Sunday

GAAAH!!! I was just pondering a bike ride this morning and... sorry, wife was just talking about her planned breakfast of leftover BBQ'd meats from yesterday and over easy eggs... what was I talking about? Oh ya. Exercise. Ya. She's not very nice. Anyway, I had to ask oldest monkey to go find my water bottle since he likes to play with it and pretend it's, what else, a gun. Then I noticed some black marks inside. What the hell? Then I opened it and peered inside and noticed blue marks as well. What? Turns out if you fill the water bottle with crayons and shake the hell out of it it produces gun like noises. Sigh. I'm sure that will be tasty.

I've also noticed that I may have been neglecting the back lawn. Any idea how much it would cost to airlift a combine?

**PS. So while I was looking around for my riding gear I realized that it still hadn't been washed since the last time I was out. I found it underneath a small mountain of laundry. Whatevs, I thought, it will be a little stinky but so will I. Then I remembered it had rained heavily that day and it's all still wet and a little stinkier than I'd thought. Since the cool air and cold wet clothes would have resulted in some horrible leg cramps I've decided to stay home and eat some more. But the INTENT was there, right? I mean, I even pulled those nasty wet tights on. Wow, that sentence is bad in so many ways...

Saturday: Before & After

Um...I got nothin'

Busy day today. Hair cuts and family BBQ so alls I gots is a lazy pic post. But I love pictures...



This one's for my favourite 6th grade teacher I never had.

My Drag Name

Your Drag Queen Name Is:

Jane Manhands

Just for Steenky Bee.

First Impressions

"I cannot show up for work like this!"

"It's not that bad, hon, you can just hold it up when you have to walk."

"What!? What if I trip and fall in front of the Emperor? I'd be shovelling bantha shit on Tatooine inside a week if that happened. That ain't gonna pay the mortgage."

"Alright, alright. I'll take it up some more..."

Steve The Chicken

Enough racism, how about a little girl and a chicken?

"One time I squished a chicken so hard that an egg fell out."

From Kevin German via bblinks

Co-workers With Pointy White Hats

During an exchange of emails...

Co-worker: I was going to make a really racist comment, but…

But what... you'd get fired? You suddenly remembered that my wife has those funny slanted eyes too? That my kids aren't quite white? But what, bitch?

Oh, I'm sorry, you weren't finished yet. Please go on.

Thursday, Because You're Sexy

Squish Your Face Like You Squish My Heart

Connor: Dad? Seriously, WTF?

Dad: Because I can, my little monkey angel, and watch your mouth. Mostly because five years from when I took this picture, this is what you make my head feel like on a daily basis.

Connor: Just remember, I'm only five.

Dad: I know, honey. Even when I forget and I get mad at you, I always remember. And when I shower you with kisses before bed and explain just how much I love you, know that daddy's let his insecurities and need to be a better father eat away a little more of his soul but that the pain is worth it, because you are worth it. Daddy lives in constant fear of screwing you up, baby, but he's trying. And please understand that even though you make my face feel like that sometimes, most of the time I have to hold my chest to keep my heart from bursting with the joy you give me.

Connor: Ok, daddy. That took you a long time to type.

Dad: Yes it did.

Connor: You should go dry your face so you can shave and go to work now.

Dad: Thanks, hon, I will. And I'll try not to wake you when I sneak into your room for one last kiss before I go to work.

Emails From Co-workers

Me: ...if a pregnant red head would get off the fax machine I could send you the first batch.

Co-worker: She's actually on the fax machine? Copying her butt, no doubt.

Me: I don't know, something about not being able to make it to her doctor's appointment. I don't want to know.

CW: Me neither. Those are things that are better left unsaid.

Sylvia Hotel

Sylvia Hotel, originally uploaded by captaindumbass.

Ever heard of Schmap Guides? I haven't, but they've asked me if they can use this picture. That's kinda cool. This is the Sylvia Hotel in Vancouver. Not sure what kind of vine covers the building, but in the fall (this was taken in October) all the leaves turn red and it looks amazing. It sits across the street from English Bay and the property it sits on must be worth a bazillion dollars. I took this back in 2003 while taking 4 month old Connor for a walk. Hmm. Maybe I can find a picture of that too...

The street that the hotel is on is lined with giant trees... I'm not sure what kind, I could look it up, but it's 5:44am and I just don't care. Anyway, an owner of one of the luxury apartments close to the hotel decided she didn't like the way these trees (which are on city property) blocked her view of the water so she poisoned one of them. Luckily she was caught, publicly humiliated and fined heavily for it. Personally, I think she should have been hung from the tree in an cage, medieval style, but that's just the romantic in me.

PS. The tree lived

PPS:

Hornswaggled

Ok, I was going to post something here after I checked out a couple other blogs (not to steal ideas because I didn't have any, really, I just got a bagel and I can't type a whole post one handed. Really, stop looking at me that way.) but then I stopped by at steenky bee and was duped into guest-comment-blogging on her site. She tricked me with some sentimental Canadian photos and I was hooked. So, if you want any me today you'll have to go over to steenky bee, I'll be lurking in the comments.

