Teddy Bears & A Fiendish Thingee...

Guess I'm in trouble for wanting to name my new comic character "Mohammed K. Moose," eh?

Seriously. Lighten up, Francis.

And, no, I wasn't serious about naming a character "Mohammed K. Moose."

I much prefer "Kali, the Kooky Koala" instead!

Wait, should I check and see if Ringo Starr is in town before I say that last bit? Hmmm...

Truth Hits Everybody - Pt. 6...

6) I can't dance.

Truth Hits Everybody - Pt. 5...

5) Sid Meier is teh awesome.

For those unfamiliar with Sid Meier, he's the main brain behind classic strategy series like Civilization (1-4), Colonization and other titles of note.

I first experienced his world by playing Civ 1 back in '93. For its time, that sucker was advanced. You essentially started off as a national leader (you get to choose from a selection of leaders, countries or can customize your own) in the year 4000 BC. You directed your civilization's growth, trade & technological research throughout the years. You could build and explore the world, go to war or cooperate with your neighbors, whatever you chose to do.

The brilliance in this game was that you could never play the same game twice. Infinite possible endings to your civilization's story. I'd been warned by a friend that this game could suck one in if you weren't careful.

He wasn't kidding. I bought the game on a night before a two day block of time off from work. I think I did little more than sit there and play that damned game. Combined, I believe I spent 34 hours playing that first time.

This was a pattern that was to continue whenever something new would arrive on the market either from Sid Meier or from Will Wright (of Sim City & The Sims fame). A few days of hardcore playing followed by a period of moderated gameplay (a couple hours spread here and there throughout the week) until the next title arrived.

Hell, I still fire up Civ1 and Colonization (1995) to this day. Addictive.

The worst now is that I picked up a copy of Sid Meier's "Pirates!" Basically, you are a pirate out to make a name for yourself, rescue your kidnapped family, pillage and plunder, court the hot daughters of island governors, swordfight rival captains and steal their ships and treasure and more.

So, if I disappear for a bit, you know why! :)

Truth Hits Everybody - Pt. 4...

4) I have a hard time letting go.

I have a hard time recognizing the difference between "Of course we'll stay in touch" and "I never plan on speaking to you again" and actually letting it bother me.

I have a hard time in not looking back, looking within, looking without and looking sideways at things before I take a peek at the possible future.

I have a hard time not finding things that I didn't know I was looking for.

I have a hard time remaining silent in the face of injustice.

I have a hard time saying goodbye and knowing that some goodbyes will last a lifetime even if I don't want them to.

Truth Hits Everybody - Pt. 3...

3) I eat turkey with Marie's Bleu Cheese dressing.

Ambrosia mixed with nectar, my friends...

Happy Thanksgiving!

Truth Hits Everybody - Pt. 2...

2) I dressed as a woman one night this past year.

Yes, it's a true story and BEFORE you start laughing and breaking out the snarky commentary, let me tell you why...

I was approached by a good colleague and friend who had a dilemma on her hands. Her workplace is involved in one of the local Relay For Life fund raisers for the American Cancer Society.

For those unfamiliar with Relay For Life, it is an all night walk/run/skip/hop to help raise funds and awareness for cancer research. These are usually raucous affairs, with tons of music, activities, food and lots and lots of walking. They also have a solemn ceremony to pay tribute to cancer survivors and victims complete with a roll call and luminaries in their honour. Overall, Relay's a ton of fun and I've taken part in one Relay or another for about five years now.

Normally, I help out with things like setup/takedown, take pictures of the event and also do my turn as a walker. In years past, I used to take teh Kate with me and she'd keep me company for the miles ahead.

Oh, for the salad days when all I had to do was walk ten miles and take a few pictures, right?

Well, this year I was tapped for something different. As part of these events, there is in some Relays an event called the "Mr./Ms. Relay Pageant." While some Relays hold to a convention of the males running for the "Mr." title and ladies for the "Ms." title, many choose to switch to the more hilarious "cross-dressing" option.

Yep, I was asked to stand for Ms. Relay.

I wasn't so sure that I was prepared to accept this mission, so I told them, "lemme know if no one else signs up for this first..." Uh huh, yeah, good plan.

So, a few weeks later, there I stood...

The theme this year for the team was sort of a Surfin' For Teh Cure motif and the ladies pooled together resources to transform me from a 6ft 4in tower of virile manliness (heh) to a 6ft 4in surfer babe. A curly blonde wig was provided as were a t-shirt with a female figure (complete with coconuts over teh boobies), a tasteful black ankle length skirt with tasteful flowers on one leg and a large cowboy surferesque sunhat to cover the wig.

I dressed at my friend's apartment and was scheduled to go on around 0230, which was a silent blessing in my mind. I hauled on the skirt, shirt, wig and hat. I was not about to stuff fake boobies in my shirt since I always found that tacky. Hey, if I'm going to the length of dressing up as a gal for the evening, I could at least avoid the obvious stereotypes that go along with men dressing in drag.

