I'm glad I'm a guy!

My sister called to say happy birthday while I was eating my cake. She took the opportunity to complain about her kid-to-be. She's had a foot in her ribs all day and it won't move. And it's had the hiccups all day. It's been very uncomfortable for her.

Thank you, Y chromosones, I owe you one!!

Happy Birthday to me!

My parents did the birthday thing with me last night. Best steakhouse in town. I had an 8 ounce sirloin with 4 BBQ prawns, a stuffed potato and a hunk of foccacia garlic bread. Oh yeah, and a the salad and soup that they start you off with. Then I had desert! Mud pie! It's kinda set up like a cheese cake - same type of crust and all, but it's an ice cream cake. Hot damn that was good! Then we went over to my parent's place and I got a nice fat birthday cheque! I'll be putting that into my "Kyle needs new toys" fund.

The best thing is I still get cake & ice cream tonight!

It's official. I'm Old.

Well, today I bought an RRSP. I am now saving money for retirement. I tell myself I only did it for the tax savings. Yeah right, and I only read it for the articles!

Last birthday ever.

That's it, I'm done, I'm not going to have any more at all, ever. The end. Fin. Over.

I turn 29 on saturday. I've decided that I won't have any more after that either. But don't let that discourage you from bringing over presents and cake. You know, just because you care. And that means that you don't have to restrict yourself to just once a year, either. Three or four times a year sounds about right.

Pants?

You're a cheeky little rapscallion! That's what you are!

So there. I told you!

WTF??

Did I just whistle up a wind? I checked my dating profile thing again today for the first time since I wrote this post... And There's another one. From Morogoro Tanzania. *slowly shaking head and sighing* Edmonton = 53 35' N 113 30' W Calgary = 51 05' N 114 10'W. Get a map people!! Yeesh. If I was dating a girl who went to Tanzania on some sort of NGO humanitarian or peacekeeping type situation, no problem. Email and satellite phones to the rescue. If I got an email on this dating thing from someone in Tanzania temporarily under similar circumstances that as going to be returning to Alberta, Great, we’ll meet for a latte when you get back, and so on. But I am so not going to even look at a profile of someone who is a permanent resident of some other blinkin hemisphere! OK, so I did peek a little, kinda like driving by a traffic accident. But no, not happening.

I am such a fuckwit

I don't have a home phone. No sense wasting the money on a landline when I have a perfectly good cell phone and I don't use that enough to really justiify the added expense.

Last night as I finished work (closing shift) I went to my locker, put my apron away, put on my jacket and punched out. Leaving my cell phone in my locker. And no way to recover it until this morning. D'oh! I hope my parents aren't looking for me at all today because I needed to charge it last night, so it's probably stone dead by now. My parents generally panic when I am not in frequent communication with them.

So I'm heading off to recover my phone now. At least I can make a useful trip out of it and get a few groceries while I'm out.

Ponderings from an idle mind

Last night as I'm making supper (Hamburgers and perogies!) I start thinking. I'm using my Montreal Steak Spice to season the sauteed onions, and I wonder:

If french toast is called "Golden Toast" in Quebec, what is Montreal Steak Spice called? Do they even have it there or what? And did it really get started there or did they just think it sounded cool at some food lab in Mississauga?

Nasty, nasty stuff at the gym

I'm all for freedom of expression. I understand that when someone invests the time and effort to get ripped, they want to show off: They are (quite justifiably) proud of their accomplishments. But there should be a licensing board in order to wear cropped belly shirts. Mandatory six-pack or something. I almost dropped the weights when I saw a woman walk into the weight room with a belly shirt on - she had to be pushing 60, and there were visible rolls of flab hanging down below the bottom of her shirt, covering the waistband of her stretch pants. There is just no need for that! Owww my eyes!

The other thing that I just have to shake my head at about my gym: It's a city owned multi use recreation facility. There are ice rinks, indoor soccer pitches, a gymnastics club, a wave pool, two weight rooms and an indoor running track etc. It's like a fitness mall. With a food court. That sells healthy stuff like French fries (Healthy food selection!!) that reek of grease which hasn't been heated up hot enough so the fries have got to be soggy as a newspaper on the bottom of a swimming pool. I could smell them the whole time I was running today, and I just barely avoided a bad case of dry heaves every time I got to that part of the track. **retch** Just what I need when I'm trying to get in shape!

Why are people blind to the blindingly obvious?

So.

I do the online dating thing. Some modest success, but some not so successful things too.

