Please Let Me Be Pond Scum

I got angry at a guy this morning who sped up to get in front of me, only to immediately hit his brakes and turn. There was no one behind me and I was travelling about ten KPH over the limit, so he could have easily drifted in behind me and make his turn without accelerating, applying his brakes or pissing me off. I understand that he wouldn’t care if I were angry and probably not that his brakes suffered more use than they should have or he could have saved 1/10,000 of a litre. He did what he had to do, or he wouldn’t be he.

I’m sure I do the same kind of thing and have no idea that the goofy looking four eyed bastard with a beard in the car I just passed, didn’t like the way I was driving. Unless of course the goofy looking four eyed bastard with a beard in the car I just passed happens to be an officer of the law, then there is a possibility that I will find out. There are so many instances in life when you are far more concerned with what you are doing and how you are doing it than what some stranger might think. We aren’t wired to think of others before ourselves. What’s good for me must be good for everyone…right?

I try to think of others and how my actions will affect them. I don’t write anything in the blog that I can’t explain away as my own stupidity and so far I haven’t been punched by any of my friends. So far… I will often play the music someone else likes when they are in my car. Well, not opera or hip-hop and although I do like some marching band music, I would never play it. I often will allow someone else to choose a restaurant, but that is mainly because I either don’t care or don’t know a good option. Hmmmm…maybe I am just a doormat.

Today just before that guy passed me only to turn in front of me, I was thinking of the people that I have hurt in my lifetime that I didn’t mean to hurt. There were a couple of girls that I regret the way I behaved with and although they have more than likely forgotten me, I will keep them as regrets. I just hope I don’t have to explain my actions to Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates.

“It wasn’t them, it was me. But in my defence, I just didn’t think about anyone else other than myself back then. So, ignorance isn’t an acceptable excuse? Good to know, good to know. Is there any chance I can go back and get a “do-over”? So if I understand correctly, I can’t just redo the problem areas of my life, I have to live a whole other life. That doesn’t seem like a very good use of resources. Well, what exactly is a passing grade for life? Because I was good at least 50% of the time when I was awake and I didn’t get into any trouble when I was sleeping, so that’s 50% plus another 33% (assuming eight hours of sleep each night), so that adds up to 83%. That’s being conservative and I might add that 83% is A+. You can’t get much better than A+, so just open the gate and show me where I bunk.”

I have a feeling that in my next life I will come back as a lawyer, pond scum or a politician. Please let me be pond scum!

Anonymous comments

When you write a daily blog like this one, some days the words just flow and other days you have to drag them onto the screen. It seems that there are more dragging days than there are flowing days, but I suspect the harder day’s just stand out in my mind more. Every now and then I will randomly select one of the blogs that I have written over the past two and a half years to see if they are still interesting to me. For the most part, they are.

Perhaps my reading the blog is like a mother looking at her ugly baby, she can’t see past the love. I’d like to think that the blogs I have written are a snapshot of what I was thinking at that particular time of my life and when I am dead and gone, the kids and grand kids can read these and laugh a lot and maybe even cry a little. Time will tell I suppose.

I do get the odd comment o my blog. Not as many as I would like, but all are appreciated. Sometimes my friends that read the blog will comment on something that they have personally witnessed or been a part of. Sometimes I will get a comment that the blog made them cry or even laugh out loud. Those are good days! However, they are comments from friends and it’s possible they are being kind. Kind is much better than cruel, but I tend to value the comments from strangers more because they couldn’t care less about me.

I had a comment the other day that warmed my heart from Anonymous.

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I want to encourage continue your great writing, have a nice morning!

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It’s possible that this guy with the “augmentmypenis” website takes time from his busy day helping people with performance issues to relax reading my blog. It’s possible…right?

I was walking on air a day or two later when I received another wonderful comment from Anonymous.

You should be a part of a contest for one of the greatest websites on the web.
I most certainly will highly recommend this site!

This Anonymous was from I’m thinking a Spanish speaking country and it seems that they also have a small penis problem.
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Do you think that my blog attracts people who work in the penis enlargement business, or is it possible that somehow from my writing they have determined that I could use their help? You know, I don’t really care why they sent the comments, I am just happy to get them. I’d be happier if I could hear from someone that liked my blog that wasn’t in the penile enhancement industry, and if you happen to be out there and in the breast enlargement industry, I’d love to hear from you.

…and just one more.

I couldn't refrain from commenting. Perfectly written!

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Socks and Underwear

Today is the getting ready and packing day for our trip to Toronto and Southern Ontario to visit friends and family.

 

You would think that packing for someone like me, that doesn’t really care what I put on my back would be easy, but it isn’t. I always tend to over pack those “just in case” items and pretty much everything else. I get bogged down in the “what ifs” and “we mights”, when I should be paying attention to a little thing called reality. I’m wondering if I need to take shorts and a bathing suit, on the off chance the weather will become unseasonably warm. It is fall in Ontario which means mild days and cool nights. Instead of shorts, I should bring a toque and some mini gloves, maybe a sweater or two.

