No More Mr Nice Guy

That's it. I've had it. I no longer have the patience to deal with stupid people. I'm through with being nice to all my suppliers. It gets you nowhere. From this point on I'll give everyone ONE chance at getting it right, and be friendly right up to that inevitable point where they fuck up. Not just make a silly mistake, but really fuck up. From then on I'll be known as Mr. Bitch (Dickeybird you just stop with whatever comment you're about to make right now). It's the only way to get these people to pay attention. They will soon learn that if they don't, they'll fucking hear about it from Mr Cunty. What they don't realize is that because I rely on them somewhat, their incompetence can make me look incompetent, and that's something I just won't tolerate.

I'm a big believer in customer service, which is why I have loyal following of clientele that I do. I also expect that level of service from other companies, and I'm usually disappointed. When I am, I usually let them know. I'm sure my account is flagged with "you can't satisfy this customer, so don't even try" at my car dealership after all the problems I had. As far as I was concerned, they were going to live up to their warranty whether they liked it or not - and they didn't like it one bit.

While I'm on a rant, I'd just like to add for the last fucking time I CAN'T STOP THE HUNDREDS OF SPAM MESSAGES THAT HIT YOUR MAILBOX EVERY SINGLE DAY. IF I TIGHTEN THE SPAM FILTERS ANY MORE, YOU'LL START MISSING IMPORTANT MESSAGES AND BITCH AT ME EVEN MORE. HOW ABOUT SPENDING MONEY ON THAT MAIL SECURITY SOFTWARE I WAS TELLING YOU ABOUT? HMMM??? I CAN'T WORK MIRACLES YOU KNOW!

There, much better.

All the drivers are women and they all wear spandex

I saw a tow truck on the side of the 401 HIGHWAY OF HEROES yesterday. The company name was:

Camel Towing

Do you think they know? It's very possible that they don't have a clue. There are a lot of immigrant tow truck drivers in Toronto.

I on the other hand laughed my ass off and snickered the rest of the way home.

INTEGRAL - Pet Shop Boys vs. Cybermen

This is a mash-up of the Pet Shop Boys and Dr. Who. I just kinda liked it.

Dining Extravaganza

While we were at Super Gay Campground 2007 and talking with a neighbour, another camper came up to speak with him about their dinner plans that night. Two things from their conversation stood out:

1. Cedar planked salmon (the cedar was currently soaking in the sink)
2. Chafing dishes

The first I could sort of understand, but chafing dishes?

Chafing dishes.

It just sounds wrong. I hear the word chafing and I immediately think of my thighs on those hot, humid days.

Apparently we were really unprepared for camping. Guess I need go to Williams and Sonoma and get one of these before we go back.

Chiuaua

There's a radio station in my office building. Consequently I will sometimes see famous people in the lobby who are visiting the station.

Friday morning I saw Dog the Bounty Hunter as I was leaving the building. He's so little!! Like half the size in both height and build than he looks on TV. Not Tom Cruise little, but little nonetheless.

Considering that it would be my only chance, I ran up to him and said hi and shook his hand. He just said a quick hello and continued towards the elevator. Then, as I continued out the door I saw a big, black Suburban sitting out front. It occurred to me that his wife might be inside so I ran over to see if her tits were as huge in real life as they are on TV but she was nowhere to be found.

I knew that the camera adds 10 pounds, but I didn't know that it also adds 10 inches. (insert porn jokes here)

Attack of the Bears

This weekend we took the trailer up to The Point. I wrote a little song to commemorate the excursion:

If you go into the woods today, you're in for a big surprise.
If you go into the woods today, you'll want to scratch out your eyes.
For every bear that ever there was,
Is gathered here and naked because,
Today's the day the naked bears have their piiiiiiiiiiiicnic.

I don't have a problem with clothing optional places, I just like to be warned ahead of time *ahem* Dead Robot *ahem*. Being the new meat for the weekend, the seasonals were quick to come over and say hello and to check out the trailer. There was many a naked man in the trailer this weekend, and not in a good way. I still can't understand why it was mostly the naked ones who stopped to say hello, and also why the good ones kept their clothes on.

