andtheansweris

In honour of P. Diddy

2006-02-07T14:08:00.000-05:00

In honour of P. Diddy once again changing his name, apparantly the "P" was getting between him and his fan, I have provided all with a great link.

Chech out the Rap Star Name Gererator.

From now on my fans I will only respond to O-Killer!

Word!

A look at my 2005 Predictions and new prognostication for 2006

2006-01-06T14:08:00.000-05:00

Here's a link to my 2005 Predictions. Not bad eh? Although the Project of a New American Century boys made damn sure the Iraq elections didn't result in the election of a new pain in democracy nut job, and California didn't as predicted fall into the Pacific Ocean, most of the others were on the money.

Okay, so predicting that OBL wouldn't be found was a no-brainer. They're still looking for this dude in all the wrong places. Pssst. Look for him in the palaces of his family in Saudi Arabia.

Again calling for Brit to get knocked up was again a no-brainer, but come on. Calling the kid Sean Preston. What the hell. Did anyone see that coming. I didn't think so.

Oil prices decline and the big three launch a bigger SUV. Okay so I didn't exactly nail that one. But they haven't changed their business plan either. So I'll call that on a tie.

Mother Nature pimp slaps North America. WOW, not only did she pimp slap us, but she opened a big'ol can of woop ass as well.

Pissed off hockey fans kidnap Bettman and Goodenow and force them to duke it out in a winner take all.....Would have happened too if that pansy Linden hadn't stepped in. I would have had money on Bettman. A guy who has already sold his soul wouldn't have lost to a pussy like Goodenow. So I'm going to call that one a tie as well.

So the score is two not even close, one disqualified because of out side interference, three on the money and two ties. Not bad.

2006 prognostication

1. Arthur wins the lottery.

2. Aliens come from space and declare Arthur supreme ruler of Earth.

3. Arthur finds a suit case full of money, uses the money to fund a coup and becomes dictator of a small, white sand island in the south pacific.

4. Arthur discovers a cure for low female libido. Uses money earns from licensing for new drug to develop a cure for high male libido. Line ups a drug stores spill out into the streets and cause a month of rioting all over the world. Arthur is sued for billions and has to go into hiding.

5. Arthur wins second lottery.

Boy I hope my odds are the same this year.

Merry Christmahanukahkwonza

2005-12-23T10:16:00.000-05:00

In the holiday tradition of boring friends and relatives nearly to death with an inane but truthful opus of the past years events, I have decided to write this, my first Christmas Letter blog. However, 2005 really sucked and I don’t want to tell anyone about it. In fact, 2005 ranks up there for me with say….a home invasion.

So, I have decided to completely fabricate my Christmas Letter instead, and because I am too damn lazy to actually write the entire thing at once, I have also decided to write in several parts. Enjoy.

The most wonderful thing about Christmas is it gives us time to share all our achievements with our friends and families. Personally I find one of the most enjoyable parts of the holiday is to read the letters of our friends from around the world and discover just how inadequate they are in comparison. “Oh little Megan lost a tooth”, “Grandma got new glasses”. Honestly, what Crap! Next year please don’t bother unless you have something exciting to tell me.

The big adventures of 2005 started a little later than in 2004. It took me until the middle of January to emerge from the depression caused by reading all those Christmas letters we received. But we quickly made up for lost time. Wifey thought the best way to wrench me from my funk was to take me on a deep sea fishing expatiation in the tradition of Ernest Hemingway. We flew first class into Miami and the flight was fantastic. While the kids napped, Wifey and I took the opportunity to re-new our membership in the “Mile High Club”. Like I said the flight was fantastic.

Upon arriving in Miami we realized we were both far to loaded to drive so we chartered a limo to take us to Key West. The kids thought the limo was really cool. It had a TV for each of them so they were able to watch their favourite shows while we made our way to the resort. The ride was very nice for Wifey and I as well as the limo was well stocked with champagne.

After a few days of lying in the sun, eating and drinking like royalty, I finally worked up the ambition to charter a boat to take me fishing. I was back, completely renewed and out of my funk. The next day the boy and I made our way out on the Gulfstream for a man’s adventure of a lifetime. We set out early and made for the 90 miles between the Keys and Cuba, where the big fish are known to be. I wasn’t after dinner. I was after the chance to wrestle with a Marlin, sailfish, tuna or wahoo. I was after a legend, a god of the sea.

The boy was the first to get a hit. A 42 pound Tarpon and a hell of a fighter. The fish was leaping about 10 feet out of the water. It was amazing to watch. No sooner had the boy landed the fish when I had my first strike, a 28 pound mahi-mahi. Not a bad little fighter, but not what I was after. The boy landed another Tarpon and a Snapper that weighted in at 39 pounds. Then I got the big strike, a 193-pound swordfish. It took three and a half hours in the fightin’ chair to land the spectacular fish. At times I thought the fish was going to win the epic battle, other times I thought she had given in to her fate only to be amazed by yet another burst of life. When the battle finally ended and we had our pictures, we let the fish back into the sea.

We ended the trip back at the marina by cooking up the mahi-mahi in a smoked lemon and honey marinade. Delicious!

The last few days of our trip was spend back at the resort relaxing and enjoying a little family time and trying to decide what to do next. My vote was for Northern Spain after the kids had finished school. We could be there just in time for the Festival in Pamplona and the Running of the Bulls.

END OF PART 1

"Common People like me"

2005-12-02T14:43:00.000-05:00

CBC radio just aired a song by William Shatner called "Common People".

The song was so bad. It was one of those songs he talks through without ever actually singing a note and like his commercials on tv, he presents it with a Dennis Leary "I'm an Asshole" kind of thing.

The wired thing is I really liked the song. I know in my heart I shouldn't but it couldn't be helped. I respect any one who looks at life is his/her own private amusement park. I myself have been accused of viewing the world as something that exists only for my enjoyment so really how could I not like Shatner?

To quote Eddie Murphy, "William Shatner is the coolest white guy on the planet"

World's Shortest Fairy Tale

2005-11-22T15:37:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time, a guy asked a woman "will you marry me?"

The woman said, "NO!"

So the guy went fishing, played golf a lot, drank loads of beer and farted whenever he wanted, and lived happily ever after.

THE END

I'd like to present Exibit A to the Jury!

2005-11-09T14:14:00.000-05:00

You Should Get a JD (Juris Doctor)

You're logical, driven, and ruthless.

You'd make a mighty fine lawyer.

What Advanced Degree Should You Get?

SPAMMERS of the world unite!

2005-10-12T11:14:00.000-04:00

As an occasional blogger I have to admit I enjoy knowing that someone out there is reading my ramblings. Normally I get one, maybe two comments and sometimes one of them isn't Trillian. But imagine my surprise this past Monday when I check and there has been eleven comments to a various number of my posts. I was absolutely trilled....right up until I read the comments.

Actually, I should have had an idea that my posts were spammed when at Thanksgiving dinner, my mother in law mentioned something about it. I thought she had been offended by my M I L F post, (Notice what I did there? Spacing it out like that.) and didn't give it too much thought, because if I worried about offending family, I'd never get to speak!

SO, from now on I will stop using "bad words" in my posts, and make no references to sexual slang or banter.

On second thought, Fuck it, I'll just delete the SPAM

RUN FOREST RUN

2005-10-04T14:38:00.000-04:00

I was asked recently to run a marathon.

I said, "Piss off".

They said "Come on, it's for spastics and blind kids."

Then I thought....FUCK, I could win this....

Always look on the bright side of life....

2005-09-30T09:36:00.000-04:00

I think I may have mentioned on occasion that I love coffee. I don't drink nearly as much of it as I did earlier in the year, what with being told I may have stomach cancer only to find out the enormous volume of coffee I was drinking was striping the lining off my gut. But that's another story. Anyway, there is still nothing like a hot cup of really fresh, really good coffee. Every morning I grind the beans to make the coffee, and the beans too come from a coffee bean monger at the market who roasts the beans daily. FRESH, that's the key to a good cup of coffee and It's well worth the effort.

This morning I remembered what I think was the best coffee I have ever had. I had it on a frozen lake in Northern Ontario in minus 40 degree weather during my first ice fishing trip with Retro Boy and Eddie. I have no idea what the wind chill was. Hell, it was minus 40 to begin with, how much colder can it get?

So after about a hour standing, back against the wind wondering what the hell I was doing, wishing I still had some Scotch in my flask, out of the ice fishing hut comes Eddie, cups of coffee in his hands. "I didn't know there was a coffee maker in the hut" I exclaim. "It's instant!" answered Eddie with a smile. Oh well, I thought. It's hot. And has non-dairy creamer in it. I drink my coffee black. Oh well, I thought again. It's hot.

I remember taking the first sip with more than a bit of trepidation. Was the fact that this milky-brown liquid was hot, enough to satisfy the coffee snob in me? Would its maker get mad at me if I used it to melt the ice forming over my hole...in the ice? I raised the twenty year old travel mug to my mouth and took an insignificant sip. As soon as the liquid hit my lips my taste buds began to explode. It was fantastic. I starting breathing in huge amounts of the milky brown liquid and before long the mug was empty. I looked over a Retro Boy, perhaps he was too proud to drink instant, unknowing of the ambrosia it was. Nope. Gone. I walked over to him and before I had a chance to say anything he said in as much amazement as I was feeling that it was the best coffee he had ever had.

This got me thinking. How could a cup of year old instant coffee with artificial whitener possibly taste better than a fresh cup of $22 a pound, Ethiopian Java Supremo? Perhaps it had something to do with the environment. That's the answer. It must be. Let's look at the facts:

Won over $200 a the casino the night before and blow all the money on a great meal and a lot of beers at a little pub in Huntsville.

Drank nearly two thirds of a bottle of 18 year old MacCallan.

Slept in till about 10:00 am and woke up without a hangover. See above.

Found a great little greasy spoon for breakfast (no signage on the place, must be word of mouth only): Three eggs, six sausages, home fries, and home made beans, two pieces of toast and a coffee - $4.25. I dropped a twenty and covered the meal for the three of us and a $7.25 tip for the waitress.

Dressed in about ten layers of cloths, clamored onto the back of a snow mobile a rode out across a frozen lake in minus 40 degree temperature.

Ah, this is where my theory kind of falls apart. Or does it?

Now if I had that coffee after the steak and lobster diner I had the night before, it likely would have ruined the entire meal, well, except for the garlic butter on the mashed potatoes! That was awesome. So I'm thinking that a little of a good thing when you're surrounded by discomfort makes that thing extraordinary.

