Wow! 2006 is over!

It’s weird to be writing a blog post today. Why? Because for the last five Newyear’s Eves, we’ve had a party going on, so writing a blog post, if the blog had existed that whole time, wouldn’t be happening. But this year we decided not to have a party, so here I am.

The holidays were a zoo. In a way, they were quieter because we didn’t end up taking the six-hour car trek to see Grandma for Christmas and just enjoyed a chilled out Christmas at home. But in a way, they were more of a zoo because people suddenly expected us to be more available because we weren’t taking that trek and thought we’d just be around whenever *they* had a free moment. Isn’t it always the way that the time someone decides to squeeze you in happens to fall right during that window of time when you’re actually busy doing something else? Is it a law of nature that you always disappoint someone at Christmas, no matter how you try and fit everyone in? We were trying to see my grandma on my dad’s side of the family, hopefully for a meal, my aunt, my cousin and her twins, then we thought we’d at least pop in to visit my other grandma, the one that usually has a big dinner, and maybe see some relatives from around there. Plus, I wanted to zoom over and be with some of Steve’s family and such.

Well, we saw my grandma on dad’s side, but not for a meal. We saw my aunt and my cousin with the twins, but only when she was getting ready to head away, and in a panic. And I didn’t get to see any relatives from mom’s side. Mom did, so I guess that’s the point. But I did get to see Steve’s crew, so that was cool. Ug holidays are great, it just sucks when your relatives are spread everywhere.

I learned something when I went over to Steve’s place. Brad got the coolest little tape/CD/record player thingy with a radio on it for Christmas, which made us dig out the 45’s and other old treasures and see if they still work. They seem to, with a few skips and such, but for the most part, they’re good. One of the records was an old Raffi album. It’s really neat to hear that stuff on a record again. Then you really feel like a kid again. We were laughing because one of the songs says “peanut butter sandwich, made with jam, One for me, and one for David Amram.” We wondered who in hell David Amram was, and kept joking about that song. When I came back here, because I’m a big geek, I googled him, and he’s a real person! I guess he’s been composing and conducting music since the 50’s, and he’s still alive. Shows what I know.

Christmas was good, I got some new clothes, which always rocks…except when they don’t fit, and you find out that there’s no way in hell you’re getting the cash back for them unless you’re holding the debit or visa card with which it was bought, which you won’t be since it was a, um, gift, , you must exchange them for something else, you have trouble finding something you like, and the store chain is only in Toronto and Montreal, which are certainly not easy to get to from Guelph if you don’t have a car! Then you want to scream!
At first, I was so mad at the store chains, making it impossible to return Christmas gifts, what a prickish thing to do? Then I realized it’s because of asshole scammers that they make it so hard. God I hate spammers and scammers. So here’s a tip for everyone. If you’re going to buy clothes for someone for Christmas, look at their iron-clad return policies. If it would make it easier for the person to return the stuff if they have to, buy the clothes with cash! Then at least they can squeeze the money out of the store and the store can’t pull that trick of saying “not unless you can show me the card with which it was bought.”

I swear, each year becomes more and more of a whirlwind as they go. I don’t know what monster ate 2006. It doesn’t seem that long ago that it was just starting, I was still living in that little apartment next to Stupidhead, we just started looking for the place we’re in now, my resume needed a serious style upgrade, and I had no earthly idea when I was getting another guide dog. I wonder what this year will hold. I guess only time will tell, har har. Happy Newyear everyone!

What? I Need an Escape Route?

Before I write a big post about the holidays, I just had to write this down because, well, it belongs here.

Attention all dumbasses! When you decide it’s time to carjack someone, you might want to know where you’re going if you manage to steal their car. Otherwise, you might end up having to admit defeat by calling 911 and telling them you’re lost. That’s exactly what Claude King of Boca Raton, Florida, did.

After smashing through the driver’s window of an SUV that I guess he just had to have, and forcing the driver and all four of her passengers out by punching them, he then realized he had no idea where he was going. He turned south on the highway, hit a car, then turned north and hit another car.

When he got to Palm Springs, I guess he decided he was hopelessly lost. So he drove to a payphone, called 911, and said he’d like to turn himself in, if he only knew where he was. So they came and got him.

Ok, this story is just weird in so many ways. First of all, why would this guy choose a car with five people in it? His chances of succeeding are pretty low, and they can likely all identify him.

Second, why didn’t he, um, know where he was going?

And how in hell did he manage to drive around for so long in a car with a smashed driver’s window in it? They said he drove around all bewildered for about an hour. What the hell?

What else can I say, except, wow that’s weird.

Culture Shock

I’m still laughing about this, so it had to go up. I just listened to Weird Al’s CD “Straight Outta Lynwood” the other day. There was a song called Weasel-Stomping Day on it. I think he was making fun of all the crazy holidays that are created, or maybe the way people forget what Christmas is for, I’m not sure. But the title cracked me up, so I decided to use it as an MSN name.

Today, I get an MSN message from that dude from Pakistan I was talking about. All it says is, “really?” He actually thought there was a Weasel-Stomping Day in Canada. After I stopped convulsing with laughter, I told him no, it’s a song lyric. If I’d been smart, and able to pull this off, I would have said yes. But then again, I would have scarred the poor man forever, and that wouldn’t have been good, even though it would have been hillarious!

