You just knew I could not let the passing of Blaque Jacques go without a brief posting. So here it is.
He's dead. If ever there was anyone who we can assume will be buried wearing a three-piece suit, it's him. Perhaps with his thumbs permanently in his vest.
I don't think there are a lot of the heavyweights of the old PQ left now. I shan't miss any of their politics, although I am sure my old friend PQ Face is in mourning today. But you know who is not in mourning? Money and the ethnic vote! that's who.
Tuesday, June 02, 2015
Monday, May 18, 2015
U.N.C.L.E.
Last night I went with Smoothie to see the new Max Mad. I liked it. But, being an old bag, there was one thing that really disappointed me, and perhaps this is true of all movies being made today.
Back in the day of the original Road Warrior, sonny, there was no CGI. So we knew that that desert, those desolate highways...they really did exist somewhere in the Australian outback. They were real places. If we ever took it upon ourselves to go there, we could actually be on those roads. Now with CGI, none of the places in the movie really exists. To me, this is a great loss for the movie-goer's imagination.
(Tom Hardy is no Mel Gibson. But that's another story. Not his fault, really. Nobody else is the young Mel Gibson either. Even old Mel Gibson is nothing like the young Mel Gibson. C'est la vie.)
But the point of this post is not Road Warrior 2.0 at all. It's Smoothie. As we were leaving the cinema, we were discussing sequels and remakes and how nothing lives up to the original (although Max Mad Fury Road IS a very, very good exciting action movie). And Smoothie pointed to one of the Upcoming Attractions posters and said "Like that one, The Man from You En Cee Ell Eee. I burst out laughing. It's Uncle, The Man From Uncle. BUT, BUT, there's a period after each letter! he argued. And I had to admit that for someone his age, not familiar with the show, it made perfect sense to think it was You En Cee Ell Eee, and not Uncle. He said, is U.N.C.L.E. some kind of United Nations thing? I thought that was what the U.N. stood for. Amazing to see this thing from another generation's point of view. Nothing is as obvious as it first appears.
Back in the day of the original Road Warrior, sonny, there was no CGI. So we knew that that desert, those desolate highways...they really did exist somewhere in the Australian outback. They were real places. If we ever took it upon ourselves to go there, we could actually be on those roads. Now with CGI, none of the places in the movie really exists. To me, this is a great loss for the movie-goer's imagination.
(Tom Hardy is no Mel Gibson. But that's another story. Not his fault, really. Nobody else is the young Mel Gibson either. Even old Mel Gibson is nothing like the young Mel Gibson. C'est la vie.)
But the point of this post is not Road Warrior 2.0 at all. It's Smoothie. As we were leaving the cinema, we were discussing sequels and remakes and how nothing lives up to the original (although Max Mad Fury Road IS a very, very good exciting action movie). And Smoothie pointed to one of the Upcoming Attractions posters and said "Like that one, The Man from You En Cee Ell Eee. I burst out laughing. It's Uncle, The Man From Uncle. BUT, BUT, there's a period after each letter! he argued. And I had to admit that for someone his age, not familiar with the show, it made perfect sense to think it was You En Cee Ell Eee, and not Uncle. He said, is U.N.C.L.E. some kind of United Nations thing? I thought that was what the U.N. stood for. Amazing to see this thing from another generation's point of view. Nothing is as obvious as it first appears.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Today in "I'm really old" news
I went to the bank at lunch time to redeem some Canada Savings Bonds. Remember Canada Savings Bonds? Your parents and grand-parents probably had some.
These were "heirloom" bonds that my dad had purchased in 1992 (!) and were transferred to me when he passed away. The Canadian govt officially notified me that they were kaput and no longer earning interest as of last November.
(Why did I wait 6 months to redeem them? I lost my safety deposit box keys...but that's a whole other post.)
Anyway, I accompanied the bank lady into the vault to retrieve my safety deposit box and my bonds and then went downstairs to redeem. We're talking a whole $2,000 here!
The bank teller (age 12) looked at them and said: "Wow, I'll have to ask how to do this because I've never seen one of these before! This is great. I'm learning something today." Great, kid, happy to help.
His supervisor showed him what to do (FYI, it's basically like depositing a cheque) and away I went with $2,000 in my chequing account. As I was leaving, the 12-year-old teller said "If the bank calls you about the service today, tell them it was great cause you taught me something."