To further make my point I refer to a commercial about donating your old eyeware to Lens Crafters so they can send them to third world children. It was a while ago, but I'll always remember it. They show this little boy, about 10 years old wearing glasses obviously donated by an old lady. Even though he's wearing big round lenses, tortoise shell frames, he's beaming with pride. He's smiling from ear to ear because for the first time he can see.

Proves my theory don't you think? So if your life's a piece of shit, when you look at it, to get some joy you don't need to go out and get something huge, because a little thing is all you need to make you life better. And it's a lot easier to find a little thing!

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM

2005-09-27T16:00:00.000-04:00

Have you ever had the desire to kill someone? Not actually pull the trigger and usher some dumb ass to a dirt nap, but have you ever really wanted to not see or hear from someone again, EVER!

I have. About twice a week. That's how often I get to hear the boom, boom, boom from this fucking moron who parks his car in front of my office while he uses the ATM. I can hear him coming minutes before he pulls into the parking lot and when he gets to the parking lot, he jumps out leaving the car running and the bass blasting. Don't get me wrong, I'm not an grumpy old man complaining about "those damn kids". I like my music loud and when I'm alone in the car, which is often, I try to have it loud enough so not to hear my own singing. If you have ever heard me sing, and I know you haven't, you would appreciate the gesture.

BUT this guy....

First of all the car is a complete piece of shit. It's green with rusty highlights. Granted he has pimped the ride a little with chrome hubs and custom tinted windows, but it's still a piece of shit rusty green domestic car with air bubbles in the window tint. Second, the subs he's using must have been home made and installed personally. I have never heard anything so bad. Why the hell draw that kind of attention to yourself in this car. And third, well there isn't a third of all, the first two say it all.

I think the next time I'm going to get Zaphod on his ass and steal his piece of shit stereo on wheels. But then I'd have to drive in it. Hmmm, apparently this is going to take some thought.

People helping people

2005-09-12T10:38:00.000-04:00

I have to admit that I haven’t paid a lot of attention to the human tragedy that has unfolding in New Orleans. It's not that I don't care because truly I do both from the political point of view and the social. But the one thing I did notice as I am sure everyone else has is how quickly ordinary people were to respond. Celebes like Harry Connick Jr. were knee deep filthy water carrying the sick and the old to what clearly most have seemed like salvation, school children collecting tens of thousands of dollars in the first few days to help people they will likely never know, people helping people.

Ordinary Americans took what I can only describe as ownership of the tragedy. They felt it, they came together and they owned it, just like I would expect them to do. Meanwhile, the government of those same people blamed each other for the failures and did almost nothing. The first emergency response team to reach New Orleans was reportedly from Vancouver British Colombia, 4863km away.

Please help me understand this. I don't understand the dichotomy. How can people that can come together so quickly, in the absence of public authority, allow a system of government that so obviously does not represent their values. How can people that so clearly hold community, compassion and such a deep sense of social responsibility allow their elected officials at all levels to deflect blame?

No level of government is responsible for the weather, but they are responsible for the human tragedy! Hold them accountable.

You know when I think of "self serve" I.....wink, wink!

2005-08-24T09:34:00.000-04:00

A lot has been said about the rising price of gasoline and clearly a lot more should be said. Unfortunately most of what is being said is stupid shit like "the government should call an inquiry...", "the government should lower taxes on gas...", "the government should fix prices...". While I agree prices are high, any fool can see that, I do not agree with the solutions I have heard most so many people. The way I see it the price of oil is a key determinant of the price of gas. The price of oil is determined by international supply and demand, and international demand is only going in one direction, same as here.

Besides, judging by the number of SUV's, cars with big V8's, the fact that everyone has forgotten how to walk*, and that all the gas stations have spent the money to outfit their signs to accommodate the increase, gas prices are never going down.

If I could only get my van to drive on bullshit and stupidity.

* my neighbour drives her dogs to the park in their SUV to take them for a walk. It's a thirty minute round trip on foot.

Not so PC

2005-08-19T09:46:00.000-04:00

To say that my client base includes a diverse cross section of Canada's social economic strata would be a wee bit of an understatement. Anyway, it is often difficult to pigeon hole people into these sections. For instance, one of my wealthiest clients is the most foul-mouthed sexists I have ever met, but given his personal wealth you'd expect him to be...well a hell of a lot more refined.

I just happened to be sitting with this client this morning. We had been talking about the current market conditions and the state of the economy as he saw it, mostly it's him talking at lenght about something I had read months ago, when a young woman pushing a "buggy" walked by the office. He stopped the conversation dead, turned to me and asked if I knew what the was. Curious as to what he would come up with I said no. "that's a yummy mummy" he exclaimed. (Actually, I knew the young woman and she was actually a yummy babysitter, but knowing that would have really set him off.) He then proceeded to explain to me the difference between a yummy mummy, a soccer mom and MILF (Mom I'd like to F..K).

Yummy Mummy: a hottie mom with a baby or toddler.

Soccer Mom: a hottie mom with kids 6-11

MILF: Stifler's Mom from American Pie. A hottie mom with teenage kids.

So there you have it in case you ever wondered. I need a drink and it's only 10:30!

Now I see where I've been going wrong.

2005-07-14T23:22:00.000-04:00

From a strictly mathematical viewpoint it goes like this:

What Makes 100%? What does it mean to give MORE than 100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%? We have all been to those meetings where someone wants you to give over 100%. How about achieving 103%? What makes up 100% in life?

Here's a little mathematical formula that might help you answer these
questions:

If:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z is represented as:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26.

Then:

H-A-R-D-W-O-R-K
8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%

and

K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E
11+14+15+23+12+5+4+7+5 = 96%

But,

A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E
1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%

And,

B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T
2+21+12+12+19+8+9+20 = 103%

But look how far ass kissing will take you.

A-S-S-K-I-S-S-I-N-G
1+19+19+11+9+19+19+19+14+7=118%

So, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that While Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, it's the Bullshit and Ass kissing that will put you over the top.

My docotor said...

2005-07-08T09:50:00.000-04:00

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. ~Dr. Seuss

AC, Sweet AC.

2005-06-29T09:55:00.000-04:00

I finally got the AC back into my office. Thankfully. It has been like wearing a suit into a sauna. See, normally I don't mind any type of weather if I am dressed appropriately and sitting in a 32 degree (89.6 Fahrenheit or if you rather 305.15 Kelvin) office in a suit is not being dressed appropriately. It could have been worse though. The pickled herring could have spent the weekend in my office garbage as I had planned, but the cleaning lady showed up that evening and emptied the trash, which was unusual because she is never there on Friday.

Now it may have been the heat over the past three weeks, or a sudden and unexplained moment of clarity, but I had a thought. Not just any thought, but a terrible thought. It was a Stephen King's The Stand kind of thought. It was, what if my goofy predictions for 2005 were to come true? Okay several of them are coming true, but those were the easy ones. Honestly, it was only a matter of time before Brittany got "with child". But what if mother nature did deal us a big nasty? Could you survive? If the power went off and stayed off, could you adapt and overcome? Would you know how to find food after the grocery stores have been emptied? Remember, without power most modern farms would not function. There would be no fresh water to drink. No gas to run your BBQ, or even heat and cool your home.

Wifey and I rented The Stand the other night and through the whole damn thing I kept thinking. What would I do? What I mourn the loss of our society? If I could protect those I loved, would I actually care or would I welcome the apocalypse?

andtheansweris, I think I could, I most likely wouldn't, survive and mourn respectively.

London broil anyone?

2005-06-10T15:07:00.000-04:00

It's been hot in South Western Ontario. Hot, like Africa hot! But humid. Really humid, like the jungle, not that I have ever been in or near a tropical jungle, but I have watched an episode or two of Survivor.

To quote a line in Good Morning Vietnam, "Warm? No. This is the setting for London broil."

So now that I have it established that I think it's hot I'll speed up to the real issue of today. Actually the same issue I've had all week, but it's been to hot to write about it.

Last week the property owner of the building that my office is in had a crew of heating and cooling boys out to give the system a check-up. The only problem they found was an old noisy blower that didn't seem to have any function other than to make noise and blow very little air apparently nowhere. So they did what anyone would do. They removed it without telling anyone.

Well that P.O.S. little noisy blower did have a function and a very important one actually. It blow the cold air into my office. You see, my office was the result of a renovation several years ago and the tenant (my business partners) not wanting to actually spend any money to upgrade the heating and cooling system, simply had the heating and cooling contractors install an old noisy blower, which as I mentioned was removed a week ago.

SO until the heating and cooling boys come back to reinstall the old noisy blower (Yes, they are going to reinstall the old P.O.S. instead of paying for a new one) I will have to accept the temperature of my office being a London broil setting.

I wonder how bad the pickled herring I found in the staff fridge is going to smell after spending the weekend in my garbage can?

Words of wisdom. Pass it on!

2005-06-03T12:58:00.000-04:00

'I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning that's as good as they're going to feel all day.'

Frank Sinatra

Do you like dog?

2005-06-01T09:52:00.000-04:00

This was a question asked of me many years ago by a youngster I uneffectionately called Einstein. He was not asking do I like dogs? like the animal. He was asking if I liked dog, as in food. Not dog food either, I mean dog!

Lets jump back 11 years. At that time Trillian and I were living in a rented townhouse. Many of our neighbours were great. Many were not! Some were really bad like the people on either side of us who every weekend would have a loud party. They would stick the kids at the others home so to insulate them from the music, foul language and drunkenness. This meant that every weekend we were beside drunken country and western party. Yeeha!

Then there was the mother of Einstein and his little brother I called Newton. They had an older sister. She was actually a really intelligent little girl now that I think of it. I didn't have a name for her. Anyway, E and N's mother was a breeder. She was having kids one after the other for the entire time we lived there. In the summer she would lock E and N out of the house while she looked after her babies, or napped or whatever. This meant that E and N, (4 and 3 years old) pretty much had to look after themselves for most of the day. They would play and fight and yell and blow these little fucking whistles, and ride their bikes too close to my car and yell and fight and blow whistles a little more. This generally started at around 6:30AM. I was going to University at the time, so most mornings I was either hungover or exhausted from playing video games till 5:00 so I really hated the two of them. Every time they left their whistles in the parking lot I would run over them with my car. I would have run over the bikes or other toys they left around, but I was never sure if they belonged to E and N or if they had pinched them from my place or someone I liked.