Conversations With Liam

Liam: I was being really tricky when I peed.

Me: When you peed on the carpet in the entrance way?

Liam: Yes, I was tricky.

Me: When I was watching you pee on the floor a minute after I asked you if you had to go?

Liam: Yes.

Me: Uh huh.

**Twenty minutes later

Me: Why are your underwear wet?

Liam: I peed.

Me: Where? (I just sat him on the toilet.)

Liam: Under the stairs. I was tricky. 

Me: (*@%$) 

(Not So) Lazy Sunday, Foraging & Dizzy Design

Ok, so first off, props to Auntie Dizzy for the uncommissioned design of our new masthead. She sent over two of them last night, coincidentally the day after I'd spent some time looking at having someone do exactly this. And I was willing to pay. Diz (sister-in-law) is being well paid with unlimited hugs and kisses from the children for the rest of her life. She is under exclusive contract with UTME (Us & Them Multi-Media Empire), but if you're interested, have your legal team consult mine. Here's the other one:



And she's never done this before, either. All that and she's waaay hot too. In a Lucy Lui/Tia Carrera kinda way. Yes, she will kick my ass for that, but she'll do it anyway just for mentioning her here even under her familial name. Whatever. Thank you Auntie Dizzy.

So, since my life will be undergoing a MAJOR change soon (more on that in another post) I think it's time to start turning over some other leaves too. Like I'm getting fat and that needs to stop now. We went down to Granville Island yesterday and had lunch before we left. I had a bourbon bbq cheeseburger. With fries. And some of Liam's chicken fingers. As we drove home I felt like... hmm, not like I was having a heart attack, more like my heart was trying to pump fryer grease. That can't be good.

This morning we woke up to heavy rain so I decided this would be a good day for a bike ride. I don't like exercising in the summer much, I prefer it when it's cold. Maybe it's a Canadian thing?

Supreme Leader decided that since I was going out I could do some hunting/gathering as well. Unfortunately the herds seem to have moved off the steppes. Luckily I found a patch of wild corn so I didn't have to return to the tribe empty handed.

So I exercised today! I was so proud of myself when I got home, and so ferociously hungry that I ate a leftover enchilada, a hot dog, the remainder of Connor's K & D Squiggles and two cookies. Hmm. I think what we should take away from this is that I DID exercise today. It's a start.

Apropos nothing, Bernadette walked up to me and started shaking a can in my face.

Wife: Can you hear that?
Me: (wtf?) Ah... I don't hear anything.
Wife: Exactly, there's no water in there, it's solid coconut cream. That's the sound of DEATH.

She's making some type of dessert for dinner so I'm assuming the death will be mine. Oh well, at least I know death will taste good.

Lazy Saturday With Pics

Packing styrofoam... what the hell happened to my font? What is this? Um... why did Blogger change my font and why won't it go back? WFT? And why do I have so few choices in font? Where's helvetica? Whatever, I'm going to pretend to ignore this. Anyway...packing styrofoam as foot wear? Only if you're three. Don't be jealous of my mid-70's linoleum.

Rugelach (draw out that 'u' in a dreamy voice). WTF IS WITH THE FONT??

Lily pads

Mosquito food. I know those look like finger prints, but they're really REALLY not. Honest. Maybe I shouldn't post this...

Email From Home: Jiggly Bits

Wife: Connor is past my boobs now.

Me: AHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Can I blog that?

(Connor is 5)

The "Empire" Strikes Back

"... and don't leave that goddamned cross bow on the counter again!"

"I put up with Solo's shit all day and I have to come home to this?"

"What?"

"Nothing, dear."

Emails From Home: Mr. Jiggles

Me: (Co-worker) wants to know if you like chunky men. I was talking about
sitting on the couch and getting fatter and fatter until my belly
starts pushing my shirt up.

Wife: You're not getting that fat. That was not a statement to make you feel better about your unintentionally planned weight gain. That was an edict from on high

This Year

I love this song. I found it last week courtesy of a tweet from Jenny, The Blogess. I downloaded it before leaving for work that day and have listened to it a thousand time since. This has been my theme song since 2006 only I didn't realize it until last week. The video's great too. Even if you don't like it, wait until 1:35 mark when the singer is offered a drink, the look on his face is fantastic.

I Love Nike

Chinese hurdler Liu Xiang had to withdraw from the Olympics due to an injury. Nike printed this ad the next day.

It reads: "Love competition; Love risking your pride; Love winning it back; Love giving it everything you've got; Love the glory; Love the pain; Love sport even when it breaks your heart."

I love Nike. Too bad his own government couldn't show him the same support.

