There’s this store called Zara Home or something like that. Like Pottery Barn, it’s housewares and home knick-knacks but with a European feel. Not like a Ikea, more like a western European feel. I wasn’t in there for anything specific, I was just walking around the mall and walked into this store.
Interesting stuff they got there. The kids section has a bunch of products branded with this cartoon blob family. Imagine the blob thingees from Herculoids mixed with Mr. Men. They also had some stuffed animals. They had this really cute sheep. And there was this snake.
This snake was very interesting. The first four inches or so past the head was stiff while the rest of the tail naturally coiled. That structure allowed the snake to lift up it’s head like it was about to strike.
As I rest the snake back down in the bin with it’s head up, a woman’s hand appears in my vision from my right and smacks the toy snake. “I knocked down your snake,” a woman proudly boasted.
“So,” I blurted as I walked away. I believe it was Jesus who is credited with the quote “Turn the other cheek.” That was my choice of action in this situation.
I was surprised by that sort of behaviour from that sort of person. Grade school bully behaviour is unexpected when found from a thirty-something woman in a shopping mall when a parking spot is NOT up for grabs. This woman, tall, thirty-something, stylishly dressed, nice hair, not bad to look at; for some reason decided to play schoolyard bully at a housewares store.
What did this woman have to gain by this action? What was her goal? Was she trying to be playful? It certainly didn’t come across as playful.
Carmine didn’t get the joke. Two days later, people were still trying to explain it to him. “How are we supposed to make fun of you if you’re too stupid to know you’re being made fun of. ”
Santa was good to me this year. Did you know Santa has a time machine? I didn’t. Now I do. Santa brought me a book, a book published in 2014.
Juice and Juicette announced they’re having a baby tentatively named Sippycup.
Bob and Bobbette are still childless. Well, I hope so. I saw Bobbette put away a decent amount of wine. Meanwhile Bob was just spilling wine all over the table and two of the guests sitting across the table. I tell you, this guy is a klutz. I bet that’s why Bobbette is still not pregnant. Bob probably misses a lot. “Sorry honey. Maybe tomorow. I missed again. Got it all over the night table. Some on the head board. I even managed to get some out the window. Don’t ask how.”
New Year’s Eve was dull. Home by 9:30 and asleep by 10.
And the Wonder Twins got engaged. I coulda sworn they got engaged ten years ago. I guess engagements have expiry dates and need to be renewed. Oh well. Good for them.
I want to blog but I don’t know what to blog about. I could blog about the ice storm that has hit Southern Ontario. I could blog about how there are actually people using this ice storm as a way to further punish Mayor Rob Ford. Okay, I’m going to blog about that a little bit.
Mayor Ford has not declared a state of emergency. If he does, what little power he currently holds will be temporarily stripped from him and placed into the hands of, the currently more powerful deputy mayor, Norm Kelly. The anti-Ford preachers are saying that Ford won’t declare the state of emergency because he doesn’t want to give up his power. This ice storm was not isolated to the City of Toronto. It hit all neighbouring municipalities. No states of emergency have been declared. Why would Ford do something that none of his peers are doing? Oh right, because Rob Ford is a witch and must be publicly flogged.
Or maybe I could blog about my current television habits. I’ve been binge-watching Impractical Jokers. I love this show. I cannot get enough of it even though it causes me physical pain. I laugh so hard while watching this show that I fall off the sofa and roll around on the floor, pounding my fists on the ground. My throat hurts from all the laughing. My ribs are sore from all the chuckling. My voice is hoarse from gasping for air.
