Seinfeld-ian rant.

I just realized something that's been bothering me for a while. Weathermen. And their graphs. I always wondered why they show those detailed maps, explaining the import of warm fronts, cold fronts, southeasterly winds etc... It sort of just lodged in the bag of my mind under the heading "curious", but recently I thought of it again. Who, besides other weathermen and nerdy geography geeks, actually gives a shit about the warm fronts, cold fronts, where they're coming from, and whether or not we're going to get a mild southwesterly wind tomorrow morning that'll taper off into a cool breeze around 2pm??

Who needs a detailed map with figures no one is even mildy interested in? All I need is two words "hot or cold". The weather could be satisfyingly explained in 20 seconds. The truth is the extra few minutes are just another way for the TV station to generate revenue (you'll notice the weather is always "Brought to you by" some company, usually one that is less than willing to pay for a 15 or 30 sec commercial spot). So in the future just tell me the temperature old man and pass it off to the sports guy. That's all.

New Year.

New Year, new blog look. What do you think?

Seems I finally got bitten by the flu bug, who apparently didn't take kindly to my earlier comments on my aversion to germs. Seems he's a touch protective. Oh well. Right now I'm juiced on Tylenol Cold and Flu and it seems to be working it's magic. That and the 4 shots of whiskey I had with lunch. The good news is I am off until January 2nd, and I intend on making it a productive break. That's right - booze and women and poker and movies, the magic combo.

Happy New Year to everyone... to lots of success in the new year, and all the spoils that come with it! To ridiculous fortune and adventure. To rivers of vodka filled with naked mermaids. Amen.

Random ramblings.

I've become a sort of germ freak. I blame it on Howie Mandel. After all, if Howie can't shake people's hands, then why should I? I've started giving the Howie "fist" hello, and people are giving me strange looks, as if I'm nuts. Bloody wankers. Go spread your germs to some other unsuspecting fool. My office is an open concept, which for a virus is the equivalent of open season on humans. People coughing, sneezing and generally showering the surrounding area with malevolent microbes intent on destruction. OK, so this is mostly in jest, but it does cross my mind here and there. Anyone know where I can rent a bubble?

There's a new girl at work. She got the job because she's the friend of a big hitter. And because she has attitude. I generally don't dislike people upon first sight, but for her I make an exception. She is a drama queen. She has quickly become the butt of office jokes because she just has to be the centre of attention, like the annoying keener girl in high school who constantly and desperately raises her hand to answer even the most simplest of questions, like "what day is it class?". She says random things during work hours like "my boyfriend's an idiot but the sex is unbelievable!", which gets eyeballs rolling and maintains her goal of being the most talked about person in the office. She'll then wink and nod and exclaim "what? It really is unbelievable!" The most annoying part of all is that she does it with a huge smile on her face! She's attractive enough for you to forgive her the first few times. That grace period ended about 4 hrs into her first day. Clueless!

I really wasn't angry at all before writing this post! And I thought writing was supposed to be cathartic! That's it, I'm done!

CHEERS!

McClane is back! Live free or DIE HARD!

Click here!

[On the radio]
Hans Gruber: Mister Mystery Guest? Are you still there?
John McClane: Yeah, I'm still here. Unless you wanna open the front door for me.
Hans Gruber: Uh, no I'm afraid not. But you have me at a loss. You know my name but who are you? Just another American who saw too many movies as a child? Another orphan of a bankrupt culture who thinks he's John Wayne? Rambo? Marshall Dillon?
John McClane: Was always kinda' partial to Roy Rogers actually. I really dig those sequined shirts.
Hans Gruber: Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mister Cowboy?
John McClane: Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.

Funny stuff

Borat at it again. Click here and enjoy.

Let's go get tanked!

Atop the pedestal.

I work in a very sales-driven, performance oriented environment, which means that during the good times you are fairly happy and during the bad times you want to tie two ton boulders to your balls and take a swan dive off the Golden Gate bridge.

When your numbers are good, you are put on a pedestal; when your numbers are bad you might as well be invisible. It's like a training ground for a giant manic-depressive army. I closed another deal this week, so for a brief shining moment I am atop the pedestal once more. And while I intend to enjoy the rarefied air of being a dealmaker for at least another 24hrs, I know it's a fleeting pleasure. So it's back to the hunt, old chap!

Need sleep!!!!!!!!!!!

bittersweet

This might be a little misjointed so bear with me, I'm giving my internal editor the night off. Lord knows he deserves a break.

To see someone you love upset or in pain is very difficult. To see someone you love uncontrollably upset is devastating. It's almost as if you want to take on some of the pain for them, carry some of their burden. Emotional pain is harder to deal with than physical pain, because it can't be treated with a band-aid, a cup of hot cocoa and a smile. I can't say I've ever been in love; lust yes, love no. (Actually I was positively giddy over this one girl I knew a long time ago. I told anyone who would listen that I loved her. Except her. Let's call it puppy love.) I am a bit of a romantic however, as bizarre as that may seem to anyone who knows me. But I've seen the debris and destruction left in love's wake. And I can't say its a great advert for the "happily ever-after" fairytale we all seek. Love is a battlefield.

