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Showing posts from November, 2004

You're married, not dead...

She Ain't Pretty, She Just Looks That Way....
--The Northern Pikes

I've probably heard it, or a variant of it, fifty times since I exchanged vows with my wife. And it's yet another in a seemingly neverending series of things that I'll never quite understand.
It's spoken in a tone of patient exasperation mixed with incredulous wonder: the kind of tone you'd expect to hear directed at a moronic extraterrestrial. You'd think I'd be used to that tone by now. Unfortunately, it's another in a seemingly neverending series of things I'll never get used to.
There are an awful lot of men in this world who get a rise, figurative and literal, out of looking at pretty women. Which is all well and good and to be expected, I suppose. But they always have to spread the cheer. "Would you look at that?" "Check out the tits on her!" "Whew, don't you want to take her home and give her a tour of the ceiling?"
Well, I didn't see her,…

Pssst...wanna hear some secrets?

The price of gas is sitting at 68.5 cents a litre here today.
And you'd think it was free, the way people are lining up to get it.
Now, granted, I haven't seen gas at this price for a couple of years at least. And I also know--as does everyone else, apparently--that tomorrow's price is very likely to be ten cents a litre higher. It always goes up Monday night here; it's axiomatic.
But as usual, I don't get it.
Okay, let's do the math together. The average fill-up (I know this from my days working at a gas station) is about 30 liters. That means a $3.00 saving if you fill up tonight versus tomorrow. But you've got to wait fifteen minutes to fill up if you do it tonight.
How much is your time worth? Mine's worth a lot more that $12.00 an hour.
(Caveat: if you have an SUV sitting on dead-nuts empty, you can put in 120 liters and save yourself $12.00. Then again, if you're driving an SUV around the Greater Toronto Area, and you bought it, and it's y…

Welcome to today's Breadbin.

The special for this evening is whole roasted aardvark. Unfortunately, we ran out of forks an hour ago, so patrons will have to eat with their fingers.

A little potpourri for the day, beginning with some questions...

WHY is the cursor on the Blog entry screen usually about three spaces to the right of where it should be?WHY do my pants still try to slither down my legs no matter how tightly I cinch my belt? Am I the only human being shaped this way?WHY are so many people not content to live in harmony with whatever their vision of God may be, but instead want to jam their God down my throat so I choke?After all these years and Public Service Announcements, WHY does anyone start smoking?Then again, if smoking is so addictive, how is it that many people only smoke in bars?If stock prices always go up when companies merge, and also go up whenever layoffs are announced, shouldn't one company make everything and employ nobody but machines?Apparantly, 26% of Canadians own more than one …

Parrish the thought!

For all the bitterness dividing Paul Martin from his predecessor, Jean Chretien, the two do share some political traits. One is the ability to do the right thing for entirely the wrong reasons. Another is an absolute insistance on party loyalty., meaning, specifically, loyalty to the Leader. Both came into play in l'affaire Parrish.
History will record that maverick Liberal MP Carolyn Parrish was exiled from caucus on this day, after over a year's worth of intermittent sniping at Americans. Here is a woman who has developed an appetite for her own feet. Her bons mots of note: "Damn Americans, I hate those bastards"; those in Iraq were "the coalition of the idiots" ; George Bush is a "stupid, stupid man" and a "warlike" man to boot. History might further record that the last straw came when Parrish, in a taping of This Hour Has 22 Minutes, stomped on a George Bush doll.
History would be wrong.
Paul Martin was all ready to accept Parrish&…

Let's talk about sex...