They were very bold kids too. They never hesitated to walk up to adults and engage them in conversation, or what passes for conversation to a 4 year old. I couldn't sit on my porch without one of the two coming over an bothering me.

The day of the "do you like dog?" coversation was like many other summer days at the townhouse. They started making noise first thing in the morning. They continued making noise through lunch, but at least by this time my hangover was nearly gone. Then they would disappear for a while. I think this must have been when their mother opened the door and let them in for dinner.

This was my time. Quite time. No one to bother me time and also usually dinner time. Then like now I BBQ'd almost every day. Chicken mostly now, steak mostly then. So I'm standing in front of my grill BBQ'in a great big prime rib steak, beer in one hand, tongs in the other when all of a sudden Einstein, the little bastard creeps up behind me and asks what I'm doing, scares the shit out of me. I tell him I'm cooking my dinner and turn back to my grill. But he doesn't go away. He starts asking all sorts of questions, non of which I can remember, except one.

"what are you cookin?"

I turned around and looked down at him and said. "I'm cooking your neighbours dog!" To which he responded, "hmmm, do you like dog?"

PS: his neighbours dog was a Rotti. BIG Fucker. I hated him too!

Life, don't talk to me about life!

2005-05-06T12:06:00.000-04:00

All my life I have had a problem with follow-through. It's not that I have no ambition, or determination, it's just that once I know I can do something, and do it well, there is no fun in it anymore. I get bored!

My career for example. I own a financial services company. I sell investments and insurance and do financial planning. Last year I made a lot of money for my shareholders, didn't work all that hard and yet by year end I was starting to get bored! I started looking for a new challenge which is why I started to build a new political party. It's a thrill of the hunt kind of thing I guess.

It's wired, but I seem to almost regret success and believe me I know success because I also know failure and you cannot know one without the other.

There are a few things that I never seem to get bored of though. Being a husband and father for one. Doesn't seem like you can ever really do either well enough . Especially the father part. Man kids are killer!

I don't get bored of cooking either, in fact I had thought about the culinary arts as a career. There was only one reason I didn't. Money. Looking back I was such a fool, but at the time it made sense. Too much work and not enough money. Now I have enough money and lots of time and sit here in my office wondering what I am going to make for dinner.

RRROLL UP THE RIM TO....

2005-04-14T12:54:00.000-04:00

read "please play again".

I don't go to Tim Horton's very often. It's not that I don't like their products. In fact, I like them very much. I can't say no when asked if I would like a donut or muffin with my large, one sugar, which is way I don't often go to Tim's. Today for example I ordered an apple fritter with my soup. It was still warm when the counter-chic handed to me. I ate it first. Before my soup. Oh baby it was good, but that's not what I want to bitch about, how could I, it was...

Anyway, this Roll up the Rim contest has gotten shitty. I used to win all the time but this time only twice. The first time it was a free donut, which I lost and the second was a free muffin, which was bran and made me need to shit at work. I think I have mentioned how I feel about that.

And it's not just me. Everyone I talk to is also coming up dry on the winner side. It seems to me that Tim Horton's has not bothered to increase the prize pool along with the increase in coffee sales. Last year Tim's grew by 20% same-store sales. Were there 20% more prizes. I doubt it! Although I can't actually say for certain they didn't.

So I present the Arthur Factor for analysis.

Cups of coffee purchased during the RUTRTW contest: 23

Cost of goods purchased: $28.75

Cups of coffee normally purchased over similar period: 2

Cost of goods purchased: $2.50

Total prize value (including the lost donut) $1.74

Net benefit to Arthur: ($24.51)
(not excluding the shits I got from the bran muffin)

Now say there are at least 500,000 people across the country who like me increase Tim's coffee consumption during the contest (I just pulled the figure out of my ass. It's not significant in any way). That would mean an increase in sales of $12.2 million. Of course I checked the Tim Horton's website for odds of winning, which turned out to be 1 in 9, which nearly corresponds to my actual results, which means I have nothing to complain about other than being just slightly below average in terms of odds.

I'm outa here.

2005-04-08T14:37:00.000-04:00

I have decided to pursue the creation of my new political party with much more vigour. I will not be writing for some time, not that I write all that much now. I would however like input. I am creating a moderate but progressive federal political party, fiscally responsible and socially accountable. What would you like to see? Email me at tnppofc@gmail.com and let me know.

2005-04-08T13:38:00.000-04:00

My job forces me to interact with the public on a day to day basis. It's the same job I have had for about 7 years, although the employer has changed twice and I now work for myself. In that time I have interacted with a lot of people. What has become painfully clear to me is that a majority of people are more likely to take advice from some clown on the TV or a guy a work who knows somebody that knows something, rather than me.

"I read on the internet...."! Gawd I hate those words. I know when a client comes into my office and begins a conversation with "I read on the internet" or if they are carrying a copy of a weekly magazine that had an investing piece in it, it's going to mean a swift but certain pain in the ass for me.

There have been so many times in my seven years in the financial business that I have wanted to look a client squarely in the eyes and say "you're a fucking moron, now get out of my office!" Oh ya, that would be sweet.

I'm not saying I am right all the time. Fuck, I'd be happy being right most of the time! Well okay, some of the time, but my point is this. Okay, I don't have a point I just wanted to vent a little, no wait, I do want to make a point and it's that people have stopped questioning the source of the information they accept as truth.

We are living in a time when media outlets are quoting bloggers as sources of information. Is it the bloggers that are to blame? No, of course not, not even the ones that are just making shit up. It's the public. The consumer is to blame for accepting this. One of my favourite movie quotes is from Men In Black. J asks: "why the big secret? People are smart, they can handle it." K responds: "a 'person' is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it."

The heart breaking thing is I think it's true. People, the collective consumer I have grown to hate, although I make my living off them, are a bunch of panicky, dumb and dangerous animals. Oh well, what can you do?

Future booze hound

2005-03-21T10:48:00.000-05:00

When I was a little kid I had a habit of snatching my fathers drinks when he wasn't looking. I apparently had an taste for rum and rye whiskey, or so I am told.

My father tells a story of how he tried to break me of this habit by handing me a half bottle of rum after catching me trying to steal a drink from his glass. He thought the taste of straight rum would be so harsh that I would develop an aversion to the taste. I promptly tipped the bottle and took several large drinks. NO PROBLEM! My father never tried that again.

Fast forward 30 or so years to last Saturday night. Wifey and I were having a drink before heading over to friends for a few glasses of wine. Wifey poured herself a little Port and I of course had a "taste" of Scotch. It should be noted that Wifey and I haven't made taboos of things our children know we do. We don't smoke, so it is easy to tell them it's evil. But we drink. So no taboo, just the knowledge that it does have a effect on your brain if you drink too much.

Now Wifey and I were well aware that the Girl liked red wine. She always steals a taste if we leave our glass unattended and she happens by it (which isn't often because the kids are usually in bed when we partake) . Nevertheless, there we were with drinks in hand, enjoying a moment of serenity when the Girl bounces into the room.

"Whatcha drinkin?" she says to Wifey.

"It's called Port" Wifey replied. "want to try?"

I know what Wifey was thinking. It was the same thing my father was thinking thirty years before. It's not what she was expecting and the taste would put her off. She took a tiny little sip and immediately turned up her little nose up. She hated it!

The Girl then walks over to me. "Whatcha drinkin?" she says to me, and I'm thinking hey! maybe it'll work again. "It's called Scotch" I reply. Without even offering she took the glass and had a tiny sip.

"Mmmmm. normal" Then she bounced out of the room.

AAHHHHH!

Words of wisdom. Pass it on!

2005-03-04T10:48:00.000-05:00

I cannot help but notice lately that people are growing increasingly depressed by events in the world. My advice to them is to remember:

If the world didn't suck, we'd all fall off.

Pass it on!

Give a man a fish and he has food for a day; teach him how to fish and you can get rid of him for the entire weekend

2005-02-25T12:55:00.000-05:00

Part Two:

Question:

Do you have to actually catch fish to be called a fisherman, and is it simply enough to stand over a small hole on a frozen lake holding a short stick and freezing your nuts off? Or, are you more of a fisherman if you don't outwit an organism with a brain no bigger than a breadcrumb and just lie about it later?

A fishing pole is a stick with a hook at one end and a fool on the other

2005-02-21T18:58:00.000-05:00

Part one:

I have returned from the Near-Artic none worse for wear, but with a fish story to tell.

The adventure started at about 4:00pm on Friday at Canadian Tire cause if you want to fish in Ontario you need a fishing license, a so called "Outdoors Card" issued by the Ministry of Natural resources and always available at CT.

The card has five spots on the back for your annual sticker, but needs to be renewed and replaced every three years at a cost of 6 dollars. I know what your thinking, why put five sticker spots on a card that needs to be replaced every three?. Eddie, from Not too Serious really needed to know the answer to that question so he called the Ministry from Canadian Tire. The Ministry rep explained that the doubles as a hunting license, which also needs an annual sticker, which of course would mean it should have six sticker spots, but that's another post and I'll leave it to Eddie to post it. God it was funny, especially since my card expired in 2003, yet I have the 2004 and 2005 stickers glued to the back, but I didn't wait until the last minute to renew. I did it earlier in the day.

So with fishing licenses in hand we headed north. Next stop, Casino Rama. It's kind of tradition. We stop in, lose a few bucks, sort of an offering to the First Nations for the fish we hope to take from what was up to a few hundred years ago, their lake. Well if my winning ways didn't carry into the casino. I won $133 on the first machine I sat at. Ethics and Eddie didn't fair so well. I continued to win, they won a little, I lost a few, then won some more.

All in all I think we were all up a little when we decided to leave and continue our trek north. Except Ethics said something about a system and a roulette table. A SYSTEM! Okay, Eddie and I said, lets see it. We tried to goat him into playing. He refused. We called him a pussy for about five minutes. He refused. We told him we'd put up the money. He played. Actually it was Eddie who sat at the table, but we decided to use Ethic's SYSTEM.

We started with $30. We put $15 on Red ($15 was the minimum). We won 2 to 1. Ethics said now bet black so Eddie bet black. I have to tell you I wasn't all that damned impressed when red came up again. Okay so we're back to what we started with. Ethic's said now bet black and then rambled on about probability. Red again! Okay his system wasn't worth shit. We decided to each play a number with our last $15. I played 9. I always play 9. Damn it's a 6. No wait. Are there 91 spots on that wheel? No there is not. That's not a 6, it's a a 9, that's 35 to 1. Oh what a feeling.

We cashed in our chips, split the money and headed out the door.