Censorship And My Package

For some unknown reason, the Powers That Be have removed all the administrative blocks from all the websites that have always been banned. Twitter, Hotmail, Yahoo mail, Gmail, even Facebook. Hoo hoo! It's like somebody upgraded something and forgot to block it all again or they just don't care about my department anymore since we've been cast off like a dirty bandaid. Or, they're hoping to catch us looking at something we're not supposed to so they can fire us and screw us out of our severance package. Hee hee. Any time I hear somebody talking about their 'package' it makes me giggle.


Because I'm a man and we never grow past that 16 year old asking you to pull our finger, we're just fatter with less hair.


**Oh, and there has been some mention about the amount I post daily, but I'll refer you to the previous post, if I don’t get this stuff down when I think about it, it's gone. My mind is a sieve. If wifey were standing behind me she'd be rolling her eyes right about now. Scratch that, she'd be cuffing me upside the head.

I Just Open The Door And Let It Pour Out

A little late today, too much time spent reading other people's blogs (last night and this morning), watching Olympic BMX (ya, time well spent) and laughing at my eldest come up with excuses for not sleeping. They were good ones too, like "because it's raining," or "we haven't been to Nana's for a long time." Nice try, now get your little monkey-ass back to bed. Actually, we let him come down and watch a little men's 3m springboard which he then demo'd by jumping off the couch. Sleep seemed a long way off.

Speaking of excuses, this is all just an excuse for not writing anything, along with being tired and that Supreme Leader was cooking onions last night so my eyes were stinging and I couldn't keep them open and... other stuff. Ya. Shut up. I have a tonne of ideas lately but they are spread out everywhere. Typed into a saved text message, on my iPod's note pad (where I'm writing this now, on the bus beside slightly stinky falling asleep guy), scraps of paper, various email accounts and the most reliable, stuffed in a box in my head between all the other boxes of repressed memories, issues I don't want to deal with and some stale Cheetos.

I'll take cognitive dissociation for $200, Alex.
The Daily Double! Woot!

Actually, the Cheetos aren't that stale, just extra crispy.

From my phone for instance:

Cooking fingers raw meat carpaccio fear

What the hell? I need to kick the meth and go back to heroin. Probably had something to do with an excuse for not cooking juxtaposed with a love for the consumption of raw meat if it's presented properly. Ever had beef sashimi?

From my iPod:

First contact protocol consumption

Wait. I think I twittered that. Something about my youngest eating first and asking questions later.

I need some organizational assistance. I emailed Jodi of Jodiferous last night because she'd mentioned a program she uses on her Mac and iPhone (no hate) the last time I spammed her comment section. Amazingly, she remember the email and told me again. She probably wishes she'd never added an email section to her site. Or that I never found it. Sucka!

I've been spreading a lot of blog love around of late and would be terribly remiss if I didn't tell you to check out her site, Faster Pussycat... type! type! Jodi was like the first "real" blogger to leave me a comment so I love her eternally.

**And at this point the notes on my iPod end as I was struck by waves of nausea because I was writing on the bus and sitting on one of the sideways seats. And oops, it's 8:06 and I'm supposed to be working now. Hold on, I'll make it look like I was doing something...

Ok, there's a whole tree's worth of paper on my desk now. Where was I? Oh, ya, Jodi. Go check her out. She's been a little quiet lately as she's gone temporarily blind from playing mahjong on her iPhone, but dig through her old stuff. Check out Amelia, she's fun. And really, faster pussycat... type! type! The name alone is worth a peek. Wish mine was better, but I was in a rush. Wish my page looked better. Sigh.

Wow, that was a whole lot of nothing.

F*&K!

And in a blinding flash I just realized what that stain on my J. Crew hoodie is that I noticed this morning. I remember going to a paint store to buy stain for my sun deck. I remember scolding a small child for picking at some old paint that had spilt down the side of the counter. I remember picking up the same small child who decided his father's words were merely advice and not a command from on high.

What are the chances of getting 3 week old yellow paint out of faux sheepskin?

Thank You, NBC

I would like to give NBC a great big hug for this. I know we had our moments in Atlanta in '96, but I think you've made up for it here. At least you're on the right track. Keep up the good work.

Driving Ms. Danger

Driving home last night.

Me: So I noticed I haven't got my ING statement in awhile.
Wife: They only send it out every quarter now.
Me: Ya, so I checked on-line today and I have $XXXX.
Wife: $XXXX? Were you walking with a swagger today?
Me: Um, no. It was more like:

...and, "if I put half of this toward debt will wifey let me buy something?"

Wife:Was it now.

Me: .....

Wife: Somebody already got himself a big tattoo this year. I think that we need to pay down the line of credit first.

You know, this was much funnier on the drive home, aside from having my materialistic greed crushed. Maybe I missed a sentence or two? Nah, that just sucks. How about this.

Driving home last night.

