Hot Dog! It's Canada Day

Happy Canada Day to one and all.

Mark Carney begins his first day on the job as the Governor of the Bank of England. What a mistake. He has already given up one day off!  I miss him. Come back to Canada, Mark, and run for the Liberals, and win and become Prime Minister and make everything okay again. Please.

In other Canada Day news. Anyone who has met Smoothie, or in Mushrooms' case, talked to him on the phone, may have detected a scent of Ignatius J. Reilly about him. I often find him very Ignatius like. In a case of life imitating art, today Smoothie is manning a Hot Dog stand down in the Old Port. And he is so excited about the experience. Ever since they announced that the City of Montreal will be permitting street vendors, he has been talking about that as a dream job. Serving people, talking all day long to strangers. Yep, that would be his dream job. Let us hope that today opens the door to a long career of hot dog vending.

Tony Soprano

I don't know what to say, except he was younger than us.  He probably had a very unhealthy lifestyle. But it still seems so wrong and unfair to drop dead at 51.

Smoking on Mad Men

Betty has always been completely alien to me as a mother. But last night for the first time in 6 seasons, Betty did something my own mother once did. She offered her teen-aged daughter a cigarette, saying she would rather have her smoking in front of her than behind her back.

Sally accepted the smoke; I did not.

Now I wonder if my mother would have been happy to have someone to smoke with. Never thought of it that way before...  my mom, my smoking buddy? Did my sister and I both let our mother down by never taking up smoking?  My mom smoked for only a couple more years after that, so maybe she gave it up because she didn't have a daughter to smoke with.

We are an embarrassment

Last year, our dodo of a mayor resigned. So we got an Interim mayor. This morning the Interim mayor was arrested.

Is there a brown paper bag big enough to cover the whole island?

The Man of My Dreams

Rupert Murdoch has filed for divorce from his 44-year-old wifey.

Finally. My chance to get my paws on that 82-year-old BILLIONAIRE hunk.

Mad Men Question

How many years of therapy is Sally Draper going to need?
Correction: How many decades of therapy...?

I'm still alive

I have not ceased to exist.  Work is super busy. And this is the suckiest Spring we have had in years. Bleh!!

In CPN News

Spying over the fence for the past couple days, I have noted that the CPN is not going to work and spends the whole day (outdoors, of course) in his pyjamas and a robe. While this type of behaviour could indicate that he has entered the Hefner Zone, I do not believe this to be the case.

Yesterday, while CPN Wife and CPN Daughter ate a normal supper, CPN himself dined on toast and soup. So clearly, he has recently undergone surgery of some kind.

In the immortal words of Basil Fawlty:  Let's hope it's nothing trivial.

Friday Update

1. Happy 72nd Birthday to Bob.

2. My employer will not be moving to the Middle East. Official announcement came this morning from our dear friend, the Minister Buffoon of Foreign Affairs of Canada.

3. Third item, Happy High School Graduation to Miss Mushrooms Jr.  All growed up.

Battle of the Network Starz

Have you ever met anyone who has been on a reality show? Up until last night, I would have had to answer No to this question.

But last night my sister's contractor, the guy who re-did her kitchen and bathroom, was a contestant on a show on Discovery where people race their old jalopy bazoos around an obstacle course. The winner gets a refinishing job on his bazoo while the losers get their cars impaled on a big thing called the "Spike of Shame" (which has nothing to do with Sean Connery's wang, which I still have not seen a full frontal picture of...but I digress).  I met this contractor last summer and if ever there was a contractor who deserved his own reality show, it is him. He is a "character" of epic proportions. Mike Holmes is a dullard compared to this fellow. No wonder his wife sent his name in to audition for TV. Some people were born to be on TV. He didn't win, though, and his beloved van was impaled on the Spike of Shame.

This is the second person my sister knows to appear on a reality show in the past year. Earlier, the daughter of a colleague was in a episode of a program where young women who have poor money sense (and generally no common sense) get read the riot act and put on a budget by the loud-mouthed Gail V.O., she of the undeterminable accent. (Actually, it's Jamaican, but you never expect to hear a Jamaican accent from a white person, do you? Admit it, you don't.) That young woman got $5000 for her public humiliation. Is that a fair bargain? I dunno. But in my mind, anyone who belongs to an on-line shoe club and gets new shoes mailed to her on a regular basis, deserves public humiliation.

My sister's new career: Hanger on to the D listers.

In Hockey News

It is extremely rare that, alone in my living room, I shout Yessss during a sports event.  But when Boston scored that 4th goal last night, I was, like, Yessss Yessss.  If cats could manage a hi-five, I would've had them all doing it.

Sweet.

Truth is, I don't hate the Leafs at all. I have no problem with any of the players, and I think Reimer is very, very good. I just want to see Cherry and all those morons at the CBC be bitterly disappointed. Ah! That was so good.

Astronaut Yawn

Am I the only person totally bored by Chris Hadfield and all his tweeting and guitar playing from space?  I'll be glad when he lands back on earth and we don't have to see him on the news anymore.

I'm a nerd, but I'm not a science nerd. Actually, I am science idiot. I know nothing. And I'm good with that.

Neighbourhood watch

Despite myself, I keep looking for updates on that awful Cleveland kidnapping story. You just don't know what your neighbour could be up to. Well, actually in my case,  I do, because I can't avoid noting everything my crazy CPNs are doing since they do everything outside. It's Spring, bring out the ironing board!

But I digress.

I love the guy that helped rescue the women. I want him as my neighbour, eating his McDonald's. He is cool. He had dramatic flare, knows how to tell a story. He can sit on my porch and listen to salsa music all he wants. I would feel very safe.