This is the premise of the show. You got these four guys who go out into public accompanied by hidden cameras and microphones and they set challenges for each other. If any of the four fail to complete the challenge, they receive a “Thumbs down.” At the end of the show, the guy with the most “Thumbs down” is punished. Most challenges are pretty simple. The one guy goes into public with a ear-piece connecting him to a microphone manned by the other three. The one guy has to do and say whatever the other three tell him to do. If he doesn’t do what he’s told, he fails. For example, they go into IKEA and pose as store employees in the bedding section. One guy, Murr, had to get a customer to lie down in a bed with him and let him take a selfie of the two of them together. And he did it. Another guy, Q, had to put on pajamas and get a customer to tuck him into bed and tell him a bedtime story. And he did it. In another episode, they posed as White Castle employees. On top of the usual “Do and say whatever your told” they also had to solicit tips from customers. If a guy did not get a tip, he failed. In this challenge, Q had to speak in pseudo old english. He failed to get a tip from a customer so he got a thumbs down. As for the punishments; they are basically challenges that only the loser has to complete. For example, Q was being punished. He had to walk through a public park wearing a sandwich board that read “I’m being punished. Ask me what I have to do.” He had guess the last meal a stranger had ate solely by smelling their breath. My words fail to do the program the justice it deserves. You can easily find clips on YouTube. Check it out. At the very least, watching some clips of Impractical Jokers will give you a glimpse into what makes my mind tick, what I find so funny that I’m hurting myself.
Or maybe I could blog about Christmas. Christmas is coming. It’s tomorrow. I plan to sleep in. Then I plan to eat some lunch. Then I plan to take a nap. Yeah! Sleep and food and sleep! I’m not sure that’s what God had in mind when he orchestrated the birth of Jesus Christ but I think plenty of rest and a full belly will make me a better person.
Or maybe I should blog about Boxing Day. Boxing Day is a holiday celebrated in Britain and nations in the Commonwealth. Although it is celebrated all over the Commonwealth, each member celebrates it differently. In Britain, Boxing Day is celebrated by taking a day off work to box up all the Christmas decorations. And to sober up a bit from all the Christmas wine. In Canada, Boxing Day is celebrated by going out shopping for products that come in cardboard boxes. Things like televisions and computers and digital cameras. In Australia, Boxing Day is celebrated by going outside and having fist fights with local kangaroos. In Jamaica, it’s called Hot-Boxing Day. I’ll let you guess what Jamaicans do that day.
Or maybe I can blog about how I’m pranking Carmine this Christmas. I got Carmine some Game of Thrones DVDs for Christmas but I wrapped the gift inside a prank box. The box I put the gift in is a specifically designed gag prank box. The box itself is for a fictional product called an “iDrive.” It’s supposed to be this device thing that allows you to attach your iPad or similar gadget to your steering wheel, so that you may play Angry Birds or whatever while driving. Carmine being the illiterate by choice boob that he is, is going to think it’s a iPad and get all excited. “Oooh, you got me an iPad” I know he will exclaim. Then he will open the box, completely ignore the writing on the inside that reads “This is a prank box” and get disappointed when all he finds is some DVDs. I know you are all interested in learning how this turns out. Don’t worry. I will keep you posted.
Or maybe I could blog about my upcoming New Year’s resolutions. As usual, I feel that if it’s worth doing, why wait for New Year’s to resolve some problem with myself, of which there are none. I’m perfect, bitches! But a little while ago I started boycotting Tim Hortons. I have not once visited a Tim Hortons or consumed any Tim Hortons products since starting my boycott. As long as Tim Hortons continues to sell pathetic and tiny doughnuts, doughnuts not worthy of human or subhuman consumption, I will continue to boycott their products. I might even expand my boycott to their sister company Wendys. The Wendys location near my shop has gone down hill recently. They’ve been over-cooking the burger patties and serving them on what seems like slightly stale buns. Boo Wendys, boo!
There, I’ve managed to put down over one thousand words on nothing. That should do it. Merry Christmas and Happy Boxing Day everybody!
Carmine reached into the bag of de-icing salt and threw it onto his driveway. He did this bare-handed. Once I saw him do this, I yelled at him and told him to go wash his hands thoroughly as the salt will burn his hands. To his credit, he eventually listened to me.
He returned from the bathroom and stated “You know, as soon as I got inside, my hand felt burning.”
If I didn’t stop him, he would have salted his whole driveway and would have spent the rest of the day complaining that his hand is burning and not known why.
As I’m writing this, on the radio, people are talking about power outages due to the ice storm. This one guy called in and said “I don’t want to rub salt in the wounds here but if we had solar power, this wouldn’t have happened.”
He’s right. But not in the way he thinks. If we relied on solar power, the power outages would be worse. First of all, the solar panels would be covered in ice. My neighbours who have solar panels, have their panels covered in ice right now. Secondly, we haven’t had sunlight in three days.