Me: So I noticed I haven't got my ING statement in awhile.
Wife: They only send it out every quarter now.
Me: Ya, so I checked on-line today and I have $XXXX.
Wife: $XXXX? Were you walking with a swagger today?
Me: It was more like me rubbing my hands together like this and wondering if I put half of it on the Line of Credit would wifey let me buy something?
(Wife puts her left hand on my cheek and leaves it there. 'Woot!' I think to myself, 'I'm getting a new digital SLR!' I stop for a red light and wife reaches over with her right hand and puts the car in park. 'Sweet! She's gonna kis-'
And my head is pushed into the driver's side window so hard I see stars.)
Wife: What's this 'my money' and 'I get to buy,' BS!? That's my money, bitch!
Me: (shaking my head) What the hell was that fo--?
(She grabs the back of my head and slams me into the steering wheel)
Wife: Did I give you permission to speak!? You're already in it and you're pushin? Fo' real?
Me: (cupping bleeding nose) I bus jus wuddering ib I coulb...
Wife: Shut up and drive me home! I'm hungry.
Children: (in the back chanting and laughing maniacally) Daddy's a little biatch, Daddy's a little biatch...

Ya, that's better. Might as well stick with the truth rather than embellishing. Sure she's all cute and smiley on the outside, but on the inside she's a killer ready to throw down in a heartbeat.

If I Were A Rich Man...

If I had two hundred dollars to spend on a tea pot, hell ya.



Sorapot

Zombie's, Three Year Olds & Snot

My youngest has entered a pleasant state of warm cuddling squeeze-him-tight cuteness and blind homicidal rage. Yay three! *New parents, when you hear about terrible two's, they are actually referring to three, two just rhymes. Two is nothing. Two is getting you prepared for three. THEY won't tell you that, but I will. I'm your friend.* 

This morning (yesterday), after being reminded that he has been banned from the Wii for... however long I decide, he stomped upstairs spouting threats and decrees. Once I finished reading this, which you should too, I went upstairs to talk him down a little. I sat him on my lap and patiently waited while he stuttered through telling me what a horrible father I was and his plans to slam all the doors in the house. At some point in his narrative all the doors disappeared but I didn't ask him to clarify, I still had a cup of coffee waiting for me. After he finished I asked him a few questions:

1. Did you hit mommy yesterday?
2. Did you pull all the shoes off Gong Gong's (grampa) shelves and leave them all over the floor?
3. Did you hit Gong Gong's fan after he told you not to touch it because you might hurt yourself?

And because he's three he fully admitted to all of these crimes and more. So instead of dropping some "because I said so" nasty on him I took the time to explain exactly why he wasn't going to be playing Lego Star Wars for the foreseeable future. He sat there and 'listened' without freaking out so I granted him bail and sent him on his way. Then I noticed my sleeves. All the while I was talking, Liam was rubbing his face on my shoulders, first one, then the other, back and forth. Rubbing his snotty little three year old nose all over my new Zombie's Ate My Brain t-shirt. Should've just spanked the little shit. 

(JOKING!)

The Olympics (because everybody else has)

After a seven day drought on the medal boards Canada got a hat trick yesterday, gold, silver and bronze. Carol Huynh from BC (woot!) got our gold in wrestling and made a lot of Canadians breathe a little easier. And I didn't even get to see it.

Friday night while putting the kids to bed I stopped to watch a medal ceremony and realized it was the first one I had seen. I'll give you three guesses who it was but if your first two aren't Michael Phelps then you're stupid. As I asked my wife what number he was on now I wondered whether it meant anything to him at this point, but when they closed in on his face and you could see the glassy look in his eyes, you knew it did.

I can't believe that was the first medal I've seen awarded. I've been watching since the opening ceremonies, but nowhere near as much as I usually would. I guess the kids would be part of the reason since they aren't really interested yet so they won't leave me alone for five minutes to watch. Liam is too young to sit still long enough and Connor doesn't care because there are no planes shooting at each other. The rest is probably just exhaustion from work, the impending loss of work and the aforementioned kids.

I love the Olympics. I love everything they represent. I love that they make the world feel a little smaller every two years. I love the excitement, the hype and the fact that it's something that everyone in the world talks about at the same time because we're all watching it together. And it is the world. A lot of sporting events get billed as world this or world that, but nothing really pulls the entire planet together like the Olympics do. The World Series? Outside of the Americas? Japan maybe. Random fans in Europe, but the World? No. The only thing that really comes close is the World Cup, because most of the world, outside of North America really does watch it. And aside from our immigrants and hard core soccer fans, we largely ignore soccer here.

I love it when my country does well, who doesn't, but I wouldn't have enjoyed the games any less if we hadn't medalled at all because it's not about that. I cheer for everyone. Sure I'd rather see my athletes win, but I'll still cheer for the winner, regardless of what country they are from. The Olympics are different because aside from some of the bigger sports like hockey and basket ball, most of these athletes aren't professionals, yet they've devoted their whole lives to this. The lucky ones will get enough financial backing that they can afford to train all the time without having to actually work, but they are the minority. Most still have to hold down jobs and fight for every last sponsorship dollar they can just to keep doing this. So I do cheer them all on, because they made it. They got to march into that stadium with their country's name across their chest and win or lose, they made it to the Olympics. 

