Two men are facing charges after a stolen vehicle entered a RIDE program in Kitchener.
That happened Sunday around 11 p.m. at Homer Watson Boulevard and Doon South Drive.
Waterloo Regional Police say all occupants were arrested.
Officers also seized a large quantity of suspected drugs and Canadian currency.
As well, the young driver was issued a suspension after testing positive for cannabis in their oral fluid.
I’ve never understood why sometimes in a news story it will say that someone was charged with fraud, for example, and then add “contrary to the criminal code.” What is the point of those words? It’s fraud. It’s not legal. Of course it’s contrary to the criminal code. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be in there, would it? Saying contrary to the criminal code implies that there exists some sort of fraud which is totally cool according to the criminal code, doesn’t it? And aside from some of the stuff politicians, corporations and rich people get away with, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of that variety of fraud. So why do we say it, and why don’t we say it all the time if it’s important and not just wordiness for the sake of wordiness?
You know your lack of sleep is getting to your brain when you’re about to get out of the shower, suddenly can’t remember if you’ve washed your hair and then do it again because you don’t think you can trust yourself to have done it. It’s only like the main thing you went in there for, dude. Take a nap.
And speaking of sleep or the lack thereof, am I the only one who, completely at random, will have a hell of a time settling down for the night until I’ve gotten up at least a couple of times to go check on things? Not just normal stuff like whether the doors are locked, either. I’m talking weird stuff like did we shut off the TV? Is the fridge door closed? Nobody left any taps running, did they?
I have no firm idea why this happens, it just does and has for years. But if I had to guess, I think it might go back to my days of having to watch my younger siblings a lot growing up. I was often carrying them to bed, telling them stories, making sure they settled and stayed where I put them…all the stuff that parents usually do. I don’t have them to take care of anymore and I don’t have kids of my own, so perhaps my brain, having been taught for so long that I needed to keep an eye on things, has transferred that drive to things like appliances. It seems like a good bet, since I’ll also find myself getting up to check on the dog while she sleeps in the other room or even on Carin if she falls asleep before I do.
But I still have no idea why some nights are worse than others. I just know that I’d like some more consistent rest, thanks.
On Dec. 3, 2019 at 6:51 a.m., a member of the public observed an adult male and an adult female transporting a safe across the street near the intersection of Fife Road and Whitelaw Road in the City of Guelph with a children’s wagon. Police attended the scene and arrested them. Further investigation revealed that a break-in had just occurred at a residence in the area with multiple items taken including a motor vehicle, jewelry, a laptop, a pellet gun and a safe. All of the stolen property was recovered.
A 35-year-old Ariss male and a 26-year-old Guelph female have been charged with:
Possession of stolen property under $5,000
Break, enter and commit
They were held in custody for a bail hearing on Dec. 4, 2019.
“Motor vehicle” is hardly a sufficient description given what else we know.
What kind of motor vehicle was it? Was it one large enough to fit a safe into? That one piece of information tells us a lot about the caliber of super genius we may be dealing with in this case. It literally makes all the difference between resourcefulness and stupidity. Ok, most of it.
I also wouldn’t mind knowing if the wagon was stolen, but that’s just me being curious.
This motor vehicle thing, though. It really is important. Please try a little harder, police communications people of the world.
This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, but it’s been a while.
We don’t know exactly what brought Jamesley Jaques (pronounced Jacks even though it most likely isn’t but you’ll know why it is in a second) to the police station, but the reason he might be staying there a little longer than he may have intended is much more obvious.
According to the report, Jamesley Jaques, 22, was in the GPD lobby waiting to speak to the front desk when he began masturbating. This was seen by two front desk employees and a GPD officer.
When an officer approached Jaques, he told them he was not masturbating, but “praying” to his penis.
“Spare the rod…your staff comforts me…something something something…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamen!
Jaques was charged with disturbing the piece and locked up on $2,000 bond.
There are times when a thing happens, there is a backlash to that thing and I’m left struggling to figure out how and why anyone could possibly get so worked up about the thing. There are also times when no struggling is necessary. Times like when a security conference puts on a panel discussion about the contributions of women and the panel is made up entirely of dudes, for instance.
But on the agenda was an all-male panel discussion titled “Security solutions, Women’s contributions” which quickly raised eyebrows.
“They have to have a woman in the discussion,” said Bonnie Jenkins, executive director of the Women of Color Advancing Peace, Security and conflict Transformation (WCAPS). Jenkins has spoken as a panelist at the security forum in the past, and says organizers should take this as a “teachable moment.”