Think about it ladies. When a straight guy dresses in drag, what is the NUMBER ONE thing you notice about them right off the bat?

If you answered "fake boobs the size of 747's," you get five points! So, I refused to give into the obvious and skipped the shirt stuffing altogether.

A little toenail polish, lipstick and a pair of flip-flops later and I was a surfer babe alright. I sat in front of the mirror and stared at myself for a few moments before I summoned the courage to step out into the apartment proper.

As the "oooo's" and "ahhhhh's" commenced from the assembled rabble, I padded to the kitchen and chugged a beer.

Then, I had another one. Courage level increasing.

Thirty minutes later, I sucked down one last beer before we had to go. By then, I was feeling alright and it didn't seem to bother me as much that I looked like the ugliest drag queen ever.

We arrived at the event and the British part of me took over. I managed to handle the joking and snarky commentary with a level of calm reserve.

The pageant began and we each had to give a spiel with our "escorts" (ladies dressed as men in hopes of snagging the Mr. Relay title) before walking around the track a few times begging for change. I pretty much had my lines down pat but found myself ad libbing a lot due to the shitty microphone crapping out at the most inappropriate times.

Still, we muddled through it with a bunch of comedy and then we started our walk while the other "contestants" started their spiels.

After a while, we were re-assembled for the results...

...and I was the belle of the ball! Yep, I was voted Ms. Relay - 2007. They gave me some roses, a tiara and a sash and I got to walk around the track for another hour or so with the gal elected "Mr. Relay" as part of my courtly duties.

Overall, the team I was helping ended up getting the most donations, so we were later treated to free fajitas and booze for our efforts. Overall, it was a good evening to get all dizzied up for, neh?

Heh.

Truth Hits Everybody...

Today, in honour of Thanksgiving Day being tomorrow, I offer the top ten true tales of yours truly for two-thousand and seven. Not every entry will contain words that begin with the letter "T", but some may. Regardless of whether they have a "T" in them or not, the truth is in every segment. These tidbits of trivia are arranged in no particular order and are pulled at random from my brain. I hope you enjoy these memories with me.

So, let's begin...

1) I learned how to make chicken pot pie from scratch (except for the pie crust, which admittedly was store bought).

I really should share the recipe soon, especially since it's starting to get fecking cold out there. The reason why I'm proud of this accomplishment is that I love cooking.

There's something almost artistic about crafting food items in such a way that they will be tasty and hopefully pleasant to digest. I rarely have an appreciative audience so I find myself experimenting more for my own pleasure than anything else.

The prospect of making things from scratch is sometimes daunting, more so if there is a time constraint, which is why I have a backup list of easy to make meals that I run through over the course of two weeks. If I have time, I'll play a little with my food. I love to frig with recipes as well as to experiment with new ideas.

And would you believe that I'm able to cook dinner for $3 to $7 on most nights?

As odd as it may seem, I didn't really learn how to cook by watching my mom do it. True, she is an awesome cook in her own right, but it was really her father who first piqued my interest in the craft of home cookery. My grandfather, who had learned for himself how to cook by way of both cooking meals in the firehouse as well as learning at the feet of my grandmother (who could out-cook Chef Ramsey any day of the week and twice on Sunday).

It was after my grandmother's illness set in that my granddad took over the cooking full time. I was at the time a starving college kid, so finding foodstuffs that broke up the usual monotonous string of ramen, spaghetti, ramen and hot dogs was a priority.

For my birthday one year, he sent me a pressure cooker. Once I learned how to use the thing properly... Ach mein gott! Tastyfoods galore.

We used to trade recipes, everything from Chicken & Dumplings to those meat sandwiches that my grandma used to make for us. I learned a lot of getting the most for my dollar when it came to the food budget and found that I actually enjoyed the process of cooking, a form of creativity in itself.

-----To be continued

Hannah Hannah Bowbanna...

Read this real quick...

Pay real attention to what one mom said:

""My daughter will choke me," says Debbie Piscitella, 41, mother of 9-year-old McKenna and 6-year-old Sebastian. "If I lose, I'm done. I might as well not even go home."

Lady, I hope you're kidding. She'll get over it, trust me. Kids need disappointment every now and then in their lives, it builds character. If you give them everything they want, they become spoiled little Veruca Salts that grow up into spoiled adult-sized Veruca Salts who expect the world on a plate and they want it NOW, DADDY!

Hell, I don't even have kids and yet I understand that.

If her kid has indeed that much control over the household, how can the precious gem deal with her mum away from home for almost two weeks instead of catering to her every need? I guess Hannah Montana, the latest in a series of future former Disney child star train wrecks, must be the proverbial shite with the kids these days.