I await their call.
These were "heirloom" bonds that my dad had purchased in 1992 (!) and were transferred to me when he passed away. The Canadian govt officially notified me that they were kaput and no longer earning interest as of last November.
(Why did I wait 6 months to redeem them? I lost my safety deposit box keys...but that's a whole other post.)
Anyway, I accompanied the bank lady into the vault to retrieve my safety deposit box and my bonds and then went downstairs to redeem. We're talking a whole $2,000 here!
The bank teller (age 12) looked at them and said: "Wow, I'll have to ask how to do this because I've never seen one of these before! This is great. I'm learning something today." Great, kid, happy to help.
His supervisor showed him what to do (FYI, it's basically like depositing a cheque) and away I went with $2,000 in my chequing account. As I was leaving, the 12-year-old teller said "If the bank calls you about the service today, tell them it was great cause you taught me something."
I await their call.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Go ahead and thank me
I went to Florida and brought Spring back with me.
It wasn't easy carrying that sun in my suitcase, but I managed.
It wasn't easy carrying that sun in my suitcase, but I managed.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
In Work News...
On Friday I had a job interview, my first one in about 6 years. You know what? Interviews aren't fun. They are painful, agonizing, worrying, stress-inducing, anxiety-provoking...and the punch line, it wasn't even for a promotion, it was for a lateral move.
This is my best, in fact, my one and only hope to escape the department of The Stupidest Man Alive. Will it happen? I won't know for about a month.
If I were to get this job, my supervisor would be 13 years younger than I am. This would be the first time I have a boss who is younger. Fortunately, compared to my current numbskull of an idiot of a moron of a boss, this fellow is known to be exceptionally bright. So he could be 12, as far as I am concerned, as long as he's smart and knows what he's doing, I will respect that.
Cross your fingers and toes for me, and pray to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes because my sanity is on the line here, so I need to pull out the big guns, prayer-wise.
This is my best, in fact, my one and only hope to escape the department of The Stupidest Man Alive. Will it happen? I won't know for about a month.
If I were to get this job, my supervisor would be 13 years younger than I am. This would be the first time I have a boss who is younger. Fortunately, compared to my current numbskull of an idiot of a moron of a boss, this fellow is known to be exceptionally bright. So he could be 12, as far as I am concerned, as long as he's smart and knows what he's doing, I will respect that.
Cross your fingers and toes for me, and pray to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes because my sanity is on the line here, so I need to pull out the big guns, prayer-wise.
Sunday, February 08, 2015
Ouch
I saw an Irish play on the weekend. Here is what I learnt:
Sometimes "Joycean" just means painful.
Sometimes "Joycean" just means painful.
Tuesday, February 03, 2015
Harper Lee
That woman publishes a new novel every 50 years, the market be damned!
Watch out, Stephen King!
Watch out, Stephen King!
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Le Weekend Update
Sigh. I had such big blogging plans to report regularly on the antics of PQ Face over the coming months, but alas it appears that he may get tossed out of our social circle.
We were sitting at opposite ends of the table tonight, so I could not catch much of what was going on with him, but he was sitting directly across from an African woman, she is originally from Burkina Faso, and he was complaining that these kinds of group outings are filled with Anglos and immigrants.
If I had been closer I would've commented on money and the ethnic vote, but I couldn't. He should just go and hang out with Jacques Parizeau! By Jove.
Later, one of the other ladies said to me: That man seems very uncomfortable in his own skin. How true.
Anyway, our group organizer has decided she is done apologizing for this bozo. We were 13 at supper tonight and I counted 8 immigrants among us. PQ Face is severely outnumbered. This is the face of Montreal today, and if he doesn't like it, he can move to Lac St Jean or Riviere du Loup, but there are probably immigrants there too. So tough shit, buddy. But maybe out there he could at least escape the Anglo menace!
We were sitting at opposite ends of the table tonight, so I could not catch much of what was going on with him, but he was sitting directly across from an African woman, she is originally from Burkina Faso, and he was complaining that these kinds of group outings are filled with Anglos and immigrants.
If I had been closer I would've commented on money and the ethnic vote, but I couldn't. He should just go and hang out with Jacques Parizeau! By Jove.