When asked how this happened, organizers said the panel was not an accident.
“We are hoping to have a meaningful conversation,” said Paz Magat, the director for Peace with Women in Fellowship with HISF.
“In order to really leverage the human capacity of all people involved, we still need the people in positions of power to be able to do that, and we’re hoping this panel will address some of the barriers and challenges that still impede women.”
Barriers like…completely random shot in the dark here…not including them in discussions about them?
I’m not saying no guys on the stage. I don’t think anyone sensible is. But come on.
I’m reminded again of the saying I hear in the disability community that goes “nothing about us without us.” This shouldn’t have to be a teachable moment, but since it apparently does, that’s really the only rule of thumb anyone should need.
For the record, the lineup was eventually changed and did include two women. But that they had to be added last minute is still beyond ridiculous.
David Antonison was recently found guilty of attempted murder and a few other charges for unloading some bullets from a .44 into the home of neighbours Bruce and Joyce Coghill during a dispute over the location of some dog crap. Why we needed a trial though I’m not really sure, because this, apparently, was the best defence that he and Lawyer Patrick Ducharme could come up with.
Antonison fired through the front door and through a window with a Colt Anaconda .44-calibre handgun.
Terrified, Bruce Coghill ran around inside as his house filled with bullets, glass, wood and shrapnel. Joyce, 69, was in a bedroom calling 911. They are both retired schoolteachers. Neither was injured.
Minutes earlier, after Coghill spoke to him about his dog, Antonison said three times that “I’m going to (expletive) kill you.” He walked away before returning with a gun.
After firing into the house, he peered through a window he had just shot through to make eye contact with Coghill, the jury heard.
Though neighbours for decades, living a few doors apart, this was just their second-ever conversation. The only other time they spoke, Coghill asked Antonison to clean up the feces left by his dog.
Antonison, who was licensed to own firearms, pleaded not guilty and did not testify. His lawyer told the jury he did not intend to kill or hurt anyone because he did not take aim at anyone.
Ok, so you’re saying that you shot up the man’s house, but that you did so indiscriminately rather than with deliberate, lethal intent? I think we’re done here. No one has ever gotten injured that way. Heck, your so-called victim is sitting right here in this courtroom today, not a mark on him. Sir, good day to you. You are free to go.
I have to explain the title. The Seppa-Tebby-Tebby nephew has this game that he likes to play where he gets into your chair and squishes himself really small at the back of the seat. Then you’re supposed to sit down on the chair, lean back and say “Why is this chair so lumpy?!” Then you reach back, find him, act surprised and maybe give him a few tickles, and he giggles his face off. Then he wants you to do it again, and again, and again!
But unfortunately this post isn’t about his silly games. It’s about how Tansy has mysteriously turned into a lump factory.
I’ve been accumulating some Tansy thoughts, and among them was the fact that she had acquired some more lumps. First, at the end of April, there were two more, and then a wee tiny one showed up in September. The two more were definitely lipomas, or fatty lumps. The wee tiny one is in the muscle and difficult to sample, but they’re pretty sure that one’s fine too. and then last week, I saw three more lumps. When I saw three more lumps show up super quick, it made me nervous. So I scheduled an appointment with the vet. Even though I was nervous, I was sure the techs would laugh at me and the lumps would all be benign. Oh if only.
I pointed out the three lumps I had noticed, and they pointed out one I had missed, a little wart-like thing on her leg. They took her away and did their needle biopsies and said they would look at the cells and be back in 10 or 15 minutes. Then more time went by and I started to wonder what was up.
When they finally came back, they told me that one lump was definitely a lipoma, and the other two that I pointed out were really hard to get at so they weren’t sure if they were getting the right cells, but the one on her leg was definitely a mast cell tumour and needed to be surgically removed.
I’m still confused about what mast cell tumour means, because I swore when Babs had her mast cell tumour, they called it a benign mast cell tumour. Maybe they called it a grade 1 mast cell tumour and I took that to mean benign? Somebody help this dumb human understand. Is it cancer, and if it’s cancer, does this mean who knows what? Or are mast cell tumours cancer in the most technical sense of the word, i.e. mast cells aren’t doing their mast cell job and have decided to form a colony, and once the colony has been evicted, we don’t have to worry? Or does it depend on the grade of the tumour?
Anyway, they said they could get her in on Friday to do the surgery, and they would check the difficult lumps when she was snoring and would be easy to fiddle around with. When they did, two of them made them not so comfortable, so they came off too.