And regardless of the sport, this is it. Even for the professional athletes, the Olympics are different. No, nothing is going to compare to hoisting the Stanley Cup or making it to the NBA Finals, but this isn't one league played in one or two countries. This is representing your country against the best the world has to offer. It means more. It means more to everyone and for the most part, it has nothing to do with money. Aside from a select few, nobody is going to get rich from these games. Yes, some of the wealthier countries do reward their athletes for medals, but do you really think any of them started out in their sport thinking about that?

I love all the stories that come along with the games, all those short interviews with the athletes, all the little facts and fillers the broadcasters come up with. I love learning new things about the countries the games are in. I love the commercials, especially the ones from companies like Nike that give you an ad that's not trying to sell you anything, that just make you feel good for watching it. I love the athletes that have no business whatsoever being there, like Eddie the Eagle or the Jamaican bobsled team. Some of the people invited just out of courtesy make for the best stories. There was a swimmer, a Palestinian I believe, from... Sydney? Athens? I don't remember, and it's not important. What I do remember is crying over this poor bastard  struggling to finish after every other swimmer had touched the wall and the crowd going just as crazy for him as the did for the winner. That's what the Olympics are about for me. That feeling.

My favourite games would have to be Salt Lake City. Watching both the men's and woman's hockey teams win gold. The loonie buried at centre ice, Gretzky at the helm, our men's team doing what we expect them to. Guess they're kind of like the US basketball team. All that talent, truly the best in the world, we are supposed to win. And that time, they finally did. Mostly though, it's images of particular games that make them favourites. Like the back drop of Barcelona behind the diving competition, the beauty of Nagano and the opening ceremony at Beijing. 

And with the good, there has to be bad. For me, those were Seoul and Atlanta. I don't mean to offend any of my American friends, but the games in Atlanta were definitely my least favourite even though it had some spectacular moments. Muhammad Ali lighting the torch, Kerri Strug landing on one foot because of an ankle injury and winning gold, Donovan Bailey winning the 100 metre. My issue with Atlanta were the fans and their patriotism. Hold on, let me finish. I don't have any issue with anyone showing pride in their country, in fact, I envy Americans for theirs. We are just as patriotic here in Canada, we're just more subdued. We don't have that history of flag waving. The problem with Atlanta was that it was just so in your face that it got to be ugly. Those chants of 'USA, USA' lost their sense of pride and began to feel mean spirited. Even NBC succumbed to it in their own way. The winner of the 100m has traditionally always won the title of 'world's fastest man,'  but after Michael Johnson won the 200m NBC decided to call him the world's fastest because well, 200 m is twice as far as 100m. 

Now you may be thinking I'm only saying that because the winner of the 100m that year was a Canadian, Donovan Bailey, but you're wrong. It's not just me. If you are one of my American readers, or just passing through, try asking a friend who lives outside of the US what they thought of Atlanta. It's not always easy to see from the inside. And don't think I haven't left my own country off the hook. In Seoul we also won the 100 m and we were all very proud of ourselves, until we found out that Ben Johnson had been using steroids and he was stripped of his medal. That was terrible, but what I found worse was my country's transition from cheering Ben Johnson as a Canadian hero to criticizing Ben Johnson the Jamaican-Canadian. It was instantaneous and shameful. 

What the hell? I've written a book here. This post must be as long as everything else I've written put together. If you've made it this far, thank you. And yes, it's over. But I'd like to hear from you now. What's your favourite? Moment, games, memory, whatever? Monday morning I have to go back to an office of people who don't watch at all and that is annoying as hell.

Sorry, But I Had To. HAD TO.

Sorry it's a little small.

Don't hate the playa,' hate the game.

via Waksays

Throne Speech, or State of the Union

Family and Friends update for the People's Republic of Us.

**You ever start writing something and forget about it and then run across it weeks later while looking for something else? No? Well goody for you, smart ass. I do it all the time. Anyway, this is one of those. The six weeks mentioned below has shrank to two.

The Republic has been experiencing some unexpected challenges in recent months. In the next six weeks the Republic will be losing half of it's tax base (my job) and shortly afterwards negotiations begin on debt restructuring with the World Bank (mortgage renewal). We have been granted a slight reprieve (one year's salary minus 25%) however we do not anticipate the World Bank negotiators being impressed by this nor do we believe the People's Supreme Council (Bernadette) will approve a short term secession of labour by half of our work force for the purpose of mental realignment (time off). Attempts at securing a new tax base (job) for the Republic are occurring but unofficially and mainly through back channels.