Steak diner. I needed a steak diner.

If you are ever in Huntsville Ontario, and are in need of a fantastic place to eat. I would recommend a little Pub called Michelle's on the main street. It was a small, owner operated joint with one guy behind the bar, one guy in the kitchen and a woman with a guitar. The food was amazing. (the best antipasto plate I've ever seen). I would also recommend the local micro-brew they had on tap. My steak was perfect. The shrimp that accompanied my steak were perfect, but they forgot to bring out butter for my mashed potatoes. The owner then returned from the kitchen and apologized that there was no more butter to be had, but would garlic butter be okay. Oh baby would it. Damn good meal.

We arrived, quite stuffed at our destination about two hours latter. With nothing better to do we decided to get drunk immediately. Which we did, and did well might I add.

By the way. The Scotch worked. It worked really well.

End of part one.

2005-02-17T14:13:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I set out for what will be my very first ice fishing trip. I, along with Bloggers Ethics gone Bad and Not too Serious will venture out onto a frozen, northern Ontario Lake, drill a hole in the ice and sit for hours hoping to catch our limit. To tell you the truth, there is an uneasy claim about me as I prepare for this adventure.

Don't get me wrong, I am an outdoorsy guy. I've served in the army, albeit the Canadian army, but nevertheless I've done winter indoctrination training in the far north in February. It's just that this time I am completely unprepared. First of all, there is a 30 minute snow-mobile drive to the fish hut. Okay that in and of itself is not a big deal, but me and Ethics will be wearing open face motorcycle helmets. Burrrrrr! Then there is the hours of waiting for the damn fish in a 8x8 uninsulated hut in the middle of a frozen lake, and I only have hiking boots for footwear, which is actually one better than Ethics' Doc Martins. Double Burrrr!. Not to mention I don't own snowpants. I will have several layers of underwear, which should keep my balls from falling off, I'm just not too sure about my nose, fingers and toes.

The only thing that is going to be keeping my warm is the 15 year old companion I will be bringing with me. Before you all get in a huff of misunderstanding I am referring to a 15 year old single malt scotch. A Sherry Cast Maccallan of which I shall enjoy every drop.

So wish me luck. I'll fucking need it!

Looking For Love

2005-02-09T10:15:00.000-05:00

I have a client. Let's call him "Tim". Tim has been a client for about four and a half years and in that time he has been engaged to about three different woman. Tim is about 6 foot, rather good shape (a runner I think). The girls at the front counter of the bank think he's good looking. So what's wrong with Tim that he can't keep a girlfriend?

Now Tim doesn't seem to be hard to get along with, in fact he seems to be a very giving person. Unfortunately for Tim and to quote a Shrek song lyric, "the more I gave, the less I got, oh ya!".

Yes, Tim is a sucker! He's so nice he drives women away, but not before they take advantage of him for a while.

His last girlfriend took him for a bundle. Their new truck, an F150, was bought by him but put in her name. After the break up she got the truck, he got the 500/month payment. I set him straight on that one. I wonder how long it will take Ford Credit to come for her truck?

So there is no question that Tim is simply looking for love and he's willing to pay a premium for it.

But Tim has a new plan. The other night on TV he watched a show on a service that matches Russian women looking for husbands, and well, guys like Tim. The website he showed me as he explained his plan is Russianladies.com

As Tim navigated me through the cite, the one thing that really stuck out in my mind, right after "Oh my gawd these woman are hot" was "oh my gawd, all these women are very well educated, professional and are very likely going to eat Tim alive." But, the more I thought about the more I thought Tim may actually find what he is looking for. A wife to love, start a family and to grow old with. Not that Tim is a good judge of character, but he very well may find a woman that is looking for the same.

So I would like everyone to join me in wishing Tim good luck and safe trip. He leaves for the Ukraine next month.

That's the way John Wayne would have done it!

2005-02-03T13:35:00.000-05:00

There is a new company policy at the office. That, in and of itself is not uncommon. There are new policies every week.

HOWEVER. Actually, let me set this up a little.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, the boy and the girl meet me at my office after school. The boy has karate those nights so it works out well. I get to leave early and he gets to eat before his class. But past few weeks have been really busy and I haven't been exactly done when they got to my office.

Now, just outside my office is a waiting area with a TV/VCR and a few movies for kids to watch. The other day was one of the days I wasn't exactly finished so I had the boy and the girl watch a movie. No problem right? Well, you don't know the boy.

The boy decides he needs to use the washroom as soon as he arrives. I have no problem with that, It's the first thing he always does. I go back into my office to finish up with the client. Little was I aware that the boy never actually made it to the washroom, nor had he ever made it, except the first time. That was the time he discovered the lunchroom full of leftover treats from the previous nights after-work function. Every time after that he was just looking for food like a starving bear cub. On the way back to the office upon discovering there was no food, the boy would stop and talk to everyone whether or not they wanted to be talked too, or rather talked at!

Anyway, the new policy is that if any staff members kids need to be at the office they are not allowed to walk about (because the boy was walking about). They are not allowed to watch the TV (because the boy had it turned up sooooo loud) and they are not allowed in the fridge.

That last one made me wonder. At least until I found out why that policy needed to be implemented. You see the boy was thirsty. He didn't want a drink of water so he decided see what was in the staff fridge. All the time is was under the watchful eye of the new girl.

This must have been his thought process:

Hmmm, soda pop. Not sure if I like that brand. Better take a drink from the bottle to find out. Don't like that one, no problem, there's another bottle. I better try that one too. Yummy. I'll pour a big glass. What's this. Arousal whip-cream. I wonder if it's still good. Better try it to see. Hmmm, I don't want to dirty any more dishes, I better just spray it in my mouth. Yummy. I bet this would be good on my pop........

And that is why there is a new policy.

Me against the "MAN"

2005-01-25T10:58:00.000-05:00

AHHHHHH

I had a post and blogger eat it. Oh well. I try another in a while.

SHIT!

It takes only one drink to get me drunk. The trouble is, I can't remember if it's the thirteenth or the fourteenth.

2005-01-14T09:44:00.000-05:00

I tell all my new clients that I treat every client equally regardless of the size of the portfolio. For the most part this is true but as with everything, some clients are more equal than others. For instance, yesterday evening I took a night appointment at a prospects home. Rarely do I do this because it tends to set a dangerous precedent. I means that from now on I will have to meet them after-hours, and at their home.

Okay, they got mega-bucks so I forgive myself, and like I told Wifey, I’d be in and out in less than an hour. Hmmmm……..WRONG!

The appointment took just under an hour, and all he did was through me a bone, a small part of his portfolio that had been under performing. I was more than a little pissed. The fact I made three grand on that bone took a lot of the pain away. But wait. I mentioned I was there for three hours. What could possibly keep me at a client’s home for an extra two hours? What could possibly make me want to risk Wifey’s wrath?

WELL, the client is a single malt aficionado. Twenty-three bottles in his collection and I was offered a taste of any one of them I wished. At first I refused stating my desire to return home and spent time with Wifey and the boy and the girl. The client took down a 25yr old Highland Park and poured a “taste” into a glass. I wasn’t even in my teens when that malt went into the barrel. Okay, maybe just one “taste”.

WOW. There are so many other words that I could use to describe that whiskey but WOW seems to sum it up best.

Okay, I’m not going anywhere soon. I realized that when the last drop emptied from the glass. I was actually sad to see him put the bottle back on the shelf, but I didn’t cry! I forced back the tears and accepted another “taste”. This time it was an 18yr old Macallan. Very nice, very, very smooth.

What followed was a “taste” of a 16yr old Lagavulin, an almost salty whiskey. Wonderful! Then a 15yr old Glemomorangie that had matured in Bourbon barrels. Mmmm. We followed this with a 15yr old Dalwhinnie that I found a little soft, but very good. Then a Cardu, and a “taste” of Oban. Not bad at all. He finished with a “taste” of a 20yr old Balvenie. Smooth as silk even drunk neat. I asked him if we drank them in any particular order, you know geography, style, whatever. He responded “yes, in the order I took them off the shelf”. I like his style. No pretence, no bullshit! “ the next time you come over I’ll let you try the good stuff”. Oh good lord. It gets better.

If I had of stayed I could have “tasted” the entire collection, other than the “good stuff” but as it was I was getting drunk and it was getting late. I thanked my new best client for the Scotch tour and drove home. As you are all aware, Wifey was loaded, so I was off the hook for being so late.

What a great night!

Happy New Year

2005-01-06T14:10:00.000-05:00

I have to wonder what lies in wait for us in 2005. Any thoughts?

I have a few. Let us call them "Predictions" for the new year.

1. The election in Iraq will go smoother that expected, that is right up until they elect a radical fundamentalist to be president. All future elections will of course be outlawed, women's rights will be, well, non-existent, but the killing will stop, sort of.

2. Osama Bin Laden will continue to not be found by all those looking for him, but luckily most of America will be wondering what ridiculous name Brittany Spears will call her baby girl and continue not paying attention. Oh ya, that kind of ties into number three...

3. Brittany Spears names her baby girl, born in July, either Lady, chastity, or some other thing she ain't or ever was.

4. Oil prices will decline sharply prompting the big auto makers to introduce another great big SUV or the Ultra Sport Utility Vehicle. Dwarfing the Hummer H2 and requiring an extra gas tank, this vehicle will individually produce more toxic emissions than a coal burning power generator.

5. Mother Nature is going to pimp slap the Northern Hemisphere and not in a good way. This will prove once and for all that nature is a mother! A mother that is sick and tired of trying to guilt the world into treating her with respect so she's just going to get up, reach across the table and back hand humanity.

6. Pissed off hockey fans are going to kidnap Bettman and Goodenow and force them duke it out in a winner take all bout to end the Hockey lockout.

7. The big one hits the West Coast and California slips into the ocean. Better start buying up Nevada desert now before it's too late.

All kidding aside. I hope everyone has a great 2005.

Just Relax

2004-12-14T11:41:00.000-05:00

With the pending arrival of Santa just around the corner, I have found it increasingly difficult to focus on work. Actually I always seem to have difficulty focusing on work, but especially this time of year. My vocation is not typically busy this time of year but I still have to put in the face time.