These fucking three-huggin’ hippies who lack common sense get me so pissed off. Solar panels require sunlight to generate electricity. If the panels are covered in ice on a cloudy day, no electricity is going to be generated from those panels.
I bought one of those car reindeer kits. You know that stupid thing that transforms a car into a red-nosed reindeer: two fake antlers that attach to car windows and a puffy red nose ball that ties to a car grill. Yeah, I bought one of those sets and attached it to Carmine’s car.
He wasn’t amused.
I was amused. Especially when after he removed the antlers but left the nose because he didn’t know it was there. He drove around town with the nose until somebody mentioned it to him.
Saturday afternoon I shoveled the snow from my driveway. Then again on Sunday morning. The Saturday shoveling was the pre-emptive strike. There wasn’t more than an inch or so down but it allowed me to create a base for shoveling and remove the car tracks knowing full well a larger snowfall was coming. I also laid down a coat of salt to soften up that approaching snowfall. Sunday’s snowfall was significant but not debilitating. It took me an hour and a half to clear the driveway and front walkway, but it was done. And it was some good cardio.
I still managed to go out a few times over the weekend.
Sunday afternoon, I was driving down this one side street. A car turned onto that street in front of me. It still amazes me that people need to be reminded that there is a difference between summer and winter driving. This car took the turn much to quickly. The front wheels turned properly and stayed in the right lane. The rear wheels didn’t turn and went into the left lane. The car straightened itself out and drove ahead. Seeing all this unfold in front of me, I casually slowed down and kept a safe, very safe distance between myself and the crazy, turns-too-much car. Because, I kept my distance, I wasn’t sure if this car had it’s trunk open or not. It seemed to me like the trunk wasn’t properly shut. As this car drove over a speed bump, the trunk opened up all the way. A couple of seconds later, the car slowed down and pulled over. I’m assuming to close the open trunk. I didn’t stick around to find out. I passed the car and made it safely to my destination.
I understand that in Finland or some such place, obtaining a driver’s license is dependant on passing a winter driving test. I think Canada should implement such a program. Yes, I’m against further intrusion by an inept government but I’m also worried about having to share the road with idiots who don’t know how to drive. Then again, an inept government, such as the one I’m currently living under, does a piss-poor job of preventing unlicensed drivers from being behind the wheel of a car. I guess I’m fucked either way.
Somebody called Carmine “grandpa” on Sunday. It was sort of meant as a joke but his face turned white anyway. And that got me thinking about the word “grandpa.” Grandfather, grandmother, grandparent; those words all sound so 19th century. Grand is no longer the superlative it once was. The role, the title, it needs a modernization. I’m thinking of replacing “grand” with something more contemporary, something like “super” or “mega.” Take Carmine for example, could he ever be a granddad? NO! But a megadad. Oh yeah, I think that’s more Carmine’s style.
Here is the annual WIGSF Christmas wish list.
I wish for only three Christmas songs to find their way into my ears: Santa Claus is Coming to Town by Bruce Springsteen, Feliz Navidad by Jose Feliciano and Grandma Got Runover by a Reindeer.
I wish for peace on Earth but massive, violent upheaval on Mars. Fuck those Martians. I want them all to die.
I wish for inspiration for my annual gingerbread men. I cannot think of a theme this year.
I wish for Coca-Cola to introduce a skinny version of their iconic Santa Claus image. That way they can put Santa on advertisements and packaging for Diet Coke and Coke Zero.
I wish for a pizza. What? I like pizza.
I wish for the Tenderloins to perform in Toronto so that I may catch a performance.
I wish for all the Muppets to come to life and walk amongst us just like they do in the movies.
I have to hand it to the Germans. Those people figure everything out.
Over here, Santa Claus has a list of all the children in which he sorts them into “nice” or “naughty.” In Germany, they got this anti-Santa. It’s called Krampus. On December 5th, Krampus arrives into town with a big, empty sack. He then steals all the naughty children and takes them back to his lair. What he does to them in his lair; I don’t know. I don’t particularly care. I just like the concept of a demonic being stealing naughty children instead of the Santa Claus lump of coal punishment.
Coal has a value. Coal is fuel. It’s a source of energy. It isn’t a toy but it can be used to generate heat, especially in the winter.
Nuts to the lump of coal. We want Krampus! We want Krampus! We want Krampus!