Infrastructure programs are proceeding though are slightly behind schedule due to unforeseen environmental conditions (if you wait long enough it will rain, but really, the sundeck needed to be washed off anyway after all the sanding and seriously, it's freakin hot out!). Long term projects have been put on hold due to labour shortages but we anticipate recommencement of work shortly (Ok, I'm lazy, alright? I freakin' hate painting and who puts wallpaper in a bathroom? It either falls off by itself or super glues itself to the wall. And by the way previous owners of my house, textured wallpaper? Seriously? No it's not red with black velvet, but does it matter? What is the point of this? Did people spend a lot of time caressing walls in the 70's? I was only a child but I don't recall that bit.)

The individual provinces that make up our great republic are healthy and doing well. The newer additions are strong and growing within forcasted expectations. We foresee acceptable and expected incidents of rebellion which will be handled through a combination of government approved education programs and joint policing/military intervention where needed. The Republic will be focusing on education programs in these provinces this year (kindergarten & pre-school) and will also begin instituting mandatory physical fitness programs (martial arts, gymnastics, swimming, whatever) as we believe the general populace will be less prone to rebellion if their free time is properly focused (and they will fall asleep quickly).

The founding member provinces are doing well. Both could use significant infrastructure improvements (beginning to resemble Vegas era Elvis), but are otherwise healthy. Mental improvements are ongoing.

Conversations that only make sense within the family

"Honey, you don't have to eat the rice, just eat the trees and children."

Knitting and Bacon

Hell Boy: Hey Captain.
Me: Hey Hell Boy.
HB: How's it going?
Me: Going. Did you want something?
HB: It's not what I want, amigo, it's what you want.
Me: And what do I want?
HB: Me! Don't be rollin' your eyes at me or you'll get the fist.
Me: You're made of wool. And I don't want you.
HB: It's the power behind the wool, buddy. And don't lie, I'm in your head.
Me: Whatever. Besides, you're not for sale anymore.
HB: HA! Bitch! I told you. So I'm not on the etsy site anymore, what about ebay?
Me: Ebay!
HB: Talk to your therapist about this buying compulsion?
Me: Funny. You're not on ebay either so I guess we're done.
HB: Oh well. How about St. Anthony?


Me: Huh? Oh my...
St. Anthony: That's right kid, the patron saint of bacon.
Me: Oh my...
SA: Protector of pigs, hermits, gravediggers and epileptics. You could put me on the dashboard since you can't find a hula girl.
Me: ...dashboard... but my wife...?
SA: Kid, you know how she feels about bacon.
Me: You're right. She loves bacon.
SA: Course I'm right, Dumbass! Who's the saint?
Me: It's actually 'Captain...
SA: Shut up and buy me!

Good Morning

I've always been partial to Thursday's. Everybody loves the weekend, hug a work day.

Tweets

On Twitter last night.
Me: Ok, I have a stupid man question. Chicken strips from Saturday night. Can I still eat them?
oodlesOFnoodles: as long as they don't have one or both of the following: (A) a foul odor and (B) a viscous film coating their surface, YES
middleagedwoman: If they're not green, they're clean.
jenboglass: Two words. Hell and no. But if you do, you must stand over the sink. It's man law or something.


All: SUCKA!!!

Dawn of the knitted dead care of cakey voice.

Late Night Snacks & Good Reads

Supreme Leader worked until 6pm last night so the boys and I braved the wilds of East Van and Burnaby to go pick her up. As soon as we got rolling, young and usually happy monkey started demanding a movie (DVD player in mini-van, if you've ever seen these and mocked them, you're stupid). Usually I'd just put it on but today I wanted some Olympic updates before giving up...er, listening to Cars for the 1001st time. Patience was not on the books. There were immediate threats to kick my chair, send me to my room and slam the door, and bestest, sneeze on me. He's turned the corner on blind screaming anger to being able to vocalize it. He's still working on the vocalizing.

I tried explaining that daddy just wanted to listen for a minute, that I'd put the movie on soon, but he was having none of that. And he does not need a nap. No, sir. Since daddy was not giving him the fight he needed he turned to his older brother who was more than willing to accommodate. That's love.

About ten minutes later they were both asleep. They were still asleep when we got home. Then comes the dilemma. Wake them up or put them to bed? Not being able to remember the last time we had an evening to ourselves we chose bed. And what a lovely evening it was. Until 9:30 and 2:15am, respectively. 9:30 wasn't too bad. Connor and I watched some beach volleyball and ate some Fruity Cheerios, back to bed, Bob's yer uncle. (What the hell does that mean?) 2:15am was a different story though. Who doesn't like waking up out of a deep sleep to their child screaming? Not sure what the dream was about but it sounded like a dispute over a toy. Then he sits up and says, "I'm hungry." Yes. Of course you are.

