Weird Stuff Stew

I’ve been thinking about some weird things people do or weird things I’ve seen that just make me go, why? I don’t know if they’re good enough to make separate posts, so…isn’t this predictable? I decided to throw them together. Mmm…who knows what soup!

I saw an annoying Canadian Tire commercial where the dog is sniffing out everyone’s Christmas presents and figuring out what they’ve gotten. Ok it’s not nearly as annoying as the fiow-plathe one, but it does know how to grab my attention and make me go huh? At first the dog is sniffing out barbies and drills and everything. And then it gets to a remote-controled car with an mp3 hookup on it. At this point, my head spins. I’m all for technology combining, but in what evil parallel universe does that make sense? You are controling the car *remotely*. That means you’re *away* from it. What possible legitimate reason would you have to play music on it that you won’t be able to hear because you’re away from the music-playing object, and will always be away from it because you’re controling it remotely? Is it specifically designed to be an irritation tool to be used on the lucky brat’s siblings and parents?

I got thinking about Sesame street, I think because I turned on CFRU and a kids’ show was on with a clip of Bert and Earny playing. It led me to thinking about something that crossed my mind as a kid. I guess I was a pretty unimaginative and square kid, because I remember thinking. “Hmm…these guys sound old. Why do they have toys and still share the same room?” But they had a whole place. Why did they share a room? And I’ve never seen grown-ups with places have toys unless they had little ones running around. I never thought they were gay, but I remember thinking that I wanted to be out of my house and not sharing a room with my sister by the time I had a grown-up voice. Maybe it was the fact that I couldn’t see the little puppet face. Maybe that was what made it odd. But it was odd for sure, and still I watched and went ha ha ha along with them. Ah the weird powers of Sesame street. Too bad it’s going to hell in a handbasket.

And speaking of kids, negligent parents, and other goodness related to kids, why in the good holy hell do some parents cart their sick children out to social events? I was at a potluck yesterday, and in walks this woman with her kid. Someone commented on how quiet her kid was. The mother responded, “Oh she’s not feeling the best, she’s been fighting this for a few weeks now.”

Ok, why in hell did you bring her? I see so many things wrong with this that…where should I begin? And, must I?

First off, she’s sick. Why isn’t she at home? If the mom can’t get a babysitter, then maybe she should do the mom thing and, um, stay home with her sick kid. And if the kids’ been fighting this for weeks, what in hell is the mom doing wasting time at a potluck? Shouldn’t they be somewhere else, like, oh, say, a doctor’s office?

Let’s take mommy and snotty-nosed child out of the mix. Why is mommy bringing snotty-nosed child into a bunch of people if she knows she’s got something she’s been dealing with for a while? Does she want to make us all sick? Do people consider others at all anymore?

Maybe I’m just noticing the selfishness of people because my neighbours are driving that point home daily. Ok, not my
cool neighbour, but the new assholes who took his place after his unfortunate death. They smash beer bottles and leave their trash on the apartment steps, they smoke inside their house even though all they’d have to do is walk out their door and out another door to smoke outside, they even smoke inside in the summer. But the thing that makes me stare in bewilderment is the noise at all hours of the day and night. It doesn’t matter if it’s noon, 4 in the afternoon, the evening or 4 o’clock in the fucking morning. Great masses of people seem to enter and exit their apartment daily, slamming, thumping and banging their way in and out the door as they make their way. First of all, what the fuck are they doing to make that much noise? I’ve tried to make noise by slamming the door, and I don’t even come close to making the racket they make on a regular basis. Second, can they learn to have some respect for their neighbours? Please? I’ve asked them to stop smoking in their house because it seaps into mine and this is not a smoking-permitted building, and they won’t stop. I’ve asked them to be more careful about the broken glass, and they don’t care. I really hope they get evicted soon, because frankly, the selfish pricks need to think of more people than no. 1 for a change. Woops, that was a little more fuming than I planned it to be. But hey I’m not taking it back.

And this latest thing that some of my friends like to do baffles me. They call me repeatedly when I’m out somewhere, saying how much they want to hear from me. Then when I call them back, expecting to hear earth-shattering news or some crazy new development in their lives, all I get is the mundane happenings of their day, and then they start watching the simpsons or playing with something nearby. Then I find out that they just called me so many times because they were bored.

Ok, I have no problem with hearing about how their day went. That’s cool, but don’t call me three times in a row, with specifications of times before which I should call, please please please, unless there’s something crazy going on. Call,, leave a message, I will call you back. And if you’re just calling me because you were bored, don’t fucking bother. I should rephrase that. Maybe it’s all in the delivery. If you call because you thought about me and felt like giving me a call, sweet. Someone’s thinking of me. That kinda brightens my day. But it really makes me feel meaningless when you say you called because there was nothing else to watch on the TV and you were bored, and then proceed to say nothing. Thanks for wasting my time as well as yours. Maybe my time couldn’t be wasted right now, but you made me feel as though I had to drop everything to call you. They do that, or they say something that could have taken five minutes and perhaps could have been left on a message if it was so important that it needed 3 attempts at catching me. But is being bored really a good enough excuse to phone/message bomb me? Am I that unreliable at returning phone calls that you feel the need to hound me for a call-back? I’m sure you can find another way to cure your boredom.