Okay, now I have to go see this movie, Kinsey.
Dr. Laura is calling for a boycott. So that means this movie is required viewing.
Various right-wing and fundamentalist groups are trying to make Kinsey the next touchstone in the cultural wars.Supposedly this movie is a boon to the 'homosexual movment' (because Kinsey was reputed to be bisexual) and a goldmine for the 'pedophile movement' (because Kinsey dared to ask children about their sexuality). Who knew there was such a thing as a pedophile movement? Sounds like something a bunch of Bush voters dreamed up.
Kinsey, for those who don't know, published a couple of landmark studies in sexuality, one in 1948 concerning men and one in 1953 concerning women. Among his findings: ten percent of men are gay, and half are at least somewhat bisexual; nearly all men masturbate; extramarital affairs were remarkably common. On women, Kinsey noted that a vast majority of those who had acheived orgasm had done so solely through se…

So long Dory, we hardly knew ye

Dory, our resident squirrel, hellraiser and B.B.-baiter, is off to a (hopefully) happier home.
God knows this one didn't work out.
Streak was mostly neutral on Dory. She'd hiss and growl only if the kitten approached her wanting to play, but would avoid her the rest of the time. B.B, on the other hand, actively stalked her, no fooling around. At least once a day (or more likely, once a night) we'd be treated to the aural spectacle of two cats having a melee. Imagine, in your mind's ear, a 78 rpm recording of ten kittens being stepped on, played at 33 1/2. That's been our house for the last little while.
At the very first, B.B reacted very badly to the new kitten. After a couple of days, though, you could see her trying to make friends. Unfortunately, she'd made a piss-poor first impression and Dory was having none of it. So B.B. figured 'okay, this cat hates me, I can hate it too'. Cue the yowling hissyfits.
For some reason, it mortally offended B.B. to…

Ups and Downs

Last night, we went and visited Eva's friend Lisa, her husband Craig, and their little boy, Jake. They live in uptown Waterloo. If my childhood spent slogging through house after house is any guide, theirs was built around the turn of the last century, and it's positively gorgeous.
I got to revisit my own childhood there. They just got a piano, an upright about the age of the house, fairly similar to one that used to be mine. I played half of a tune on it and realized right quick that I will never own another piano.
The proper term for the instrument is 'pianoforte', meaning 'soft-loud', but really they ought to call the things 'forte-fortes', because--and here's something I forgot--it's damn near impossible to play one quietly...or at least at the volume I normally play my electronic keyboard.
I'm okay with this. Eventually I will get a full size electric piano...with a headphone jack.
Craig dragged out some of his old Hot Wheels to go with J…

In Slander's Fields

The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month...
At work today, I was asked to read a short speech over our public address system prior to our two minutes of silence. I did this from the manager's office, which has a window overlooking the store, as well as a TV screen showing camera views from all over. So I was able to observe customers observing the pause in their day. Or not.
Actually, this year, it seemed a higher proportion of people were silent, immobile, respectful. That's not to say the store was as quiet as the grave; far from it. I saw for myself that several people continued to shop and I was told later that several conversed with each other. But all in all, it was better than last year.
Last year I was near a cash register when the two minutes of silence were announced, and the reaction from thosee around me startled and disgusted me. There were loud sighs, and one individual actually berated a cashier for not ringing his order through.We all glared at him, sile…

What was that curse again?

Ah, yes, that was it. "May you live in interesting times."

Anyone care to take a few things off my plate?

Let's see. This week we have the dreaded "Loonie and Toonie" sale going at work. (Aside: I hate that word 'toonie'. Stupid made-up word. Why can't we call it a 'doubloon'? It looks like one, and it's a double-loon. Anyway...)

These loonie-toonie ads are crazy. Last Saturday our store was bursting at the seams, setting a record for both customer count and sales volume. Thank heaven for small mercies, at least this time they didn't put every third item in the frozen department on sale. Last time we ran one of these, we had Eggo Waffles for $1 (regular retail: $2.17). If I had filled my walk-in freezer from front to back, wall to wall and floor to ceiling with Eggos, I still would have ran out. But I couldn't do that because Polar Novelties were on sale. So were McCain hashbrowns. So were Swanson Dinners. And frozen struesel cakes…

Going Moldy....

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