So after about 10 minutes of standing in the middle of the kitchen cold and naked wondering what the hell to feed a 3 year old at two in the morning I grabbed a chewy granola bar and chopped a few small pieces off. Liam takes these pieces and instead of just shovelling them into his cake hole like he usually does, he takes small bites and then chews slowly like he's pondering the subtle nuances of peanut and hydrogenated cottonseed oil. Daddy is going to drift off into oncoming traffic later today and it will be your fault.

On the bright side, when we got home yesterday, Canada Post had left us a present!



The picture doesn't do it justice, that's 2.2 pounds of sweet reading. Do I recommend this book? No. I recommend you drop whatever you're reading and run to your nearest Chapters/Indigo, Barnes & Noble, Amazon whatever and buy book's 1 through 7 of this series. That's what I recommend. If you like fantasy. If you don't, go out and buy them anyway, you'll change your mind. If you don't then you suck. But that's just my opinion.

Yesterday I was totally lacking motivation, Sleep Deprivation Ninja recommended the next time I felt this way I should try taking a ninja nap,

"a ninja nap--it's like a regular nap except you do it with your eyes open
while running up and down the side of a mountain. Nothing says lack of
accomplishment like a nap with no sleep involved."

Thanks SDN. That's kinda what last night felt like and it must have worked. BTW, why the FUCK won't Blogger let go of this freakin quote no matter what I do? Oh, and why the giant gaps between paragraphs that won't correct either?

This Is Why I'm Fat...

(Think MIMS)

This is why I'm fat, this is why I'm fat,


This is why, this is why, this is why I'm fat.
I'm fat 'cause ya cook, I'm fat 'cause ya bake, ya,
This is why, this is why, this is why I'm fat.

Ok, I'm not really fat, but she's trying.

Toothpaste & Gorillas

Ran out of toothpaste this morning and used the kid's instead. What the hell? Why do adults get screwed out of all the cool flavours? Mint is great for gum or a mint julip (no idea what that is, just fit) but for my toothpaste? Give me bubble gum with sparklies any day. Just pump some more fluoride in there and we're good to go. I'll brush my teeth 4 or 5 times a day.

I was going to make some comment about being more willing to brush my teeth in the morning, but thinking about it, I can't wait to brush my teeth in the morning. My breath smells like gorilla ass when I wake up.

Actually, it's not really my breath that smells that bad, but because I like sleeping in my own bed I'll just pretend that it is mine.

Whoo boy! Yep, I gots me some stank ass breath. Damn, that's nasty!

Olympic Photos

Ok, maybe a little something. For anyone who didn't see the opening ceremonies in Bejing, check out some photos from The Big Picture.

Meh

I got nothing.

Anniversary Sunday

A leisurely anniversary Sunday. Kinda. We're still not sure if Liam pulled his wagon downstairs or sat inside it and lowered himself down step by step. I want to believe the former. Oh, and the not so leisurely drive back to the restaurant we had dinner in last night from the diner we had breakfast in this morning to see if they had Bern's American Express. And they did.


A little walk on the beach.

Some lemonade at the farmer's market. After his first long sip he says, "Mmm, daddy, it's nice and smooth." That's right, son. Just like that 18 year old Glenfiddich we were drinking last night. WTF? Where do they come up with this stuff? And... screaming from upstairs. Now what? Ah. Somebody broke somebody else's imaginary robot. I hate it when that happens. Any point to this particular post, you ask? None whatsoever, except that if I keep typing then maybe I can delay my cooking lesson. Some people find cooking leisurely, others do not. Hmm, how about Middle Aged Woman's meme or blogart. Whatever the difference is.

I am: all man, baby. Ahahahahaha!
I think: but I try not to.
I know: an exceptional amount of useless information.
I have: a new Salman Rushdie book, The Enchantress of Florence.
I wish: my job could be eliminated so I could take a year off to spend with my kids. Hey! Wait a minute...
I hate: not being able to find the remote.
I miss: Buffy, Angel, Enterprise, Journey Man and every other show I've loved that's been cancelled.
I fear: more things than I did before I had children.
I hear: the cooling fan on my computer, the US/China basketball game, my wife talking to herself as she cooks, the boys breaking things upstairs.
I smell: suntan lotion.
I crave: attention.
I search: for salvation. No. Enlightenment? Not really. The fridge for something to eat.
I wonder: how long before Connor is taller than his mother.
I regret: je ne regrette rien.
I love: oh do I ever
I ache: in my neck because even though I am pretty relaxed about losing my job, apparently I am somewhat stressed on the inside.
I am not: 6'2 like I tell everyone who asks. I'm a smidgen under. Not a teensy bit, but a smidgen.
I believe: we are not alone.
I dance: naked under the light of the full moon. (not really)
I sing: even though I shouldn't.
I cry: yes.
I fight: myself.
I win: when my wife lets me.
I lose: but I don't stop fighting.
I never: but I always wished I had.
I always: lift my feet when I drive over railway tracks. Thanks, Mom.
I confuse: easily and often.
I listen: to my wife even though I don't always hear her. Or is that the other way around?
I can usually be found: if I want to be found.
I am scared: of you finding out what I'm scared of and using it against me. I know you, you'll do it.
I need: repeated kicks in the ass.
I am happy about: being able to be happy.
I imagine: oh yes I do.

