I'm rotund, pretty amiable, and I don't have the common sense to get out of the way of outboard motors.

3. Who's your favorite red head???

Who can choose?

4. What do you order when you're at IHOP?

A pogo stick, because I have to live up to the franchise name

5. Last book you read?

Dharma Punx, about a hardcore punk guy who used to be really addicted to drugs and into crime who turned his life around with Buddhism. Neato!

6. What is important in a relationship?

Tolerance, nowadays, because we're all special individuals who demand that others fit into our lives all nice and perfect and that we're not expected to change anything about ourselves in return.

7. Describe the last time you were injured?

Therapy has treated that time, and I no longer wish to revisit it.

8. Of all your friends, who would you want to be stuck in a well with?

Well, it all depends. Will we turn into psychic ghosts and make cursed videotapes and get to crawl out of the well together and then out of television screens and make people's hearts explode with a concentrated dose of the suffering we endured at the bottom of the well? In that case... *picks name blindly out of list* ... Ben.

9. Rock concert or symphony?

Which concert? Which symphony? Probably the concert. Although really, concerts have become a lot more staid nowadays so I don't know if it would make a difference. I went to see the New Pornographers last October and everybody just stood and stared at the stage.

10. What is the wallpaper of your cell phone?

A grainy picture of some skyscraper windows. Came with the phone.

11. Soda?

Do the wheels on the bus go round and round??? Damn straight!

12. What type of shirt are you wearing?

A greeny dress shirt/uniform shirt with "Tuokko" embroidered above the right pocket.

13. If you could only use one form of transportation, which?

Pogo stick, or Moon Shoes if Pogo Stick is disqualified because of being mentioned earlier.

14. Most recent movie you've watched in the theater?

Thurston Hearts the Who. At the new theatre in Red Deer. 21 bucks! 21 bucks for two tickets to see a movie in its seventh week. But oh, the sound and picture were pretty. So I guess it gets a pass. But for god's sake, get more people at the concession stands.

15.Name an actor/actress who you think is hot:

Helena Bonham Carter

16. What's your favorite kind of cake?

Black Forest Cake FTMFW!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!

!!!!

...

*cough*

17. What did you have for dinner last night?

The Cheapskate Burger at Montana's Steakhouse

18. Look to your left, what do you see?

Forms, manuals, bottles, DVD sets I listen to at work, Super Mario Mushroom Candy Tins

19. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?

Nope

20. Favorite toy as a child?

One of the longest lasting toys I had was a KITT from Knight Rider, that I eventually ended up lobbing off of a hill. Because it was time for KITT to lose. Actually, all of the good guys ended up getting their butts kicked in all my playtimes.

21. Do you buy your own groceries?

No, my manservant does

22. Do you think people talk about you behind your back?

Y'know, there's really nothing to talk about. They might go, "Wow, Joel's kind of a weirdo!" but that's like the sky wondering if the people are calling it blue behind its back.

23. When's the last time you had sour gummy worms?

Sure thing

24. What's your favorite fruit?:

Banana. Although technically it isn't a fruit, or so I hear. Anyways, it has the least fuss out of any "fruit".

25. Do you have a picture of yourself doing a cartwheel?

No

26. How do you feel about long distance relationships?

I feel asleep

27. Have you ever eaten snow?

Yep

28. What color are your bedsheets?

Tan with blue designs

29. What's your favorite flower?

Robin Hood Best for Bread Whole Wheat ... that joke works a lot better said out loud.

30. Were you or are you in ballet?

No

31. Do you listen to classical music?

No

32. Do you have a "wacky noodle"?:

...

No

33. Do you watch Spongebob?

Yes, Spongebob is the Looney Tunes of the millennium. Haters better recognize.

34. Last food you ate?

How odd, a banana

35. Do people consider you smart?

People think I'm either brilliant or an incompetent boob depending on... nothing really. I don't even have to do anything.

36. What time is it?

12:43, and I still have lunch to eat! This quiz is too freakin' long.

37. Is your away message on?

NOOOOOOOO

38. Have you ever tried gluing your fingers together?

In 1st grade

39. What curse word do you use the most?

Jackass

40. Do you own an iPod?

Yes, due to be replaced because of failing battery.

41. What time is your alarm clock set for?

7:55 A.M.

42. What CD is currently in your CD player?

Flight of the Conchords Distant Future EP. Can't find new album because CD stores in Central Alberta are f**tarded and I keep forgetting to pick up an iTunes card.

43. What movie do you know every line to?

Wayne's World.

44. What is your favorite salad dressing?

Cashmere scarves

45. Would you ever date someone covered in tattoos?

Temporary tattoos

46. How old will you be on your next birthday?

29

47. Do you enjoy giving hugs?

No, I think at the last moment the person will shove me away then kick me in the balls

48. Last time you had butterflies in your stomach?

Yesterday, I thought I was constipated but it turned out no

49. What's the way people most often mispronounce any part of your name?

Simple to pronounce, terrible to spell

50. How much money do you have in your pocket/wallet?

Enough!

Lunchtime...

In Repose

2008-04-25T14:10:00.001-07:00

Hi! Joel here, broadcasting live over the airwaves of Radio Free Joel. And I mean Radio Free Joel as a takeoff of the popular R.E.M. song Radio Free Europe, not Radio Free Joel in the sense of a plucky radio station devoted to saving Joel from tyranny and oppression in a big grassroots campaign run by lots of starry-eyed college students where they play kick-ass protest songs written by famous bands, and then there's this huge benefit concert where all the cool indie acts say stuff like "The message is Joel!" or hold moments of silence in my honour... damn, that all sounds really cool. Can we make this happen? Is there anyone who wants to arrest for me a controversial and deeply political crime? Let's do lunch!

So yeah, in an earth-shattering change of pace, I'm writing this post in my notebook at home instead of furiously pounding a post out during my lunch break. This affords me a more leisurely pace. Like, I could get up and have a sandwich and play an hour's worth of Rock Band at any time if I felt like it. And the best part is that unless I explicitly tell you that I've taken a break, there's no way you can tell! You still experience the uninterrupted flow of searing wit and clever wordplay you're used to on a daily basis. The only problem is that my artistic vision might get brutally edited by that sadistic jerk I like to call Lunchtime Joel. Yeah, you've all read that guy's posts, and you've seen what they're like! Where's the passion, man? He used to have ideals! Damn, what a tool.

So I spent the evening tidying up the place. You know, cleaning the bathroom, taking out the garbage, and organizing the bedroom. (I also did a bunch of push-ups, but that's neither here nor there.) When I first came to this basement in October of last year, I hated the place but vowed to tough it out until my contract at the library ran out. It's kind of amazing how much my attitude has changed. I was glancing about my room after it was all tidy and I was amazed at how homey it felt. It's almost like I've got roots here now. Not enough to base an award-winning miniseries on, but roots nonetheless. I guess it's a good thing too, seeing as I've just gained permanent status at the library. Ah, what can can compare to the loving embrace and soft carress of job security? Although I have to admit, it does get a bit clingy at times... no, Job Security! Put down the knife! I honestly wasn't talking to any other women! NOOOOOO!

Remembering Jason Segel's Wang

2008-04-24T14:15:00.000-07:00

I saw Forgetting Sarah Marshall on Tuesday, and I really enjoyed it, despite suffering from one of the gigantic drawbacks from stadium seating: one’s ears are usually directly in front of some nimrod’s desperate pawing-about inside of a popcorn or candy bag.

Some general thoughts:

I liked it better than Knocked Up, but that’s mainly because I find the women in Knocked Up terrifying. There was a bit of a dust-up after the movie came out where Katherine Heigl commented on how although the movie was really fun to make, the women in the finished product came across as demented shrews. As wary as I was of that comment when I first heard it, after watching the movie I honestly don’t disagree. I know I’ve been out of the game for a while, but is that what a modern-day relationship is really like? If so, I’m off to standing around the airport dressed in robes and handing out religious literature.

I loved the CSI riffs in this movie. I don’t mention this very often but I utterly despise CSI and all of its forensic bastard children, so I very much appreciate watching those smug jackasses getting lampooned. You know what I find most boggling about CSI’s popularity? People will tune in week after week to watch gross, disgusting, perverted crap, but if you show those same people a scene from Sweeney Todd they’ll complain about all the killing and violence. (Or complain about the fact that there’s singing, but that’s another rant entirely.) Really? You don’t like the violence? Oh sorry, maybe it would be better if Sweeney sodomized the corpses before Mrs. Lovett made the pies. Yeah. That’d make it an average episode of CSI, then.

After the movie was over and I was leaving the theatre, I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror before I managed to “prepare” myself like I usually do. You know how it is. If you know you’re going to pass by a mirror, you’ll stand up straighter, open your eyes wider, smile… to put it bluntly, you sex yourself up. It will all happen automatically, too, almost subconsciously. All so when you see yourself you’ll think, “Yeah! Lookin’ good!” And of course you’ll go back to your normal demeanor as soon as you’re away from the reflective surface. So yeah, I saw myself before doing all those subconscious preparations and damn if it wasn’t frightening! I mean, I looked so dour! Do I always look like that? I looked like I just witnessed a horrific quadruple chainsaw murder after finding out my girlfriend just cheated on me with my mother. How do I stop doing that? Is there a special cream you can rub on your cheeks? How about an exercise regimen?

Oh and P.S. you can totally see the main character’s wang in some scenes. Seriously, who was framing the shots in this movie? They did such a lousy job there. I figured I would point this out because nobody’s mentioned this once anywhere else.

Affirmative

2008-04-23T14:04:00.001-07:00

This is an actual private e-mail exchange between me and my accountant friend Dane. Make sure you tell no one of the delicious secrets contained within, for neither of us wish to have the upsetting of the delicate balance between the world superpowers caused by our foolish hands. Thank you, and please stay seated afterwards for punch and pie.

From: Joel Nielsen [mailto:atriot44@heatedmale.com]
Sent: Thursday, April 17, 2008 3:19 PM
To: Dane Lutz
Subject: Affirmative

You should watch Flight of the Conchords, I haven't laughed so hard in ages. Because it's business time. That's a reference from the show, but you haven't seen it so I guess you wouldn't get it. Still, it's pretty funny if you had seen the show. So just pretend that you did and then maybe we'll all get something out of this. Come on, work with me here.

So if we're going to go see the Flaming Lips, should we make up a Bad Days sign to wave about? (P.S. Bad Days is a song by the Flaming Lips from the Batman Forever soundtrack. It was also Dane's favorite song circa 1995)All it would take is a marker and some neon poster boards. And I bet they've never seen that at one of their concerts. They're all like, "That song? That was from Batman Forever. Nobody likes that song except Batman fans." Then you would flip out because you're actually a Superman fan. I guess it wouldn't be cool then. I'd have to engage you in mortal combat -- again -- so the medics could shoot you with horse tranquilizer. It would be a pretty memorable concert though. I think they could even mention it on a DVD interview some time.

When I was going out to my vehicle at lunch today, there was a group of teenagers from the nearby school parked in one of the spaces hanging out. At first I was kind of pissed, all like, "Who do these kids think they are? What a bunch of jerks!" Then I realized that they were hanging out in a library office's parking lot. That's not very cool. Who knows, I guess the parking spaces in front of the accountant's office were all full. That's where all the magic happens. And the 3-card monte. Damn shyster accountants, always fooling me out of a buck.

Cataloguing books about talking to babies,

Joel

Subject: RE: Affirmative
Date: Fri, 18 Apr 2008 13:23:08 -0600
From: dlutz@studaccountant.com
To: atriot44@heatedmale.com

You are wrong!!! I saw the Business Time video. I am an informed individual. Other than that though, I haven’t seen anything else by them. I guess I’ll have to boycott them since they are so funny and it wasn’t I that discovered them. I’ll have to put on my stubborn cap and cape and be the only guy out of the loop.

I’d do anything to get mentioned in a DVD interview. Maybe, it’d be captured on film and placed on Youtube. We’d be famous. They’d make a reality show about us called Librarian and Accountant. Of course, we’d have to get real life actors to play us. David Spade for me and David Cross for you. If Spade turned the role down, I’d be okay with David Foley. I don’t know any other daves, so Cross has to accept the role of Joel. The lead singer from Foo Fighters isn’t a very good actor.

I’m surprised you didn’t sit down with the teenagers and told them some “back in the day stories.” Or were you too busy getting the broom out of the trunk of your car and chasing them all away?

Back in my day we didn’t hang out in parking lots. We were too busy studying our EGMs, trading fatalities and sharing secrets about FF3. Damn were we cool and we still are.

dane

Catharsis

2008-04-22T14:07:00.001-07:00

So my car got stuck in the middle of the massive snow drift that formed in my driveway last night. A massive snow drift that formed in the MIDDLE OF F***ING APRIL!!! What in the flying f**k is going on? F**ing asshole f**ing sh**-faced wind! Do you know there are places on this earth where winds are refreshing summer breezes that cool you on a hot day? Did you know that? I wouldn't know that. The only thing I've ever known of wind is that it's a vicious soul-sucking b***h. It's an oppressor! That's right, the wind is The Man, and all it's doing is trying to keep me and my brothas down. Well that s*** don't pop, homey! I got da mind to pop a cap in its windy ass, know what I'm sayin'? I'm going Boston Tea Party all up in here! That's right, me and my crew are rolling up on the Wind's boat and dumping it's wacky-ass tea all into the ocean. You wanna tax me? All you're taxing is my patience, you stupid-ass British colonial wind! God! That's right! S*** is on! Half nelson, fool! Y'all facing my half-nelson! Never been beaten! You better be IN IT TO WIN IT, 'cause I'ma BRING IT ON, yo!

Regular posting will resume tomorrow after the writer goes home and has a good cry.

April Flurries Bring May... Curries

2008-04-21T14:03:00.000-07:00

First off, I would like to deliver an FU (or Foo) to this godawful weather. I should not have to deal with these ridiculous snow drifts at the end of April. I would like to make a withdrawal from these snow banks and deposit them in a nice slush fund somewhere. Or margarita fund, as the case may be. And I already retired my poor, beleagured toque! Can't I cut the stupid thing a break and not constantly force it to warm my scaly scalp?

Man, that snow bank joke was pretty terrible, wasn't it? I'm not going to delete it though. Might as well deal with my personal failures head on.

You know, the more I think about it, the more I realize that winter is like some perverted, drunken uncle. When he comes for his yearly visit, you're almost sort of happy to see him at first. It's like, hey! I remember this fun, colorful guy! Good times! But wouldn't you know it, soon he's back to walking around the house in an open housecoat with nothing on underneath, vomiting on your friends, and taking shits in the oven. And just when you think you got rid of the guy, it turns out that his flight got cancelled and he's staying for another week!

Who else votes that they change it from Old Man Winter to Perverted Drunken Uncle Winter?

On a happier note, I'd like to announce another birthday! Yes, today is the birthday of the crotchety woman I sublet my house in Rocky Mountain House to. She's pretty cool but she can be real bossy at times. Yeah, she's always like, "Pay your bills!" or "Get married and have some kids so I can be a grand... person you sublet to!". Always getting on my case like that. What a nosy broad.

Alone Again (Naturally)

2008-04-18T14:09:00.001-07:00

Guess what! It's the middle of April! Which means that school's pretty much over for the students at the Canadian University College right door to my flat. As a result, my roommates have all left. They really didn't waste their time getting the hell out after their final tests were written, either. I think that incident with the missing bed left a sour taste in all their mouths. But come on! You'd think they'd hang out for a couple of weeks and just chill for a bit! But nooooo... off to bigger and better things they soar! Haven't you heard? Theology students are in high-demand!

You might expect that I now have run of the basement. I do, sort of. Insomuch that a new guy has moved in but I never see him. I've never seen him, to tell the truth. The first I heard of him was a note that the landlord left for the three people leaving telling them to clean up for the new tenant's benefit. The only other mark he's left has been a pair of pristine white Champion tennis shoes that have taken up residence on the doormat.

When I came home last Tuesday I asked N(h)ial* if he had met the new guy yet. N(h)ial then responded, "Oh, new guy? No, I have not! I thought it was a woman at first because those shoes on the mat are so very small." I glanced at the shoes the next morning while I was putting on my own and noticed that the new tenant's shoes were a size 8. So yeah, I guess if you're from N(h)ial's culture, size 8 feet are considered feminine. Hopefully that didn't emasculate any of you. Or masculate, as the case may be.

The last time I managed to hang out with all of the old roommates before they went off to join Captain Planet's Planeteers was last Thursday. One of the previous roommates, who left before I came, was visiting and we gathered around the kitchen table to have a chat. So there we all were, two spitfires from Sudan, a feisty First Nations fellow, a muscular Venezuelan and a rather dopey and dumpy Germanic mixed breed. I guess that's one of the "liberal wet dreams" isn't it? At least, that's a dream they accuse "liberals" of having. You know, where a big group of people of different races hang out together and make with the chitty-chat. Although it wasn't quite as perfect as the model of that dream, where at least half of us would be GBLTQ. And I guess it wouldn't hurt to have some women in there, either.

But all that matters is that in that a group of people with vastly different racial backgrounds got together and made the important decision to have some decaffeinated coffee. And each person got to have sweetener to their likening. Or in my case not have any coffee!

...there was supposed to be a metaphor here, but you know, f**k it. Have a good weekend!

*Not one hundred percent sure about the spelling.

The Scruntiest Girl I Have Ever Seen

2008-04-17T14:20:00.000-07:00

I'm in the midst of cataloguing Lady in the Water, that M. Nighty-Night Shyamalan flick that came out a couple of years ago. From the sounds of it a lot of people didn't bother to go see that movie, so I feel obliged to point an important detail that several of you never got to witness. The monsters are called scrunts. Scrunts! I realize the movie might have sucked but I now have a new favorite word. What do you think of that, you scrunty b****es?

Then again, the MSN Encarta dictionary lists it as an intransitive verb from the Caribbean meaning "financially strapped: to be in a poor financial situation". I don't know, if you walked up to somebody and said "I've been scrunting hardcore lately!" the last thing that would come to his or her mind would be your financial situation. He or she might even try to give you a high five. Actually, the person might be more likely to just give you the thumbs-up. With a word like scrunt who knows where your hand has been?