I suppose there are people out there who think "stunned" is a compliment, but for the love of Pete, couldn't somebody please take away their internet access? Helooooooo? (knocks on forehead) Anybody home??? There should be some sort of sign like at the theme parks: You must be this tall to ride. Only now it should read: You must be this smart to use a computer.

F'rinstince: Earlier this month I got an email reply to my profile. From an eligible bachelorette in I think it was Manila, Philippines. She thought I was just so dashing and handsome that she just had to write and tell me what a great wife she would make (of course after I get the immigration figured out and fly her across the pacific!) However in the Philippines they must not teach the concept of distance in schools... I draw the line at Edmonton/Calgary. Manila is outside of this circle. Try again lady, there may be some other schmuck willing to sponsor you and your entire family to come to Canada.

It's not however a one time problem. Nor is it limited to immigration scams. A month or two ago a nice (I suppose) young lady from central Newfoundland indicated her interest with a wink. Now I suppose that since Alberta has the highest population of Newfoundlanders of any province in Canada, including Newfoundland itself, she might have thought that was close enough. If she had indicated that she was going to be a part of the newfie tide washing up in my province, cool! But she said in her profile how much she loved living in NF and gave no indication of any pending move. Sorry honey, you get to go on a date with Mr. Delete Button.

I did the long distance thing once, for three and a half years. Alberta to Nova Scotia was hard enough for one year. If somehow you, dear reader, were to stumble across my dating profile and think of me as cute enough to wink at, stop and think... Am I within that Edmonton/Calgary circle? No? Thanks but no thanks.

I do my internet dating in a way befitting my Scottish heritage (No, there are no sheep in this story. Go piss up a rope!) That is, I do it on the cheap. I put an email address into my profile, contrary to the site's terms of service. All a prospective interested party needs to do is say, "Gosh, I wonder why there are extra, glaringly obvious words which are fully capitalized and do not fit the paragraphs at the end of each answer? I think I'll email him anyways and say I'm interested, leaving my email address in it's normal form so the mail server can delete it, even though this chap has left a reminder that it will be deleted from the message. Then I'll email him again, do the same thing and ask why he hasn't written back!"

I don't think this is a bad thing, really. It helps eliminate the thicker bachelorettes from contention so I don't have to sort them into groups: A) Have a brain made of rice crispies. B) Have useable cognitive function

The thing of it is, If these women were actually interested in getting to know me, I think they would take a few seconds to actually read the bloody profile! I mean, it's not that hard! Top to bottom, left to right. Compare what I've written to what you think about your own self. Get to the end and then ask if all of those blanks are filled in. Ask yourself why there are extra, blatant words in the answers in a certain order. then if you really do want to get to know me, connect the dots, figure out the email address, and carry on. I extend the same courtesy to you by reading all of your profile and not just randomly clicking.

But hell, what am I expecting? People can't figure out how to use a turn signal or drive in the right lane when they want to drive at 15 km/h under the speed limit, so why should they be able to master any other simple concept.

Supper time

I'm Hungry.

I need something to eat but I don't know what I want. I may just wind up getting that pizza I've been denying myself. Then I'll go for a run and try to find the joy in an exploding lung. Whee!

This is perfect!

OK, So you may have read about my rather pointed feelings towards Valentines a couple of days ago. SO... bearing that in mind I give you, my dear reader, this belated valentine card. Especially you, Monkey, since you can see the true danger of red roses!

I've been watching the cartoons on this site for the last hour, almost pissing myself laughing. Yes, I'm a twisted, evil demented disturbed psycho nutjob headcase. But I also have a soft and cuddly side too!

M'eh.

I was going to go to the gym tonight. Honest.

I kinda feel like I need a workout, but I'm too tired after work and I need to get some supper first. This would be a good night to get pizza, but I promised myself not fast food or eating out! Need to put some more cash in the toybox so I can amuse myself later this summer.

Good news cash wise: I am tired tonight because I had to work 2 hours of OT. Which means that the govenment will take it all, and then some extra, and put it to some worthy cause like the Quebec sponsorship ad scam, or maybe the $2 billion gun registry (so the Hells angles have a shopping list of all the guns in the country to steal, especially since criminals are not required to register their illegally imported weapons and now that they and other organised crime/criminal enterprises have comprimised the registry (which is known to the RCMP) they just have to go down the list and pick what they like, and then go steal it!) But I'm not bitter. Not in the least. The government knows much better how to spend my money! Much more useful in some liberal hack's swiss account than in my pocket, "Thanks for taking the time out of your day to make that contibution!"