Tansy looks a bit like a patchwork quilt, with three big shaved spots. One is on the inside of her left front leg, one is on her chest near what I call her front right armpit, and one is on her back on the right side. They sent the masses away for testing. I guess I’ll know more in a week or two.
Tansy does not appreciate her new accessory, the cone meant to keep her from licking and chewing on her incisions, although she has learned to live with it. When we came home Friday night, she was convinced she couldn’t fit in her bed while wearing her cone, so sat or stood there screaming blue murder. Part of it was she was begging us to take the cone off, but part of it was she legit wanted us to solve a problem. She was on sleepy night night drugs, and she wanted somewhere comfortable to lie down, and that bed is right there, but she was sure there was no way to get in…”Help help help, yeep yeep yeep!” I was relieved when I was able to show her that she fit in the bed, and the screaming stopped.
But lack of screaming was not a sign of contentment. The next morning when I was getting pictures of her incisions taken to show the vets to check on their healing progress, the Aira agent taking them said her face clearly expressed the sentiment of “It’s a good thing I love you…”
As the day went on, she learned to scoop up and pounce on a squeaky toy and we had to discourage her from rolling around on the floor. In this picture, she was more chill than what we saw in the morning, but she’s still not happy.
Let’s just back up a second. They took 3 masses off my dog. That’s a lot of masses to appear at once. I never noticed them before. Did they all just show up, or did I miss them somehow?
But what scares me the most is I thought I was getting pretty good at knowing what felt like a lipoma and what felt different, but boy was I wrong. Had I found the leg one, I probably wouldn’t have thought of it as a lipoma, but I would have thought of it as a harmless little bump on the skin. The one on her chest scared me because it felt hard, but they say it is a lipoma. I was sure the one in her armpit was fat, but difficult to pin down. The one on her back felt slightly weird but not horribly. So judging by feel isn’t something I can do. I’ll just have to continue being kinda jumpy about lumps.
I said that Tansy and Babs had a lot of similarities. Here’s another one. Babs had a mast cell tumour, and when it burst, it spelled the end of her career because the vet thought she would need lots of antihistamines to keep the condition under control.
For the last couple of months I have noticed a degradation in Tansy’s work and wondered if she was starting to edge towards the big r word, retirement. But I was too much of a goddamn baby to start the retrain application process. Could the development of these tumours be the reason for her weird troubles working? If so, Shmans is a real trooper, because when Babs had her mast cell tumours, she could not think about guiding to save her butt. Just ask my shins that met parking meters and my screaming self going down the middle of the road. Tansy never did anything that dangerous. She just walked slower, didn’t want to think to solve problems sometimes and was more distracted than her normal self. Or maybe I’m trying to explain away everything in one little bundle and the work problems have nothing to do with the tumours.
I know that right now, my focus is making sure Shmans recovers from her surgery. The vets seem to think she can work as of today, but I’m terrified I will take her on a city bus or a train and something will hit her stitches and break something or something will happen because of the ice and snow from this lovely new storm that came today. I want to talk to the school and get their thoughts, but until then, I think Shmans will be a very bored dog.
Then the next step is to wait for the results to come back from sending away the lumps. I know that until we get the results back, there’s no ability to plan, but my mind is busy imagining scenarios. Has she got some big bad form of cancer? What will we have to do to keep her well? Are there blood tests we can run to check for more tumours forming before I can feel them? Can we prevent them? How? I know, all of this is fruitless until we know what kinds they are, but my mind doesn’t listen very well to cries of “Shut up and wait!”
So yeah, that’s the latest and not so greatest in the land of Shmans. I imagine these next 8 to 12 days waiting for pathology results are going to be long.
I actually saw the whole Judge Judy yeet incident Steve referenced here. Steve was out in the kitchen and I started laughing like crazy. At the time, I thought this “yeet” thing was just something this dopey kid and her dopey friends said. I mean, said dopey kid just hucked somebody’s laptop because she heard a guy say “yeet!”
Then, on Facebook, this meme showed up.
And \I realized that this yeet thing was an actual thing! It was a word, a word with a definition! I know this because I asked our Google Home what it meant, and it told me! So maybe I’m still somewhat young…maybe?
For other people who are feeling old right now, here’s what yeet means.
Yeet is an exclamation of excitement, approval, surprise, or all-around energy, often as issued when doing a dance move or throwing something.
Something good happened at work and for a fleeting second I thought “Does this qualify as yeet?” immediately followed by “If I don’t know, probably not.” And now I’m back to feeling old again, precisely “Yeet?” years old.
Some days I’m pleasantly surprised by how well I can still relate to younger people.
Other days I am exactly “Yeet?” years old.
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