I will generally bring a sketch pad in the hopes that I will all of a sudden develop artistic talent

 

Going to a major urban centre, I should be able to pick up any clothing or toiletries that I might have forgotten, I won’t of course but I could if I really had to. I have always wished that I was wealthy, for a number of reasons, one of them being I wouldn’t take anything with me on the plane and just call ahead to the concierge with my sizes and have him pick up an assortment of clothing and toiletries. That’s not just rich, that’s stinking rich.

  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqr52_vDU40

What I am mostly concerned with forgetting is any of the many cords and electronic devices that I need or might need while I am in the wilderness of Toronto. Each device has its own specific cord and sometimes an adapter to boot. God forbid I have to buy and read a paper book when my eReader runs out of power. How on earth will I know what the weather will be if I can’t check the Weather Channel on my iPad? My teeth might rot and fall out if my toothbrush loses its charge. Of course the worst possible thing that could happen is that I won’t be able to write and post a blog while I am gone. Yes, I know they sell all of these cords in shops in Ontario, but I am really cheap and just don’t see myself digging into my pocket to buy something I am just a week away from.

I’ll take my glasses and sunglasses, and of course my spares, in case some rogue football catches my face unawares. If by chance all four prescription pairs disappear, I will squint for the duration. Who needs to see, I will just have Louise describe the world to me as it unfolds. I can hardly wait.

 

Well, time to get back to the underwear and socks. I’m pretty sure I have some that don’t have holes in them, well the socks anyways.

Three or Four Lives

Buster and I walked past the local high school today. That’s nothing new, it’s one of our regular routes and one of us seems to like the smells along the way and about half way one of us defecates in full view of passing cars. The only thing that was different about today is that we did the walk in reverse which meant that the high school was at the tail end of the walk.

Just past the high school is a United Church and then there is a retirement apartment building. We walked past the United church with Buster straining to get at the gophers that live under the church lawn. He always tries to get the gophers, but I figure that if he is going to be a killer, he should stick to Magpies and Crows. I wouldn’t mind if he killed gophers, but they are just too smart for him and he doesn’t need any more failure in his life.

There were three kids standing on the sidewalk in front of the retirement home which I thought was a little odd since it was cool and windy and they had a warm school just up the road they could take shelter in. As I came up to them, five of their friends came out from the dumpster shelter and I caught the unmistakable smell of marijuana. Now it made sense! They were getting ready for class. I remember doing that.

There are at least three types of high school kids. Those who think that getting stoned just before going to class is a good idea because it will help them focus and retain the information the teacher is trying to get across, There are those that know that getting stoned for class is a bad idea and yet they do it anyways. Finally there are those students who would never even consider getting stoned and go to class. These are the people that do well in school and end up being the owners of the franchises that the first class of students flip burgers while the second class of students manage them.

I was one of those that knew getting stoned was a bad idea, but for some reason the part of my brain that had the information couldn’t connect with the part of the brain that made the final decision. There is a facebook page that is all about the 50^th anniversary of my high school and through this I have re-connected with some of the kids I went to school with. They are talking back and forth about the teachers we had and the bands that played at our school dances. Once they mention a teacher or band, I remember the names, but there was no way I could have dredged them up from the smoke filled 45 year old memories.

I am amazed at the people they remember, and I can’t help but think they must have been those kids that did there partying after class was over. I am kind of glad that they were so studious; otherwise none of us would be able to remember the name of that crazy math teacher with the “SS” on his belt buckle. Maybe the next go round (and there will be another life I am sure) I will save the partying for the weekends. That might be three or four lives in the future.

I should mention that I think I have over medicated tonight and if this makes even less sense than normal, that would be the reason. 

I Can Believe In a Fat Vampire

Do you believe in ghosts?

 

I can’t say that I do, but I am willing to admit there are things that defy explanation. Probably the reason that I don’t believe is that I have never been anywhere that there are ghosts. Canada is a pretty young country and we really haven’t had the opportunity to build up a good healthy supply of angry spirits. Sure there would be native ghosts, but from what I understand they were one with the Great Spirit and returned to it or something like that. Besides, the indigenous population was relatively small and the chances of running into an angry native are pretty remote.

 There are people who die for various reasons that would make them want to hang around to get even. Except they can’t get even, because they are not corporeal. I’ll tell you that if I had killed someone, it wouldn’t bother me that much if doors would close or candles blow out, I’d just open the door and relight the candle. Go ahead and rattle your chains! Ghosts just seem to add to the charm of these old homes. I guess all ghosts are charming when you have never seen one. I would shit my pants if I actually saw a ghost that was out to get me.