I want to win the lottery and I'll buy a few of the islands that will be created when the big mofo earthquake hits and BC is moved from the continent North America, over to Atlantis. Then I'll declare independance and my fishing boat will be the Coast guard and Navy, my homebuilt airplanes will be my very own air force, and I'll let the gardener be the army in his time off. Then I won't have to pay any taxes! If anything, as soon as I say I'm going to declare independance, the federal government will start shucking money at me.

Did any of that make any sense at all?

Me either.

Whatever, I'm going to go get some supper.

Count Chocula

OK, so I got me a counter. Thanks StatCounter!

Now I'll be able to keep track of the zillions of people sent here on command by Cat since she told all her readers to stop by. And hey cat, I'm still waiting for that invitation so I can book some holidays! That's the trouble with being a working stiff - got to get the vacation requests in 3 months in advance so we can actually meet in person, and since I only go to Montreal once every 10 years; act now while supplies last, operators are standing by!

Cupid can blow me!

Joe Nichols
What's A Guy Gotta Do
What's... a... guy gotta do to get a girl in this town
Don't wanna be alone when the sun goes down
Just a sweet little somethin to put my arms around
What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town

Well ask anybody I'm a pretty good guy
And the looks decent wagon didn't pass me by
There ain't nothin in my past that I'm tryin hard to hide
And I don't understand why I gotta wonder why

What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town
Don't wanna be alone when the sun goes down
Just a sweet little somethin to put my arms around
What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town

Cruise all around the right parking lots
little time gets killed alotta bull gets shot
one who'll think I'm kinda cute and laugh at every joke I got
when I get to thinkin maybe she's athinkin maybe not

What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town
Don't wanna be alone when the sun goes down
Just a sweet little somethin to put my arms around
What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town

Had an old man tell me "Boy if you were smart
you'd hit the produce isle at the Super Walmart"
So I bumped into a pretty girl's shopping cart
but all I did was break her eggs and bruise her artichoke hearts

What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town
Don't wanna be alone when the sun goes down
Just a sweet little somethin to put my arms around
What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town

What's a guy gotta do to get a girl in this town

Thats about what I think about all this Valentines hooey. Cath, Don't let your soon to be wedded bliss get in the way of anything, I expect you to do your duty to tradition and post "He shoots again" on schedule!

Now don't get me wrong, dear reader! I am a nice enough person, and I make a hell of a great boyfriend, check my references! I am just getting sick of valentines already and the day isn't even here yet. My problem with the whole procedure? I can't find a girl around here who isn't a drunk, drug user, immature or already spoken for. I mean come on already! Surely in this world there must be at least some nice girls left who aren't already married!

Cupid, and the *&%#$ radio DJs who keep cooing about great love songs and all the other crap can get down on their hands and knees and kiss my ass!

In the meantime - to show I'm not bitter, I'm going to go see if I have any new page hits on my dating profile.

Shopping list

1. Hit Counter. Saw something around here about how to get those things set up.

2. Cool pop-out inline comments. Saw that too.

3. Photos. Saw the thing about where to host them, and got a tip on how to do the html code for thumbnails earlier today.

4. cool observations, witty social commentary and acerbic comments about inept co-workers and moronic customers.

5. Recipie for pasta salad. No, not for the blog. For supper, you silly rabbit! I'm hungry and I want to have pork chops and pasta salad for supper, but I can't find a recipie I want to use. Yeesh. You'd figure with this many cookbooks, I could find one like that *snap* and then off to the stove to create another masterpiece of macaroni. Nope, no luck. everything I have is too boring or too involved, a whole meal by itself, or for some other reason unsuitable. I'll just sit here eating my wheat thins and looking for a recipie on the internet I suppose.

I'm like a dog that chases cars:

What the hell do you do with it once you've caught one?

So I've got this here blog. now what? I don't know if my daily life is all that exciting, but what the heck, if you, dear reader, want to read about how I washed the dishes this week, then so be it! I'll have to check out some other blogs and get some ideas I guess.

By the way, If you want to read about me washing dises, you are sadly mistaken! I hate doing the dishes! HATE!!! I am moving to a new apartment with the criteria that there must be a dishwasher and a balcony for me to barbecue on. Minimum standard! I am soooo looking forward to house sitting for my parents this summer: Deck, BBQ, Dishwasher, HDTV bigscreen, free rent! life will be so sweet!

You have to promise to respect me in the morning

So. Here I am.

This is the first time I've ever done any sort of web content provider stuff before. I'll try to be amusing in some way or another. Beyond that, no promises.

Thanks for stopping by!