Goodwill

Every once in a while Goodwill distributes bags in the mail with a note asking you to fill the bag and leave it on your porch on a specific day. In my neighbourhood it happened this week, which was a godsend because I missed garbage day last week.

I filled the bag, left it on the porch and went about my daily business, which includes 1000 pushups, pullups and crunches each morning. Sorry, typo, I meant to say, eating Froot Loops and drumming Flight of the Bumblebee on my stomach.

A little after 3pm I noticed the Goodwill bag was still on the porch so I gave them a call.

Me: Hi, I left a bag for you guys on my porch and I guess it was missed.

GW Rep: It wasn't missed sir, they're only halfway completed the run so far.

Me: Oh, I'm terribly sorry. It's just that the notice said to give you a call after 3pm if any bags were missed. I naturally assumed that you would have had the commonsense to schedule the run so that it would be completed before the time stated on the notice. Instead, you decide to have people call you halfway through the run to ensure that everyone gets to waste a little bit of time today.

GW Rep: Are you the ass clown who left a bag of garbage for us last year?

Me: (click).

It's Been a Long Time

I haven't posted anything for a while but there's a very good reason for it; I'm incredibly lazy and I'm a bit of (a complete) dickhead.

Kirk Cameron is a complete idiot. I know, I know, harsh words for a formerly beloved 80s sitcom star but this guy is just off the charts moronic. Kirk is now a Christian minister who is trying to convince the world that evolution is a myth. His "proof" that evolution is a myth is a photoshopped picture of a duck with the head of a crocodile. He states that if evolution were true we should have seen crocoducks around, which is a stupid name anyway, they'd obviously be called duckodiles.

Being a minister Kirk is making an effort to steer people away from atheism however he fails to realize that a belief in scientific fact (evolution) does not automatically equate to atheism. There are many people who believe in evolution but also have a strong belief in god, I think the pope is one of them. There are probably not as many who don't believe in either though;

"Evolution's a crock."
"Oh, you believe in a benevolent being who created everything in 6 days just by saying 'let there be . . .'"
"Oh no, no, no , no ,no - I'm an atheist."
"Then how do you think we all got here?"
"On rainbow coloured unicorns bred by magical leprechauns in an underground fudge factory."
"I'm going to go stand over there now."

Kirk's partner in the ministry is Ray Comfort. Ray looks like a man who would perform weddings at the Shotgun Chapel in beautiful Las Vegas.

Ray is known as the "Banana Man", not only because he is cuckoo bananas but because he once expounded a theory that, because of the following reasons, the banana is proof that god designed the world:

1. Is shaped for the human hand
2. Has a non-slip surface
3. Has outward indicators of inward content (i.e., colour indicates ripeness)
4. Has a tab for easy removal of its wrapper
5. Is perforated on the wrapper for easy peeling
6. Has a biodegradable wrapper
7. Is shaped for the human mouth
8. Is pleasing to the taste buds
9. Is curved towards the face to make the eating process easy

This kind of argument enrages me so much that my eyes bleed. Yes, the banana does fit nicely into the human hand but I think there are a couple of other fruits that aren't so convenient, like the watermelon. And speaking of easy peeling let's talk about the pomegranate; there's nothing I like better than spending a day and a half digging a handful of seeds out of a tough as leather rind. Finally, have you ever seen a durian? These things are as easy to peel as a hedgehog and smell like somebody vomited bleach on a bag of rotting onions. If god is using his infinite power to design fruit he really jerked us around with the durian.

I'm not entirely convinced by point nine either; I've had some bananas that curved away from my face when eating them. I pulled a neck muscle trying to take the first bite.

Hey Comfort, if you think the banana is shaped for the human mouth I've got something else that you may enjoy.

What Kind of a Library Is This?

Michael Ian Black's hilarious book "My Custom Van" was recently released in paperback format. I did a search at the library because even though I love the book I wasn't willing to part with $15.96 to buy it from Chapters.

The library does not currently carry the book but I did come across some rather disturbing titles.

For example, "My Daday is a Giant Korean". Perhaps your father is taller than average size and of Korean descent but I still don't think it's right to call him a giant Korean.