 

I really don’t believe in the undead. Well, I guess everyone that is alive is technically one of the undead and some of the people you see on the street are pretty scary. I don’t believe that dead people rise from the grave and all of a sudden develop a taste for human flesh. I remember reading that one of the reasons man survived against much stronger predators that had large teeth and very sharp claws, is that we taste bad. If given a choice, a lion will eat a nice tender lamb instead of a smelly, stringy human. I would think that zombies wouldn’t be any different than lions when the choice was actual food or human flesh.

I have trouble understanding why we humans are on the planet; I sure as hell have no idea why someone would rise from the dead just to shuffle around after screaming people. I guess I don’t believe in zombies because I’ve never seen them either. Oh, and I don’t want to see any.

 

Vampires are just stupid. I don’t understand the current fascination about vampires. Sure, it doesn’t hurt that they are all really good looking and terribly sexy. Personally, I don’t find that a being who is about to suck the life out of me, is that sexy. If you want the life sucked out of you, then get a job with the Post Office and before you know it you will be old and used up, unloved and unemployable.

 

Wouldn’t a really successful vampire be extremely fat? They would have all the “food” they needed and get to sleep in whatever coffin they choose. I guess they would keep a herd of prey and whenever they needed some nourishment they’d just cut one out of the herd. I still say that lambs of cattle would be a better food source for them. No, a successful vampire wouldn’t have a care in the world.

I can believe in a fat vampire.

Massacre on 32nd

Survival of the fittest is nature’s way. The theory being that the strong will survive and live to breed, creating stronger and stronger offspring generation after generation. That’s the theory, but the reality is that while the strong struggle for the top honours, some weasel is sneaking in and having their way with the female. Thus, it isn’t the strong that pass along their genes, it’s the slippery bastards and that is why there are so many politicians.

I was walking along today and I witnessed that aftermath of survival of the fittest. There was a less fit bird that lost his place in the evolution of the species. I couldn’t tell whether it was another bird or flock of birds that attacked this bird, but it must have been a hell of a fight. I picture a lone bird being attacked by a “tiding” of magpies or a “murder” of crows, flying high and low, veering to the east and then the west, into trees and under bushes, until eventually, exhausted it makes a desperate last stand beside the Costco parking lot.

It must have been quite a long and arduous chase, because when the “tiding” or “murder” finally caught their quarry, it wasn’t pretty. I don’t know how, but it appears that they fed the bird into a wood chipper. There were feathers spread up and down 32^nd street as far as the eye could see. Where would they have found a bird sized wood chipper? Is there a Rodgers Rent All for the avian nation? What do they use for money? How do they get around not having thumbs?

I suspect that they didn’t use a wood chipper, but used talons and beaks to get the same effect. I don’t know why they were so pissed off at this particular bird, but they plucked every feather from its body and then I would imagine they got nasty. I saw lots of feathers, but no remains. I can’t help but wonder if the bird was eaten alive or if it mercifully died while being plucked.

Yesterday, a pigeon crashed into our front window, and dropped to the ground. I looked out and it was lying still on the grass. A Crow landed beside it and pecked at its tail and then flew up to a branch just above it. I looked at the tree and there were at least five crows and six magpies sitting in the branches. Not on my watch they don’t!

I went out with a noise maker and frightened the birds away. I was going to pick up the pigeon and say a few words over his dead body as it was being interred in the garbage bin. However, the noise maker was loud enough to bring good old Pigeon back to life and it took off and hid in the hedge. I figured I had done my duty and given it a chance to fight for its life. I did some good yesterday!

Well, perhaps I just delayed the inevitable, judging from the massacre on 32^nd. Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose and at other times we just put off the inevitable.

A bevy of quail
A bouquet of pheasants [when flushed]
A brood of hens
A building of rooks
A cast of hawks [or falcons]
A charm of finches
A colony of penguins
A company of parrots
A congregation of plovers
A cover of coots
A covey of partridges [or grouse or ptarmigans]
A deceit of lapwings
A descent of woodpeckers
A dissimulation of birds
A dole of doves
An exaltation of larks
A fall of woodcocks
A flight of swallows [or doves, goshawks, or cormorants]
A gaggle of geese [wild or domesticated]
A host of sparrows
A kettle of hawks [riding a thermal]
A murmuration of starlings
A murder of crows
A muster of storks
A nye of pheasants [on the ground]
An ostentation of peacocks
A paddling of ducks [on the water]
A parliament of owls
A party of jays
A peep of chickens
A pitying of turtledoves
A raft of ducks
A rafter of turkeys
A siege of herons
A skein of geese [in flight]
A sord of mallards
A spring of teal
A TIDING OF MAGPIES
A trip of dotterel
An unkindness of ravens
A watch of nightingales
A wedge of swans [or geese, flying in a "V"]
A wisp of snipe