Grief is Not a Joke!

Well it looks like I have a little more time than I thought. So here’s another post. Gotta get them written down before I go to the hell computer.

Somebody made me a wee bit upset yesterday, and it’s still bugging me today.

I ran into an old friend I haven’t seen in years, and his girlfriend. She was walking with me, and said, “Didn’t you used to have a dog?
I said yes, and went through the speal. Mid-speal, I told her how hard it was to lose Babs, and said that there was a fair bit of greif and heartbreak there. And she started laughing!

Um, when someone says they grieved the loss of something, that is not the time to assume they are a barrel of laughs. That hurt. I told her I was serious, and then I think she felt a little bad, but it never really seemed to sink in for her.

I just had to write that down because it mildly pissed me off.

Happy Holidays Everybody!

You know the drill. It’s that time of year again. I’m off to the primitive land of dialup and a computer that’s probably choking on spyware and who knows what else. So it’ll probably be a while before I can post again, which sucks, becauseI have lots of ideas. Maybe I’ll be able to slip one in. Who knows? It’s the magical mystery of Christmas chaos, and this one will be even weirder, since Grandma decided, “Screw it, I’m not having Christmas.” So we’re going to have to zoom around and catch up with everyone. So, until we meet again, have an awesome holiday, eat lots of turkey and dessert, have lots of fun, and be safe!

Tell me why?

Tell me the earthly reason why we must have stockings for pets. They’re not going to open them. Christmas doesn’t exist in arf arf world or meow meow land. So why pay extra for a bunch of little toys? Why not buy them a bone and some treats or a ball of string and be done with it?

It’s the same thought I had when I walked through a pet store, and something on the shelf beside me yelled, “Na na na na na, na!” I said, “What’s that?” and the clerk said, “Oh, a cat toy!” Cat toys are built with things to make them talk now? Why why why?! I love pets, but this is nuts. Maybe the guy who invented the pet-petter wasn’t so completely insane.

Why Do I Care About This?

So some Miss USA goes to New York and drinks some booze and snorts a little cocaine and gets caught. Woopdy frickin doo! Tell me why this is even on the news now.

But the part that pisses me off is what the snivelling model says in her speech when Donald Trump gives her a second chance by sending her to alcohol rehab. “Hey, I don’t need it, but it’s free rehab! Why not take it?”

Let that process for a while.

Done yet? If someone walked up to me and offered me free rehab, I’d say, “Thanks, but I don’t need it. Why would I take something I don’t need and prevent someone who does need it from getting it?” That’s completely and utterly ridiculous. I hope she’s stupid enough to say that to the rehab people so they kick her out. What an idiot. Arg. I don’t think I can say anymore, except, what a selfish idiot. And, Donald Trump sounds completely scummy.

I’m Still Scratching My Head!

And shaking it. Am I awake? I am.

I was watching the news, and the music start sup, and the lady comes on and says, “Tonight, we’ll tell you why scratch tickets aren’t the greatest stocking stuffer idea…” I’m like what the hell? What could possibly be wrong with a goddamn scratch ticket? Don’t take away another shred of harmless fun.

And the ridiculous story starts. “If you buy a child a scratch ticket, you could be gambling with their future.” Their demented stupid theory is that the kid will see a scratch ticket like some kind of paper slot machine, and want to buy more and more. Ok, first of all, if the kid is that easy to get hooked on something, s/he must be really young. If s/he is young, the kid isn’t buying the scratch tickets! You have to be 18 to play, and any store clerk with sense isn’t going to sell to 10-year-old little Jimmy.

Second, if the kid is young, s/he probably doesn’t have his/her own money. So mom and dad are buying the scratch tickets, and if the kid asks for too many, well guess who’s going into scratch ticket withdrawal? It’s as simple as that.

If the kid is old enough to pass for 18 and sees scratch tickets like slot machines, the kid probably has bigger issues, and scratch tickets won’t be starting him/her down the path to addictions. There are things like booze and drugs that’ll do that just fine.

Then they went on this bit about “it’s illegal for kids to claim their winnings.” Well duh, that’s why mom and dad will get the money and give it to the kid! My god! We are getting dumber by the minute. We’ll be zombies before my time’s up in this world!

The worst was the two news anchors actually took this story seriously and did a little sad banter back and forth about it! Come on! That’s one of those stories where you have to take the let’s move on approach, not actually stop and think about it.

Ug the news. It’s going to make me go mad. No, it’s this complete lack of common sense that’s going to make me go mad, but the fact that it’s made it to the news just shows how serious it is.

Badda, Ba, Ba, ba, I’m a Cheap Prick.

Oh boy. We now have the most corny and cheap gift possible. Mcdonalds gift cards! I saw an ad for them yesterday, and just about died. The chirpy chipper girl on the ad said, “Why not buy them something you know they already love?” Ok, I’m all about the gift cards. They make things easier for sure. But a gift card from Mcdonalds? I’m all about the thought being what counts, and Christmas not being about how much a gift is, but I think only kids under 12 should be allowed to buy those. If anyone older than that buys someone one of those, it just smacks of a line from the song “Didn’t I Get this Last Year?” from Bob Rivers where he says, “Surprise…surprise, a coupon for some fries, that was really very thoughtful you guys!” Like come on, I think I can come up with a better Christmas gift than, “Here, go buy a cheeseburger.”