Later, one of the other ladies said to me: That man seems very uncomfortable in his own skin. How true.
Anyway, our group organizer has decided she is done apologizing for this bozo. We were 13 at supper tonight and I counted 8 immigrants among us. PQ Face is severely outnumbered. This is the face of Montreal today, and if he doesn't like it, he can move to Lac St Jean or Riviere du Loup, but there are probably immigrants there too. So tough shit, buddy. But maybe out there he could at least escape the Anglo menace!
C'est Le Weekend
Another weekend means another get-together with the Francophone group. And yes indeed PQ Face is supposed to be there. Whilst trying to avoid actually talking to him, I will be listening in for any particularly egregious anti-Anglo statements he may make. Stay tuned...
P.S. It's effing cold! I'm sick of this.
P.S. It's effing cold! I'm sick of this.
Monday, January 26, 2015
En Français, SVP
Jeez, another week has gone by with no blogging. Lame.
Fortunately, I have an amusing little anecdote from the weekend. I had dinner on Friday night with a group of Francophone folks. Now, for anyone outside Quebec, allow me to provide a bit of cultural background. Quebec separatists have a "look". The men in particular have a "look", which is middle-aged, grey-haired, glasses and a grey beard, more often than not a goatee.
Friday was my first time meeting this group of Francophones for our soirée en français. We were already a few people around the table at the restaurant, when this fellow comes in and joins us: middle-aged, grey-haired, glasses and a grey beard. Within a couple of minutes of conversation, I had labeled him (in my head) Separatist Know-It-All.
Later, when I showed a picture of our dinner group to my sister, she called him "Classic PQ", so from that point on he has been known as "PQ Face". And was he ever a know-it-all.
Anyway, we were discussing how in most of our work places, we do end up speaking English. Even PQ Face said that with his colleagues he often had no choice but to speak English. In fact, he said, one night he even dreamed in English! Unable to resist I said "That must've been a nightmare!" Hey, it got a big laugh from two other people at our end of the table. It was one of my better ones. PQ Face smiled a bit to acknowledge that he got the joke, and said no, it was just a dream.
Our group is meeting again next weekend, but for now, it appears that PQ Face will not be gracing us with his presence. All I can say is Dieu, Merci.
Fortunately, I have an amusing little anecdote from the weekend. I had dinner on Friday night with a group of Francophone folks. Now, for anyone outside Quebec, allow me to provide a bit of cultural background. Quebec separatists have a "look". The men in particular have a "look", which is middle-aged, grey-haired, glasses and a grey beard, more often than not a goatee.
Friday was my first time meeting this group of Francophones for our soirée en français. We were already a few people around the table at the restaurant, when this fellow comes in and joins us: middle-aged, grey-haired, glasses and a grey beard. Within a couple of minutes of conversation, I had labeled him (in my head) Separatist Know-It-All.
Later, when I showed a picture of our dinner group to my sister, she called him "Classic PQ", so from that point on he has been known as "PQ Face". And was he ever a know-it-all.
Anyway, we were discussing how in most of our work places, we do end up speaking English. Even PQ Face said that with his colleagues he often had no choice but to speak English. In fact, he said, one night he even dreamed in English! Unable to resist I said "That must've been a nightmare!" Hey, it got a big laugh from two other people at our end of the table. It was one of my better ones. PQ Face smiled a bit to acknowledge that he got the joke, and said no, it was just a dream.
Our group is meeting again next weekend, but for now, it appears that PQ Face will not be gracing us with his presence. All I can say is Dieu, Merci.
Monday, January 19, 2015
Lundi Bleu
Hey everybody, it's Blue Monday. Apparently, the saddest day of the year. The 3rd Monday in January.
But it's sunny and not ridiculously cold (unlike recent days) so I'm not all that sad. I've lost 2 pounds on my New Year's Diet. That is worth 10 times that amount in non-sadness points. Or so I have decided.
But it's sunny and not ridiculously cold (unlike recent days) so I'm not all that sad. I've lost 2 pounds on my New Year's Diet. That is worth 10 times that amount in non-sadness points. Or so I have decided.
Saturday, January 17, 2015
Let Me Keep This Vague
I shouldn't be blogging about this, but some things are just too good for a gossipy blogger to resist.