Before I drag this post further into the toilet I'd like to announce that Rolf's Groceries has a brand new soft ice cream machine. It comes with that whole Flavor Burst system that nobody ever really cares about, but at least the option is open for you to add some pretty gross Creme de Menthe or German Chocolate syrup to your soft ice cream. (I think those flavours were imported.) On the back of the machine there was a sticker saying that the date inspected was 1967. That seemed pretty bad until I saw it said 19 G 7. I think that might be better. I'm not sure. Seems pretty scrunty, if you ask me.

SCRUNT SCRUNT SCRUNT SCRUNT SCRUNT

1 2 Scrunt 4, tell me that you scrunt me more

There, I hope that I've got that out of my system. Seeing as everybody else got it out of their system two years ago. By the way, have you heard of that show Lost? It's supposed to be REALLY good!

Cataloguing for Fun and... Just Fun, Really

2008-04-16T14:04:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my first cataloguing tutorial! I hope you'll have as much fun reading it as I will writing it. Although I suppose I'm getting a bit ahead of myself here. Who knows if I'm going to have fun writing this? I might get really annoyed and bored and think this is stupid then go off and have a sandwich halfway through because I hate it so much. In that case I hope you'll have more fun reading it than I did writing it. But feel free to have a sandwich, no matter your enjoyment of today's piece.

Right on! Today we'll be going over illustrations. Now, if you're like me before I went to library school, you probably aren't aware that there are books that don't have pretty pictures in them. So as a matter of course, a good record should mention whether or not there are illustrations. You know, just so somebody doesn't take out a copy of War and Peace and suffer heart failure when faced with reams of text without helpful, friendly pictures of ducks, puppies, and walruses. (Walrii?) If the book is illustrated, we enter this into the physical description tag:

ill.

Now, this doesn't mean that we think the book is off the hook or dope or fly or anything like that. No, this is just an abbreviation for the word "illustration". It's okay, I'm here to help you through this, so please stop breathing heavily. Unless you just went for a fun run. Then it's all right.

But wait, now we have to mention whether the illustrations are in colour. If they are, we do this:

col. ill.

But if only some are, we do this:

ill (some col.)

There are some books where most of the illustrations are in colour, and there's only a few in black and white. Then we do this:

ill (chiefly col.)

Now! The caveat with this is that we have to use this even if the book has only one black and white illustration while the rest are in colour. Which means that we have to look at every illustration in the book. (In theory.)

Things get stickier when graphic novels enter the picture. Because they are chiefly pictures with word balloons, we describe them thusly:

chiefly ill. with captions

Ah! But a particular graphic novel has only colour illustrations! What would the description be, I wonder? Can you figure it out? Oh, who am I kidding, like you're going to f***ing bother. You're already scrolling down, aren't you? That's fine, I'll just writing text up here while you're lollygagging about down there. Are you having fun? How's the view?

chiefly col. ill. with captions

Then again, with most graphic novels, there's usually a panel in black and white, usually to demonstrate an intense emotional moment. Like when the character is trying to take a dump when he or she is constipated. Happens in manga* all the time. Why do you think the kids love it so much? In that case, we...

*sigh*

chiefly ill. (chiefly col.) with captions

I don't know about you, but seeing that just about makes we want to bash my head in with my barcode reader and shower my eyes with Goo-Gone cleaner while that Dragonette song plays in the background.

*Warning: This might be an unrepentant, boldfaced lie.

If I Had a Hammerer

2008-04-15T14:16:00.000-07:00

Last weekend my mother insisted that I help her install some lattice work on the side of her deck. Should I tell you the reason why she wanted the lattice installed? Should I? It's really kind of embarassing, so on second thought... I will. She wants it there so she can sunbathe in the nude and not have people driving by seeing her.

You can always count on me for tact, discretion, and above all else, dignity.

So there I was, holding some low-grade lattice work against a guard railing, watching my mother hammer in nails below.

Joel: I've always wondered why they call it a hammer. It doesn't really ham, does it? Never seen it do anything remotely close to hamming. I guess it does hammer, but following standard naming coventions it should be called a hammerER, shouldn't it?

Mumsy: *distant grunt*

Joel: Although I suppose if you hit your finger it would turn into ham. Then it could be aptly called a hammer. Say, do you think they call them nails because back in the day they would use fingernails to attach items together?

Mumsy: *distant grunt*

She hammered in a nail, which missed the post by a hair.

Mumsy: I missed the post, didn't I?

Joel: Yep, you did. But it's so close to the post there's no chance anybody could run into it. They'd really have to do some planning in order to run into it, you know. They'd have to have a good night's sleep, do some stretches, and really psyche themselves up for it. Then run slow-motion while the Chariots of Fire theme plays in the background. That's probably the only way it could happen.

Mumsy:... did you just hit your head or something?

At this time, I would like to point out that I am available to help with your household projects at very reasonable rates! Look me up, I'm in the book. The DSM-IV, that is. Toodles!

Birthday Party

2008-04-14T14:06:00.001-07:00

Well hello there, friends, family, and acquaintances! I'd like to wish my grandparents a happy birthday today. You see, due to some outrageous coincidence (or divinely-orchestrated turn, depending on your view) the two of them share the same birthday. I've always wondered what that would have been like early in the relationship.

I mean, the typical way things are done is that whoever has the birthday gets doted on for the day. Did they just dote on each other? Because I could see that getting really annoying after the first thirty minutes. It's hard to cook a really good birthday meal if somebody else is in the kitchen trying to cook a different one at the same time. And there wouldn't be any surprises. It's like, "Oh. I see you're cooking my favorite omelette. Well, here's some of your favorite potatoes."

What about friends and acquaintances that forgot they have the same birthday and only said happy birthday to one of my grandparents when they went out? That could be sort of awkward. I don't think anyone could really get over that.

And the disparity of gifts would be really glaring, too, if they weren't of the same quality. "Oh wow, thanks for another tie. I hope you like that gold ring I got you." Oh well, at least there was absolutely no excuse for Grandpa forgetting Grandma's birthday. I think.

Anyways, happy birthday to Eva and Olav/Ollie Nielsen!

P.S. And notice how in the spirit of their birthday, I didn't swear once! Grandma told me that she read my notes on Facebook the last time I visited, and I was sort of mortified. Then for some reason I started to get even naughtier in my posts. Not that one thing has anything to do with the other, but there's definitely a chronological order there. Yup.

Friday's Fresh Flower Potpourri

2008-04-11T14:03:00.000-07:00

I'm sure all of you are still on the edge of your seats concerning the baffling mystery of the missing bed. Well, after finally getting the chance to consult with my roommates last night, I found out the terrible tingling truth. One fellow, assuming the bed to have been abandoned by a former roommate, offered it to a friend of his family when one of her boys needed a new bed. After finding out the stink made on Tuesday night, he figured out it might not be a good idea to give away things that don't expressly belong to oneself, and the bed is currently on its way back.

Should be nice and tidy ending, right? Well, before finding out all the facts, the landlord decided that the disappearance of the bed was a ingenious heist concocted by two other roommates leaving at the end of the month, and she launched an entire milk-truck's worth of shit on their heads. Needless to say she hasn't been coming down much in the past couple of days due to mortification after finding out the truth. There's a lesson here, folks! Unfortunately, I'm not an episode of G.I. Joe, so I'm not going to spell it out for you.

I wish I was an episode of G.I. Joe though.

Now! I don't like to plug stuff in my posts, because as I've stated before, people tend to just nod their heads at my recommendations, go about their lives, then finally go check my recommendation out when somebody cooler and sexier makes the same recommendation. (I'm not lying here or exaggerating for comedic effect. Even my mother does the same damn thing.) But I feel like I must today!

I'd been hearing a lot about this show called Flight of the Conchords lately. It's a comedy about a couple of folk singers from New Zealand trying to make it big in the NYC scene. Normally I wouldn't pay much mind to something like this, because I find most "comedic" musical groups to be a bunch of smug dipshits who are too much in love with their "clever" wordplay. But Flight of the Conchords? Damn, they've managed to pull it off. And how! Seriously, I've almost cried from laughing so hard, and nothing has done that to me for a good long time. So, yeah, if you're as f***ing bored/tired/sick with Family Guy and all of it's demon offspring as I am, give this a shot.

Or give it a shot two months later when someone cool and sexy tells you to go watch the show. What do I care? In the meantime, here's a clip.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kHOSEcmZvG8

Fit for a Dog

2008-04-10T14:08:00.001-07:00

I can't express enough the joy that bursts through my heart when Rolf receives new "professional" literature in the store. Be it a convenience store trade magazine or a brochure for new product, there's a lot of snicker-worthy information to be found. For example, did you know that cigarette advertising is still allowed in trade magazines? Gosh, it takes me back to the days when magazines were chocked full of ads urging us to "take a ride on the flavour express!" Or that we'd be as awesome as a camel dressed in Armani hangin' at a nightclub. Still don't understand that one.

Anyways, a brochure for new food service equipment arrived yesterday. Let's see what we can find!

Rotisseries!!!

"No other single home meal replacement entree has caught on and stayed on quite like rotisserie-roasted chicken." Can't argue with that! "Load after load of tender, golden roasted birds basting in their own juices as turn slowly past the customers' eyes..."

Oh, and did you know that 45% of females state that chicken is their favorite meat? No word on what men think. Although I can probably figure out what men would say is the favorite meat of the other 55% of females. Not me though. I'm not that crude. I like to keep things classy. Sometimes.

Shakes!!!

Here's a happy quote from a satisfied customer.

"We also added a Taylor 5454 automatic shake machine. it has maintained the quality and consistency of our shakes over the years. Our staff loves the machine because it speeds up service and shakes are so easy to make."

Guess what, poindexter? No, they don't! They hate the goddamn stupid thing and they think you're a hemmerhoid-laced asshole for bringing it in in the first place! All dairy machines are a TREMENDOUS pain in the ass to maintain. Although to be perfectly honest, there probably isn't an ounce of dairy in milkshakes. Whatever, all those pressurized freezing machines that use milk protein are a pain in the ass to maintain.

Slush!!!

Yeah, it's a mixture of syrup, CO2, and water. Also, ask about their Slush Xtreme Cream!

Sigh...

The Baffling Mystery of the Missing Bed

2008-04-09T14:53:00.001-07:00

A couple of the rooms of the basement I live in are vacant at the moment, barring the bare furniture inside. Whether these furnishings were provided by the landlords or just left behind by previous tenants is unknown. Typically these rooms have their doors shut, but when I came home on Sunday night*, both of their doors were wide open. I glanced in the room that's beside mine and stared at the old bed I used to sit beside on free nights while I played Grand Theft Auto III with the roommate who eventually ran off to Red Deer to nest with his girlfriend. Stupid unfaithful gaming partners.

After a busy Monday working both jobs (and suffering a huge energy crash about 9 p.m!) I resolved to spend my Tuesday racking up my achievement score on Crackdown for the XBox 360. As the prices of games rise, so too does the desire to wring every last bit of fun out of the stupid things. I was interrupted about two hours in by the landlord, who asked me to move my car so he could back a cargo trailer into the driveway. I did so, and when I went downstairs I glanced in the room besides mine again. This time, there was no bed. I put two and two together and figured they were moving some furniture, including that bed, using the cargo trailer. Little did I know that like always, my math was fundamentally flawed.

Some time later, the other landlord came down doing her obnoxious "Helloooo? Is anybody here?" bit. Not hearing anybody else chime in, I went out to see what she had to say. It turned out she was looking for one of the roommates. I was about to go back to my game when she caught a glimpse of the now-bedless neighboring room. "What?! Joel, did you know what happened to the bed?" I shrugged, and went back into my room to finish an ungodly difficult road race.

As the sun started to go down, I heard a wee little knock on my bedroom door. I opened it, and as expected, there was my landlord standing there, more agitated than usual.

"So you have no idea what happened to the bed? You didn't hear it being moved? You didn't hear anything at all?"
"No..."
One of my roommates, shirtless for some reason, came over.
"You weren't here on Saturday or Sunday, Joel?" he asked.
She replied before I could get the chance."Of course he wasn't, he's never here on weekends!"

They walked away, and I figured it was a good time to take a bathroom break.

So what the hell happened? Did some scandalous rouge... rogue break in and steal what was probably the least valuable object in the entire place? Did it actually belong to the old roommate, and having found a use for the bed, did he come back and take it after bamboozling someone to let him in? Was a roommate feeling generous, and taking pity on someone less fortunate, decide to give away something that wasn't his?

I just don't know! Where's a plucky old lady who likes to knit/bake/make gourdcraft and solve mysteries when you need her? I tell you what, I tried wearing an ascot and hanging out with a stoner and his Great Dane, but I'm no closer to solving this mystery than from where I started.

*As a side note, I originally wrote "when I came on Sunday night". Umm... with so many jokes to pick from, who could pick just one?

I'm the Pope of Lazytown

2008-04-08T11:36:00.000-07:00

Three Names you go by:
1. Joel
2. Hey Buddy
3. Joely Woely - many people from many different backgrounds have called me this, each thinking that they're original.

Three Parts of Your Heritage:
1. Dutch
2. Danish
3. German. I'm from 100% earthy Germanic stock.

Three Things That Scare You:
1. Isolation
2. Women
3. Being asked this question

Three of Your Everyday Essentials:
1. Showering
2. Handheld musical device, be it an iPod or a harmonica
3. Doing naked spread eagles in front of a window facing a busy street

Three Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1. Charcoal Grey Dress Shirt
2. Grey T-shirt with Passionate written on it.
3. Pants... for once.

Three of Your Favorite Songs Right Now:
1. Epiphany -- Sweeney Todd
2. A Well-Respected Man -- The Kinks
3. Outside -- Tribe

Three Things You Want in a Relationship:
1. Food
2. Food
3. Food

Two Truths and a Lie (in any order):
1. I f***ing hate vampires.
2. I f***ing hate wizards.
3. I f***ing hate witches.

Three PHYSICAL Things about the Opposite Sex that Appeal to You:
1. Dorkiness
2. Smile
3. State of mind

Three of Your Favorite Hobbies:
1. Studying languages
2. Gamin'
3. Staring pathetically at my keyboard

Three Things You want to do really badly right now:
1. Go to Italy
2. Have a night out with a group of good people
3. Sleep

Three Places You Want to go:
1. Italy
2. California
3. Netherlands

Three Things You Want to Do Before You Die:
1. Have a well-paying job with high demand globally.
2. Get a group of people together and sing the Carmen Sandiego theme song at an open mic.
3. Have some more smooches.

Three Ways that you are stereotypically a Girl/Guy:
1. I rolled my eyes when I read the question
2. I flex mightily and often. Mighty often.
3. I wear a jockstrap all the time and thrust my groin while grunting and smashing beercans against my chiseled forehead.

Three people I would like to see take this quiz:
1.
2.
3.

...sigh. Anybody, really.

Three Things you are currently avoiding/dreading doing:
1. Writing another well-written post that I'm proud of
2. Life
3. The second half of my work day.

Three Pet Peeves:
1. Dealing with assholes in a hurry on the road
2. Failing to look at the big picture.
3. Useless, unnecessary drama caused by bored people subconsciously looking to justify their pathetic existence.

In the Year 2000

2008-04-07T14:08:00.001-07:00

One day I'm going to buy a bunch of postcards and rub them on my butt. Then I'm going to send them to people I know, and when they flip the postcards over the message on the back will read "You're touching my butt."

Just you wait.

Just you wait, Henry Higgins, just you wait.

Piece of Mind

2008-04-04T14:12:00.000-07:00

So yesterday, after I had finished writing my controversial piece on Vampirates -- relatively controversial, at least -- I left to go grab some lunch. Imagine my surprise when I approached my vehicle and found a single piece of Reese's Pieces (or would that just be a Reese's Piece?) resting comfortably on the door handle. Since rudimentary physics dictate the impossibility of the Reese's Piece being tossed blindly and ending up in that location, the only obvious answer to the question of how the candy ended up on my door handle would be that it was placed there by somebody walking on the trail a few metres from my car.

But who would it would have been? I think it was E.T., myself. You know, he was stopping by for a visit, maybe pick up a few more roses for his garden, and he thought, hell, let's indulge in some of my old vices for old times sake! So, he downed a couple of brews, started smoking a few cigars, and happened to be waddling by my car.

What the hell was that kid's name from the movie? The one who rolled with E.T. and developed an empathic connection with him? Elliot? Yeah, that guy woke up in whatever alleyway he's sleeping in and started boxing the air, pissing all over himself, and bawling while shouting "DREW BARRYMORE!" Of course, that's his normal behavior so nobody raised an eyebrow.

Back to E.T! Clearly, he was falling down drunk by this point so he was all "PHOOOOOOOONNNEEE HOOOOOOOOOMEEE" and did a drunken tumble into the passenger door of my car. Feeling bad about this, he used that glowing finger thing he did to fix the dent and left a Reese's Piece on the handle.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

At least it wasn't this guy:

I remember seeing this ad in my comic books as a kid and wondering who the hell this asshole was and what they had done with E.T.

Vampirates

2008-04-03T14:06:00.000-07:00

I like to think of myself as a level-headed individual. Anytime something stressful or intense comes up, I tend to step back from the proceedings and approach the situation logically and rationally. Sage advice, I know! But there are times when I'll see something so soul-wrenching, so nerve-flaying, that even those timeless tips are impotent:

I tell you what, I almost kicked my cubicle walls over, hurled my computer into the row of desks beside me, and smashed through the window in a furious leap after I saw this. Goddamn vampires! You know, not every combination works out as great as a Reese Peanut Butter cup. I wasn't watching Pirates of the Caribbean and thinking, "Wow, it'd be great if some metrosexual douchebag came on the boat and started angstfully out-brooding Will Turner!"

Also, like every idea that turns on clever wordplay, it's been done to death already. Let's see what we have:

A play! It's even heartily endorsed by a troupe member of Cirque du Soleil! Then again, I think even I've been endorsed by one of them at this point, so that doesn't give much cachet.

A webcomic! A manga-style affair with hints of yaoi. Why am I not surprised.