How else can you explain the fact that dozens upon dozens of so-called self-help gurus ride the top of the bestseller charts, peddling their Dalai Lama-"isms" and new-age bullshit to their eagerly awaiting public? Has anyone ever understood a full sentence written by Deepak Chopra? What's that Deepak? I should spread my wings like a butterfly and soar above my troubles? You have got to be f'n kidding me Deepak. I agree that introspection is helpful, hell I'll even admit that meditation has its uses. But a bookful of poetic phrases is not the answer to all of life's ills. Take a breath of fresh air once in a while, smell the proverbial roses. Eat more fruit. Exercise. It may not be poetic but it's a good start.
peace.
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bring on the weekend

So I've now played 6 soccer games in 10 days, which has been quite fun, but left me with little in the way of sleep, bearing in mind the average start time has been 10pm. Staying awake after lunch has become a huge challenge; quite frankly the strain of keeping my eyelids open and not succumbing to a glorious sleep has become almost torturous. Seriously. I've tried Red Bull etc...but I am seemingly immune to its magical properties of energization.

Tomorrow is our holiday party, and while many an article in the papers these days advises against getting plastered and hitting on co-workers at these events, I will be going full throttle. If anyone is in the downtown area and can give my sorry arse a ride back to the 'Hill that would be much appreciated. Unless of course we get taxi chits, in which case I will make sure to get hammered and yak all over the back seat while intermittently listening to my driver regale me with his conspiracy theories and political rants.

Have yourselves a merry little weekend.

cheers.

TV edition

So I admit to watching 3 TV series religiously. Prison Break, Lost, 24 and Studio 60. All make for compelling viewing. Prison Break is definitely one of the more exciting shows to hit the waves in the last few years, and it has enough twists to surprise even a cynic like me, who predicts plot twists with the confidence of someone who has seen everything in the book. The season ender was outstanding. Lost had a bad second season, which though still watchable lost (no pun intended) most of what made the 1st season so memorable...i.e. intrigue, suspense and interesting character development. The 3rd season though has drawn me in. Studio 60 is a bit preachy, using the goings-on behind a skit show as a soap box upon which to discuss weightier issues like censorship, politics, religion etc. But it is very well written, witty, smart and well acted. And I don't want to miss an episode.

HOUSE - I watch this show occasionally, and it amazes me. Most of the show is Dr. House diagnosing weird medical situations and explaining them to his team of young experts. And the writers, it seems, throw in every single medical term ever invented. Needless to say if you don't have an MD beside your name you will be lost for the majority of the episode. It would probably be easier to understand a Greek person trying to explain Shakespeare to a Chinese person...using ancient Gaelic. Yet people seem to enjoy it. Ask them afterwards to explain the episode and I guarantee 90% wont' have a clue what they've witnessed.
"Um, House saved the little boy?" or "They stuck a needle in the guy's thinga-majig and cured his whatcha-ma-callit?
Yet the writing is sharp, and the title character is indeed a lovable misantrope if that's at all possible. And that's all it takes - the key, I think, is making people THINK they understand, and hence making them believe they're smarter than they actually are. In the end, this is probably the best possible outcome from an hourlong drama.


peace.

Brittney Spears killed my computer.

It was a very relaxing weekend for the most part, which was enjoyable after a sleep-less week. As you can see it's close to 2am so the bitter cycle is starting again. Watched some footie, worked out, saw friends, played some poker, soccer and a lot of TV catching up in-between.

Then something happened today illustrating the depth of Murphy's Law. My virus software has been out of date for 2 months. Every day I get the message saying my computer is at risk! Heaven forbid! Today I decided to act. Instead of getting the same software, after speaking to Gopo I decided to switch. In order to do that I needed to uninstall the old software, which I did. In the 5 minutes before I installed the new software, I get an MSN message, telling me to click a link - the text of which made sense in regards to a discussion I had with the sender the previous evening about a certain pop-star. So I click the link.

The link was a virus, a Trojan. A Trojan, as the name cleverly suggests, hides in your computer until the time someone wants to take it over. So, let's recap quickly. I haven't been sent one of these viruses in the last 4 years or so. I haven't been without virus software in about 8 years. In the space of the only 5 unprotected minutes over 8 years, I get sent a virus. That being said, I wouldn't usually click a suspicious link. However, strangely enough, the text of the link perfectly fit the last discussion I had with the sender. All these things happen at once and I'm left shaking my head. Brittney Spears, I hope you're happy you slag!

have a good week!

How not to be an AFC

Click here.

This post will self destruct in 72 hrs.

Another year...

So after playing 3 soccer games in the space of 5 days, I've begun to consider the fact that my body is not the machine it once was. When we were young, our bodies and muscles repaired themselves quickly and painlessly. But now, while I love playing and would like to play as long as I can, the end of every game is usually followed by aching knees, back, neck etc... and the reality is that I probably won't be playing much soccer in 10 years time. And that's a scary thought - maybe I really AM getting old. However, I guess it's up to me to keep myself fit and in the game.
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What to do? There is a 30-ish Asian man at work who I see occasionally but don't work closely with at all. We don't exchange greetings aside from the occasional nod of recognition. In fact, the main area in which I see him is the washroom. The last few times I have seen him he will stand in the urinal beside me and, as he's taking care of business, unexpectedly release a cacophony of loud farts. At first I thought perhaps this was part of Candid Camera and peered around checking for the camera crew with a knowing grin on my face. Then after they didn't materialize I thought, poor guy he can't hold it in, and I empathized with his plight, though I wanted to laugh my head off. The next few times I was slightly embarrassed for him but now I find it sort of rude. I mean where is the sense of common decency? Should I recommend Tums? I almost want to spread this tidbit around the office during the dozen or so meaningless convos I have in a day.
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PS I realize there's been a bit of toilet humour in the last few blogs, it is not an indication of future subjects, just one of those coincidences.


Have a great weekend. Get sloshed. Go crazy. GO REDS.