So I put together a quick hit list of sites that are complete time wasters.

www.rinkworks.com/dialect - a translator that can take a boring memo or legal text and translate it into say..."Cockney" or "Redneck". For Example: "As part of our effort to reduce the amount of paper we send, your clients will no longer receive a letter from our office requesting they select their income payments for the upcoming year. "

With Dialectizer using Redneck becomes:

"As part of our effo't t'redooce th' amount of paper we send, yer clients will no longer recieve a letter fum our office requestin' they seleck their income payments fo' th' upa-comin' year."

www.howstuffworks.com - A massive encyclopaedia of how everything works

Cyborg Name Generator at www.cyborgname.com - My alter ego Arthur becomes Artificial Robotic Technician Hardwired for Ultimate Repair.

Roman Numeral Calculator at http://home.hiwaay.net/~lkseitz/math/roman - This one will come in handy when I am doing mutual fund reviews with my clients. “Well Mr. X, looks like your account is only down by LXXVII.”

Don’t forget to check out Shakespeare’s Insult Kit at www.pangloss.com/seidel/shake_rule.html

EP Guides. This site lists all episodes for over 1800 TV series. Now that’s a complete waste of time. Check it out at www.epguides.com

I wish everyone a very happy, safe and prosperous new year, and for those of the Christian faith, have a very Merry Christmas. Too all others “Peace, Love, and Soul”

The more things change the more they stay the same!

2004-12-08T11:22:00.000-05:00

Written for a time they hoped would never return. Too bad it did. But the 60's lead to the 70's and the 70's lead to me my generation and me and my generation will eventually lead us out of the hatred and paranoia. We are next in line to take the seats of power in every country of the world. The baby-boom made sure of that. Power was and still is held by those born in the 30's and 40's and their ideology reflects that.

Most of the people I know and those whose opinion I respect all seem to share similar beliefs. Those of Environmentalism and tolerance, diversity and compromise, ethnic diversity and cooperation. If these are liberal values then I guess I am liberal. But it begs the question. Why aren't you?

Enjoy a little Buffalo Springfield.

"There's something happening here
What it is ain't exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware
I think it's time we stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
There's battle lines being drawn
Nobody's right if everybody's wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Getting so much resistance from behind
I think it's time we stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
What a field-day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly say, hooray for our side
It's time we stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
You step out of line, the man come and take you away
We better stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, now, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down"

Catch 22

2004-11-26T11:11:00.000-05:00

After perusing the Next Blog button for a while this morning I happened across a blog called The Conservative Legion. Notwithstanding the array of humorous pictures and cartoons of his past posts, there was an underlining message that I find rather disturbing.

In his post he calls Fahrenheit 9/11 a tragedy, and two infuriating hours spinning half-truths, supposition, perverted imaginings, and out-and-out lies across the screen, polluting the viewer with anti-American views. Perhaps it was.

But what makes Fahrenheit’s half-truths worse than those of the other side? What is it with humanity that allows some to accept so absolutely the propaganda of one side and to dismiss so absolutely the propaganda of the other?

But there are no absolutes! And there are no complete truths because humans are flawed. Our perceptions cloud our judgement. This post is a perfect example of that. I believe absolutely that being certain and absolute about anything makes you close-minded and anti-human.

Catch-22

The solution to my problem

2004-11-25T16:23:00.000-05:00

If you had read my previous post you could understand what a precarious position the erroneous Email put me in. The clients in question are one of only a handful of very High Net Worth clients I have under administration. Losing them over a little, albeit incredibly embarrassing mistake would not be good for business. The question is, or rather was, what to do?

After cautiously sharing my dilemma with a colleague we hit on an idea to allow the swingers to save face and for me to hopefully save the account.

I Emailed the client back and explained that the virus checker our server uses incarcerated the Email and he would have to re-send the message. He responded quickly to say that the issue he had was resolved and nothing further was needed. Hmmm. I wonder if he bought it? I think Ill take a dont ask, dont tell approach.

Notwithstanding everything I have already told you about my poor, careless client, the humour continues to reinvent itself.

Yesterday at an all day conference in the big city, I was telling this story to a peer group when a very dignified woman with silver hair exclaimed that she knew how embarrassing those parties can be and how her and her late husband attended many in their day. The much younger woman to her left, her daughter, gasped then whispered something into her ear. There was an instant look of horror on her face once her daughter enlightened her to the fact that a swinger party I was talking about had no similarity to the disco parties she went to, and hosted in the 70s.

It took a while, but she eventually found the humour in it. I, as well as everyone else within earshot found the humour right away.

AHHHHH. I'M BLIND

2004-11-22T13:22:00.000-05:00

Have you ever had the misfortune of seeing something you never, never wanted to see. I cannot believe anyone can say no to that question and whether it's walking in on your parents love making, or catching your roommate masturbating etc... it is a tremendous blow to the Zen!

This morning I received my standard 15-20 Email. One of them however was never intended for me but I didn't know that until I opened it. The subject line was harmless FWD: Hello..... but the message, or rather the pictures were anything but.

What I opened was a collection of digital photography intended to be delivered to the participants of a weekend swinger sex party.

I have always believed what consulting adults do in their bedrooms, not to mention livingroom, kitchen, dining room, hall and bathroom, is their own business. BUT, don't email the pictures. Print them out and deliver them by hand, or on a disk.

I deleted the email. I will try to forget what I saw. But I will never open an email from this client again.

Oh the humanity.

2004-11-19T09:48:00.000-05:00

I have long contended that I am losing faith in humanity. All I have to do is look around and it’s clear that society is falling apart. There is a line in Men in Black which that I love. It is a rebuttal by Agent K: ” A person is smart; people are dumb panicky dangerous animals and you know it”

It’s not that I think humans are innately evil, in fact I think the opposite is true. I think humans are social creatures that want and more importantly need a sense of community and belonging. Even blogging is a from of community, albeit a rather anonymous one, but I would bet that most bloggers share more of themselves with their readers than they do their co-workers or perhaps family. The reason I can only assume is the sense of belonging they feel. It’s not barn raising but it works.

But every now and then I witness real random acts of kindness and love and I wonder if I could be wrong about humanity. I witness first hand the story of the Logan’s and the undying love they felt for each other. I see people in my community coming together to provide for a family that lost their house in a fire.

But then!

There is the story of, let us call him Ted. Ted is a client of mine that has been off work for almost 9 months due to failing health. I have spoken with Ted on the phone on several occasions throughout this difficult time, but he has never been up to a face-to-face meeting. That is until today.

Ted walked into my office at 9:15 this morning. He looked really rough, tired and a little thin. I wondered if perhaps he had cancer. Walked slowly over to a seat, took a little donut shaped pillow out of his briefcase, put it on the chair and sat down ever so carefully. Then he proceeded to tell me the entire story of his 9-month ordeal.

HEMORRHOIDS. The guy had hemorrhoids. How fucking bad does it have to get to need to take 9 months off work.

Nine months off work for a really bad pain in the ass!

Humanity is domed.

Sweet, sweet slumber.

2004-11-10T09:19:00.000-05:00

Tuesday nights are hectic. The boy has karate at 6:00 and I don't usually leave my office until 5:00. That give me less than an hour to get both kids home, fed some dinner, dressed, and then driven to their activity. By the time I have dropped of the boy I am usually ready for a nap.

A nap. There's a right that should never be taken away. Schools, offices, factories should all shut down for twenty or so minutes so everyone can have a nap. I wonder if most people remember how. I'm not sure I do. There was a time not long ago when I was in the military that I slept through an artillery simulation. I had been up for nearly two days without a wink, but those things are loud.

Now kids, they know how to nap. Last night after all the running around I wasn't the only one who was tired. The girl had fallen asleep in the van on the way back from dropping the boy off at karate. When we got home I tried to wake her so I didn't have to carry her to the house, but she wouldn't stir. It was like a coma. I carried her in the house and put her on the sofa at which point a child would usually wake up right? Nope, she just curled into a little ball and continued not waking up. A half an hour later, wifey gets home and just in time to pick up the boy.

We tried to wake up the girl so I didn't have to carry her back to the van. We called to her, moved her arms around, plugged her nose. Nothing. Not a stir. We even checked to see if she was still alive. She was alive, but fast, fast asleep. At this point it struck me. I would fucking kill to sleep like that. I would step on a kitten for just twenty minutes. Could you imagine how refreshed you would feel?

Sweet, sweet slumber. May I live to know you again.

Ah shit, it's snowing!

2004-11-08T14:59:00.000-05:00

I have to admit I like cool weather. I would love to live in perpetual autumn with early falls cool nights and sunny days, amazing. I love how fresh all the vegetables are, open air markets and all the changes in the trees with their leaves turning all those brilliant colours.

But I don't live in perpetual fall. I live in Hell and it just froze over. Yes it is snowing in my home town. It's snowing and all I can do is look out the window in disgust. Though I have to say I look more comfortable with the temperature change then the migrant workers that just walked by my office window, bundled up like a 4 year old in a ski-do suit (Injection of Canadiana) and balaklava.

Nevertheless this time of year never fails to piss me off. I am 12th generation Canadian which means not only were my ancestors kicked out of most of the descent countries of Europe, but they had there fucking pick when they got to the new world. I've played golf in West Virginia, not a bad spot, or Georgia, or the Florida Quays (not that I would like to live there now, but..), any of those nice little islands all over the Gulf.

But, no. My ancestors picked British North America, Canada as it is called now. They forwent 24 degree average temperature for a country that typically has termperature swings of 70% from winter to summer.

Well perhaps the pros out weigh the cons. The biggest pro to being Canadian is I can say I was born in a country that gained its independence not through a violent conflict, but a two week bender back in 1867 full of booze, hookers, song and dance.

I AM CANADIAN, but I still hate the fucking snow.

I was just kidding!

2004-11-04T14:12:00.000-05:00

In my last post I mentioned in jest that Democrates could simply move here to Canada to evade Bushdom. Today I read in the Globe and Mail that Immigration lawyers in Toronto have seen a dramatic increase in inquries from Americans, especially from soldiers. This is not good. You, and by you I mean liberials in America must stay and fight. You have four years to get Middle-America to listen to reason. You need to fight and get your country back. Remember freedom? You cannot protect freedom by taking it away. People need to realize that. If you are not there to tell them, they may never hear it.

So it's the devil you know eh?

2004-11-03T10:34:00.000-05:00

"By, By, love. By, By, happiness...I think I'm going to cry"

Kind of says it all for about 160 million Americans, but it's not over till 20,000 lawyers all get their chance to sing. That should sound like seagulls from Finding Nemo, mine, mine, mine

May what ever God you believe in have mercy on you all. But for those of you that can't take it any more Immigration Canada. We're not much more Democratic, and our government is just as bad for entirely different reasons, but no ones tapping your phone, looking into your library records or restricting your constitutional rights.