Even a movie! Well, a proposed movie anyway. The last date listed in the news and rumours section is in 1998, and that's when they were approaching Emilio Estevez. Why the hell did he turn a gem like this down? Frankly, Vampirates would be a step up for him at this point.

I guess it's only a matter of time until we see Vampeon, Vampress Secretary, and Vampretzel Vendor. Then every year they'll get together to participate in the Calgary Vampede.

I have to give myself a preemptive Boo for that one...

Apples and Oranges

2008-04-02T14:04:00.000-07:00

Note: Last names of people mentioned have been removed. This is just one of the many details you're missing when you read the post here instead of on the Facebook feed!

A peculiar source of fascination for me is the Compare People application on Facebook. You know, that thing were it shows you two people on your friends list, asks you "Who is more ____?" and you have to be all cold-hearted and judgemental and pick one. Like most applications on Facebook, I was reticent to add it at first, but after all the things the application has told me over the past few months, I'm pretty glad I did. I just can't get enough of those random updates they send to my e-mail. I'm sick of everything else Facebook punts in my direction, but damn if these Compare People updates ain't entertaining.

Like, did you know that I was voted smarter than "Amy"? I don't know who Amy is, but still, it's pretty cool that I'm smarter than her. It could pay off too. I could totally go on Jeopardy in the future and if she's one of the other contestants, I'd know right away that I wouldn't be in last place. I'd just have fun with it, then. Maybe do some of that Sean Connery on Jeopardy stuff they had on Saturday Night Live. Except I would say boobies, not titties. I'm a high class kind of guy.

Also, I'm more famous than "Amber". I have no idea who Amber is either, so I'd say I have to agree with that assessment. That's another thing that could pay off. I could be waiting in line to get into a club and she would walk up to the front and say, "I'm Amber! Let me in!" and I'd be all, "Wait! I'm more famous than her, so I should get in first! Facebook even says so!" and the bouncer would have to agree. I'd still have to wait in line and everything, but at least Amber wouldn't be cutting in front of me.

Every so often the Compare People application will send you a list of your hottest single friends. A friend of mine recently sent me his list and I was on the top of the Most Desirable to Date chart with 25 points. Hell yeah! Then I looked at my list and the top guy on there has 60 points. That's a world of difference. Here's the list that I got:

1. Eric (60 points)
2. Calan (53 points)
3. Duane (27 points)
4. Roger (16 points)
5. Peter (12 points)

The last time I looked I had more points than Duane, too. That's it, Duane's going down. On a woman, because apparently he's more desirable to date than I am.

Yours sincerely,

Joel

I'm Really, Really Sorry

2008-04-01T11:07:00.001-07:00

So...

Do you like to spoon after you fork or before you fork?

Joenan the Barbarian

2008-03-31T14:11:00.000-07:00

The rest is all me, baby

Khitan General: We have won again. This is good! But what is best in life?

Khitan Warrior: The open steppe, a fleet horse, falcons at your wrist, and the wind in your hair.

Khitan General: Wrong! Joenan, what is best in life?

Joenan: To crush your pop cans, see them driven to the bottle depot, and to hear the lamentations of the bottle sorters!

Khitan General: ... Guards, kill this idiot.

Psst! For the uninitiated, it's based on this scene:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V30tyaXv6EI

So now you know!

Joel, Interrupted

2008-03-15T11:32:00.001-07:00

Hey folks, just to let you that there ain't going to be much posting going on over the next couple of days. I've a dentist appointment next Wednesday, but instead of having time off for appointments like one would get with a stable position, I have to work the hours ahead of time. The joys of being on contract. Anyways, my lunch hour is being slashed in half, and there goes the spare time I use to write these posts in. Oh well, it's all going for a good cause. I get to give the dentist money to tell me what's wrong with my teeth, only he won't have the time to fix them that day and I'll have to come in later. Joys!

Anyways, I'm off to go find a quail and shoot it for lunch. See ya next... Thursday? Maybe?

The Ethics of Spring

2008-03-13T15:28:00.001-07:00

Does anyone else think that Spring Fever is better classified as Spring Rage? For some unexplainable reason, as soon as the snow melts, people start getting REALLY tetchy, anxious, and irritable. You'd think people would finally be happy after having to deal with constant snowstorms and -30 weather, but no! Hell, for the most part everybody's really easy to get along with during the winter. I think it might be because the rage they'd usually direct at other people gets directed at the cold.

I myself am not immune to this effect. About a week ago, after I finished my day at the library, I started my commute back to Rocky. A little ways into the journey there's the Gull Lake Section, where the road gets really windy and twisty, the speed limit drops from 100 to 80, and it's pretty much impossible to pass anyone. That particular day I got stuck behind a car going 70, and as is natural behaviour for anybody in that situation, I got really pissed off. After we reached Bentley and the car made a right turn, I found my right foot was getting a bit more weight behind it. I started going much faster than I normally would, but as is usual, I once again found myself behind a slower-moving vehicle. Once again I was irritable, desperate to pass.

It was then I came into a certain understanding. The fact that it was a gorgeous day had something to do with it, I guess, but it was more to the fact that the sooner I got back to Rocky the sooner I'd have to work. What was the point of rushing? Why was I getting so irritated? It was about that time a big truck flew past both of our vehicles, spitting gravel all over the place.

So yeah. It's Spring, people! Although it's damn muddy and wet and gross, it's still some of the nicest weather we'll see all year. Soon it's going to be plus 30, and that's when people are going to get really pissed off.

The Ethics of the Amero

2008-03-12T14:07:00.001-07:00

If I, for one reason or another, were to steal a certain friend's journalism diploma and go off to some podunk to write for the local newspaper, I would go up to the editor on the first day and offer up half of my salary in return for not having to write an editorial. Because after reading the constant sniping, whining, and vicious reprisals that make up the responses to editorials in the letters to the editor, I would want my hands completely clean of that nonsense.

I remember reading a rather bitter but solid editorial about how Valentine's Day is pain in the ass for single people. The next week I read an fairly scathing letter about why someone would dare try to undermine the amazing and touching public expressions of love of happy people, and other self-righteous nonsense. Hey, I'm all for the public expression of love -- especially on my computer monitor after a cold and lonely day -- but seriously! Get over yourself!

Sometimes, though, the letters to the editor will turn up something so batshit insane the letters-to-the-editor section will totally redeem itself. Take one I read a few weeks ago. The letter was chock full of tin-foil hat ramblings about how a North American Union is arising. Much like what happened in Europe, except this is all occuring under the table. And at the end of the day, the entire North American continent will be united under one currency, the Amero. Finally, there will be a level playing field amongst all three countries! A glorious partnership of communal growth that will herald a fantastic new future for all!

Wait, no! That won't happen! What will happen is that both Canada and the United States will be dragged down and stomped by Mexico and the ravaging hordes that lie within. The filthy communists have been biding their time and lying in wait, and soon, they will strike! Soon, two wealthy countries will be knocked back to the Stone Age by ugly foreigners! There will be huge muscular men in bondage gear ransacking our streets, ravishing our women, and stealing our oil! How will we ever cope?

I guess once we get used to the terrible inevitability of being forced to learn Spanish in school we will look back on our pre-Amero days and wonder... why? Why did we ever let it come to pass?

...really, why would we? Beyond the standard academic economic pondering, I see no reason why this would ever happen. I mean, the main mover and shaker here is the United States, obviously. Why would that country ever think this would be a good deal? It's like a poor neigbour swinging by and casually asking If you'd like merge your two households and surprisingly, even though there's absolutely no benefit for you and you'll have to give up a few of your things, you agree. Just for the hell of it, I suppose? Feeling nice? Hmmmm...

I'm nowhere near enlightened on all this. Just seems strange is all. And as odd as it seems, this conspiracy is picking up considerable momentum. I mean, there are anti-North American Union bills being introduced all over the place. Lots of rumbling about the evils of the SSP and what have you. Hooray for middle-class paranoia, eh?

I'd also like to point out that the letter-to-the-editor points out that once this insiduous union is formed we will be issued with a Real ID card with a VChip implanted inside. What, this thing? We won't be able to watch certain television programs anymore? Or maybe they're talking about the VChip from the South Park movie, that punished children with electric shocks for swearing. So they're taking away our ability to curse freely? Those fucking bastards! I mean... foolish twerps!

Also, "committees are already working on all this now." Oh my god in heaven, COMMITTEES? Dear lord! We better all be good or they'll send... send... TASK FORCES after us, too!

Man, this is all so dreadful. Perhaps I should watch the free DVD they offer at the end of the letter and really get myself educated on the situation.

The Ethics of Poverty-Stricken Roommates

2008-03-11T14:04:00.001-07:00

So last Thursday I took a swing into Red Deer after work to pick up a few things, and I returned home to an empty apartment. Well, it's not like it's exactly an apartment... I mean, my roommates and I live in a basement, but it's not really so separate from the main house. There's just the basement door, and it's locked so we don't go upstairs, but the owners can and do come downstairs whenever the hell they want. They just need to give us notice if they want to check out our rooms. So, it's like we have this common area, but only the rooms are ours? I don't know what you would call it. I don't even know if I could have said the house is empty, because for all I know that could have been a lie. There could have been somebody upstairs. I mean...

*Joel slaps himself*

So yeah, none of my roommates were home. Not too surprising really. They're all students at the Adventist college right across the street, and their student desperation is starting to reach critical mass after the heartbreak of midterms and the utter anguish of their upcoming finals.

So in light of the community TV finally being free, I dragged my PS3 out of the backpack I had it stored in after my visit to Calgary the previous weekend, and set about playing some Uncharted. It's nice having a habitable living room again. When I first moved in back in November the entire apartment was a disaster. I resolved to keep my hands clean of the debacle and stick to tidying up after myself and only myself. The situation has since been resolved after the two messiest members of our little community were not-so-kindly told to get the hell out, but my previous habits have remained. There's not one item of food or piece of cutlery in the kitchen that belongs to me and I stick to cleaning the bathroom and sweeping the floors.

Anyways, I plugged in the brand new PS3 that I purchased with the full set of Rock Band for a substantial amount of legal tender, then plopped down on the floor, stomach still full of the overpriced takeout food I usually get. I was wearing some brand new clothes that I had purchased on a trip to Red Deer that I took in my relatively new vehicle.

After I played for half-an-hour the roommates came back from what I believed to be a study session, but instead I heard plastic bags being jostled into the kitchen. Well! They must have gone on a trip for groceries, I thought to myself. I'd taken them to the store a couple of times myself. They typically like to go to the store together.

One of them came into the living room.
"Joel!" he shouted in his thick accent as he came swaggering in with a bag of soy chips in his hands. Already I was a bit puzzled. Soy chips? Who the hell buys those?
"Hey, Nhial. Did you guys just go grocery shopping?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Naw, man. We went to the... how do you say it? We went to the food bank."
I paused. "The food bank? You guys have to go to the food bank?"
"Yeah, we did. Here, have some chips! Did you bring any new movies for us?"
I pointed to the stack in the corner.

Wow. Just, wow. Here I am, some asshole sitting on his ass, doing nothing while people who live in the same house as him are desperately broke. I mean, I work two jobs and all, so that's why I can afford all this crap. But what about them? And I'm not even sure what I should do! Should I help them out? Give them some food? Do I kick in for groceries? Is this just a temporary thing while they're waiting for some money from relatives?

It's hard out here for a pimp.

The Ethics of Guitar Controllers

2008-03-10T14:21:00.000-07:00

So I'm pretty sure all of you have heard about Rock Band and/or Guitar Hero at this point, so I'm not going to add an unnecessary introduction and will instead jump right into the savoury mechanically-separated chicken meat of the issue at hand. If you haven't heard of those two games, by all means go ahead and Wiki them. You can Google them if you want to, but don't blame me if you end up at a page with Peruvian midgets making out with polar bears.

A couple of weekends ago, after finishing the Saturday shift at the store, I played some Rock Band in order to unwind. Since this was early in the morning and folks were trying to sleep I had to limit my choice of instruments to the guitar. However, I am seriously not a fan of the Rock Band guitar. It might not be a dinky Fisher-Price guitar like the one that comes with Guitar Hero, but I despise the strum bar. You see, the strum bar for the GH guitar will give a nice little click for each strum, which is incredibly handy for keeping rhythm. Not only does the RB guitar lack the click, the strum bar also has a lot less "give" than on the GH guitar. Another frustration is that the "Star Power/Overdrive" constantly activates itself if I try to play sitting down.

All of this typically results in me doing a lot more poorly on songs using the RB guitar than I would with the GH guitar. And since I originally started playing RB with the GH guitar (I got tired of waiting for the set and bought the software without all the accompanying instruments) I have a direct comparison for performance and that leads to severe frustration. When you can beat a song with no problems on Expert, then have a devil of a time even passing Hard on the same song using the different guitar? Tears of rage, my friends.

And let me tell you, I was pretty close to crying those tears that night two weeks ago. After almost bombing out on Dead on Arrival by Fall Out Boy, I was beside myself and was sure I had a busted controller. Because obviously, I can never suck at anything. In a fit of grey rage I jumped onto the Electronic Arts website and demanded that they send me a replacement guitar. Well, I filled out some forms in a demanding manner. Knuckles as white as those have never been seen before, and probably never will again.

There are two options for this. One is that they send you a shipping box, you send your broken guitar, then once they receive it they send a replacement. However, if you have a credit card, you can have them send a new one right away, and if you somehow forget to send the broken one to them, they'll ding your card for some obscene amount... somewhere around 150 dollars, if I remember correctly. I don't have a card, so I chose option 1.

Second is the mailing address. Since they use UPS/Purolator, the box can't be sent to a general delivery address. Since I'm using one of those as my main address now, I decided to fill in the address of the store I work at.

Anyways, after I had a good night sleep I hesitantly tried playing Rock Band again and found that sometimes all you need is a little rest to play at your best. Immediately feeling remorse at what I had done, I tried to cancel the impending guitar return I all-too-eagerly orchestrated a scant six hours previous. No quick and easy options presented themselves, so I resolved to just toss out the box when it eventually arrived.

Cut to last Wednesday when amongst the hub-bub of the arrival of the new slush machines a package is shoved in front of my face. Hooray? It's arrived. I pick it up to put it to the side when I notice it has a hell of a lot more weight than it should have. I open the box to find a replacement guitar inside.

Now this is one heck of a situation. You see, Electronic Arts has neither my real address nor my credit card number. If I so desired, I could probably keep it and nobody could really do much of anything. I'm kind of surprised they did this! I mean, that's some serious temptation right there. At least, it would be if I liked the RB guitar and I had someone to actually use the second guitar with me. Oh well. At the end of the day I have enough bad karma, so I'm just going to stick the new one unopened back in the box with a little note saying the other guitar isn't having problems anymore.

I'm still surprised at the amount of people who are telling me to keep the guitar, though, and that Electronic Arts deserves it for screwing up. That's a big ol' boo for being honest, I guess. And so the world turns ever onward.

Classic: The Ballad of Lancelot and Guinevere

2008-03-09T12:37:00.000-07:00

Hey, folks. I found the archive of my old blog, and I found an old post I'd like to share. This was written in December of 2004.

Hey! It's December 21st! And you know what that means! No, not 4 days till Christmas, you twits. It's Gather Round Ye Beautiful Gentlemen And Dashing Gentlewomen, Come And Listen As Joel Recounts A Tale Of Arthurian Legend That You Probably Don't Know But Just Might Like To Hear About Because It's Rather Seamy In Nature And If There's One Thing I've Learned It's That The Readers Of My Blog Are A Bunch Of Perverts So The Mild Titillation Contained Within Should Make Them Happy For Fifteen Minutes Until They Go Back To Smearing Their Genitals In Peanut Butter And Rubbing Up Against The Window Day!

Well, I guess I can't blame you for not not hearing about it, seeing as this is the first of what I hope is going to be a long-running and grand tradition. All Hail G R Y B G A D G C A L A J R A T O A L T Y P D K B J M L T H A B I R S I N A I T O T I L I T T R O M B A A B O P S T M T C W S M T H F F M U T G B T S T G I P B A R U A T W Day! Just 'cause I'm feelin' sassy. So let me just get comfortable on the Siege Perilous here and we can get under way with the first G R Y B G A... oh, fuck it.

This ribald tale contains those wacky lovebirds, Lancelot and Guinevere. Now, as you can imagine, Lancelot was one big studly hunk o' man and as such had women everywhere fawning all over him. But ol' Lancelot was as faithful as they come, and didn't dream of straying from his true love Guinevere. Naturally, this broke the hearts of all those groupies. However, one of them wasn't gonna sit idly by and let Guinny hog all the French Knight Love Juice. It was time to get proactive. Her handmaiden/governess/what the fuck ever hatched a plan where she would use her skills in magic to cast a glamour on the girl, so Lancelot would think that the girl was Guinevere. It wasn't a very powerful glamour, mind you, but it was good enough to get him in the sack.

I take a small break here to point out that King Arthur's not as wise as he's made out to be. After all, people from far away lands knew that one of his knights was boning his wife. What the hell's his excuse? Too busy chasing Gawain around the throne room and giggling?

Back to the story! During a rather boisterous party, the girl watches as Lancelot and Guinevere make plans to go sailing on the Lancelot pleasure cruise. Immediately afterwards, she sends her woman-at-arms over to tell Lancelot about the queen's decision to change rooms. Lancelot doesn't give a shit either way, because he knows he's getting lucky tonight.

He makes his way to what he believes to be the queen's room, girding his loins for love all the while. He enters with a manly swagger, grasps his long, hard... sword, and puts it to the side. He strips off his pants and crawls into bed to ravish "Guinevere". Meanwhile, the real Guinevere is a few doors down getting antsy. It''s taking longer than she expected for Lancelot to get his ass in there and start pleasuring her. What''s Arthur doing during all this? Well, he's probably off floggin' the dolphin somewhere.