I then thought, if that's the kind of books they publish about daddies, what kind of insulting trash are they printing about mommies. This poor, poor kid. His mom travels a lot, she makes money and now she's having a baby. Is it just me or does mommy sound like a hooker?

Children often make claims that their relatives are stronger, smarter, make more money or are just generally better than another child's but I think these two books take it a little too far.

"Umm, my grandpa died today."

"Oh yeah, well my grandpa is amazing."

"Touche"

Most disturbing of all though is My Grandmother's Erotic Folktales.

"Yes grandma we've heard about little red riding hood. Yes, she rode that wolf long and hard. Mm hmm, yes and how Goldilocks found the baby bear just right. C'mon grandma, there's no such folk tale as "Johnny Happypants and his Electric Penis"".

While there may be no Johnny Happypants there are some questionable folk tale titles. I give you a sampling below.

• An Unusual Ride
• Fair, Brown, and Trembling
• Mister Rabbit Nibbles Up the Butter
• Nine Children at One Time
• The Clergyman and the Dwarfs
• The Hand of Glory
• The Stonemason Who Was Never Satisfied
• The Story of Hok Lee and the Dwarfs
• The Tale of the Butter Tub
• The Tiger King's Skin Cloak
• The Emperor's Daughter in the Pig Stall
• A Young Monk Wanted to Have a Goose
• Of the Woman Who Loved a Serpent Who Lived in a Lake
• The Cobbler and His Three Daughters
• The Miller, His Son, and the Ass

St. Thomas, Ontario

Yesterday I went to St. Thomas, the "Railway Capital of Canada" as their slogan states. Circus aficionados may know the town better as the "Elephant Killer Capital of Canada".

On September 15, 1885 an "unscheduled" freight train hit and killed Jumbo the elephant, star of P.T. Barnum's circus. Did the people of St. Thomas try and cover up this shameful event in their history? No, in fact they've exploited it.


Shortly after Jumbo's death citizens of St. Thomas gather around the pachyderm for a photo opportunity. Sick bastards.

My first stop was the tourist office to try and shake information out of them. They were conveniently closed at the time of my arrival which was well outside of their posted hours.

The townspeople are kind enough to offer 1 hour of free parking for tourists. Perhaps in some small way this assuages their guilt but it wasn't enough to buy me off (hey St. Thomas, you might want to throw in a complimentary beverage and a coupon to Boston Pizza).

I imagine most conversations at the tourist office go like this:

Tourist: "What is there to do in this town?"
Granddaughter of elephant killer: "Well, we have our life size statue of Jumbo."
Tourist: "That one that's right outside?"
GEK: "Yes. We also have the Elgin County Railway Museum, but it's closed."
Tourist: "I can still park here for another 59 minutes right."



The Jumbo statue is a sight to behold.



How does such a monumental task as erecting a giant elephant statue get completed? Well it takes teamwork. There were 29 members of Jumbo Centennial Committee and over a hundred donors. Seriously, after 100 hundred years the best 29 people could come up with was to erect a statue. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a better idea on how to honour Jumbo but I would have thought erecting a statue would have sprung to mind pretty quickly.


Despite the Railway Museum being closed I decided to head over anyway.
I think it's bad for business when a museum has a "Do not trespass - Danger" sign.




Another "honour" that the people of St. Thomas have given Jumbo is to name a beer after him. The good folks at Railway City Brewing Company have come out with "Dead Elephant Ale". Catchy name.

Venting

There are some people who believe that everyone was put on earth for a reason. I believe that some people were put here for a reason and that is to irritate the crap out of me until I repeatedly stab them in the face. Others were put here to stare at me malevolently and then shake their head in disgust. I think there's six of them. Disappointingly few people were put on earth to feed me chocolate at all hours of the day.

There is a person at work who has been causing me some distress lately and I've written a little poem to let her know how I feel.

From the moment I saw your
Unblinking, reptilian eyes I knew you were a
Condescending, conniving bully
Know-it-all.
I don't understand why you torture me so.
Never have I met someone who
Goes so far out of their way to cause pain.