The weekend was, oh what's the word - different.

I Like It When The Red Water Comes Out

I was recently introduced to Salad Fingers. Very creepy. And it gets creepier and darker as you watch the episodes. So twisted I can't help but love it. Safe for work - just don't let your coworkers see you watching this. They'll think you're weirder than you already are.

You should also watch this very important PSA.

Pothole Hero

Whenever a soldier is killed in battle, the body is sent to CFB Trenton where the coffin is given a hero's welcome, and is then promptly put into a hearse and driven to downtown Toronto for an autopsy. This 172km stretch of highway 401 is apparently dubbed the "Highway of Heroes" (of which I had no idea until yesterday). Now there is talk and an online petition to officially rename it. How ridiculous.

These soldiers, who do a job that I could never dream of doing, and who give their lives overseas protecting George Bush's interests, deserve to be remembered and commemorated - but not like this. They deserve better than to have some busy, congested, accident prone highway named in their honor. It just sounds wrong too. Imagine the news reports:

There was an accident today on the Highway of Heroes, just outside of Oshawa.

The East bound collector lanes on the Highway of Heroes are jammed. You should stay in the express lanes if you can. The Highway of Heroes opens up just past Kennedy.

This business is located just at the corner of Highway of Heroes and Brock Rd.

Can we not come up with something better than this?

Seriously.

Blonde Ambition

I've been looking at life differently lately. I don't get it. Watching everyone chugging along in their day to day lives makes it all look so pointless. Everything seems so mundane and meaningless. I'm not depressed, but I keep thinking that there has to be more. I'm not complaining about my life right now either, but I just feel like it should be better somehow. Enhanced maybe. I feel like I'm destined for something greater, better, more - can't quite come up with the right word. It's become a driving force.

Consequently I've been doing a lot of soul searching and life changing in the past year. I've got some projects on the go which I will finally be able to talk about soon and a list of others waiting to get off the ground. This was also one of my main reasons for quitting smoking. I just want my life to get even better, and poisoning myself wasn't helping much - not that I don't still crave a cigarette almost every single day. I'm also gearing myself up to going back to the gym.

In short I don't know if I'm being driven by ambition or by relentless discontent. Or maybe both. Maybe they're the same thing.

All I know is that picking up the reins and taking 100% control of your life is hard work. It's fucking exhausting, but worth it. Mark my words - in the next few years I will become famous in some way, shape or form.

And it won't be for that video that's currently circulating the Internet either.

Field of Dreams

My friend Shannon and I refer to each other as Fetus Friends. We quite honestly can't remember a time when we didn't know each other. Growing up I spent a lot of time at her house - especially in the summer with her having a pool and all. I'm pretty much family and am affectionately known as the surrogate little brother to her two older sisters. Her family has an annual field party, which was this past weekend, and of course I'm always invited. It's always a treat to bring Q with me - and this year, as a bonus, we got to try out the new trailer. What better way to inaugurate our becoming trailer trash, than with a field party?

Shannon and I grew up in the country. Our families are country folk. Always have been and always will be. I think it's safe to say that we both have some questionable branches on our family tree - some that don't branch out quite enough, or are slightly cracked, or just plain broken. The offshoots of those limbs were there on Saturday. We got to hear words like "shooken" and "ain't" and "You got a stick? My beer fell in the fire and I gotta get it out."

But the best part of the weekend was getting to spend time with Rowan, Shannon's 18 month old daughter. She's just absolutely the most cutest thing ever and took a real shining to me. Yet another one to spoil.