But soon, the Queen can hear grunts and groans and gasps. Because she's a big pervert, she decides to go check it out. She swings open the door of the room, shines her torch in, and finds her beloved Lancelot on top of another woman. Oh, shit. Amidst the screams, bellows, and general noises of rage, the hapless fellow leaps out of bed and tries to explain to Guinevere that he thought he was making love to her. This doesn't help matters. Arthur must have really been into whatever he was doing to not hear all that screaming. It all ends when the queen forbids Lancelot from ever seeing her again. As most men are wont to do in situations like this, Lancelot gives a manly screech and grabs his sword, then leaps out the window. And thus begins the saga of Pantsless Lancelot, running throughout the woods with nothing to hide his shame. The pantsless man sprinted through the underbrush, attacking everyone he encountered for over a year. Amen.

God, so many parallels to my life.

BookTalk: Purplicious

2008-03-07T14:12:00.002-08:00

Due to a lack of sufficient will on my part, the Joel Nielsen Book Club will be disbanded until further notice. The entire group budget was blown on the necessary supply of Depends for our members, who are now each reduced to a chattering shell of the person they were before. And after two books, even! Not even Oprah could pull that off. But as a parting gift for the rest of you, I have a surprise taped under all of your chairs! Go! Go take a look now!

*Joel whistles and twiddles his thumbs*

Oh, good, you're back. What's that? Nothing there? Hey man, don't blame it on me. Blame it on the rain.You know, the one that keeps fallin', fallin'. Or blame it on the drain, depending on which version you cared more for.

Purplicious

This is a sequel to a book called Pinkalicious, in which a deranged young girl carries her dangerous obsession with the colour pink to degrees beyond the realm of human sanity. Well, her skin turns pink. That's pretty damn insane... I guess. The book was later turned into a musical, which apparently "premiered in New York City to sold-out audiences". The mind boggles.

Anyways, the pink girl is back, but she's now facing the slings and arrows of the crowd as all of her classmates have turned goth. Yes, those evil hateful black-swaddled sons-of-bitches! Where's your individuality now, huh? Where's your individuality now?

"Black is in," said Beatrice during recess.
"Pink is putrid," announced Pauline while dangling from the monkey bars.
"Yeah, pink stinks!" added Sophia.

Well, that last one entirely depends on... oh, dear lord, I am NOT going to go there.

On the bus ride home, no one would sit with me.
"Pink is for babies and little girls. We aren't going to be friends with a baaaby," taunted Tiffany.
"You don't have to be a baby or a little girl to like the color pink. Pink is for everyone," I said. "Even my brother likes pink."
"How funny! A boy who likes pink?!" Everyone on the bus laughed.

Oh HELL no! That's just cruel! I know sometimes when you're about to go under, you start clawing at everyone and everything to stay afloat, but damn! Her poor brother is never going to hear the end of it.

Anyways, the pink girl starts to go off the deep end and decides to renounce her once-favorite colour. Her parents cart her off to the ice cream store and ask, "Pinkalicious, what would you like? Pink Passion Fruit Paradise?"

*Joel stares at the page bewilderedly*

Yes, it turns out the girl's name is Pinkalicious. Damn hippie parents. Of course, the kid is over pink at this point and asks for some vanilla instead.

"How about you, Peter? Would you like your usual, Plum Pink Perfection?"
"Yes! Yes, thank you!" said Peter.
"You're such a baby, Peter. Pink ice cream is for sissies!" I said.

Way to hammer the point home, kid! I guess we can make another entry to the giant list of ways to turn family members into confused serial killers.

Well, my lunch break is almost over, so I better be brief. Ex-Pink Girl runs into Purple Girl and they become friends. Which finally justifies the title, seeing as there's nothing purple in the first 9/10ths of the story.

What did we learn today?

1. Goth people are jerks.
2. Don't give your brother sexual identity issues.
3. French books are a pain in the ass to catalogue.

...well, that last one I learned in escapades unrelated to the text, but I figured I'd relate it anyway. See ya next week!

Everything's Coming Up FCBs!

2008-03-06T15:25:00.000-08:00

Well, I can't believe it. The wait has been arduous -- and at some points, utterly baffling -- but after nine months of gnashing of teeth and rending of clothes by its customer base, Rolf's Groceries finally has working slush machines again. Eight splendored tumblers full of frozen flavoured carbonated sugar water, all humming in glorious unison... why, that harmony outdoes the cheeriest group of bluebirds one could ever hope to see.

(Pssst... the industry term for a slush is an FCB, or a frozen carbonated beverage! So now you know!)

I still remember the halcyon days when I started at the store, when I first saw the sight of 8 slush tumblers all working at once. I never knew it would take almost seven years for me to see it again. You see, after a little while one went down. Then another. Then another! We tried getting them fixed, but they conked out again a month or two down the line. Pretty soon we were down to two tumblers, and that's the way it stayed for a good long time. Why? Don't ask why. Seriously, I kept wondering why and blood almost started shooting from my ears from the absurdity of it all.

Sometime last year the final two tumblers wheezed their last. Right at the beginning of the summer season. Every time I try to focus on that period and remember details about it, I get a glazed, hollow stare and think nothing but the colour gray for ten minutes. So perhaps I'll just move on.

I asked the boss if he wanted to make the new signs for the machine or if I should go ahead and do it. He paused, then said "Yeah, I think I'd better make them myself." Sheesh, the man has serious trust issues! Just because I put signs in the window last summer that said "Rolf Is Your Friend", "Rolf Loves You!" and "Rolf Thinks You Look Good in That Shirt!" Or when I changed the ice cream sign so that Rolo became "Rolf's Rolo" and from that point on people kept asking him what made his Rolo so special.

Later on that evening, two of the tumblers stopped freezing properly.

*sigh*

Welcome to your new home, slush machines. You seem to fit in just fine.

Signed and Dated

2008-03-05T14:10:00.001-08:00

A few weeks ago I gave up dialing random numbers on bathroom walls and decided to instead add that exciting Zoosk dating application to my Facebook profile. I immediately received a welcome message from an improbably hot woman from Barbados, so I took that as a good sign. How often is it that you get random, impersonal, barely-qualify-as-English messages from women inviting you to "have fun" on the Internet? I know I sure don't. All I get are random, impersonal, barely-qualify-as-English messages from men asking if I want stock tips or cheap prescription drugs. Damn, I'm old.

It turns out this thing really cuts to the chase. It'll show a picture alongside some stats and perhaps a little blurb if the person was imaginative enough to write one. Then it'll give three options: Wink, Flirt, or Next. That's pretty harsh! It's either pillow-talk or a boot to the ass. Maybe they should put a Friends or Handshake button in there at least.

And what's the difference between Wink or Flirt, anyway? Aren't they the same thing? Flirting, a rather free-form art which a lot of people say is the most fun part, has been reduced to the click of a button. I wish I had that button in real life. My flirting's so bad that I probably could barely flirt with a recidivist nun after she watched a Chippendales act.

So I've been on there for two weeks, and so far, only one person has flirted with me. Which I guess when you translate Zoosk-speak to real-life means she walked over and said in a booming, robotic voice "I AM FLIRTING WITH YOU". Normally I would feel bad about this but considering that I basically have no information posted up and my picture is the same as my Facebook profile, that's a pretty decent showing. Still, I guess a painting of a Dutch man after taking a swig of something nasty ain't doing it. (Pssst! It's called the Bitter Tonic and it's by Adriaen Brouwer, and it's from the early 1600s! So now you know!)

Lately, I've been receiving messages about how I can now mark down who my "Most Eligible Single Friends" are. I was marked down as one, too, and that's pretty exciting! Well, it was until I saw the list of my friends who received the title as well and found out that a lot of the people on there aren't exactly single. One of them is even happily married with three daughters! I wonder if he knows he's actually both eligible and single? Or at least somebody he knows thinks he is.

I guess it might be time to start searching the bathroom wall again.

Great Teacher or Greatest Teacher?

2008-03-04T14:03:00.000-08:00

I crossed paths with this book today:

I expect to be fluent by next week.

Mythology, Cakes, and Male Perversion

2008-02-29T14:04:00.000-08:00

Some books that came across my desk today:

100 Characters from Classical Mythology

Sweet Christmas, how many kids did Odysseus sire during the Odyssey? Seriously!

Odysseus: I really need to get back home to my wife!
Random Woman: Hey, hang out and have sex with me for a few years.
Odysseus: *sigh* I guess I have no choice.

Meanwhile, his wife Penelope is fighting off suitors left and right while he's getting it on with every woman he crosses paths with. I don't imagine that ever came up when he made it back to her. Then again, I guess he was too busy kicking ass. The study of the Odyssey we did in junior high never included what happened he finally made it back to Ithaca, and after I read the Odyssey myself a few years back, I see that there was a very good reason for that. Puts any Charles Bronson or Dirty Harry movie to shame, really.

Kids' Birthday Cakes

These are some of the most whacked-out/ornate birthday cakes I have ever seen. And what's the point? A cake is made to be eaten, and as long as it tastes good, who cares if it's shaped like a kite or decorated to look like a hedgehog? Oh right, I keep forgetting that it's a sign that mothers don't love their children enough if the cake comes from Safeway. Sigh.

I still remember flipping through my mother's recipe books and asking her why she didn't make any of the really cool stuff. She'd always get grumpy for the rest of the day and it took me a long time to figure out why. 'Course, after I did, I kept asking why just to mess with her.

I'm really surprised I didn't end up waking up in a ditch one morning with tires squealing off into the distance.

Venus in Blue Jeans : Why Mothers & Daughters Need to Talk About Sex

For cataloging purposes, I have to check if books contain an index. I flipped to the back of the book, and this entry immediately jumped out at me.

War images for male masturbation

So! Um... like, using that for... material? Is that what they're talking about here? I flipped to the page and found out they were just talking about combat metaphors being used a lot to describe... male Onanistic behaviour. Meanwhile, women ended up with cooking and nautical terms.

[very uncomfortable silence]

Yeah, that seems like a good place to stop for the day. See ya next week!

What's in a Name?

2008-02-28T14:07:00.000-08:00

I catalogued a series of children's books yesterday called Magic Castle Readers. They're about twenty years old at this point, which is depressing because I was older than the target audience when the books were first released. You get a lot of that when you're cataloguing all of the old books libraries send in because their patrons wanted to get rid of them and couldn't get any money for them off eBay. It's a constant trip down memory lane, except now Memory Lane's full of crack dealers and prostitutes.
I noticed that a lot of the books in this Magic Castle series were illustrated by a very unfortunate person. Not in the sense of unfortunate meaning she was a bad illustrator; indeed, many of her drawings were well-suited to the intended audience. It's that her name was Linda Hohag.

How does a surname like that exist? How? What kind of cruel God would let a name like that tumble down through the ages? You know, if that was my last name, there's no way I'd have ended up doing cutesy-type drawings for children's books. I'd probably be the meanest son-of-a-bitch who ever lived. I'd be mainlining heroin into my eyeball. I'd be punching presidents and pissing on preachers, that's how damn angry I'd be. And yet, here's Linda Hohag, giving the world some of the most saccharine drawings that have ever been committed to paper. I mean, look at them! Those are her pictures scattered around this note.
To have such a cosmic burden and still be able to draw stuff like that? That takes a special kind of mental illness, my friends. A mental illness beyond the likes of which modern medicine can cope.

After that, I looked at a book titled Thank You, Mr. Falker. It's a sweet story about a teacher who helps his student overcome a learning disability. I was reading it and was trying to focus on how I'd like to help somebody like that someday, too. But could I keep my concentration? No Falking way.

...I think you can figure out why.

No Backlash for Old Men

2008-02-27T14:10:00.000-08:00

First, No Country for Old Men. Best Picture of the year, according to the Academy! Overrated piece of crap, according to the audience I saw it with.

First off, you might want to hold off on seeing this movie until you can watch it at home by yourself or with some trusted friends. Because the movie contains lots of silent, tension-filled stretches, and believe me, those scenes are a whole lot less effective when you're surrounded by a bunch of fidgety cattle chewing their popcorn cuds.

Second, by all appearances the movie looks like an effective cat-and-mouse thriller. And it is! For the first part of the movie, at least. Then the narrative suddenly veers off into another direction, one that's dense with the metaphors and symbols that were in the background before. Most people will be content to be pulled along during the first half of the movie -- like I was -- then be shocked when the movie starts asking questions of them. It's sort of like having a fun day out water-skiing when suddenly the driver cuts the cord and tells you to swim back to shore.

Because of this, I could barely make my way out of the theatre due to the buttery fog of ill-will hanging in the air. My final thought about There Will Be Blood goes double for this movie: Be prepared when this comes out on DVD, because you're going to be pummeled by the constant stream of opinions telling you how bad it is.

Boned

2008-02-27T14:05:00.000-08:00

So the boss was in the store putting up Easter and St. Patrick's Day decorations last night. I swear, you probably haven't seen so many leprechauns and rabbits in one place in your entire life. Also, he put scattered a bunch of St. Patrick's Day coins around inside our counter/display case, so it looks like an Irish pirate just got really dazed and confused and said, "You know what? I'm just putting my treasure here. Now to listen to the Pogues and drink Guinness on Regina's mighty shores! Arrrrrgh and Begorrah!"

The boss was hanging up some banners in the window and lamenting on how we didn't get enough stock from one of our suppliers this week. I just nodded along while rearranging the chocolate bar racks. All of a sudden, he said, "I got a boner in Edmonton."

I look up.

Joel: Really? You got a boner in Edmonton?
Rolf: NO! I said I've got to PHONE HER in Edmonton the next time I'm down.

He walked into the stock section of the store.

Joel: Well, you know, Edmonton's a big place. Lots of people get boners there.
Rolf: *grumble* Joel, that's TMI.
Joel: What? What's so TMI about that? It's not like I'm talking about myself. Although I did live there for close to sixteen months, so it's not unconceivable that I got one myself! Hell, I probably had...

I was cut off when he walked into the cooler and slammed the door.

Ten minutes later, after he had finished restocking, he came back out.

Joel: So, did you get your boner just because you liked being in Edmonton so much, or was it...

He turned around and went back into the cooler.

Not That There's Anything Wrong With That

2008-02-25T14:06:00.001-08:00

I used to run a blog with my friend Dane. A lot of the time we'd just gripe at each other, or Dane would go out drinking and then complain about something. Few who read it could ever forget about his infamous stripper rant. Anyways, as it tends to be with personal sites, we could barely get any of our mutual IRL friends to read it. Ever try that? Like, "Oh man! I thought of something really funny, but I can't tell you about it! You have to go online and read it so I get increased traffic." People pretty much stop being your friend at that point.

Back in 2005 when I went to college, the hosting for our image files got the plug yanked and as such we had a bunch of those ferocious Red X's plastered all over the site. What makes it worse was that my computer had died earlier in the year, taking all of the original copies down with the ship. So to get our site looking pretty again, I had to start from scratch.

Since I was back in school and didn't have buckets of time, I figured I'd do a Google Image search for "dane and joel" and see what I'd come up with. Those kind of searches tend to be crapshoots, but this time I found a picture so hilariously awesome I set to work touching it up right away. Here it is.

Regular readers got a laugh out of it, but Dane complained that he didn't get to be the cool guy. I'd never be able to pull off cool hair like the other guy though, so sorry, I guess we're stuck in our roles.

A couple of months later I was back in Rocky working at the store to raise some extra cash on the weekends. A friend of mine came in to the store to say hi, and he said, "So... I went to your site for the first time the other day. Is there something you guys need to tell me?"

Just goes to show you. Sex sells.

Heavens to Betsy, Exit Stage Left!

2008-02-22T14:16:00.001-08:00

Earlier this year, my friend Rob came into the store where I work my second job and said that our old friend Loren was in town and that I should meet them at the bar later. Of course I accepted! I'm terrible at getting back in touch with people, but when they come a-knockin' on my door, I always let them back in. Then they usually throw me out and start peeing in my sink, but whatever. A little Comet and it's like new!

I went to the bar after I closed the store and had a pretty good time, even though I wasn't really drinking. After all, I had to drive back home and I really wasn't willing to sleep in my car again. I have a story about that but I'll probably wait until some other time to tell it. At the end of the night, after my friend Mike threatened to beat the crap out of the DJ, it was decided we'd all go to 7-11 to get some post-bar snacks. (Or is it 7-Eleven? Seven-11? I can never get it right.)

On our way out the door, I saw one of my friendlier customers on his way in. He was quite an amiable fellow when he came in for cigarettes, and always 100% there throughout the entire transaction. As I walked past him, I gave him the cool-guy nod you give when you're a cool guy and you want to let other cool guys know you think they're a cool guy as well. He shouted "HEY HEY HEY!", wheeled around, then grabbed and pinched my ass.

What the hell would you do after that? Hopefully something better than I did, which was go "WOO WOO WOO" like Dr. Zoidberg's Curly impression, then do an old Vaudeville exit out the door.

Anyways, I saw the guy in the store on Wednesday. He was a lot less friendlier then he usually was and wouldn't make eye contact. I mean, come on! Pinch a guy's ass and you don't even acknowledge him the next you see him? I feel so used. I need to go out for a bunch of Haagen-Dazs and watch The Notebook again.

Man, men are such pigs.

Book Club Pick 2: Twilight

2008-02-21T15:20:00.000-08:00

Welcome back to the Joel Nielsen Book Club! We've been on hiatus for a while, so all of our members could catch up on our last pick, Darkfever. They keep crapping themselves and throwing themselves into walls every ten pages or so, and it's really slowing down their progress. Regardless, we stride boldy forward with today's pick, Twilight by Stephanie Myer. They're making a movie based on the book, so it's gotta be good, right? Right? Almost as good as Jumper, I hope.

Here's what the publisher summary has to say:

About three things I was absolutely positive.

First, Edward was a vampire.

Second, there was a part of him--and I didn't know how dominant that part might be--that thirsted for my blood.

And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

So, I was thinki...

...

No. No! I can't go through with this. This is just too much. You know how many stupid vampire romances I've catalogued since I started this gig? Countless! All agony!

And lusting after vampires, still? Sure, it was cute the first couple of times, but come on! You think gazelles get all hot and bothered over lions? "Ooooooh, he's so dark and mysterious! He feeds on blood but I'm so sexy that he has to contain his blood lust and not eat me and that translates into passion and" AGHGGHGGGHGHHGGHGH *smashes head into keyboard*

Damn vampires.