2004-10-28T14:28:00.000-04:00

It may well have been from years of eating five alarm chili and suicide chicken wings in University that my spicy food threshold remains in the stratosphere but nevertheless I love it hot! I love curries, in particular Vindaloo of lamb, chicken (I have even had goat) oh ya baby bring it on.

Oh ya, jerk. Not me, I'm talking about the ring of fire causing gastric delight from Jamaica. Basically hot, really hot peppers crushed into a sauce with spices like nutmeg and allspice added. It's used as a BBQ marinade for meat. Mmmm.

I love almost everything Thai. The litmus test is of course Pad Thai, but I also love Pad Kee Mao or "drunken noodles" as the dish is often called in Thailand.

Then there is Szechuan or the hot and spicy dishes normally found at your local Chinese food restaurant. Kung po (my son's personal favourite), Hunan or just Szechuan, these are my favourite dishes. Personally, I can do without chicken balls and fried rice, I want the heat.

The past few weeks I've been hankering for dish that would bring a tear to my eye, but haven't had an opportunity to make into the "big city". Today was no exception so I would have to be content to stand around and complain about it. Then it happened. It was so unexpected. I was told of a place in town that makes a super hot Szechuan noodle dish. I was so exited I think I giggled a little. I raced down the street to the restaurant, ordered the dish. The waitress asked
"do you want it hot". I answered " oh ya".

The wait reminded me of Christmas when I was kid. Excruciating. My noodles arrived. I took the neatly wrapped package from the waitress with a smile and walked briskly back to my office. I was smiling like a kid in a candy store the entire walk. I was still smiling when I sat down in the lunch room. I was smiling when I unhinged the chop sticks and continued smiling as I took the first bite. Hmmm, Maybe the heat is on the bottom. I mixed the dish with the chop sticks and took another bite.

I abruptly stopped smiling. The moral of this story is "never trust an old Dutch woman to know what spicy hot is"

Kiss, Kiss

2004-10-27T10:16:00.000-04:00

A really funny thing happened last Thursday. I was having a particularly good day, sitting in my office staring out the window, whistling away as I did. Of course there is nothing funny about that, but, as I was whistling I inadvertently made eye contact with a single mom walking her kids to school. Of course that's not all that funny either, but, I think she mistook my whistling for blowing her a kiss. She smiled, blushed and walked on by.

Today, something even funnier happened. As I looked up from my computer and glanced out the window I noticed the single mom looking right in at me. Of course it took me a while to figure out that she was the one who may have mistook my whistling for a kiss. She smiled, I smiled back. She blow me a kiss, I thought "oh shit".

After she walked by I thought I should keep the blinds closed for a few weeks. You know, to nip our little romance in the bud.

Na, besides, I think the horrified look on my face when she blew the kiss was probably enough.

Blog comments and personality test

2004-10-13T16:13:00.000-04:00

I realized after lamenting for an hour on a comment that I eventually didn't post, that I care more about what I say and how I say it while commenting on other blogs than I do in writing my own. What does that say about me?

Does it mean that I am worried about what other people think of me? THE HORROR! I have built my life around a complex superiority complex and the thought that I may actually have an insecurity, that my mantra could be bullshit. AHHHHH - Wait no, that can't be it or I wouldn't have wrote a long post about using the office shiter and then not update it for over two weeks. Hmmm, what then?

Perhaps a personality test could cast some light on my crisis. Did you know that the internet has hundreds of test you can do for free. Here are my results:

Openness to Experience/Intellect - I am open to new experiences, original, curious and complex, yet conventional and uncreative. I scored in the 65th percentile in this category which means in the absolute sense, DICK.

Conscientiousness - I had to cut and paste the word cause I use it so infrequent I couldn't spell it. Anyway, I scored in the 13th percentile here. Apparently I tend to be disorganized, undependable, negligent. The disorganized bit sure. You should see my desk, but negligent? And I am much more absent minded than undependable.

Extraversion - I am neither particularly social or reserved according to the test. Scored in the 53rd. What a revolation.

Agreeableness - Like I need a personality test to tell me I am, or tend to be critical, rude, harsh, callous, but only towards stupid people. 27th percentile.

Neuroticism- 2nd percentile "You probably remain calm, even in tense situations" Calm in tense situations?. Damn man, I'm like Zen! So not only do I look like the Budda....

So what does this tell me about myself and why I have trouble writing comments (except on extreme right wing sites. I love making them crazy). I guess it comes down to that I am either ignorant or apathetic, but I really don't know and I really don't care!

2004-10-01T13:46:00.000-04:00

I rarely use the washroom at the office. Mostly it's because I have no idea whose pimply-ass has been on the seat before me, and the cleaners do a terrible job of cleaning everything else in the building I can only imagine what they do to the toilet.

I know if I wash and sanitize my hands the chance of picking up a germ is remote. But there is no way I can wash my ass in the washroom sink, and I'll be damned if I am dropping my pants to sanitize my ass in my office. It may give the wrong impression.

But today! Today I took my little girl to McDonald's for lunch after her doctors appointment. McDonald's makes her very happy. She gets a cheap little toy with her nuggets and fries. As for me, I get heartburn. Luckily it doesn't last long because McDonald's goes through me like a Japanese high-speed bullet train. Which brings me painfully back to my original rant. The office toilet and my imminent.....

If there were any other solution to my dilemma, I couldn't think of it. No Choice. The office toilet. Hmmm, looks clean. No little hairs, or dried piss. Honestly, who leaves a seat like that? I wipe the seat, just in case.

Leap forward.

That wasn't that bad. No one else entered the washroom while I was in there. That was good. I really hate trying to carry-on a conversation while in the middle of that.

FLUSH. Oh no. This is not good! Was there a sign on the stall that I missed. Did it read "DO NOT USE THIS SHITTER. IT DOESN"T WORK!". Of course there wasn't. As the bowl filled and filled I wondered. Did anyone see me come in here? Would they know it was me if I just walked out and say, went home? I decided that this wasn't the time to ponder, but a time for action so I, well, fixed the situation. The tools to do so were handy. Obviously, it wasn't the first time today this happened.

I was anxious to get out of there. To wash my hands and get the hell out of there. I walked to the sink pushed the soap thingy. Good, that was working. I washed all the way up to my elbow. Grabbed for a paper towel. Hmmm. I grabbed for a towel again. Hmmm. I looked over to the dispenser. EMPTY. Drying your hands with TP is a little like eating rice with one chopstick. It can be done to be sure, but its frustrating and a little bit time consuming.

The moral of this story is "Don't eat at McDonald's. This could happen to you!"

I got nothin'

2004-09-28T14:55:00.000-04:00

It's been tough this past week or so. I am almost at my wits end. What is a guy to do when he almost nothing to complain about.

Anyway, I got nothin' so I'll just leave you with this little time waster.

click here

Mr. and Mrs. Logan: Part 2.

2004-09-20T13:53:00.000-04:00

Wifey sometimes calls me a Vulcan because of the way I can separate my emotions from what is going on around me. Today however, I couldn't hid what I was feeling. DREAD!. Absolute Dread of having to make a follow-up call to Mr. and Mrs. Logan.

I was actually suppose to call them last week, but I chickened out. I knew they would have Mrs. Logan's results back from the cancer specialist and I didn't know how I would react. It took an hour to work up the courage to make the call. Sad commentary on me I'm afraid. They're dealing with cancer and I can't make a simple call.

"Ted, it's Arthur. I am following-up on our appointment last week". Normally I would have asked "how are you?", or "how was your weekend?". I didn't of course because that would mean knowing the answer to a question I dreaded knowing the answer to.

"Oh hello Arthur, how are you today?" I respond, but quickly move the conversation back to business. The words "COWARD" racing through my mind. I was really starting to hate myself, but I continued to stay on track.

Mr. Logan and I had a very professional, very generic conversation about his financial well being. In the end he decided not to make any changes. In the end I asked him how his wife was and what were the results of her biopsy.

You see Mrs. Logan is very fond of berries. Blueberries, strawberries, raspberries it really doesn't matter to her, she loves them all. She likely thought that eating fresh berries instead of junk-food for snacks was a good thing. It actually is a good thing, except when a tiny berry seed lodges itself in a tiny polyp in her digestive track and causes a simple little infection that eats a tiny little hole somewhere in her colon which ultimately manifests symptoms very much, and almost identical to cancer. Unlike cancer though, this little infection that was caused by a little berry seed can be cured by a very little pill taken twice a day for about seven days which she finished taking this past weekend.

Mr. Logan is still quitting his job to spend more time with the woman he loves. He's just a lot happier that time seems to back on their side.

2004-09-17T10:02:00.000-04:00

Hardly anything that happens surprises me anymore. It's not that I have lost all faith in humans ability to survive, I've never had any!

I'll illustrate why. This past week I read a story about a group of people in New Orleans that made the decision not to seek shelter from hurricane Ivan, but instead put their faith in the all mighty to protect them. Hmmm, Cat 5 hurricane, two story storm swells, living below sea level. Me, I'm thinking the all mighty might be trying to tell these people something. Besides, what kind of supreme being would allow this kind of stupidity to live and breed?

Here's the kicker, New Orleans was spared the brunt of Ivan. It just sort of veered off and nailed Florida, again. So I have to ask myself, was this because a bunch of nut-jobs on Bourbon Street had more faith then the bunch of nut-jobs on the Pan-handle, or just dumb luck? Doesn't this sort of thing fly in the face of natural selection? Could Darwin be wrong? Perhaps Einstein was right! Maybe there is a God and he does play dice. If so the almighty needs a new game plan because he's on a losing streak.

I'm so confused.

Mr. and Mrs. Logan

2004-09-10T09:36:00.000-04:00

Yesterday afternoon I had an appointment with Mr. and Mrs. Logan. They have been my clients for just over four years. I first meet them a month before Mr. Logan, Ted, was to retire. Ted took mandatory retirement from his city job at 65, but after a year he couldn't stand it and found a part-time job. He told me a while ago that he took the job because it made him feel worthwhile again after leaving a job he had for 35 years.

I really like the time I spend with clients like the Logan's. They have been together a very long time and are still very much in love. There is a respect for each other that is unfortunately not present in most couples I talk to. I like the Logan's.

Our appointment was going well. Ted mentioned he is leaving his part-time job because the extra income from his pensions and job, combined with the retirement savings he would forced to start to withdraw would place him in a higher tax bracket. He didn't want that. The tax problem isn't as bad as he thought and I quickly worked out that it would only be an extra $800 a year. Within in two minutes I had worked out a plan so they didn't get hit with a big tax bill at the end of the year. Ted could keep his job.