Union Rules

Tuesday morning we left a 4 a.m. - yes 4 a.m. (anyone who knows me knows how wrong that is) - to meet up with Q's sister and her family and head out to Rochester. Tuesday is also garbage day, so I put the green bin and recycling bins out on the lawn. Like everyone else in Toronto, we have a huge problem with raccoons and green bins full of food waste. Consequently I went out to Home Hardware months ago and bought some Raccoon Check strips to securely fasten the lids down. They are a simple and effective solution - just a nylon strip with backpack type clips on either end. Push ends together and it clips. Squeeze the clips and it releases. Raccoons can't figure it out, and apparently neither can garbage men. Seeing as it was an ungodly 4 in the morning, the coons would still be out so I elected not to undo the straps as I would usually do just before leaving for work. Well imagine my surprise when I got home today to find the green bin still closed and full. I guess undoing raccoon straps isn't in the union contract and therefore the lazy fucks don't have to do it. Seriously fucking ridiculous.

Speaking of ridiculous - Q's sister makes this annual trek to Rochester to do some back to school shopping with her kids and this year we decided to tag along. They leave at 4 in the morning (did I mention that already?) so they can beat the traffic. While that may seem logical, it also makes for a very long, exhausting day - which is made worse by the fact that you are forced to spend time in the mall (which I normally wouldn't mind under different circumstances) and can't nap or even rest because check in isn't until 3:00. I was just a tad grumpy by 4:00 p.m. and needed some rest to become civil again.

Our dinners were spent at Bugaboo Creek Steak House, which Q kept accidentally calling Jigaboo Creek the entire time. It's a "Canadian influenced steak house" - which was a new one for me. Of course that translates into the entire restaurant being decorated like a log cabin, complete with moose antler chandeliers, a Mountie statue at the door, and dead animals all over the walls, including a bison head that came alive every 20 min and talked. Either that or the shrooms I ordered as a side dish were kick ass. If you ever find yourself there, order the ribs. Best I've had in ages. Better than any I've had in Canada.

Trip was fun overall though. We stayed outside of Rochester - not actually in Rochester as we wanted to come home alive and with all our belongings. Hit a couple of malls and got a few deals. If we go next year, we'll just meet them down there or go the night before. I don't do early well. It makes me a spinner.

In the Moment

Friday I stopped into Ginger, one of my favourite lunchtime haunts when I'm at Yonge and Bloor. It was hot outside and in, the place was packed, there was a lineup to the door crowding behind me, I had to share a table with someone I didn't know and the front windows were open with emergency vehicles were screaming up and down the street.

It was at that moment that I realized this chaos is exactly why I love being in the city.

Yay! Hate mail!!

I got my first hate comment. Apparently I'm doing something right:

Was fuer ein langweilig Blog. Halts Maul du bescheuerte Spinnner, dein Leben scheint zu verdammt und vergissbar sein. Stirbst du bitte bald und HALTE DIE KLAPPE!
Du bist Scheiss

Which babel fish accurately translated into:

Which for boringly a Blog. Stop muzzle you crazy Spinnner, your life seems too condemned and forgetable its. You die please soon and STOPS the FLAP!
You are shit

Silly Nazi. No one is forcing you to watch Dini Petty. I'll flap and spin as much as I want to thank you very much.

I loves me some hot Scheiss. Better than lube.

Thriller Redux

Over 1,500 CPDRC inmates of the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center, Cebu, Philippines recreate Thriller. A good incentive not to go back to jail?

Who needs iTunes?

For those of you at work

I came across the artwork of Koen Demuynck the other day. Brillant stuff, though I can't read Russian so I don't know what the site says. I bet he gets asked to paint churches all the time.

Choose your own adventure.

If you go to this page, you'll find a bunch of links to small animated loops. You don't know what you'll get until you click a link. Some are cute clips from the Siimpsons and others will make you run crying to kitchen to grab bleach to pour into your eyes.

It's kind of like playing Memory, only there's no matches and you won't win a prize. The last link makes the worm video look like a Strawberry Shortcake episode. You know, the one where she acts out on her feelings for Rainbow Brite? It's my favorite episode.

NSFW. NSFAnyone. Shocking. Gross. Even by my standards (which are admittedly low).