Well, wasn’t that great gobs of pleasantness? Hope you enjoyed my steam-blowing off session. I didn’t expect it to be that long.

Heavy Meditation

So I learned today that I suck at meditation. This guy was doing a thing on meditation, so since I’ve tried yoga, I figured hey why not give it a try? But I found out that it’s way harder than I thought.

First off, there are a million contradictions. They tell you to sit up straight so your feet are flat on the floor. Maybe this is relaxing for a daddy long-legs, but for this shrimp, it means sitting on the front edge of my chair and holding my back straight, not letting it rest on the back of the chair. But then they tell you to relax. I don’t know about you, but sitting bolt upright isn’t the most relaxing thing in the world. Then they tell you to clear your mind. I must be weird, because as soon as someone tells me to clear my mind, I start thinking so hard about how one clears one’s mind that it’s the furthest thing from clear. Then they tell you to let your mind wander, but then after a while, they want to have you focus it, and if it does wander, you’re to bring it back to this image of white light etc. Can they please make up their minds on what mine’s supposed to do?

And here’s the fun part. They tell you to exhale all your anger and inhale wisdom and compassion. Isn’t that the most patronizing thing you’ve ever heard? If you just push your anger out, isn’t it going to come back and bite you? And why is it going to go away just because someone tells you to send it away? If it’s that easy to get rid of, it can’t be that serious. And if one could inhale wisdom and compassion, would we need to meditate? We could all be gurus just by breathing. I know, I know, it’s a metaphor. But think about this. Our own mind is imagining breathing in wisdom, right? So our own mind is manufacturing this wisdom, right? Well then, how successful is this venture?

Maybe I’m just a closed-minded cynic, or maybe the way this guy taught meditation was weird. Either way, the whole concept is too complicated for my little brain. But maybe he’ll prove me wrong, I’ll inhale some wisdom and figure it out.

Guns For The Blind

James sent this story, which I’m sure has just about everybody in Minnesota scared shitless.

Guns for the Blind?

A Minneapolis gun shop owner thinks the blind should be able to carry guns.

So, starting in December, Koscielski’s Gun Shop will be offering a training course to the visually impaired or blind.

But is it safe?

Koscielski’s says the disabled should be allowed to protect themselves just like everyone else.

If approved, the course would help blind people qualify for a right to carry permit.

By the way, there is no Minnesota law prohibiting the blind from having a gun.

Big John

Brad sent this in, and it cracks me up.

One fine day, a bus driver went to the bus garage, started his bus, and drove off along the route. No problems for the first few stops. A few people got on, a few got off, and things went generally well. At the next stop, however, a big hulk of a guy got on. Six feet eight, built like a wrestler, arms hanging down to the ground.

He glared at the driver and said, “Big John doesn’t pay!” and sat down at the back.

Did I mention that the driver was five three, thin, and basically meek? Naturally, he didn’t argue with Big John, but he wasn’t happy about it.

The next day the same thing happened. Big John got on again, made a big show of refusing to pay, and sat down. The same thing happened the next day, and the one after that, and so forth.

This grated on the bus driver, who started losing sleep over the way Big John was taking advantage of him.
Finally, he could stand it no longer. He signed up for body-building courses, karate, judo, and all that good stuff. By the end of the summer, he had become quite strong; and what’s more, he felt really good about himself.

So on the next Monday, when Big John once again got on the bus and said, “Big John doesn’t pay!” the driver stood up, glared back at the passenger, and screamed “AND WHY NOT?!?!”

With a surprised look on his face, Big John replied, “Big John has a bus pass.”

No Thanks

Serbs line up for testicle shocks Are condoms really that much of a pain?

Men in Serbia are lining up to have electric shocks delivered to their testicles as part of a new contraceptive treatment.
Serbian fertility expert Dr Sava Bojovic, who runs one of the clinics offering the service, said the small electric shock makes men temporarily infertile by stunning their sperm into a state of immobility.
He said: “We attach electrodes to either side of the testicles and send low electricity currents flowing through them.

Destination Frustration

God damn! I didn’t know a day could be ruined by a 95-k dos, yes, you heard me right, dos game. And to think it all started with a stroll down memory lane. Then I decided, oo I think I’ll idly play this old game I used to play when I had a really slow computer that was lucky if it could handle wordperfect 5.1, just as a bit of amusement. Just imagine the game. It was designed for really slow processors, so the sound effects, which come through the PC speaker I might add, practically don’t even exist when they’re played on today’s computers. But I thought, aa yes, the simple simple games from days of yore. Simple? I challenged the wrong demons of fate.

I started out playing a game called Run for President. It’s kind of like a political monopoly game, only you buy states instead of streets and then whoever manages to get a certain number of votes first wins. I won that one first try. Feeling all invigorated and as if I was game-master, I took on Destination Mars, and oh lord…oh lord.