Then I noticed the tears in Mrs. Logan's eyes. Leaving the job that made Ted feel worthwhile had nothing to do with his tax bracket. It seems Mr. Logan now has something else to make him feel worthwhile. Spending as much time with the woman he loves before she is taken from him. It was heart-wrenching looking into his eyes as he re-assured her that he was not going to continue working, that he was going to be there for her. He looked into her eyes and told her it would be okay. Except both of them knew it wouldn't be. Ted's eyes welled-up as he turned to look back at me. He explained that Mrs. Logan had not been well, but it was much more serious than that. Mrs. Logan tried to lighten the mood by exclaiming "yes, didn't you notice I lost 40 lbs". I hadn't.

After the appointment I went home for lunch. Wifey was there. She had decided to work from home yesterday. With the image of Mr. and Mrs. Logan's tear-filled eyes fresh in my mind I went to wifey and kissed her softly on the neck as she typed away on the computer. I gave her a hug. I wanted to tell her that I hoped to live long enough to love her as much as Mr. Logan loved Mrs. Logan. But I just smiled and gave her another kiss.

Daddy's little girl

2004-09-08T13:30:00.000-04:00

Wifey and I have two children. The boy is nine and is in the 4th grade. I don't worry too much about him cause he is more like me than most people see. Weird and original, brilliant and foolish, creative. He already likes girls...A lot. He has grand ideas of life and his role in it. I did too, still do!. That's why I don't worry about him. Most adults, after being caught in conversation with him all seem to come to the same conclusion: He's different from most kids, sort of like what a young Quentin Tarantino must have been like.

The girl is four. She starts school tomorrow and I worry about her. Not because I think she's not going to do well in her studies, or because I think she will be unable to make friends or cope. In fact, she's fiercely independent and extremely bright, I don't worry about those things. I worry because she looks like an angle. Big blue eyes and a devilish smile. It's what is behind that smile I am worried about. I've seen it before.

A colleague of mine has a daughter. When she was 13 we had her babysit the boy and the girl for us. (The boy had convinced her that it was okay to eat cereal for dinner which is funny, but irrelevant to the story) She always wore pink. She went to art camp in the summer. She didn't date. NOW! At 18, she dresses like a tramp, drinks like a fish and curses like a sailor. I am pretty sure it's what is causing the unexplained pain in my college's chest.

AHHH...Damn chromosomes. The human haploid genome (my half) contains 3,000,000,000 DNA nucleotide pairs, divided among twenty two (22) pairs of autosomes and one pair of sex chromosomes. ONE PAIR! My future chest pains came down to one pair of chromosomes.

Hey, that guy just backed into my mini-van

2004-09-07T14:23:00.000-04:00

It was raining this morning when I got to work so I parked right in front of the office so not to get my laptop too wet. It's not the best spot as drivers often back up without really looking. I really should have moved it hours ago when it stopped raining.

So I'm sitting here at my desk catching up on a weeks worth of email, mail and all sorts of other crap that tends to build up when there is nobody here to throw it out. Out of the corner of my eye I notice a blue-hair getting into her Crown Victoria. Boy that's a big care for a woman that can't be more that 5 foot. I'll skip most of this little story and jet to the mastercard commercial. It would end like this:

Blue-haired woman backing up without looking, stopping, or even wondering why her car abruptly stopped when it hit my mini-van:

Priceless!

I wonder if she even noticed she hit my mini-van. I'm sure the earth hasn't moved like that for her in a really long time, if ever, so I'm sure she most have known.

Well at least there is no damage and I got to laugh for a while.

Next Blog>>

2004-08-27T10:49:00.000-04:00

There is an incredible feeling you get when you have finished all the items on your to-do list and it's only 10:00AM. The emotion is rarely felt by humans anymore,which is truly unfortunate, sad really.

As I was saying, I was done all I wanted and needed to do today by 10:00AM. I've got a few appointments later this afternoon, but for the next few hours - FREE -

I decided to check out this next blog thing. More to the point, I wanted to know how long it would take to get to my blog. 10 minutes? - NO; 20 minutes? - NO; 50 minutes? - NO.;1 hour? - Nope; Never? - BINGO.

At first, not finding my blog pissed me off. But then I started to actually read some of the more interesting stuff. Like the graphic designer working out of her home who masturbates while she talks to clients. The dominatrix from Seattle who spoke so sweetly about the guy she was beating on with her favourite riding-crop. There were tons of teenage musings about how hard life is having to go to school five days a week, and how unfair their parents are for making them get a job in the summer. Blogs of love, and blogs of hate. Some people looking for answers and others think they know all of them. I read a excellent blog on faith by a Catholic Priest in Boston.

It all started to remind me of one of my favourite Hunter S. Thompson quotes:

"When the going gets weird, the weird go pro"

2004-08-26T13:12:00.000-04:00

hot home-style soup

feed my body and soul

the unfortunate chicken

A lunchtime Haiku by Arthur

Waking up in another dimension

2004-08-24T10:29:00.000-04:00

I got up late today. Even more so than usual. The kids were cooperative though, so I was able to get back on schedule. Showered, got dressed and made my way down stairs. Had a little breakfast while the kids were putting on their shoes. Poured about 6 cups of coffee into my thermos and headed off to work. Dropped the kids off. I made it to my office by 9:00

WOW! Considering how late I woke up I should have been a hour late. So I settle into my routine (see earlier post), pour a big cup of coffee. Email received....15 new messages. Hmmm, nothing marked urgent. Delete.Delete.Delete. Raise the coffee to my lips, take a big drink and spit it right back into the cup.

I must have woke up in another dimension. I should have recognized the signs. The kids are never that cooperative and well, nice to each other. I could never have made it to work by 9:00 having got out of bed at 8:30. And the temperature of my coffee could not have dropped from steaming hot to ice cold in 30 minutes. So I must be in another dimension.

Either that or I filled my thermos with 12 hour old coffee from yesterday.

If I had five million dollars

2004-08-23T13:27:00.000-04:00

What would I do. First of all I don't think I would buy anything, not for a while anyway, well maybe some more flowers for my garden, but no stuff. I would like to travel. Here is my travel top ten, in no order.

1. I would take my daughter to the Bolshoi Ballet Company in Moscow. She is only four and of course wants to be a dancer.

2. I would climb Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, with my son. I would have to wait a few years for this one. I figure by the time he's fifteen, he should be able to carry my ass up the mountain.

3. I would visit Cape Comorin in southern India. At Cape Comorin, three oceans, the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea meet at the Southern most tip of the Indian sub-continent. I would want to see Cape Comorin during Chitra Pournami(full moon day in April) when the sun and moon are face to face at the same horizon.

4. A tour of Italy starting with the Grand Canal in Venice. (Atkins can kiss my ass. I love Italian food) Wifey studied a bit of renaissance history, so we would have to see Florence. In the foothills outside of Milan and Rome there are 13 century monasteries that have opened their doors to tourists. You can spend the night in rooms that are 5 centuries older than the first European settlements in North America.

5. Fish for Blue-fin off the coast of Nova Scotia and Marlin in the Caribbean. I would have to do it "old school" like Hemingway, no machines. What a rush, when the fish actually stands a chance.
6. Dig for dinosaur bones with my son and daughter in Drumheller Alberta, the so called Badlands.

7. Tour the culinary mine-field of Southeast Asia. Vietnam. Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Southern China.

8. Oktoberfest in Munich Germany. "Ich Bien bierdimpfe". While we are in Europe I'd likely take in a Pub tour of Great Britain, or even better a Whiskey tour of Scotland.

9. La Fiesta De San Fermin in Pamplona, Spain. The festival is more commonly known as the Running of the Bulls.

10. This last one is sort of a compilation of things I'd like to see and do: Walk the Great Wall. See the ancient ruins in Central and South America. Have a coffee in a bistro on the Champs-Elysees in Paris with Wifey. You really could go on and on once you start thinking about it.

brother can you spare 5 million

2004-08-20T09:43:00.000-04:00

Just a question today. What would you do if you won the lottery? It's a simple question really, but it tells so much about person who answers it. To make it easier, lets say you won 5 million.

Why I don't wear a watch.

2004-08-19T11:29:00.000-04:00

Two years ago while golfing at a local rock garden amusingly called a golf course, I lost my watch. Not a big surprise, I was losing the watch about once a week, but it always seemed to find me. I had purchased the crappy Swiss made time piece several years earlier and it showed its years, especially the band. The band was in a permanent state of almost, but not completely broken. I would fix it, it would break again, I would fix it, it would break. Replacing the damn band was out of the question as the replacement cost of the band was twice the replacement cost of the watch. Besides, the watch still worked. The round ended, but the watch didn't turn up.

For me it is custom to drink as many beer as balls I lost during the round, one more for the watch. On this day it was a good thing I didn't drive. I was well into my forth Stella, lamenting the half dozen balls I lost, when in walks the beer-cart chic...With my damn watch. I wasn't able to fix the damage this time. Too bad, or so I thought.

A week passed without knowing what time it was. Then two. Then a month. Soon I started to realize that I really had no use for knowing what time it was. I still don't. I actually found that I late for appointments less often.

Try it. You might like it

Democracy

2004-08-18T14:22:00.000-04:00

Wifey thought I should start using my Blog as a soap-box for my new political party. Yes, I have my own political party. It's called The New Progressive Party of Canada, unless of course Elections Canada has a problem with the name.

I think I'll start by sharing my favourite cynical quotes about government.

"Democracy is the art and science of running the circus from the monkey cage."

H. L. Mencken...

My donut jones

2004-08-16T13:56:00.000-04:00

I have been trying to eat a little better lately, especially avoiding donuts. But, today, no luck. I started the day jones'in for a old fashion sugar, and the jones continued to grow. I went home at lunch, partly because I miscalculated cash-flow for the week and want to be a good boy til payday, but mostly because my office is across the street from Tim Horton's.

After lunch and back at the office I'm starting to feel a little dizzy. I really need a fix man. Put the only cash I have on me is a twenty. Everyone knows what happens when you break a twenty. Right, it disappears. No Choice, I need it too bad. BUT WAIT. I have a $4 winning ticket from Cash for Life. Sweet, I don't have to break the twenty. So I walk across the street to the corner store, hand the clerk the ticket. She casually takes it from me and politely asks if I would like the cash or another ticket, to which I naturally respond: "THE TICKET"

Anyway, I'm in line at Tim's, patiently waiting behind an old couple that can't make up their mind what sandwich to get and an old guy from Michigan who has to ask what everything cost in American. What the hell, may as well scratch. Nothing better to do. Besides if I had won another 4 dollars, I could walk back over to the corner store, exchange the winning ticket for the cash and be back here before any decisions were made.