Anyways, I just catalogued the set of Twilight novels, and it came with a poster. It's yours if you want it. Consider it your reward for making it through my deranged, tortured rant.

Tonight We May Lose The Battle

2008-02-20T11:33:00.001-08:00

My Tuesday night ritual typically consists of me bumming around in Southpoint Common in Red Deer before going to see a movie. This would be a bad idea and extremely expensive if I had more money to spend. Thankfully, I don't, so I ended up going to Value Village last night in a bid to waste time before watching Juno.

It was extremely busy there last night. If I didn't have the focus of a sugar-rushing toddler I'd have noticed the signs in the window, but it took an announcement over the intercom for me to recognize that there was a 50% off sale going on. At first I thought, "Really? A 50% off sale at Value Freakin' Village is something to get that excited over?" It then dawned on me that there are probably starving families who need this kind of thing to make ends meet, and I was promptly humbled. Then I tripped over one of the constant stream of Hutterites and I promptly went back to being surly and cynical.

A short while ago I'd be able to walk into the place and have enough clothes to last for six months, but the effects of time on both my appearance and my disposition have put an end to that. Now I don't like a cool "ironic" dude, I just look like some sad wino. Of course, I probably always looked like some sad wino. It's just taken me this long to realize it.

God, I hate buying shirts. It's something I used to love until I realized every shirt looks perfectly ridiculous on me. The upper half of my torso looks smashing in a large! Really it does. But then these idiot love handles make my lower half look like an overstuffed bean-bag chair. And of course, if I swap it around and wear an extra large, my upper half is swimming in fabric. One of my friends once asked if I was wearing a maternity shirt. I suppose there's always tailoring.

Once I finally made it to the till in the checkout lane, the rather frazzled clerk asked "How are you today, sir?". I immediately replied with a very sunny "Good! How are you!" I don't know if you've noticed this but if you say this in a very busy store the clerk will stare at you like a dog that's been shown a card trick.

Wir sagen Willkomen, Bienvenue, Welcome...

Hammer Time

2008-02-19T11:50:00.001-08:00

During the fall of 2002, otherwise known as The Year of Living Dangerously, a very pretty young lady came into my store and asked if we had any long-distance phone cards. I replied yes, and she flashed me a wide grin, saying that she'd definitely be back another time for more. "What's so great about our phone cards?" I wondered to myself, "Same as you'd get anywhere else really." I went back to my crossword puzzle and the thought quicky drifted away.

After buying what must have been over $200 worth of phone cards, she finally got fed up with waiting and asked me out on a date.

After our first date I went to visit her at her house and meet her son. She was getting ready in the back so it was just some quality time with me and the tyke. I've never been great with kids, but I can drum up some youthful spirit when the situation demands it. Damn if it isn't exhausting, though.

The little sprout had a toy tool kit with all of the bits and pieces made out of hollow plastic. He was quite excited to show off his screwdriver, his rachet, and his level. Next thing I knew he wound up and smacked me in the knee with the hammer. Of course, the thing was flimsy so it didn't hurt. I ignored the fact the kid just assaulted me for no good reason, and I decided to play along. "Ooh!!!" I groaned in mock pain. He laughed maniacally and did it again. "Aieeee!!!" Again he brought the hammer down. I shot out my leg and said "Gee, my reflexes are good, doncha think?" He was having too much fun.

Next thing I knew he dropped the hammer and ran out of the room. What was that all about? Kids these days! If somebody let me whack their knee with a hammer when I was a kid, I'd probably have done it for hours. I picked up the toy level and studied the bubble inside.

After about a minute had passed, I heard his maniacal laughter start up again followed by the thump-thump-thump of little feet charging down the hall. He rounded the corner and came charging at me. In his hands was a very menacing full-sized, full-weight claw hammer. He did some practice swings as he closed the distance between us. At this point my eyes were just about to explode out of their sockets and I leapt up onto the couch, threw out my hands, and yelled "Dude!!! NO!!!!" He continued his mad sprint and brought down the hammer on the couch beside me. I took the opportunity and wrested the hammer away from him. He was a bit peeved by that, but better that then having your cartoonish fantasies ruined by sickening cracks, sprays of bloods and my sure-to-be unrestrained screaming.

And people wonder why I tend to stay away from children.

Jump This!

2008-02-15T14:15:00.001-08:00

Hey guys... and gals... and robots. You know, I really don't want to turn this space into Super Fun Happy Movie Reviews by Your Ol' Pal Joel. After all, it's nice to read someone's take on a movie when they have something interesting to say, but only up to a certain point. A VERY SHALLOW certain point. And hey, so far, so good. I've only made some comments on There Will Be Blood, and even then I avoided putting out much of an opinion. Because, you know, I don't put out on the first date.

But seriously, I'm going to have to break that little promise I made to myself, because I went to see Jumper last night. It was terrible. It was awful. It was a complete disgrace to its awesome premise, an absolute waste of time for everyone involved, and nobody comes out of it looking good. Sure, some people try valiantly, and one might think, "well, good for them!" but then one realizes that those in the cast looked at the script and thought it was a good idea, and suddenly all sympathy goes out the window.

The acting was awful. I keep hearing about how good of an actor Hayden Christiansen is when he's away from the Star Wars prequels, but damn if can he show it here. I've seen more convincing emotion from a bucket full of damp rags. His younger counterpart is miles better than he his. As for Rachel Bilson, I never saw the OC, so I have no basis for comparison, but has she ever done anything compelling? Somehow, I don't think she has, but I guess I have no right to make that call. And Samuel L. Jackson? He's pushed me over the line. I can't believe the man's career trajectory has taken him here. Having him in a movie used to be a selling point for me. That ain't the case anymore, to say the least.

Considering the movie is based on a well-loved novel for young adults, you'd figure there'd at least be an interesting plot, right? Nope! Anything interesting is forgotten as soon as its mentioned, while the movie spends an inordinate amount of time focussed on this half-assed "secret identity" romance subplot we've all seen plenty of times before. Wow! He can't reveal his powers to her and its causing tension! Layer the previously-mentioned great acting over this terrific plot point and you have the recipe for a casserole of failure so epic that Jamie Oliver just took a crap in his pants.

"But wait!" someone shouts in the dark. "Wait! The action scenes must be terrific! Lots of teleportation whiz-bang-a-hoo-hoo! That Nightcrawler scene at the beginning of X2 was pretty rad, so this has got to be even better, right? Well, there is some neat stuff to see here, but it's ALL BEEN SHOWN IN THE TRAILER. I know it's a filmgoing cliche to say that "all the good stuff was in the trailer!", but here, it's actually true! I'd never seen something like that before! In most movies, yes, some clips of the neat stuff will be in the trailer, but it'll run a bit longer in the movie, or they'll have some stuff that's not as cool, but is still pretty neat. Not the case here. There's some wacky stuff with a flamethrower, but whatever.

The movie was critically drubbed, but no one I know really pays attention to what critics think anymore, especially when it comes to movies like this. After all, 300 was dismissed by plenty of critics, but plenty of people I know count the movie as one of their favorites. I would advise you to listen to them this time, as I probably should have. I thought, well, whatever! They're obviously coming down from the Oscar rush and they have higher expectations than normal. But no, they're entirely right. It's BAD.

And you know, it's not that the movie is bad which makes me hate it so much. Bad movies can still be entertaining. It's just that the movie misses the middling mark it aims for and ends up becoming utterly boring as a result. It's the worst movie of the year so far, which might not seem that heavy of a statement at first. But when you consider that I started my movie-going year with Alvin and the Chipmunks, One Missed Call, and Rambo, that statement becomes a lot more damning.

So, please, don't reward this film. Never watch it. Don't rent it, don't see it on television. If someone else puts it on, leave the room. If it's your house, tell them to leave.

There, I've said my peace. I won't mention another movie for at least two weeks.

Hearts A-Flutter

2008-02-14T11:26:00.000-08:00

There Will Be Acting

2008-02-13T14:10:00.000-08:00

You know, it's part of our civic duty to go and watch some of the Best Picture nominees every year. Because although the Academy Awards are typically a big bloated pile of pig manure, at least they aren't the freaking Grammys. Or the Junos for that matter. Celine Dion getting more nominations than Feist? Three cheers for irrelevancy, folks! The music industry is like a grotesquely obese man wearing a belly shirt, really. His shame is out there for everyone to see, but he doesn't care! You'll see his gut and like it. After all, why should he change? It's not like people are going to look at something else! Oh, wait... they are. Sucks to be you, big boy!

That probably would have been more inspiring if I said it three years ago.

Anyways, seeing as most of you are probably making your Oscar choice Juno or No Country for Old Men, I figured I'd go see There Will Be Blood last night. I wanted to make it a double feature, but There Will Be Blood is a little over 2 and a half hours long, so nix that to that idea. I can imagine some of you are saying no to the movie based on the length, so all I gotta say is: Suck it up, buttercup! If you can make it through the Lord of the Rings epilogue where nothing happens but hobbits saying their teary goodbyes to each other, then you can damn well handle this.

Short summary: Daniel Day-Lewis plays Daniel Plainview, an oilman who accidentally kills Santa Claus. The oilman is surprised to find out that he needs to replace Santa Claus due to some buried clause in some contract... somewhere. On his way he discovers the true meaning of Christmas and that since he's a false idol that draws attention away from the Holy Birth he is blasphemous and must be destroyed. He goes on the run with the Ghost of Christmas Past and the Little Drummer Boy on an epic journey into the depths of the human soul.

Or not.

So what did I think? Well, that's surprisingly not relevant. I've often found that people regularly ignore my opinions on movies, music... pretty much anything. They're glad to hear it, and may find it amusing from time to time, but they rarely listen to what I have to say. And you know, at this point in my life I really don't mind. That is, until they come back to me and say they finally checked out the movie I recommended... based on somebody else's recommendation. I mean, come on!

What I'd like to do today is point out that this movie is primarily a character-driven piece. Many of you might have figured this out already based on all the praise Daniel Day-Lewis has been getting while the rest of the movie is barely mentioned. Pity poor Paul Dano. The film pulses with each beat of Daniel Plainview's blackened heart, and this ultimately leads to how much you're going to get out of the whole thing. There's a plot here, folks, but it's not going to sustain you if that's what you're looking for. If you think you'll find Daniel Plainview compelling, then the film will be compelling.

Just be prepared, because when There Will Be Blood comes out on video, there's going to be a TON of people squawking on about how bad it is. I guarantee this. Heck, they're already doing it now. Go visit the forum on the movie's page on the IMDB.

And finally... I drink your milkshake! I DRINK IT UP!!!

Damn right, it's better than yours!
A joke too far

Playtime

2008-02-12T14:20:00.001-08:00

Hey champs, I slept in this morning and had to make up the lost time during my lunch break. And since that's when I write these things, it's going to have to be a short one today. This could be welcome news for some of you.

I catalogue lots of kid's books during my day, and I'm always kind of amused by the child's view of what adulthood is like. I was "cataloguing" a story about this dog who, after having a busy day at work, was chilling beside the fireplace and reading the newspaper. All of a sudden, the doorbell rang. He sprinted to the door, and saw three of his friends standing outside. They shouted at him to come out and play, so he threw on a scarf and cannonballed into a nearby snowdrift. Oh, the laughter that resulted!

It's not like it's a big deal or anything, but seriously, could that ever happen? DOES that ever happen? If you were hanging around inside and three of your adult friends pounded on the door and told you to come make snow angels with them, and there were no kids involved, what would your reaction be? Personally, I'd wonder about what kind of recreational drugs they were doing beforehand.

Strange how such an innocent thing seems so far away.

Sneaux de Toilette

2008-02-11T14:05:00.001-08:00

There was a big blizzard in the area last night, and naturally, it blew in during my hour-and-a-half drive back to Lacombe. So, based on my experiences I'm writing a guide on how YOU! Yes, YOU! can survive driving through an hour-and-a-half of frozen winter shit.

The first order of business setting the XM radio to the comedy channel. After all, there's no better time to be hit by a giggle fit than when a situation demands finesse and absolute control. Then again, last night they were playing a whole bunch of those inane prank phone calls that make the Jerky Boys look like erudite intellectuals. I guess I didn't need to worry about laughing.

Ever again.

The main thing to keep in mind when you're going on your wintry way is to maintain a comfortable speed. Don't rush! Speed kills. Or at least drains your wallet and forces you to deal with a condescending tow truck driver. I ended up in the ditch once and the person who stopped to help me refused to help me place the chain on my car because he didn't want to be held responsible for "any damage to my vehicle". So I had to figure out where to put it, only getting "I wouldn't put it there if I were you" when I was going in the wrong direction. It got to the point where I figured that if this was what I was going to have to go through just to get back to civilization, then it's not worth it. I was going to go run into the forest and hang out in a tree, far away from the agony of chains and ditches, and live on a diet of wildflowers and squirrels. So yeah, don't end up in the ditch.

Also, somebody will have left tracks in the snow ahead of you. It's up to you whether or not you want to follow in these tracks, but keep in mind the person ahead of you might have been really drunk or simply have no grasp on the concept of three-dimensional space, so don't be surprised to find yourself veering into oncoming traffic. I don't think "I was just followin' the trail!" will be good enough for your insurance company.

If it was only this, then driving in winter would be simple! Relaxing, even. However, there will be other people on the road, and more often than not they will be in a bigger hurry than you. When you see somebody's headlights in your rear-view mirror, one of two things will happen:

If the vehicle behind you is light-weight with low-grip tires, they will inevitably shoot past you and leave you swerving in a cloud of snow. I guess it's up to you to stop and help them when you find them in the ditch later on. Just let them put the chain on themselves. That's always fun.
If the vehicle is heavy with lots of grip and 4x4, they'll just hang out behind you with their brights on. Naturally, this vehicle will be bigger than yours and have the headlights placed at the perfect position to leave you fumbling in the glare no matter what you do.

Things will become their most complex when you see an oncoming vehicle, however. Unlike other times when you're sort of free to to follow the path of least resistance, here you're forced to stay on your side of the road. And since there's usually drifts of snow in the area you're forced to now drive in, you're constantly fighting being dragged into the ditch. It's like trying to thread a needle while some jerk is shoving your arm every ten seconds.

Still, as hard as dealing with other drivers during a snowstorm can be, it's heartening to know that at least you're not the only goddamned idiot with places to be.

Welcome to the Secret Shame

2008-02-08T14:09:00.000-08:00

Allow me to preface this by saying that I'm not a very big fan of anime. Never have, and probably never will be. There are some shows that I've enjoyed, I'll certainly give you that. And I have more than passing knowledge about the whole anime scene due to my being a gamer, being that gaming has always overlapped anime in the ol' Venn diagram of geekish interests. But seriously, the day I shift myself in the geek hierarchy to join the subculture that gave the world those intensely creepy hugging pillows would have to be an interesting day indeed.

If I wrote stuff that people actually read I'd have to include a sarcastic note to the effect of "Oooh, let the flood of hate-mail begin!", but since I'm not, I guess we can just move on.

Back when I was a young lad fresh out of school, I made some mistakes. Terrible, terrible mistakes. However, these were not sexy mistakes, and such tragically unsexy mistakes don't lead one on a life of dangerous, sexy adventure, which is usually associated with a young man who makes frequent mistakes. Instead, such terrible -- yet downright tedious -- mistakes drive one to live the life of a shut-in. I'm not going to bore you with further details but I've never really found much in the media that speaks to my experiences back then. Not that I'd actively seek something out that forced me to return to the extreme depression and utter isolation of those times, but whatever.

It was wholly by accident that I did discover it last year, and even more shocking that it came in the form of an anime. Welcome to the NHK does a wonderful job of documenting the highs and lows of being a completely unproductive member of society, from having high-flying dreams of realized potential, to seeing those dreams crushed under the lead weight of personal inertia.

I quickly downloaded the entire series and I've been buying copies of the manga as soon as they're released. I'd been thinking of buying the DVDs when they were released here, too. And what a stroke of luck! I found them for sale in the Best Buy in Red Deer.

Well, now that I think about it, maybe it wasn't a stroke of luck. Maybe it was some other kind of stroke. After all, how else would you explain the cover I saw as I eagerly snatched it off the shelf?

What the hell is this shit? There's no way I could bring this stupid thing up to the counter! I mean, it's not much, but I do have SOME pride. I write these posts during my breaks at work and I'm desperately looking around, hoping nobody can see my monitor. And the ridiculous thing is that picture has absolutely NOTHING to do with the show! There's nobody dressed like that in the entire series! They just threw that on there so that some perverted asshole will pick it up, get a nosebleed, then buy it. That's guaranteeing some sales, I suppose.

But not from me, sadly, not from me. All I see on that cover is everything I don't like about anime used to sell one of the few anime that I do like.

Scenes from a Convenience Store: The Chocolate Edition

2008-02-07T14:09:00.000-08:00

Have you ever seen those "portion-control" chocolate bars? Like the Nestle Singles or Cadbury Thins? Ever stop and consider what a load of crap that is? These chocolate companies are getting paid almost the same amount of money for substantially less product.

For some perspective, at our store we sell those little Halloween mini-chocolate bars year-round. Our price for one? 25 cents. Our price for the Nestle Single? 89 cents! And you know what? They're practically the same size. Sure, the Nestle Single's a bit bigger, but certainly not enough to justify the price difference.

But whatever, the market's always been based on what people are willing to pay, not on what the product's actually worth. I guess that's what willpower's worth to some people. Although a lot of people buy more than one at a time, and that, my friends, is when I reach for my revolver.

Wheee!!!

I thought the flavoured chocolate bar mania of yesteryear was a bit overdone. Seriously, they even had a lemonade-flavoured Crunchie bar, which was so terrible we had to give it away in surprise bags. Surprise! You just got gipped out of two bucks! Thankfully, after they released the yoghurt versions of several popular brands, people finally had enough sense to say no. However, I never knew other countries had it worse. Here's some of the varieties of Kit Kat they released in Japan: maple syrup, melon, vanilla bean, grape, apple, caramel, kiwi, azuki, and cherry blossom.

A girl came up to the counter last night, grabbed one of the wrapped chocolate-covered cherries, and stared into it like she was some future archaeologist trying to decipher the mysterious runes printed on the package.