When did I start this? Can I remember? *brain strains, smoke comes out my ears, more smoke…* I think it was around 10:30 or so. It is now shortly after 2:00. So far, I have crashlanded, exploded, suffocated, been vaporized by aliens, self-destructed due to too much damage, and run out of fuel, most of them multiple times. Who said dos games were simple? *flop*.

Slow the Hell Down!

I’m really starting to think we try to pack way way way too much into the day. Either that or we’re getting lazier and lazier. I was watching a show on TV when a commercial came on for something that scared me. It was for premade smoothies from McCain. Does that frighten anyone else? When I think smoothie, I think cool blended fruity creation that I decided to whip up from fresh fruit I had around. Or I think of a drink that’s made in front of me at a coffee shop somewhere. I don’t think crack open a can and drink like pop. I can’t find references to the McCain ones anywhere to find out what’s in them, but I found something similar that apparently started being made a few years ago. It combined some kind of juice and something called veggie milk. Does that scare anyone? These smoothies just seem a little too smooth for my liking.

Then I saw another ad for Uncle Ben’s rice that started off with “Minute rice too complicated?” What? How complicated can adding some rice to some water and cooking be? This new rice came in its own microwavable bowl and the ad bragged about how there were no “pots”. Plural? For some rice? Why in hell would your average person need multiple pots to cook some rice? What is in this rice that makes it even easier to make than minute rice? I can’t seem to find it so I can find out and be scared forever.

It makes me think of what one comedian, Brian Regan, said about the microwave directions on packages of pop tarts. If your life is so busy that you only have time to spare three seconds to nuke the pop tarts, then maybe you should slow down a little. Do we really have to have everything premade? Has anyone noticed that it doesn’t taste nearly as good? Hey I like a little of that stuff, but premade smoothies and minute rice being too complicated? That’s going a little too far I think.

What are Those Things on My Head For?

Sometimes I wonder if we’re de-evolving and some people have lost the ability to use those round things with black centres that change in size with the light, ya know, eyes? I have to admit, some people are very observant. I met a guy who could put everything he moved back where he found it. but today I met some people who probably wouldn’t notice if aliens landed in their front yard.

I went out to get some things, and went to cross the street like I always do. But the traffic lights were not working, so the cars were sort of just playing nice and waiting for each other to go through. This is pretty crazy, because five streets meet at this corner at weird angles.

When I get to the store, which is on the corner of these streets, and walk in and mention that the traffic lights aren’t working, I get a response as if I’m speaking another language. These people, who could presumably look out the window and see the chaos out there, were completely unaware of it. If they couldn’t do that, the store is full of people, so I’m sure at least one of them would have mentioned how nuts it was that this major traffic light was on the fritz. But they had no idea, and thought I was on crack.

This isn’t an isolated incident. Otherwise I could just say the girl working in the store is a total ditz and laugh it off. But I can’t count the number of times I have pointed at a sign and said, “what does that say?” and gotten a bewildered “I don’t know!” If people aren’t just plain unobservant, I can only conclude that the illiteracy problem is overwhelming in this town, and I’m afraid.

I know I’m not the most observant person in the world and probably miss stuff. But I think if I had a set of working eyes, I’d be able to read a sign or notice a street corner in utter chaos. At least, I’d hope so.

Rememberance Day Brawl

So Thursday I head out with some friends for a little clubbing. Around 2:’ish the place is dying down and we’re starving so we decided to go across the street, loaded to the gills, to Denny’s for some early morning food. Over the course everyone’s buzz starts to die but we’re all still pretty happy. We finish our meals and head up to the front to pay. As we walk by a table with some people who appear to be like us, young loaded and hungry. But something’s different. Where the rest of us are wearing poppies, this chick’s wearing a poppy with the Nazi symbol through the center of it.

Needless to say, we’re disgusted. Words start to be exchanged between our group and theirs. It starts to get heated between Aaron and Chris and a few of them. My buddy Shane and I manage to get them shoved outside to avoid incident and just got the girls we were with to take our cash and pay.

So we think this is done. We’re outside waiting for our cab still pissed and still talking about it when the assholes come outside and start yelling again. Now I’m right with Aaron and Chris in principle, I’d love to just beat on these assholes. But they ain’t worth it. So Shane and I get in between them again andit looks like it’s calmed down and these people are walking away. I turn back to speak to another friend and when I look back Chris and Aaron are waking after them. So I take off after them and get ahold of Aaron. He tells me he doesn’t wanna do anything but he’s gotta back up Chris in case something happens. We get them reeled back in and everything dies down but it was looking pretty hairy there for a while.

It brings up an interesting debate though. I think the part that hurt the most in the whole thing was that no matter how disrespectful and disgusting what they did was, all those soldiers died so that they have every right to do it. It’s an interesting moral conclusion to have to try and come to. Half the 2nd World War was about tollerance, or a lack there of, so no matter how pissed off what these people did makes me, you have to tollerate or its almost like an additional slap in the face to everything they fought for. It was quite a moral delemma. Pound the retards, or respect the vets. When in doubt, go with the vet’s I suppose.