First box: $500.00

Second box: $6.00

Third box: $500.00

Forth box: Oh my Gawd!! $500.00

I just won $500.00. SWEET!. So there I was in line, feeling pretty good about the day and what to I see just at my feet. A dollar. I pick it up, politely ask if it belongs to anyone, no. SWEET! I don't have to break the twenty.

If there could be a moral to this story it's this: If you're jones'in for a donut and you don't want to break a twenty and a pretty corner store clerk asks if you want cash or a ticket, take the ticket, because you're going to get the donut anyway.

Theme Park Fun!

2004-08-16T12:34:00.000-04:00

Well, wifey and me took the kids to MarineLand this past weekend. All I need to say is that for the most part the kids had a great time, which is to say I didn't. Although I must admit the *girl had a few moments that really cracked me up. After waiting in line for about 30 minutes to enjoy a 37 second ride, the girl exclaimed: "WHAT, THAT'S IT. THAT WAS LAME!" I laughed my ass off.

* For those of you that haven't linked from wifey's blog, (which is likely nobody) the girl is our 4 year old daughter.

The boy had a friend along so he had a good time, except once, when he and his friend waited in line for a roller-coaster ride only to be pushed out of line by two teenage girls. I wanted to wait for the girls and "accidentally" spill a large paper cut of syrupy sugar water all over their but the boy couldn't point them out. It would have been a ridiculous listen to teach the kids, but sometimes justice comes at a price....

Gas to get to the park: $40

Admission: $137

Three cups of syrupy sugar water: $7.76

Spilling one of those cups all over the nasty little bitch that decided to pick on two little kids:

JUSTICE!

Email Signature Lines

2004-08-13T09:27:00.000-04:00

Several months ago I took in a marketing seminar in the big city. One of the seemingly more knowledgeable speakers talked about marketing by email. Not the direct SPAM email, but by using well crafted, timely and personal email with particular emphasis on the signature line. Because, "the signature line tells the reader who you are and what you do, and its the part of the email research shows generates the most trust!"

I decided to give it a try. I send out a letter to my entire client base asking for their email. To my surprise the request worked and I began sending out timely newsletters about investment markets, oil prices, general economic info, and the odd recipe, paying particular attention to the signature line. Depending on the receiver I am either President or Financial Representative.

Things were going well. I was getting great feedback and feeling good. Mind you the only feedback was on the recipes I included, but nevertheless. About a month ago however, I started wondering if people really did care if I was president or say....GRAND POO-BA. I started using this as my title on selected emails. Then all of them. NOTHING! Not one response. Nobody noticed, not even my Mutual Fund Dealer compliance officer who is suppose to notice such things.

So, for the foreseeable future, or until anybody notices, I am Arthur, Grand Boo-Ba!

Hmm, I suddenly feel like bowling.

Pad Kee Mao

2004-08-12T09:08:00.000-04:00

So yesterday evening wifey gives me hell for not posting anything. I explained that I had a very busy day and really nothing to say. She told me I didn't get the "essence" of Blogging. As she was re-explaining the concept to me one word stuck in my mind and I slowly drifted into thought all the while trying to appear that I was listening. "Essence"! I began to remember a FoodTV show I watched back before I turned the satellite off because there was nothing worth watching except cooking shows. "Essence"!.

Hmmm. I continued to not listen to wifey talk about blogging. Actually she had moved on by this time, but this is about me. "Essence"! Then it struck me like a ton of hummus. I'll post the recipe for her favourite dish. Here it is:

Pad Kee Mao

Its best to have everything prepared before you begin. Otherwise its going to suck!

1. Combine 3tbsps of fish sauce(I use Cock brand sauce and no I'm am not kidding it's really called Cock), 2tbsp of seasoned rice wine vinegar and 2tbsp of Black bean sauce together. Add one clove of garlic (finely chopped) and a finely chopped hot pepper (Thai is the best). I sometimes add 2tbsp of soy sauce. No reason why, I just do. You can also add more black bean sauce if you like.

2. Chop one med onion, a red pepper and three cloves of garlic. You will also need to seed and chop one small tomato. A bunch of Thai basil chopped. (If you can't find Thai basil, the regular kind will do. And no you cannot use dried!) A hand full of bean sprouts.

3. 1/2 pound od ground pork. For those of you who don't dig on swine, firm bean curd is a good substitute. The meat of one chicken breast sliced/chopped.

4. 2tbsp sugar and as many hot peppers as you can take. Thai are the best!

5. Large/wide rice noodles. Break into small pieces and soak in hot water for as long as the directions on the package say.

COOKING TIME

If you have a wok, fantastic. If you don't, well your a loser who is going to screw this recipe up anyway. Heat wok to about medium. Add 1tbsp of veg oil (canola or grape seed are best). Add three cloves of chopped garlic and cook till brown, but not burnt. Then, add 1tbsp oil, turn heat to high/highish and add onion and red pepper. You will need to stir continuously until onions are carmelized and the peppers are soft. Sometimes I add some of the Thai peppers here.

Add the ground pork/tofu and stir till cooked through (and the pork is separated into small pieces). Add the chicken. Once the chicken is cooked, add the sugar and stir. The sugar can burn quickly if unattended, so stir. Once it starts to turn the mixture brown add the noodles, strained very well of course. Add sauce and stir mixture together. Add the rest of the hot peppers and stir. Add the basil and bean spouts to the mixture. It should be looking like a Thai dish by now.

To finish, add the tomato and stir till all the sauce, water and tomato juices are absorbed by the noodles.

Serve in a large serving bowl. Enjoy.

An interesting day.

2004-08-10T09:45:00.000-04:00

I think today is going to be an interesting day.

Recently I was discussing with my assistant/coordinator...far too much of a bother to continue with. Lets call her Aglaia from now on! Recently, we were discussing passages from books that had made an impact. Written words that made you think and feel. It was very easy for her due to the fact she is the wife of a clergyman, and apparently he regularly uses inspirational passages, songs and poems to write is sermons. In fact, he once used a Beatles song. Anyway, to her astonishment I mentioned a paragraph from Victor Hugo's Les Miserables, which describes the elderly bishop Bienvolent walking in his garden:

"He was there alone with himself, collected, tranquil, adoring, comparing the
serenity of his heart with the serenity of the skies, moved in the darkness
by the visible splendors of the constellations, and the invisible
splendors of god, opening his soul to the thoughts which fall from
the Unknown. In such moments, offering up his heart at the
hour when the flowers of the night inhale their perfume..."

Aglaia, told me her husband will most likely use the passage to inspire his flock, notably due to the "god" references. It's an interesting day when an atheist gives sermon material to a clergyman. More interesting to me is why she was so astonished I read Les Miserables. She never did say. Hmmm

Yet, another witty title!

2004-08-09T12:17:00.000-04:00

Really, I mean what more can be expected of a suburban king on a Monday morning?

Drank 6 cups of coffee by 11:30AM, eat two pieces of fruit bread for breakfast, okay, it was at 10:00 but at least it wasn't buttered! I think I am going to have a scoop of ice cream (moose tracks) on a sugar cone for lunch. I'll likely drive into the big city this afternoon to grab a Grande Capi' at Starbucks. I really prefer Second Cup, but the store is in the middle of a mall, and with summer vacation it will be filled with unemployed teens in cloths that are either too small or too big, depending on gender of course.

I don't think I can take the site of fleshy teenage girls or 100lb losers wearing their dads "fat pants" today sooo...Starbucks it is!

I wonder if that will be too much coffee? Better have a biscotti as well.

Arthur in 30 Seconds

2004-08-06T09:35:00.000-04:00

In my last post I mentioned that my significant other, Trillian, is a blogger. She loves blogging, reading other bloggs, having others read hers. I finally gave in to her near daily suggestions "you should start a blog, I can help" and well, here it is.

In the back of my mind I was thinking I would never have time to sit and write interesting musings about my day. Afterall, I am a very busy man. I own a small financial planning centre with offices in five small towns. Where would I get the time?

Turns out my assistant/coordinator does most of the work. In fact, if I were a my boss, I would likely fire me. Let me illustrate. Here is how I started my day, which is a very typical day.

I woke up at the crack of 8:00. Well 8:10 by the time I got out of bed.
I showered, shaved and ironed my cloths, got dressed all by 8:30.
8:30 to 8:40: made sure the kids were dressed and ready, poured my coffee and waited for my ride. Normally I would not have to wait, but my mini-van is in the shop.
8:55 The kids were dropped off at the sitter
9:07: Login to my computer.
9:10: receive email - 9:15 delete most email without reading
9:20: read newspaper headlines. Only story worth reading was about UFO's.
9:35: Read wifey's blogg.
9:37: Wonder what the hell I am going to do the rest of the day.
9:39: Start writing this post. It should be about noon by the time I finish. Constant interruptions from my assistant. Again, it's great someone in this office actually works. She gives me a list of things to do. I really think that should be the other-way-round. I wonder if she's catching on? Maybe she is starting to realize she runs the place. Oh well, she's been doing a great job so far.
9:54: Run spell check. WOW, I really can't spell! My grammar is a dogs breakfast as well. Funny sideline actually. I use words like, nevertheless, although, and as well as to try to cover-up the fact that I know very little about stringing sentences together properly.
9:58: Phone call from client. He's not having a good year. Wife left him and he lost his job. Well, losing the job was inevitable cause that's what happens when you work for your father-in-law and daddy's little girl leaves you. Man that would suck!
10:12: Called meeting with staff. That should bring me into lunch, which in the financial services industry is at least an hour and a half. Ahh it's good to be the king!

Oh good,

2004-08-05T23:28:00.000-04:00

Looks like I got it all figured out. I just wish I had something good to say. I have a feeling this is very much the way a child feels when a parent tries to get them to do something cute in front of complete strangers. Nevertheless, I feel obligated to write something. My significant other has been delighting me with her musings for a while. She feels that since she loves blogging, and that she is the target market for everything, that everyone must therefore love blogging!

Well, I quess its worth a shot.

First Post

2004-08-05T23:14:00.000-04:00

Well this is interesting. I am not sure I should be surprised that this would hapen to me but.....

my damn blog name is already in use and blogger didn't seem to mind.