Girl: What is this?
Me: It's a chocolate-covered cherry.
Girl: Is it just chocolate?
Me: ...no, it's also got a cherry in it.
Girl: What does it taste like?
Me: Um... chocolate. And cherries.

So she put it down and grabbed a Ferrero Rocher instead. Thank goodness she knew what that was, because if she couldn't grasp chocolate-covered cherries I wouldn't even know where to begin with explaining Ferrero Rochers to her.

Whatever Happened to Tommy Lee Jones?

2008-02-06T11:16:00.000-08:00

Oh, Tommy Lee Jones. You kinda had me worried there for a while, but then No Country for Old Men came out and everything seemed great again. Then you go ahead and do this:

Then again, considering how much money some of these stars get paid to do these Japanese commercials I shouldn't be surprised. For more videos of celebrities shilling in Japan go here. You may be surprised at who you see.

http://www.japander.com

Also, I bought a PS3 and the whole Rock Band setup last night. Apparently I don't like money as much as I thought. I may get to play video game drums now but there goes my dream of swimming in money like that cartoon duck.

And yes, I know his name is Uncle Scrooge. Cartoon duck just sounded better. Oh, it doesn't? Well, if you're so smart, then why don't you write a damn note, huh? Philistines.

I Ain't Permission You At All

2008-02-05T11:36:00.001-08:00

I just finished cataloguing a whole bunch of videos. It's probably one of the more intensive things about the job, but I love doing it because it gives me a chance to reminisce about these movies.

Anyways, for each of these movies we have to add a note about permissions. Most videos are set so they can only be watched in the home, and you know, that's cool. If you want to broadcast things to large groups of people or charge money for showings, you have to give the production company a taste. This is why videos for schools are so insanely expensive, and why unless you're living in a rich school district most of the videos your kids are watching are at least fifteen years old. I grew up in the eighties and I remember seeing films from the fifties, for goodness sake.

My favorite permission so far has been "for unadvertised, private home viewing only". That's all well and good, but does anybody do any advertised, private home viewing? Like, they're at the lunch table:

"Guess what guys! I'm watching Good Will Hunting tonight!"
"Cool, can we come over?"
"No, it's against the law."

Or have a note on the billboard that says Having a Shrek Marathon this weekend. That's it. No contact info, no address, no anything.

Permissions rule.

Slow and Low

2008-02-04T11:03:00.000-08:00

So I went back to Rocky this weekend, as I do every weekend, to find that there's no water in the trailer. Whatsoever. The Big Chill we had this week did a number on the crappy copper pipes in the place. On the bright side we didn't have any self-absorbed ex-hippies having sex with each other, so we take what we can get. Hate to see what the exterminator would charge to get rid of those.

Naturally, this made personal hygiene a bit more of a bother than usual. There was a giant bowl filled with water and a facecloth lying in the sink, and I figured this was going to have to be my alternative to having a shower. It wasn't really something I was looking forward to, so I decided to put off until I went to work. Right as I was shutting down the computer and getting ready I got a phone call from my mother saying that yep, that was the new bathing setup. Only that I should get a new facecloth because she used the one in the kitchen to "wash her ass."

*blink*

Well, wasn't that cheeky of you? Thank goodness I waited, is all I'm saying. Thank goodness I waited.

Anyways, I went back to Lacombe yesterday night early to do my laundry so I wouldn't have to wear my Tusken Raider shirt to work the next day. All's well and good until I get up in the middle of the night and find that the toilet won't flush. There isn't water running in the sink or the shower either. I go to the other bathroom and find the same thing. The hell? Is freakin' Allen Funt hiding in the hall? He damn well better be because this is just sick.

Luckily, I woke up in the morning and found everything was back to good. I wore my Tusken Raider shirt anyway, because what's dignity worth when you're desperately searching for the right authority file on a generically-named director of some D-movie that came out fifteen years ago?

Cataloguers will get it, I promise you.

Darkfever

2008-02-01T11:39:00.000-08:00

Well, hello there! Welcome to the inaugural meeting of my book club. I handle at lot of books during my work day, and believe me, there are some fantastic titles out there that are bound to be overlooked. But first, I must take a minute to address some rumblings from the back. Yes folks? What’s that? Why should you listen to me when Oprah’s ready and willing to vomit her book picks into your helpless little chickadee mouths? Well, I’m prettier, goddamnit! Also, I promise not to vomit into your mouths. Figuratively or literally.

Anyway, I’m pleased as punch to introduce to you a wonderful little gem of a book. It’s not often I find a book that inspires me as much as this one. This book was so powerful, I didn’t even need to read it to be blown away! As soon as I read the back, I knew I needed to share my powerful emotions with all of you. All two of you, to be perfectly honest, but anyways, here’s Darkfever, by noted romance author Karen Marie Moning!

Wait… Karen Marie Moning? That’s the name of a romance author? Oh, that’s just too perfect.

Author: Hi, I’m Karen Marie Moning.
Joel: Yes, but who are you where you’re not?

*ba-dum-tish*

Somebody tell me where The Rock is, because it’s time for a rundown.

MacKayla Lane’s life is good. She has great friends, a decent job, and a car that breaks down only every other week or so. In other words, she’s your perfectly ordinary twenty-first-century woman. Or so she thinks…until something extraordinary happens.

A car that breaks down every other week? That’s not normal, that’s shitty!

When her sister is murdered, leaving a single clue to her death–a cryptic message on Mac’s cell phone–Mac journeys to Ireland in search of answers. The quest to find her sister’s killer draws her into a shadowy realm where nothing is as it seems, where good and evil wear the same treacherously seductive mask.

She is soon faced with an even greater challenge: staying alive long enough to learn how to handle a power she had no idea she possessed–a gift that allows her to see beyond the world of man, into the dangerous realm of the Fae…

As Mac delves deeper into the mystery of her sister’s death, her every move is shadowed by the dark, mysterious Jericho, a man with no past and only mockery for a future.

I wish I was sexy and brooding. Then I could stalk people and not get thrown in jail.

As she begins to close in on the truth, the ruthless Vlane–an alpha Fae who makes sex an addiction for human women–closes in on her.

Well, th… WHAT? Vlane? Makes women addicted to sex? Say what, say what? How the heck does that work? Does he have to have sex with them first or does he just point at them and then BOOM! Instant nymphomaniac? To hell with flight or invisibility! This is the new power I want to have! Not for my own gratification, of course. Yeah, I’m sure you all believe me there, but think of all the fun you could have! I mean, you’re stuck in traffic, waiting in line somewhere, having a slow day at the office… all you’ve got to do is just do whatever it takes to unleash the flibbity-flabbity-floo and you’ve got instant entertainment.

Of course, you know that with great power comes responsibility… God, I’m picturing a tragic origin story much like Spider-Man’s here and I don’t know if it’s fit for sharing.

And as the boundary between worlds begins to crumble, Mac’s true mission becomes clear: find the elusive Sinsar Dubh before someone else claims the all-powerful Dark Book–because whoever gets to it first holds nothing less than complete control of the very fabric of both worlds in their hands. . .

Oh, and there’s a trailer for this book up on Youtube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hnjt60RRUXs

Yeah, nobody’s going to watch that beside me, but anyway… yeah, SURE, her name is pronounced “mawning"! That’s a long vowel, fools! LONG VOWEL!

Joel Done Gone Lost His Mind

2008-01-31T09:03:00.000-08:00

I'm Looking Over...

2008-01-30T11:18:00.000-08:00

An Awkward Conversation Brought On by Cloverfield

Woman: Oh, honey, would you go through all that to try and rescue me, too?
Man: Um… yeah… *runs away*

Hud was my favorite character in the movie. He said a lot of the stuff I’d say in that situation, if I was a more talkative fellow. Of course, people who have seen the movie are thinking, “Well, Hud was kind of idiot, wasn’t he?” Well, folks, you discovered my secret. People always think, “Man, Joel’s pretty smart!”, but if I was chattier, they’d find out that I was a goddamned moron.

On their way out of theatre a group of teenage girls said it was one of the worst movies they’ve ever seen and even said they’d rather go see “Calvin” and the Chipmunks instead. Calvin and the Chipmunks. That’s pretty much the only thing you need to be able to ignore those girls’ opinion, right there.

Oh, and it was so cold in Red Deer last night that the water lines for the fountain pop in the theatre froze.

Hooray!!!

Snow Day

2008-01-29T11:40:00.000-08:00

I pulled into the parking lot of my job on Monday and was bewildered to see there were no other vehicles there. There was just a gigantic snow drift that encompassed the entire parking lot. For those of you not in Alberta, we’ve been hit with some really wacky weather, with temperatures plunging to 30 below and 50 below with windchill. Anyways, I sat and waited to see if anybody would show up. The director came by about fifteen minutes later. I got out to wait for him to shut off the alarm. He looked at me like I was retarded and shouted over the wind at me, “The office is closed! Go home!”

Did I just get a Snow Day? Seriously?

Sadly, I didn’t get involved in any “wacky” mishaps with an insane snowplowman. Neither did I manage to hook up with a girl WAY out of my league, despite -- or perhaps because of -- my terminal goofiness. Also, there were no Chevy Chases to be seen. Anywhere.

Thank Christ.

Do you really wanna hurt me...
Kind of makes me wonder why I bothered with the mad rush back to Lacombe the night before. A huge blizzard with visibility as low as 10 metres ahead sometimes, big snow drifts all over the road, insane assholes riding my ass for – heaven forbid! – going a bit lower than the speed limit. Hell, there could have been a bear violating me at the same time and it couldn’t have made things much worse.

Then again, there’s always Rambo. I was bored last night, so I went to the movie theatre in Lacombe, and it was a toss-up between stale testosterone (Rambo) and a hyperactive romantic comedy (27 Dresses). There’s how many good movies out now and that’s the shit we get? Rural theatres are awful!

Aw, hell, Chevy; at this point, you’re more than welcome to come back.

...Man, that's some nightmare fuel right there.

Stapp Infection

2008-01-27T10:58:00.001-08:00

I was listening to the 90s station on XM radio and My Own Prison by Creed came on. That's one of those rites of passage you go through on your way into your 30s, isn't it? It's when songs that were popular when you were first in college start making their way onto the oldies stations.

One thing to say for Creed is that they're definitely a fun band to sing along to when you try to be as ridiculously over-the-top as possible. For once, I tried to man up and sing it like Scott Stapp does. I was rewarded with the most ridiculous sinus headache I've ever had in my life.

No wonder that guy was so pissed all the time! I'd be a Grumpy Gus too if my main claim to fame made my sinuses feel like they were ready to erupt like a snotty Mt. Vesuvius.

Is that what the Christ pose was all about? Was he just trying to get some drainage going? "Let's see, tilt my head back, stretch my arms... *relief*" He looks at the newspaper the next day, "Scott Stapp thinks he's Jesus" appears in the concert review.

I'd probably write "With Arms Wide Open" after that, too.

This... Is... Overplayed

2008-01-26T12:21:00.000-08:00

At the second job last night...

Rolf: All right, look at all this stock!
Joel: Okay, I put all the cigarettes away. How many cartons did we get in?
Rolf: 300.

*ping*

Rolf: What?

*Joel is shaking like Roger Rabbit trying not to finish Judge Doom's Shave and a Haircut gag*

Joel: THIS... IS... SPARTA!!!!

*beat*

Rolf: And you wonder why nobody at your other job wants to talk to you.

Although I have to admit, I do a damn good Leonidas.

Also, I somehow managed to go through the whole day yesterday with dress shirt on inside out. How out of it do ya have to be???

Left Behind

2008-01-25T11:39:00.000-08:00

I've been reading the archives of my old blogs lately and boy, has it ever been bittersweet. Funny how time passes, isn't it? A lot of these posts are only a few years old, but they feel like they're a million miles away.

Nobody ever told me how lonely it can get cataloguing books. There's always my coworkers, I suppose, but damn if I can find a way to relate to them beyond simple pleasantries. I can tell some of them are getting annoyed with my terminal aloofness. It's just a pattern I've seen repeated with every social circle I've been in orbit in. Sometimes I burst forth like a shining shimmering social butterfly, most of the time I'm stick in my rigid social coccoon.

Anyone remember the old South Park cartoon with the Underpants Gnomes? (Stay with me, here.) They steal underpants for some seemingly greater reason, and when pressed on the issue they offer up this now-infamous chart:

1. Underpants
2. ????
3. Profit!

This three-part business plan has been parodied to heck. Strangely enough, I find it somehow connects to my life. I just never knew what my "step 1" was. I thought as soon as I figured out my first step, the rest of my life would fall neatly into place.

Question marks are assholes.

Dane Sucks!

2007-09-11T15:40:00.000-07:00

Yeah, that's right, you saw the title. And in two weeks, once Dane comes back and reads it, oh boy will there be drama! Mark the date off on your calendars! That is, if sissy boy isn't too busy flipping out on McDonalds customers. This wouldn't have happened if he worked at A & W instead.

McLovin

2007-09-02T23:06:00.000-07:00

I was standing in line at McDonald's. I next in line. A couple, a guy and a girl about my age, were right in front of me. Their order was just about complete. They were having a two cheeseburger meal, a big mac meal and an extra Jr. chicken.

It looked like a tasty meal. The 16-year-old cashier dropped off the fries last. As soon as the deep-fried goodness landed on the tray, both guy and girl reached down and touched the fries.

"They'll do. I guess," said the lady.

They looked like regular people, who knew they were at a McDonald's. They paid five maybe six dollars for each meal. What the FUCK were they expecting? Don't try and act like a food connoisseur at a damn McDonald's. If you want something that you won't bitch about in ten minutes, you have to spend a little money.

Maybe try an Arby's. Hell yeah!

Just so you know...

2007-07-17T17:46:00.000-07:00

When you go out for a bite to eat on a 30-plus day, you should know there is going to be some sweat in your food. It may look like grease, but really that's sweat.

Cooks work in an environment full of heating instruments. It's at least an extra 10 degrees in the kitchen. I have never worked anywhere with air conditioning in the back or any type of cooling mechanism. The most I've ever had was an open door, which does nothing.

On Sunday, it was one of those super hot days. It was so hot that the glass doors for our cooler all of the sudden popped. The safety glass was shattered. It looked like a spider's web. I perspired all over the food that day.

Enjoy your next trip to a restaurant on a hot, sunny day.

I'm also taking this little heat wave in Calgary to test out deodorants. So far, Old Spice is the best. Degree is the worst and Right Guard is somewhere in the middle. I'm not going to try Axe. I've seen the commercials and I don't want to be molested by the servers.

I am ashamed

2007-07-10T21:44:00.000-07:00

I got so drunk at the Stampede during the blank ticket concert. I was sooooo wasted; I drank a bud. I know it's pathetic. It's the lowest I've ever been. I hope everyone hasn't lost all respect for me, but I guess I should tell you a little more information before you make that decision. I also wore a cowboy hat for an extended period of time. It was free. I didn't want to at first, but the gross beer did funny things to me. I wasn't myself.

The night came to a huge disappointment when Default took the stage. Wow, what a great band, I write sarcastically.

Stampede is always a confusing time for me. It's hard to tell the difference between cowgirls and strippers in cowgirl costumes. All the girls are dressed like slutty horse riders. It's terrible. What if you just want a kick lap dance. There's no way to know who to talk to.

For all those wondering...

Joel hasn't posted for a while because of a terrible push-up accident. His arms are broken. I told him there was no way he could do a push-up while I hit his arms with a sledgehammer. That dumb bastard.

A must see

2007-07-06T18:03:00.000-07:00

No matter what Joel says, Optimus Prime does not suck. He is frick'n super amazing. Everyone should go see the movie as soon as possible and multiple times.

Being the only Kryptonian left, why doesn't superman try rebuild a new Krypton. He should be having sex with every girl around. Really, what girl would say no to him?

I finally got a cell phone. Now, I have an excuse for weaving from lane to lane and cutting people off. I can interrupt a conversation with a jingle of the phone. I can be that prick that doesn't turn his phone off during a movie, in class, at funerals, weddings and recitals. It's going to be a lot of fun.

So that's where they all are

2007-06-28T13:42:00.000-07:00

I went to Smitty's on the weekend and found out where all the ugly servers are. I'm guessing it's not just the one franchise but all crappy food chains.

The service is just as good if not better than anywhere else. They're just not as pleasing on the eyes.

The waitress hierarchy:

Gorgeous girls find work in Nightclubs. Fake breasts and little clothing will get a job at one of the city's top five hot spots.

Cute girls will be able to find work in pubs. I know. At my place of business, we don't even look at the resume if the girl doesn't meet the required superficial standards. It's not sexist. We do the same for the male bartenders. (I got my job because I'm stuck in the back out of plain view. It doesn't matter what I look like. I just had to be stupid enough to accept the position.)

The rest of the serving population have to fight for the crap jobs. They have to sling eggs 24 hours a day. They have to scrounge for tips because the menus have the cheapest food ever and the 15% commission doesn't amount to much. Male servers can also be found here. No drunk guy in a pub want's to be served by a man.

It finally happened...

2007-06-25T21:32:00.000-07:00

My final class of the semester landed on Thursday, June 21. It was the 15th class of the course and for one student it was very special.

My classmate was a want-to-be keener. He shouted out the answer to every question the prof asked. Unfortunately, he didn't get a correct answer throughout the entire two months.

"What's the first thing you do when solving an simple annuity?"
"Untie your shoes."
"How do you find the balance owing on a mortgage after 23 payments?"
"Gargle some water."

I sat in my desk in pain. Was he really this stupid? Were we actually in the same class? I felt bad for the teacher. The teacher must have been frustrated. The lone do-gooder in the class was probably partially retarded.

Midway through the last class, he blasted out, yet another, incorrect response. It was then I vowed to put him out of his misery. I'd walk over and use a jedi mind trick. I'd levitate him out of his desk and butterfly kick him in the chops. Hopefully, he'd be unable to talk for some time.

The teacher asked one more question. I started to get out of my desk. I could see the moron's mouth open, about to answer.

Holy crap! He got one right. I froze. Standing up in front of the class, I couldn't do a damn thing. The shock had left me immobile.

The teacher told me to take a seat.