So, vaguely, let me say that someone who works in the same place I do was nabbed by the Feds in California late last year. Let's call him The Nabbed. The Nabbed has been charged with five counts of nefarious activities, of the bribery and fraud variety, and is currently sitting in the Big House awaiting preliminary hearing (or whatever the Americans call this first stage of proceedings).
There has been no official word from the Administration on this, but ooooh boy, is it all over the building!
Anyway, this week I happened upon the affidavit which was submitted by the FBI agent in charge of the case. And, oooh boy, is it a good one. This is the first time I have ever read such type of document.
Let me just say this about a well-written affidavit. A well-written affidavit makes you think "Wow, we find the Defendant incredibly guilty!" I've been wanting to use this line since yesterday. And now I have. Believe me, it is a thorough and darn well-written affidavit. Oh, the details! It has it all: Eastern European bad guys, a Swiss bank account, money in brown envelopes.
Being the kind of person who likes to ridicule the criminal element, I have been joking all week about trying to picture The Nabbed in an orange jumpsuit, as he circles the prison yard looking for like-minded white-collar criminals with whom he can discuss fine wines and international jet setting whilst avoiding like hell any big guys named Bubba.
So, vaguely, let me say that someone who works in the same place I do was nabbed by the Feds in California late last year. Let's call him The Nabbed. The Nabbed has been charged with five counts of nefarious activities, of the bribery and fraud variety, and is currently sitting in the Big House awaiting preliminary hearing (or whatever the Americans call this first stage of proceedings).
There has been no official word from the Administration on this, but ooooh boy, is it all over the building!
Anyway, this week I happened upon the affidavit which was submitted by the FBI agent in charge of the case. And, oooh boy, is it a good one. This is the first time I have ever read such type of document.
Let me just say this about a well-written affidavit. A well-written affidavit makes you think "Wow, we find the Defendant incredibly guilty!" I've been wanting to use this line since yesterday. And now I have. Believe me, it is a thorough and darn well-written affidavit. Oh, the details! It has it all: Eastern European bad guys, a Swiss bank account, money in brown envelopes.
Being the kind of person who likes to ridicule the criminal element, I have been joking all week about trying to picture The Nabbed in an orange jumpsuit, as he circles the prison yard looking for like-minded white-collar criminals with whom he can discuss fine wines and international jet setting whilst avoiding like hell any big guys named Bubba.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Couple of Random Things because...
...I'm already slacking off and it's only mid-January. So unrelated items here.
1. In American politics, I loved this headline today "Ohio bartender contemplated poisoning John Boehner". Well, who hasn't? In all honesty, who hasn't at least once contemplated poisoning John Boehner? He's so poisonable!
2. In local labour news, pretty well every city bus has at least one big sticker, some buses are covered in stickers, protesting the lack of negotiations with the City (or is it the Province? I dunno) who basically want to cut the very generous pensions of public workers. These stickers want Open Negotiations which translates as Libre Negotiations. But the stickers all say
Libre Nego
and EVERY SINGLE DAY I misread it and do a double-take, because I think it says:
Libre Negro.
EVERY SINGLE TIME.
1. In American politics, I loved this headline today "Ohio bartender contemplated poisoning John Boehner". Well, who hasn't? In all honesty, who hasn't at least once contemplated poisoning John Boehner? He's so poisonable!
2. In local labour news, pretty well every city bus has at least one big sticker, some buses are covered in stickers, protesting the lack of negotiations with the City (or is it the Province? I dunno) who basically want to cut the very generous pensions of public workers. These stickers want Open Negotiations which translates as Libre Negotiations. But the stickers all say
Libre Nego
and EVERY SINGLE DAY I misread it and do a double-take, because I think it says:
Libre Negro.
EVERY SINGLE TIME.
Wednesday, January 07, 2015
The French
I, for one, am glad that numerous websites and news sites are reproducing the French comics. This will assist me in my tireless search to locate even one genuinely funny one. Just one. I don't ask a lot. Just one.
Sunday, January 04, 2015
Ice, ice, baby
That stuff that looks like snow on the railing? It ain't snow. It's solid ice.
I luvs me some January.
I luvs me some January.