Let us not forget what frightful horrors that Britney brought into this world.

An E-Mail to Co-Workers...

Date: Mon, 5 Nov 2007 17:33:38 [05:33:38 PM CST]
From: Robert ****************
To: *** Staff
Subject: An Important Message That You Must Read.

Fellow Co-Workers,

I have been rather appalled by the recent state of both the break area and restroom facilities. After what I witnessed today, it would not entirely surprise me to discover that one or possibly two members of our staff were indeed raised by wolves.

First of all, let us discuss the topic of community food. Today I discovered three pieces of pizza in a box that had three neat bites taken out of them as if someone had claimed them and left them behind with a personal mark to protect their lunch instead of wrapping the pizza up in foil or putting it on a plate marked with their name.

It's this simple: whenever the business is either provided with or is providing food to you and your fellow employees, that carries with it an unspoken social contract between yourself and your co-workers. While most regard this contract in layman's terms as simply observing proper etiquette (or table manners), there is actually a serious health and safety issue reason behind it.

For example, if you are either attempting to reserve a set number of food items for yourself or disposing of uneaten food, please have the common courtesy to not put your half eaten food back in the original tins/boxes/containers so that they touch or mix with the untouched food. Use a plate, a paper towel or perhaps encase your chow within a sheet of our helpful metal friend, aluminum foil.

That is unless you actually WERE raised by jackals and enjoy sharing the contents of your disease-infested mouth with the forty-three other people who work here. Lord knows we'll ALL cherish that.

Secondly, whomever keeps refilling their water bottles at the water cooler, please have the common courtesy to NOT do so. Don't be an uncultured barbarian. Get a clean glass or a disposable cup. That's what they are for.

I also pray to all that's sacred that no one is foolish enough to stick their mouth under the water cooler tap although I have my suspicions. No one is personally interested in either seeing a lipstick coating on the water cooler spout, or inheriting your illnesses. Again, please keep your germy mouth away from the water cooler at all times.

Next we will discuss proper bathroom etiquette.

It should be common sense for people to clean up after themselves in the restroom, but apparently in some cases, this needs spelling out in excruciating detail.

1) If you use up the last roll of toilet paper, put another roll on the spindle. There are at least fifty spare rolls on the shelf in the bathroom. Make that extra effort to grab one and load it on the spindle. It won't hurt you to do so, I assure you.

2) Flush when you have transacted your business with the toilet. Do not let any waste linger as a special hidden treasure for the next employee to discover and marvel at. Trust me, we are in no way impressed with the length, width, colour, aroma or texture of your personal waste products.

Before you leave that restroom, FLUSH IT DOWN. When in doubt, FLUSH AGAIN. Briefly inspect the interior of the bowl and leave NOTHING lingering behind as evidence.

Ask yourself, "Have I performed my patriotic duty to the fullest extent by giving the toilet a good and proper flushing?"

If this means that you have to spray the Lysol to cover up the embarrassing odor, you'd better damned well do it.

If the bowl needs emergency sanitary care, tend to it yourself. Do NOT leave the bowl looking like Chernobyl for that is simply against the rules of a decent society.

Your co-workers should not have to don Haz-Mat suits or surplus personal gas masks in order to use the bathroom.

3) If you use all the soap, replenish the supply by refilling the dispenser with more soap. The extra soap container is right next to the toilet paper. Yes, they are still both on the same shelf in the restroom as they have been for years, standing quiet vigil in the corner of the restroom.

If you leave the restroom and someone finds the dispenser empty as you vacate the facility, it's fairly obvious to the person coming in after you that you are a filthy individual who doesn't wash their hands between using the restroom and using shared equipment or potentially shaking hands with a client. That, my friend, is just nasty.

If that person described above is you, what's wrong with you?!?! Were you seriously raised by lions? WASH YOUR HANDS. REFILL THE SOAP DISPENSER IF NECESSARY.

Refill the paper towel dispenser as well if it requires it. Would you like to guess where the paper towels are located?

That's right! ON THE SAME SHELF AS THE EXTRA HAND SOAP AND THE TOILET PAPER.

4) Double check the area to ensure that you have properly FLUSHED, replenished NEEDED SUPPLIES, cleaned up any trash/mess that you may have left and WASHED YOUR HANDS.

5) Then, and ONLY THEN, may you leave the restroom.

I hope this little guide is of use to the unwashed heathens here who cannot think of others as well as themselves. To everyone else who follows proper bathroom / break area etiquette, thank you for putting up with me for a few moments.

Remember kids, WHEN IN DOUBT, FLUSH.

Thanks,

-Robert

That Midnight Train Is Winding 'Round...

I woke up this morning thinking that today was the day when everything would just be alright.

I went to bed tonight thinking that today was the day when everything was just like the day before.

And somewhere in between one day and another, I lost track of the day before and started over the next day with the exact same thought.