But rest assured that my spirit
Is not broken.
Tough on the inside, soft and pudgy on the outside.
Caramel covered bite of
Heaven. Sorry, got carried away. In conclusion, bite my ass.

It's not a good poem but really, is any poem any good.

Fashion & Grooming Tips

I'll preface this entry by saying that I am by no means a fashionista, stylish in any way or even confident wearing button fly jeans (which explains that embarrassing incident at the petting zoo all those years ago). However, if I restricted my opinions only to things I knew something about I wouldn't write at all so here are my tips on how to not look like a disgusting idiot.

1. If you are under the age of 75 and are not Johnny Depp do not wear a fedora. It doesn't make you look hip, it makes you look like a pretentious douche trying awfully hard to look hip. Johnny Depp, of course, can wear anything he damn well pleases.

2. Long hair is fine. Two or three long hairs growing out of a particular body spot is not fine. Look at the picture of the man below. His hair is neatly trimmed, he has shaved within at least the last couple of days, he's angry about something, but that's beside the point. If you focus on the right of the picture, on the lower part of his cheek, you can see hairs, approaching three inches, growing there. How do you shave your face and not notice a tarantula leg growing out the side of it?

Hair hidden by clothes does not give you an excuse to let it grow. You know it's there. The shame should be enough to spur you into action.

3. If you have a ponytail coming out of the top or side of your head and you are not dressed, in a manner that exudes sarcasm, as a ditzy sorority girl, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you might want to consider a career in the field of carnival ride operator.

4. You should only wear something if you find it comfortable, or at the very least, not uncomfortable. I can understand looking like a fool for the sake of comfort. It's the reason we see so many fat, old men and women in velour tracksuits. But to look like an idiot and still have to pull your pants up every 15 seconds? that's just beyond me.

5. If you're ugly don't do everything humanly possible to make yourself uglier. I realize that ugly is a subjective term but if dogs run yelping and children burst into tears when you're around chances are you're not going to be cast in a Motley Crue video anytime soon (yes, that is the universal standard of beauty). In defense of the young "lady" below the piercings may not have been done on purpose but may be the result of someone firing a nail gun at her while screaming "die, horrendous swamp zombie, die."

New Balance

Last weekend I purchased a new pair of waddling shoes. I felt the need to say that they were new just in case you thought I might be purchasing somebody’s used shoes. I believe the actual name of the product is running shoes but let’s face facts, not a whole lot of running is going to be done in this pair. The last time I ran was in 1989 and that’s because the ice cream truck was pulling away while I still had my mouth under the mister softie machine (no, that’s not a euphemism for gay sex).

I went to New Balance because they make very comfortable shoes and I love the enthusiasm of the salespeople. I think it takes a certain personality to work in retail. I did it for several years before landing my cushy job as painting instructor for the blind. Half the time I don’t even give them paint, just let them drag a dry brush across a piece of cardboard and tell them the colours are breathtaking the use of broad strokes is sublime. Never name a specific object because then you’re screwed.

“That’s a beautiful bowl of fruit.”
“It’s a picture of my wife.”
“Nice melons either way.”

The people at New Balance know their shoes and they want to put you in a pair that makes every other shoe you’ve owned feel like a combination of wet burlap and broken glass. First they make you walk so they can see if you’re flat footed, pigeon-toed, high arched, low arched, moderately depressed, drunk, completely without rhythm or living in a low-rise apartment building. They then lovingly select a few pairs like an oenophile (thanks “Word of the Day”) choosing a fine wine. They explain each one and what it offers:

“This one gives superior ankle support.”
“The BC998 makes you feel like anywhere you go, you’re walking in a bouncy castle.”
“This comes with a get out of jail free card and a coupon for a free appetizer at Red Lobster when you buy any entrée.”

The get out of jail free card could come in handy considering my plans for next weekend but I went with the ankle support. There have been occasions, while I’m walking, when my ankle turns inward causing me to go down like I’ve been shot and due to forward momentum I careen inevitably into something either solid or pointy. There is a dent the exact size of my head in a Metro paper box at Church and King that is not a coincidence.