And I'll leave you with this:

It's blurry, but that's because it was taken in a hurry and while I was laughing. This is my littlest monkey balanced on top of a railing that divides our dining room from our living room. We're in the middle of potty training and in this picture he is watching his pee roll down his legs and drip off the railing onto the floor.

Sigh.

Happy 12th

What was inside? Well, let's just say Captain Dumbass will be ordering a double shot in his americano tomorrow morning. Heh heh heh.

So begins our anniversary weekend eat-a-thon. Today we will be commencing with dim sum with the family, grocery shopping and the possibility of a movie for mommy and daddy. We're playing it by ear. 

Yesterday the stupendously awesome Middle Aged Woman gave me a Kick Ass Blogger award. Unfortunately there's something wrong with the site this morning so I can't add it here yet. I'll do it Monday when there's more traffic and I can gloat to a wider audience. In the mean time I will distract you with pretty pictures.

Yes, it's raining here, but it gives me an opportunity to share THIS!

WTF? you ask? It's water on wood. Yes, that's right. But it is water beading on top of the wood that I painstakingly sanded and painted. Beading. Not being absorbed like a sponge and rotting my expensive sun deck. Looking at that sun deck this morning I can see that my sanding was not quite as thorough as I thought it would be so if you ever come by just smile when I tell you it was built entirely of reclaimed wood. That seems to be the vogue in home renos these days so I look good and cover up my shoddy workmanship at the same time.

Last night the Olympics began and if you didn't watch the opening ceremonies you SO MISSED OUT. I feel sorry for all the future Olympic organizers who have to try and compete with that, because they can't. Zhang Yi Mou, 15,000 performers, $380 million dollar budget and a talent pool of 1.5 billion. Although really, all they needed was that gigantic 500 foot LCD screen that rolled out like a scroll and had people dancing on top of it. If I ever win the lottery I'm putting a lazy boy in my front yard then buying the other side of my street so I can knock down all their houses to put up that mo' fo.'

Later

Must Be Friday

Ok, so the first blog I checked out this morning was Steenky Bee and the first kick of caffeine hit me and I went off in her comments and ran out of time to update here, so feel free to go read her post which is funny and then segue into her comments. So I'm kinda like guest posting there even though I wasn't asked to. Anyway, leave a comment, be nice or I'll totally do this to your blog. Seriously. I'll be unemployed soon and have nothing but TIME.

Oh, and go over to Unmitigated and wish Middle Aged Woman a happy birthday.

I haven't even had time to read all the other updates I can see in my Newsfire. Although, the first line in Kaply, Inc says:

Ok, I have an appointment with a vascular surgeon and we will find out in September what is the dealio with my crazy ass...

Which is pretty funny. Well, after I made sure there was more to that sentence and there wasn't actually anything wrong with her ass. And her ass is fine. Hmm, that could be taken the wrong way. Good thing there's no HR Department in Blogger.

You know how they say animals can sense an earthquake before it actually happens? I'm sensing my wife feels I should get off my ass and help get the kids ready to leave the house. I'm going with my gut here. And now my post is longer than my crazy comment at Steenky Bee.

Banned

Liam is upstairs playing a dirge on his Fisher Price xylophone because he is not allowed to play on the Wii tonight. It's not easy drawing melancholy out of such high notes but my boy has talent.

End Times

This is a picture of the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland and France (it's really big). It's a particle accelerator which will begin smashing particles together on October the 21st of this year. You might want to pencil that date into your calendar since that will surely be the day we rip a hole in time/space or at least open the Hell Mouth.


Above is the CMS Detector which... detects CMS's, duh. (Actually it's a 7 story tall machine that detects the particles.) The ring the particles are shot through is 27 kilometres long or... how many miles for my American friends? Um, it's this big:

Ok, it's kinda hard to see the ring. Squint. Oh, 17 miles. To keep those particles moving it uses 1600 superconducting magnets each of which weigh over 27 tonnes. Like I said, it's really big. And all those big magnets need to be kept cool to work properly so the whole thing is flooded with 96 tonnes of liquid helium which will drop the temperature to -271 degrees Celsius (-456 F).
Why am I telling you all of this? Because I'm a geek for this shit. I don't even know what it does aside from crashing particles together at high speeds and seeing what they do. Obviously this is very important to somebody since it must of cost a bajillion dollars to build. Whatever, I'm a boy and we dig this stuff. Go to the Big Picture to see some more pics, they are impressive. And if you're not impressed with Justice League style super weapons (it's not a weapon, but totally looks like one, right?) you should check out the Big Picture anyway if you've never heard of it.