Friday, January 02, 2015
A Mystery
Every night between 11 and 11:30, a car pulls up in front of the house next door and a driver delivers some food.
It is never pizza.
It is an unmarked car, doesn't have a chicken on top or anything. It could be Chalet, since they use unmarked cars (for security reasons, no doubt. So nobody carjacks their chicken, fries, bottom half of bun and delicious, drinkable s'ohs.)
Every night. Around the same time. Without fail. Intriguing.
It is never pizza.
It is an unmarked car, doesn't have a chicken on top or anything. It could be Chalet, since they use unmarked cars (for security reasons, no doubt. So nobody carjacks their chicken, fries, bottom half of bun and delicious, drinkable s'ohs.)
Every night. Around the same time. Without fail. Intriguing.
Thursday, January 01, 2015
Post Number Two: 2015
I haz an inkling that a number of posts for 2015 are going to involve my boss, or as he is henceforth to be known: The Stupidest Man Alive (TSMA).
Just to refresh the reader's memory, I work in an editorial department, thus my boss would be the Head of Editorial. If ever there was a Head that didn't know its ass from a hole in the ground, this would be that Head. Any story I relate about TSMA may be slightly disguised to protect the guilty but will in essence be an accurate depiction, without embellishment, of his utter, utter, inconceivable stupidity. I would not wish my on-line memoir to be accused of embellishment and be pursued by Oprah and her gang of thugs, therefore I will relay the facts, the true facts, to the best of my ability. Onward...
Yesterday, being the last day of 2014, we were short-staffed so only myself and TSMA were in the office. He comes to see me to consult on something, given, he says, my "expertise" on the subject matter. Right. (Background: TSMA has been the Ass of Editorial for 22 months now. 22 months!) Without going into detail this is the head-scratcher he presented to me: a text with a title and numbered paragraphs that were presented as such:
2.1 full title
2.1.1 first paragraph's text
2.1 second paragraph's text
2.1.3 third paragraph's text
The clever reader may already sense where this is headed.
The puzzler involved what did I think about this repetition of "2.1". Was it new a title? No, I replied. There's a "2" missing. It needs a "2". It should be 2.1.2. Anyone who knows me in person can pretty well conjure the tone of my voice as I relayed this expert opinion. (22 months he has been Head of Editorial. 22 fucking months!) Ah, said he, I thought so too but I wanted to get your confirmation on this. He turned and departed, his little brain at ease.
FIN (of my sanity)
Just to refresh the reader's memory, I work in an editorial department, thus my boss would be the Head of Editorial. If ever there was a Head that didn't know its ass from a hole in the ground, this would be that Head. Any story I relate about TSMA may be slightly disguised to protect the guilty but will in essence be an accurate depiction, without embellishment, of his utter, utter, inconceivable stupidity. I would not wish my on-line memoir to be accused of embellishment and be pursued by Oprah and her gang of thugs, therefore I will relay the facts, the true facts, to the best of my ability. Onward...
Yesterday, being the last day of 2014, we were short-staffed so only myself and TSMA were in the office. He comes to see me to consult on something, given, he says, my "expertise" on the subject matter. Right. (Background: TSMA has been the Ass of Editorial for 22 months now. 22 months!) Without going into detail this is the head-scratcher he presented to me: a text with a title and numbered paragraphs that were presented as such:
2.1 full title
2.1.1 first paragraph's text
2.1 second paragraph's text
2.1.3 third paragraph's text
The clever reader may already sense where this is headed.
The puzzler involved what did I think about this repetition of "2.1". Was it new a title? No, I replied. There's a "2" missing. It needs a "2". It should be 2.1.2. Anyone who knows me in person can pretty well conjure the tone of my voice as I relayed this expert opinion. (22 months he has been Head of Editorial. 22 fucking months!) Ah, said he, I thought so too but I wanted to get your confirmation on this. He turned and departed, his little brain at ease.
FIN (of my sanity)
Happy New Year 2015
Whoo hoo! I'm posting something. I'm sticking with that New Year's Resolution for at least one day!
I'll be tinkering with a new look, etc., over the next couple of days. But rest assured, the look might be different, but the content will be the same old crap!
I'll be tinkering with a new look, etc., over the next couple of days. But rest assured, the look might be different, but the content will be the same old crap!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)