I didn't like his tone, so he got a butterfly kick to the chops. BUUUUyhaaaaaa.

Too bad I'm such a sissy. I broke my foot on his face. I could tell everyone he was a robot from the future trying to teach advanced accounting practices to continuing education students throughout Calgary. I might have said he was a lava monster from Marinas Trench, but both of these are lies. I'm just a sissy.

I'm stumped

After months of calculations, intensive computer simulations and a consultation with a voodoo, pig slayer, my mind is still at unrest.

Who the hell would win in a fight? Golem, the little blue kid from the Grudge or Ashley Hall?

Who is Ashley Hall you ask? Let's just say I wouldn't want to bump into him on a sandy beach, especially if he had a stick. Doesn't matter what size or type of wood.

The blue kid is creepy. Golem is savage. Ashley is just Ashley. Nuff said.

I'll call it a draw and move on to the next question: If Hillary Clinton manages to become president, how long will it take for her to fool around with an intern to exact revenge on Bill?

Really?

2007-06-20T19:43:00.001-07:00

We just got a bunch of new steak knives for the restaurant.

One waitress doesn't like the new blades.

Why?

"They're too sharp and pointy."

Damn those sharp pointy knives. Let's all take a moment and shake our fists in the air.

Please

Ozzie, please stop. I know you don't want to, but it's time.

Radio stations. Don't encourage him by playing his I don't want to stop song.

Ozzie fans. Old Black Sabbath was good back in the day. It's not that good anymore and it never will be again. Quit reliving the past.

Now I'm going to listen to my New Kids CD. They'll never get old.

Some people are so nice

2007-06-17T22:06:00.000-07:00

So, I'm looking at the schedule. I'm working the day shift all week.

One of the servers asks me "why don't you work any evenings?"
"I'm taking classes in the evening," I reply in my deep, manly voice that rumbles like thunder.
"Oh, what are you taking?" the inquisitive young mind asks.
"Accounting."
"Really, that's cool."

This was where I bit my tongue. The sarcasm wanted to burst through my lips, but I swallowed it like that little bit of upchuck that comes with the sixth tequila shot of the night. I wanted to say something like "yes it is cool. That's why when you go to the nightclub there's a group of middle-aged, chubby guys with cheap clothing, pocket protectors and glasses that all the guys want to be and all the girls want to sleep with. Calculators and suspenders are such a turn on."

Really I said "it's really not that cool." Then, I walked away.

It was nice of her to pretend that accounting is cool.

Is your mechanic this dumb?

I took my car in for a checkup.

"What's the problem?"
"There's a loud vibrating sound from under the car. Can you check it out?"
"Sure."

Later that afternoon on the phone....
"Did you have a chance to look at my car?"
"Yeah, we just need a little more information. This vibration, could you feel it in the steering wheel or the gear shift?"
"No, it was a sound. I couldn't feel any vibration."
"Did the steering wheel shake?"
"No, I just heard a sound."
"We heard a clunking sound, but that's normal for old transmissions."
"It was a vibrating sound from under the car. Did you hear the noise?"
"We heard the clunking noise, but that's fine. We didn't feel any vibration."

This was where I wanted to turn into Keanu Reeves and zoom through the phone to a spaceship outside the Matrix. My crew could ring me to a location closer to the mechanic so I could rip his freakin' head off.

Instead, I asked "what do you recommend now?"
"We think it's a transmission problem. You should take it to a specialist."
"It's not anything serious?"
"Oh no. You can drive it out of here."

How the hell does he know if it's serious if he can't find the cause?

The good part about this - the garage didn't charge me for the checkup and they gave me a coupon and free inspection at another place.

One last thing... I can not wait for Transformers to come out. That is going to be one great film. Damn!!!!

The bitter cook

2007-06-12T21:31:00.000-07:00

I've been in the restaurant industry for more than ten years now. I did have a three year break from the kitchen for a brief stint in journalism. I'm back behind the grill and the past two days were very special for me.

A first happened. For the very first time in my decade long battle with deep fryers, I took a FoodSafe course. I will soon be a certified food handler. Yippy.

What did I learn at the 16-hour course?

Everything in a kitchen is deadly! If you don't properly cool a sauce, bacteria will grow and infect a patron. They will eventually die.

If a server touches the edge of a plate, the food could become contaminated and the customer could die.

The whole thing seemed to be a scare tactic. Everything in the kitchen has the POTENTIAL to kill.

I read the best quote in the Calgary Herald this week. It pertains to the story about Prince Harry and a Cowboy's bartender (Cherie Cymbalisty). She's the one that sold her story to British tabloids in order to keep her privacy. The fake-breasted, bottle-cap remover is hoping to use this bit of publicity to kick start her playboy bunny aspirations.

The quote is from U of C pop culture expert Rebecca Sullivan about Cymbalisty, and it goes a little something like this "There are girls out there who have dreamed all their lives to grow up to become a bimbo and, hey, she made it."

I cracked up when I read this. I also italicized the irony just in case we have some very slow, as in dumb, readers.

Wicked!

A quick way to fame

2007-06-07T20:18:00.001-07:00

If you want to be famous, you should put on a mask and go around beating up celebrities. Especially, the celebrities that people don't like.

Start with, let's say, Clay Aiken. Put on your mask, run up to him and punch his face.

In order for this plan to succeed, you'll need a photographer. The beating can't go unnoticed.

Next try, Lindsay Lohan. Then, Justin Timberlake. Followed by the annoying "zoom, zoom" kid.

By the fifth beating, you'll be plastered throughout the tabloids and nothing will stop your rise to stardome.

Of course, you'll face assault charges. But, you'll be hero to millions of people around the world. I'm guessing a book deal, movie deal and a clothing line will come from all the attention. Plus the money the tabloids will pay for the photos should pay for a nice lawyer.

Paris Hilton couldn't last a full three days in jail. What a joke. Actually that's not true. With her fame and money, I'm surprised she spent any time behind bars.

Supposedly, she almost had a nervous breakdown. SO. Suck it up princess.

When she dies, I hope it's by a drunk driver.

I like songs

2007-04-15T21:36:00.000-07:00

Joel's theme song for the week is Tom Jones "Sex Bomb."

Why?

Do you really need to ask? Haven't you seen him in his spring wardrobe.

My theme song for the week is "he wore an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow polka dot bikini."

Why?

Have you seen me in my itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow polka dot bikini?

If you're lucky, Joel might post a picture.

Geepers

2007-04-04T18:53:00.000-07:00

Once again, the local radio station built up my hopes for the past week.

"There's a huge concert announcement. Listen up! Wednesday morning. Nine a.m."

I was pumped. Was it going to be the Beastie Boys, Manson, Celine? The intrigue was almost too much to bear.

I woke up Wednesday morning at the usual 8:45, and made it to work just before nine. The announcement got closer and closer.

Who was it? Damn Bon Jovi. Whoopity Do. Are the eighties making a comeback?

I was stocking the coolers when the radio dj spread the news.

Then I heard the ticket prices -- $170 to $90. My jaw dropped into a bin of chicken wings. Holy molly.

I'm still more disgusted by the cost than I am that my chin marinated in cold chicken blood.

I'm trying to figure out if there's a band out there that I'd pay $170 to see. I can't think of one. Maybe Nirvana if Kurt rose from the dead as a zombie and devoured the band at the end of the show. Goodbye Dave. I will miss the Foo Fighters. Your other bands not so much.

It's hard to believe that there's people out there that can afford the $170. I guess they have way too much money and nothing to spend it on. I'm also assuming they haven't heard of charity.

Go spend your money on a washed-up 80s rock icon instead of helping cure cancer or feeding that starving Ethiopian.

I won't be going to the concert.

Knowledge In The Abyss

2007-04-02T10:32:00.001-07:00

Who Is Sirsi Corporation?

2007-03-30T13:51:00.000-07:00

...

2007-03-29T11:33:00.000-07:00

Go Canada!

2007-03-16T22:21:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to say that the top six point-getters in the NHL are all Canadian.

300 - I went and saw the movie on Thursday. It was fantastic, if you like blood and killing and lots of action.

I can finally watch David Spade's Showbiz Show. Damn it's funny. Damn.

I noticed not as many people are blogging as often as they used to, including me. Is the fad coming to an end? Is blogging nothing better than the hula hoop or a slinky?

dane out.

Poor Joel

2007-02-27T20:25:00.000-08:00

In the past couple weeks, I've been in numerous public washrooms. I'm noticing that more and more establishments are putting up dividers in between the urinals.

I thought about this for some time. I pondered hard. Why would they do that?

I figured it out. It was to keep people, like Joel, from initiating an "accidental" sword fight.

There. I've picked on Joel for this month. The quota has been met. I have another month to live.

My bank rocks!

I went to the bank today. Several signs were stuck to the door. I'd just like to let everyone know that my bank has a "theft prevention system" in place.

I wanted to walk right in, head straight to the teller, give him a high five and a big "fuck yeah!"

I doubt there's another bank in the world with a theft prevention system. Would-be robbers walk up to the door, pull the pantyhose over their heads, draw their guns and then stop. They read the sign and quickly turn around. The system could include some sort of video-recording equipment or possibly a security guard.

I always wondered where my service charges were going. Now, I know.

Items of note in my life:

I'm becoming the kitchen manager at work.

I was on the edge of a brawl at work. I watched as a group of drunks beat the crap out of each other. The cops were brought in. The cause of the fight was a girl. She was spitting on people.

In the past month, I've been to four flames games, two concerts and several movies.

I was in the Molson suite for one of the Flames games. I had free food, free beer and the best seats ever. Calgary won too.

I'm heading to Lake Louise for the Kokanee Free ride.

I've scored a goal in every ball hockey game this season except one. We've played more than 10 games already. We haven't been winning too many, but it's sure fun to score. Eh Joel?

I'm taking a night course at SAIT. I've now attended all three of the major post-secondary institutions in Calgary.

23 is a great movie. Pan's Labyrinth is cool. Hollywoodland is crap. I don't care if it's about Superman. It blew.

The bedroom secrets of the master chefs is my least favorite book by Irvine Welsh. It wasn't bad, but no where near as good as the others.

I'm thinking that's about all that I've been up to.

Will Sinclair High School Rules!

Are You Being Served?

2007-02-10T20:00:00.000-08:00

Man, I hate Denny's. I hate the lack of service there, I hate the fact that their pre-packaged reheat and serve food takes so long to make, but you wanna know what I hate most of all? The fact that it's practically the only restaurant in the area. I mean, there's a Brewsters six blocks down, but tacked on to the 13 blocks I have to walk to get to the theatre... nah, I ain't walkin' that far. Of course, as I'm bitching about this I just remembered the nearby Red Robin... well then!

I've always had conflicted feelings bitching about service, especially in the job climate here. Because everything's so on fire, most of the service-oriented places are having a hard time finding staff. It's so bad that some places are being forced to cut the amount of hours that they're open. Naturally, this has put a lot of people out of sorts.

My one hope from all of this is that people would start to examine their own perceptions of the service industry and hopefully start to remedy them. After all, nobody has to work in the service industry now unless they want to. And why would they want to, really? Why work a low-paying job that's universally looked down on?

I hate to keep bringing this up, but look at dear ol' Dane's situation. He left his sports editor gig to go work kitchen in Calgary, his old stomping ground. The most interesting wrinkle of all this is that working kitchen pays $3 more an hour than covering sports, and that's not even considering the tip-out. However, just examine your own early reaction to finding out Dane's new choice of job. Even though it does make financial sense, did it make any other sense to you? Sports editor is a job you can feel proud introducing yourself as doing at a party. I really don't think it works as well for being kitchen staff.

So ideally, people would have recognized this and thought, "Wow! Waitresses and clerks and other help staff do make our lives easier! Maybe we should start treating them as proud members of the workforce instead of as stupid peons who aren't good enough to find REAL jobs." Do you think this has happened? Well, of course not. The most common reaction I hear is "Why are people so lazy? There's all these jobs open and nobody wants to work them! Tsk tsk, such a sad state, the youth of today..." So then they expect that people from other provinces are going to come to fill in the gaps. I'm sorry, but if I was going to uproot myself and say goodbye to my friends and family, I'd be doing it for a lot more than a job at fucking McDonalds.

Now who wants ice cream?

Vox Unpopulari

2007-02-04T10:09:00.000-08:00

Guess what, boys and girls? I've decided to undertake the opening of a new blog. Finally! You guys yell out to the heavens. Here's the URL if you just can't wait:

http://superfuntime.vox.com

I wonder if Dane will be assed-out at my choice of URL? Ah well.

However, this will be a different kind of blog. I've decided to dip my toes in the river of MEDIA REVIEWING! Except they won't be reviews, necessarily. It'll just be me launching into huge blather-fests about the themes and other elements of the work in question. Very stream-of-consciousness and free association. Besides, I've never made a recommendation that worked out, unfortunately, so there will be precious little of that. Oh, and I'll be exploiting the Question of the Day feature they have over at Vox until it runs out of novelty appeal.

So I'll still be here, of course. I'm a hugely co-dependent blogger. It would just be too weird to have me launch into "reviews" over here. It might piss off Dane or something.

Yay!

I Went To Ninja School To Learn How To Murder You

2007-01-29T22:21:00.000-08:00

Hey, I'm back. I bought new mittens. So I guess I have to figure out what to do with all the yarn that Dane's been sending me the past few weeks. Maybe I'll use it as "padding" the next time I'm out tomcatting. Tom O'Malley gots nothin' on me.

So... now what? I dunno, when you come back from not blogging for a while you don't want to start posting all the 'A' material right at the beginning. Ya wanna wait for yer readers to catch up with ya before ya start tossin' out the pearls! Like the post where I imagined Dane and I were old Newfies for no particular reason whatsoever. The best part was that I got that picture from a extreme right-wing militia site! It's a good thing the only person who still has their full image on the site is Dane, eh? Best watch out for them firebombs, my chef-ly friend...

Pondering switching the site over to the New Blogger...

Anyway, I've been getting back into the music "scene" and I've heard a band y'all likely might get a kick out of. They're called Woodpigeon and they're based out of Calgary. I've heard comparisons to Sufjan Stevens, but seeing as the only track of his I've heard is Chicago, I don't know how apt of a comparison it is. (Note: An instrumental version of Chicago is played over the first moments in the van in Little Miss Sunshine.) However, they have songs called Death by Ninja (A Love Song) and A Sad Country Ballad for A Tired Superhero. And with that, Dane's on board!

Like any hip band, they have a MySpace.

Go to their official site and download a free EP! You cheap bastards, you.

Or you can buy their album on iTunes, alternatively. Obviously, the most savvy choice.

Man, pimpin' ain't easy.

I wonder?

2007-01-13T00:24:00.000-08:00

In the moments before I nearly took off my own thumb, I had a blackout. I remember chopping romaine lettuce like I do every morning, then I go blank. The next memory I have is me, crying and holding my thumb. Damn it hurt.

Later that night, I began to wonder. What happened in those brief seconds that elude me? I think I know. It was all Joel. He used his mind control on me.

Why would he do this?

It's because I have his mittens.

I wouldn't try using your amazing mind control ability on me again, Joel. I'm now holding your wooly hand garments hostage. You should be receiving a strand of string in the mail any day now. I'll be sending another each week until you meet my demands.

The list:
1. Admit Pulp is the best band ever!
2. Wear a towel around your neck like a cape for one full day and pretend to fly from class to class.
3. Challenge two people to a hop-scotch tournament. Grid must have at least twelve squares.
4. Make some girl watch every episode of Invader Zim.
5. Don't talk about David Cross for 15 minutes straight.

That's it for now. I'll be watching to make sure the tasks get completed.

Bad day at the office.

2007-01-07T00:08:00.000-08:00

Today at work, I got into a knife fight.

With myself.

I damn near took the tip of my thumb clean off.

It hurt and now I have one blue band-aid and one yellow band-aid on my thumb.

I look queer, but, at least, there's no more blood squirting everywhere.

I'd also like to give a shout out to the person who thought to put a yellow light in between the red and green. Those brief seconds reduce the number of accidents by infinity. Good job!

Who saw the Seahawks game tonight? Holy crap, it was amazing. Go Hawks. You rock!

I went to the Pursuit of Happyness on Friday night. It was good if you like super sad movies.

It's amazing!

2006-12-22T21:06:00.000-08:00

Today is the greatest day of my life,
and I've never felt this way before,
and I swear it's the truth...

Finally, I wrote Joel an e-mail and he responded in a timely manner. Wow!

Other news: I believe one of my roommates is using my liquid laundry soap. To find out if this is true, I've added bleach to the detergent. Soon, I'll find out if my hunch was correct.

Now, it's back to my life.

We're 2Cool

2006-12-14T22:40:00.000-08:00

If Dane's not gonna post, then I'll just have to post an IM conversation to make up for it.

Dane says:
man, your music sucks
Joel says:
Such unbridled jealousy you display! Whatsamatter, you wear out your Dropkick Murpheys album
Dane says:
no way. I pull it out for special moments
Joel says:
Do you tape yourself singing and play it when you're making love
Dane says:
no. It's all flogging molly during sex
Joel says:
That's sad.
Dane says:
sad that I'm having sex
Joel says:
Because it would be way cool if you were getting romantic to you singing "Everything I Do I Do It For You". Girls think that's really awesome
Dane says:
super
Joel says:
You're totally doing it now. You're practicing your soulful serenading
Dane says:
Maybe you should give me a copy of your sex mix
Joel says:
No, you have to make your own. A sex mix is a man's sacred trust. He may never share it except with the lucky ladies
Dane says:
two at a time
Joel says:
Is there karaoke at Lou's (the restaurant Dane works at)? Cause if there is watch out
Dane says:
no singing at lou's
Joel says:
Is that Lou's decree? How about humming
Dane says:
hell no. it's not a gay bar. damn it Joel. With a capital J
Joel says:
How about a lesbian bar. Or a bisexual bar. or a questioning bar. Apparently it isn't GBLT anymore, it's GBLTQ. Even the questioning have been coopted
Dane says:
actually it's more of a gay bar. All those Sait (Southern Alberta Institute of Technology) students. there's so many guys
Joel says:
Do you point that out to them
Dane says:
yeah, but then they hit on me
Joel says:
I'd say you'd have to flex but that might encourage them
Dane says:
it does. They're trying to get me to cook topless. I said no
Joel says:
That's what you get for being ripped and having skin like leather from all the fights you've been in. I remember in Calgary there were always cagematches in the basement. You and Rodriguez would duel till first blood. After a few months of matches Rodriguez would punch himself in the nose just to get the hell out of there
Dane says:
that's lionheart.
Joel says:
Just first blood in Lionheart? That's lame, Van Damme probably didn't get the chance to break out the splits. No wonder no one remembers that movie besides you
Dane says:
you're lame, it was great. he fought a guy in a pool. Good stuff
Joel says:
It was and don't you forget it. You keep trying, but dammit you won't, or you'll get one hell of an indian burn
Dane says:
is that the same as a snake bite
Joel says:
I think so
Dane says:
cool, have you ever seen an indian wrestle a snake
Joel says:
Yeah, the indian totally lost. The snake stole his woman and bag of chips
Dane says:
didn't they just steal each other's moves
Joel says:
I've never seen an indian cry so much. But they were Doritos, so I can see why it affected him so much. They're hard to find
Dane says:
I like chips. lays are good
Joel says:
So you probably understand what the poor guy was going through. damn snake
Dane says:
I feel his pain
Joel says:
do you really? Just because that guy stole your eggo, he wouldn't leggo
Dane says:
i should smack you for bringing that up. You know it's a sensitive subject
Joel says:
I forgot you're a sensitive lad, you're probably crying at the gorgeous constellations
Dane says:
I'm painting a picture of flowers, while watching soft lesbian porn
Joel says:
Porno for lesbians, or porn with lesbians in it? Because there's a difference, you know
Dane says:
I'm glad you know that joel. Was that a lesson in your class about giving library services to kids
Joel says:
You have to know the ins and outs of gay porno to help subvert the youth. Library technicians are actually a terrorist sleeper cell. We erode moral values, why do you think librarians are always gassing on about intellectual freedom
Dane says:
perverts. you and your gay porn
Joel says:
No no, US and OUR gay porn, it's a group effort
Dane says:
group gay porn. atta boy
Joel says:
We shoulda stopped after the first donkey scene, but we were on a roll
Dane says:
you just went too far Joel. I knew there was a reason I hated librarians
Dane says:
It's bedtime Joel

And so, Dane went to bed. The End.

Bond Plans a Vacation

2006-12-09T22:30:00.000-08:00

As it was or will be for the rest of you, it was only a matter of time until I uploaded my first Youtube video. One of my group projects this term was to make an instructional session. We chose to do ours on travel, and the results can be seen below. Come watch my stunning turn as the new Q!

There originally was an intro sequence where Bond gets chewed out by M and told to take a vacation. However, the audio was out-of-sync with the video in that section and it had to be acted out live in front of the class. I played the part of M and got to break out my atrocious Queen Mum accent. Also, the sections marked Pause are where the video was stopped and a member of the group elaborated further.

If you'd rather watch it on the YouTube site itself, here's a direct link.

So as of this moment, feel proud! You now officially know someone who's made an ass of himself on YouTube.

Joel Ruins Thanksgiving and Christmas (And Easter If Your Family Was Weird)

2006-12-08T19:56:00.000-08:00

I was listening to a podcast about Food, Ethics and the Environment when I heard something so stunning, so flat-out ridiculous that naturally I had to stop the podcast and tell whoever's stalking the hell out of Dane. Seriously, according to the site statistics there's somebody doing a Google search for "aaron dane lutz" twice a day and finding this site. I believe there's something called the bookmark function that many web browsers are capable of, and this might be something that the stalker might wanna look into.

(Sorry, Dane, if I can't get a stalker than I have no choice but to be rude to yours.)

Anyways, during this podcast lecture I found out that turkeys at most turkey farms can't mate naturally anymore. The breasts on the average male turkey are just too large! This has nothing to with disgust on part of the female turkey (but who could blame them) but more to do with the act itself just not being physically possible.

How is this circumvented? Well, some poor sap has to... obtain samples of the male turkey's bastings and artifically inseminate the female.

Dwell on this for a moment.

Naturally, there's the whole animal rights side of the issue that can't just be brushed away, but I'm really quite terrible at guilt trips, so I'm not going to go there. Besides, that's what sites like these are for! Rather, I want you to focus on one fact. Think of that plump, juicy Christmas bird on your holiday table. It's the scene where so many family memories--cherished or no--are created, and one of the few heartwarming cultural touchstones that many families on our continent share. Consider that to create this scene, somebody had to masturbate a turkey with freakishly huge breasts to orgasm and inject the results into another turkey.

Now THAT'S comedy.

Radio Free CRACKED

2006-12-03T01:03:00.000-08:00

Well, this is less of a real post and more of a way to send Dane a cool link without having to e-mail him. My inner circle know that it's easier to get fifty bucks out of me than an e-mail, so here you go.

Anyways, Cracked Magazine, the long-suffering Jan to Mad's Marsha Brady, has relaunched, but surprisingly, it's now funny to people over 12 years of age. That's not the important part though. I'm just here to tell Dane that they have a free net radio station that broadcasts stand-up comedy by just about all of the major stars, including Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce, Jerry Seinfeld, David Cross, Mitch Hedberg and George Carlin. Dane Cook's in there, too, but the jury's still out on him.

Why am I telling Dane this? Well, seeing as he's one of the only people I know who would willingly watch that insipid Comedy at Club 54, I figure he might benefit from listening to some good stand-up comedy for once.

The URL? Hey, look! -> radio.cracked.com

Man, I feel dirty.

The Cinematic Apex

2006-12-02T12:51:00.000-08:00

Pundits are prolly beginning to wax fantastic on the Oscar candidates, seeing as it's the end of the year and all, but I'd like to introduce you to the major Oscar winner of 2008.

I realize it's a tad foolhardy to throw all of my support behind a film that's not even finished filming yet, but as soon as I read the plot summary I just knew. I knew that the epic scope and compelling story presented therein will bring us a film that makes Gone With The Wind look like Failure to Launch. Even if some complete hack was assigned to direct and the cast was made up of the actors from 7th Heaven, the resulting film could be nothing short than a masterpiece. What is this masterful odyssey, soon to replace the Odyssey as the literary odyssey that odyssey-minded folk take on their odyssey to learn?

Outlander...

OUTLANDER!!!

Say it loud, and there's music playing! Say it soft, and it's just like praying.

Yes, Outlander. The movie where Vikings team up with Jesus to kill a blood-thirsty and nigh-invincible alien beast.

Mark the day you read this, my friend. When you regale your puplings and the tears of joy eked out by golden nostalgia trickle down your cheek, well, all of existence will have seemed worth it, won't it?

Tightcollar U

2006-11-29T12:26:00.000-08:00

Yet another illusion about the world has been shattered! I was under the impression that the post-secondary experience was supposed to be chock full of youthful exuberance. I guess I've been mistaken about that, if you take the displays and booths that are on display in the quad of my college into consideration.

This year I have a seen:

A book sale where the only books were either for young children or soccer moms.
A sad, lonely and mustached man giving away free copies of The New Testament.
A booth extolling the benefits of Costco membership.

However, the booth I saw today took the cake.

Freedom 55.

Freedom Freakin' 55!

What the hell is an organization that pushes financial security plans doing on the floor of a place that's supposed to be a healthy hotbed of hedonism? Where the hell are the folks pushing contraceptives? People advertising raging keggers? Goddamn, the paradigm keeps shifting on me. Am I going to see a Perry Como impersonator warbling in the halls soon?

Damn, this college is square.

Harmony of Man

2006-11-29T09:19:00.000-08:00

A quote from a previous post that made me snigger:

Lollipop, my lollipop
Fell under the fridge
Now I cannot eat
But I guess
I can give it
To Dane
splash

Good lord, I'm awesome.

Well, relations between races might be reaching yet another low, but I read something the other day that gave me hope. I haven't found anything that illuminates the equality of men more than this. No sad cliches and no platitudes you might find on the wall of a dizzy kindergarten teacher. Here's a snippet from Naguib Mahfouz's book Palace Walk, which is set in Egypt.

"O God, may this street never end. May this dancing movement never cease. What a royal rump combining both arrogance and graciousness. A wretch like me can almost feel its softness and its firmness both, merely by looking. This wonderful crack separating the two halves--you can almost hear the cloth covering it talk about it."

Booty: The Great Equalizer.

Two Solitudes II: Solitude Harder

2006-11-21T21:21:00.000-08:00

Due to my ever-increasing obsession with languages, I've taken up watching the French channel that comes with the meagre selection on my television. One thing that many people aren't aware of is that the media culture of Quebec (where this channel broadcasts from) is sort of... different from that of the rest of the Canada. Just another example of the infamous Two Solitudes, I suppose. An example of this would be Doc Mailloux, who I was introduced to barely an hour ago but already has both utterly repulsed and fascinated me.

I was farting around on the computer when I heard some particularly animated arguing on the television behind me. I turned around to see a fellow with an equal amount of grey curls on his head and chin glance smugly while the person sitting beside him preceded to berate the host of the program. The caption below read:

Doc Mailloux Raciste?
Le psychiatre et son ami noir s'expliquent

Which roughly translates to:

Is Doc Mailloux Racist?
The psychiatrist and his black friend explain themselves

Well, damn! They're right! His friend WAS black! It's a good thing they mentioned it in the title otherwise I might never have noticed. This odd titling would be post worthy by itself, but I decided to dig a bit deeper.

Apparently, this Doc Mailloux is the Dr. Phil of Quebec, in the sense that he's a psychiatrist with a bewildering amount of media presence. That's sort of where the comparisons end. According to the soon-to-be-reverted edit to the Dr. Phil Wikipedia article:

Phillip Calvin "Phil" McGraw is Oprah Winfrey's personal slave. He dusts her furniture in a man thong and pink apron. He has a sever inferiority complex, and attempts to make himself feel better by making fun of fat women or people with terrible lives.

(The joys of Wikipedia, ladies and gentlemen.)

But despite such things, at least Ol' Phil has never let loose verbal chestnuts like this:

Doc Mailloux said that [translation]: "Miss Jackson, like her brother Michael, exhibits unacceptable conduct, and this is typical of African or Black people, who do not know how to behave even though they left Africa many years ago." [...]

He also says, among other things, [translation] "they don’t know how to live! They live like an African tribe. You know, in Africa, when you want to shake your crotch, you do it." The host, Mr. Arcand, tries to temper these statements by saying that he thinks this behaviour is part of show business, and it is not about Africa. Doc Mailloux reacts by asking, [translation] "Would a civilized White do that?" When Mr. Arcand gives the example of Madonna and Britney Spears kissing during a program, Doc Mailloux replies that the singers kissed to demonstrate their affection.

Doc Mailloux: NOT A RACIST.

Normally, somebody making statements like this would be relegated to the gutters of AM radio. But this fellow has such an inexplicable presence in Quebec that apparently the Conservative Party of Canada courted him during the past election. This would be the Conservative Party that is the leader of the national government at the current moment, you Not!Canadians out there, not some fringe party.

*goes off to get drunk*

You Guessed 'Er, Chester!

2006-11-15T11:00:00.000-08:00

Okay, this post is mostly an excuse to use that title, which you have to admit, rocks like no other. But while you're here, I suppose I should give you an update.

Dane

Working at Loco Lous, a restaurant in Calgary, making more than he did working at a newspaper in North Battleford. One could make a comment on the current state of the job market when a burger-slinger makes more than an agent of the press, but luckily, that one is not me.
Goes to see the strippers. A lot. Seriously, that's why he hasn't been posting more often. It's inevitable that this blog is going to deteriorate into an immoral cesspool; there's no need to rush things.

Joel

Got an A- in Business Communications, and has no desire to write another fucking memo in his life.
Puppet show is underway for a Nov. 28 performance. The show? Starsky and Hutch for kids. Seriously. Huggy Bear is being played by a teddy bear.
Taken up a passing interest in Danish, due to my 1/4 Danish heritage. So! Languages studied at one point or another are French, Spanish, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, Dutch, Danish, and Arabic. If I'd gotten past the "greetings" stage in any of them this would be much more impressive.

สวัสดีครับ
sa-wat-dii khrap

Manzanas

2006-11-14T12:06:00.000-08:00

No, we're not actually dead. If anybody was wondering. Just... you know, thought I'd put that out there.

splash

Happy Daneday!

2006-10-23T12:37:00.000-07:00

Hail Dane! Hail Dane! Danehead forever! The politics of never! Hail Dane! Hail Dane!

Today is the leader's birthday! The birthday of the leader! We carve a graven image for him! In the spirit of happiness and feverish sweating we bring it to you so you may grovel about the legend of the 27th birthday of the true owner of the Happy Fun Super Time page! Ah hah hah hah hah!

It's a Daneabration, and everyone's invited! But don't worry if you miss it, because the Magical Daneabration never really ends!

Wait, what?

Mechanical Dane ruined my life

2006-10-18T23:02:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about Joel’s last post. There were only two girls that found Joel unattractive. That’d be a great night for me.

I wonder how many girls left the bar that night wondering why that smokin’ guy in the grey jacket never noticed their smiles and glances, their playful hair tosses and waves. All those depressed girls going home and writing posts on their blog about how they’re hideous and not cool. Joel’s probably turned thousands of ladies into unhappy women who will never leave their apartments because one guy, in a grey jacket, never made a move or even returned a little grin. Just raise your lips. Is that so hard Joel? Huh? Poor ladies.

Damn you by the way. One of those members of the opposite sex could have been my future wife. Why do you hate me so much? Everything you do is part of some grand scheme to make me miserable and my life horrible.

Remember, I had that one date in high school. One date! I could have been a ladies’ man, but no. You built a remote-control robot that looked like me in every way. Then, just before I went to pick her up, you knocked me out with your blackjack and sent mechanical Dane instead. I’m not sure exactly what you did, but there were some nasty stories flying around the school and I never had a romantic outing with any other girl during my impressionable high school years.

I lost what little confidence I had when approaching women. I turn bright red and stutter uncontrollably. I’m the loser not you. And to make matters worse, I don’t have a grey coat. You always have to rub your jacket in my face. “Look at my grey coat Dane! Don’t you like my grey coat? Your coat sucks. You suck. That’s why you’re single, DANE.”

I’m going to go cry. Are there any shoulders out there for me?

New subject

I was thinking about a new TV show. It’ll be the most popular ever and it’s totally original. I call it CSI: Lost. It’s about a group of criminologists who solve murders on an island their plane crashed on. No one from civilized society knows they’re still alive because they flew so far off their planned course during an horrible storm.

The island, which at first looks totally ordinary, will have ridiculous secrets and enough people and murders to keep this show running for ever.

The first episode will show the plane crash. The four main characters will discover a hidden, fully stocked crime lab and will begin to solve the mystery of why the plane crashed and who did it. I’m guessing there will be a molecule of DNA on bolt 6,799,547,223 that will break the case wide open. Of course, the four main characters will be of mixed race and be very attractive.

The show will contain several love triangles, a mysterious guy, pirate treasure, dinosaurs and hobbits for Joel. I’m thinking about giving some of the characters superpowers, but that seems a little far fetched. What do you all think?

Also…

I went and saw The Departed last night. It was a good movie until the end. Marky Mark kills Matt Damon. Yeah, I ruined it for you. Screw you. I don’t even like you. Who told you to read my blog?

I scored four times. Hell yeah!

2006-10-15T23:41:00.000-07:00

I remember sitting at Joel’s apartment in Calgary. It was Joel, Logan, Rob and I and porn was playing on TV. Sometime during the movie watching Logan brought up the subject of size. Joel had the best answer. “Well compared to the porn stars, I’m a bit better than average.” That shut Logan up for the rest of the day. Come to think of it. I don’t think either of us has heard from him since.

I’m going to brag now. I scored four goals in my ball hockey game on Friday. We won 10-2.

I want to know why those retro hockey hats only come in boxes of bud light. Who the hell drinks bud light? What a stupid beer.

I’ll keep this post short, so I can go do some summersaults.

EWWWWWW!!!

2006-10-14T02:26:00.000-07:00

Ha ha ha! So people, seriously, can you tell me why I bother? Huh? On the invitation from somebody in my class, I decided to head out to the bar tonight. Yep, supposedly, fun was apparently to be had. So I get introduced to her friends, and one of them glares at me like I'm the texture of dried shit, then turns away immediately. Oh well, right? I mean, you can't please everybody, huh?

The bar closes. I make sure my friends are able to head home, and I begin the long trek back to my place. So I'm waiting at an intersection and a vehicle pulls up with a bunch of girls going WOOOOOO! One of the fellas says "So, do you want me bring this guy in the grey coat or what?" And of course, that would be me, the only guy nearby wearing a grey coat. The response? "EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!" Oh yes, I feel pretty, oh so pretty. Am I really that repugnant? Am I really that disgusting? Crikeys, perhaps it would be for the best if I underwent some chemical castration of some kind. That way I would no longer be beholden to the female species for happiness and fulfillment. Perhaps... perhaps that's the only way I could find some peace. Yes, I'm just so fond of being the EWWWWWWWWW! and GROOOOOSSSS!!! guy. I mean really, what kind of satisfaction in life does one need beyond that? Knowing that all these people see me and go "Wow! It could be worse!" before they go home and hump their frat boy/glamour girl of the night. When I was younger I used to joke that my purpose in life was to serve as a bad example. Cripes! Who knew it would turn out to be true? Ha ha! HA HA HA!!! Naturally, the natural response to this was to buy a couple of cigars. Am I still a non-smoker? Hell, we'll see tomorrow.

Edited on October 14th: Yep, I still am. Damn, grape flavoured cigars suck. And I'm a bit of a whiny little turd when I drink, aren't I?

Punish You

2006-10-13T21:34:00.000-07:00

I was going to do a "tipsy post" but I decided this much more awesome. See if you agree! And thanks for not commenting on my birthday post, cool guys. Dane wrote it, so there's no problem with him, but what the hell's the matter with the rest of you? Cripes! Dane, it's time for some rabbit punches and piledrivers...