Endless Summer

We can all relax because Summer has truly arrived. The Polish ironing board is now being used outside.

The End of an Era

The big day has finally arrived.
The day that Knuckles G. bids good-bye, adieu, auf wiedersehen, sayonara, to the land of cheese and peanut butter.
Will he be back in 2 weeks, 3, 2 months?
Stay tuned.
For let us never forget the words of Michael Corleone:  "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."
Happy 14th months vacation!!

In medical news

Yesterday, I visited by GP for my annual check-up, which I hadn't had in two years. ha ha.

As he was putting the cuff on my arm to check my blood pressure, he said "So are you guys moving to the Middle East? How does the voting work? Don't the Americans want you to stay?" I started answering but I knew I was getting agitated, so I said asked him why did you ask me about this when you are taking my blood pressure? I can feel my blood pressure going up!  He laughed and said I was right, it was stupid of him to raise the issue while taking my BP.

My BP turned out to be higher than usual, but he said he would take the circumstances into consideration. It's still in the normal range, Middle East or no Middle East.

NaPoMo comes to a close

How quickly the month of April has flown.

I don't have any poem to end the month, unfortunately. But I do have some news.

Guess who is going to be a daddy?  FANCY FEAST!

I learned this yesterday, and it has taken me 24 hours to recover from the news. The baby is due in November, and I estimate that by December he/she will already be more mature than Dad.

Work News

All the excitement happens in my absence.  Last week while I was away, a serious offer was put forward by a country in the Middle East to move our offices over there.

Call me Ms. Knuckles because I may be starting to talk about a package in the next few months.

There has to be a vote, and if it passes, the move would occur in 2016 only. Fortunately for moi, I will be 55 and eligible for early retirement in 2016, albeit on a very reduced pension. But who gives a shit? I'm not moving to the desert! The cats would be uncomfortable!

The new host country would be one of those incredibly wealthy oil states and their offer is very tempting for the organization. (Translation: $$$$$$$$$$$$ for everybody at the top.) But for peons like me, no real advantages. And you have to live in the freakin' desert. It's 50 C for six months of the year. And I don't like A/C!

Home again

I am back and I have brought the summer with me.
You're welcome.

Only 3 days left in NaPoMo.

This is a long countdown

All packed and ready to go.
If I can get technology on my side
I shall blog from the sunny south.
If not, no.
Oh well.
Back next Friday...

Countdown

Departure is tomorrow, but I am already
on vay cay
today.
Hooray.

Today's Poll

Justin Trudeau:

a) able politician; or
b) pretty boy lunkhead (with fabulous hair)?

Boston

Who attacks a marathon? Fat loser terrorists!!  "We're going to get you skinnies!"

(Let me take this opportunity to say I had nothing to do with it.)

Goldfinger

The markets are crashing today because everyone who has gold (i.e. not me) decided to sell it.

Somebody explain the "market" to me again. Gold has for all of human history been great. Wonderful. Desirable. Humans love, want, hoard, etc. gold. But not today.

Today, gold is that thing that you accidentally put your hand in. "OOOH, yuck, icky, icky gold. Get it off, get it off."

Hell, I'll take your gold. Go ahead, make my hands dirty. I can handle it.

5 days to go

Counting down to my vacation.
Looking forward to Friday.
There will be sun.
There will be guns.
In the good ole USA.

Another Celeb Obit

Jonathan Winters died. He was 87.

All together now: He was still alive???

I loved watching him when I was a kid. I thought he was so funny.

Buzzzzzzz

The woman who designed the Doomsday Clock has died. She was 96.

There's a "time's up" joke in there somewhere.

I guess we should all be grateful that her clock outlived her.

An Organization for your Organ

Group I did not know existed before yesterday: The Canadian Foreskin Awareness Project.

Thank you, Oprah. Without you, the CFAP would not be on every news site in Canada this week.  And the jokes are endless.  I could say the jokes just keep on coming, but that might be misinterpreted.

Spring has Sprung

This post will not rhyme.
The forecast is for 15 to 20 cm of snow on Friday.
This had better be one of those Weather Network scare tactics that never materializes.
I am depressed.
On the bright side, 9 days until departure for Florida!!

North and South

The situation on the Korean Peninsula is inching close to a thermonuclear war due to the evermore undisguised hostile actions of the United States and the South Korean puppet warmongers and their moves for a war against the North, said a statement by the North Korean Asia-Pacific Peace Committee. (CBC)

Lil Kim was a nut job, missing a screw.
When he died, all his countrymen wept on cue.

If they didn't weep and wail.
They'd be dead or tossed in jail.

Kim Jr is now in place of his dad.
And things are looking mucho bad.

He wants to go nuclear.
How very pec-u-liar. (bis)

He knows how to keep himself in the news
By filling his late daddy's platform shoes.

What a Day! Obit Threesome!

The Celebrity Death News just keeps on coming!

Next up (or down):  The Man They Call Reveen is now the man we can call...deceased.

It is worth a look at his website, just for a glance at his great, great hair. He lived and died in Vegas. What more can I say?

www.reveen.com

Adios Annette

One of my many, many regrets in life is that when I die my obituary in the New York Times will not refer to me as "Beloved Mouseketeer".

Now...take it away, Knuckles:

"Today I shed a little tear
Because Annette's no longer here.
So, let's all give a great big cheer
For this amazing Mouseketeer".

Maggie's Farm

Margaret Thatcher bought the farm
In her time, she did much harm.

April 8 will be the date
For all lefties to celebrate.

Nine years ago we lost Reagan, her crony
So why are we still stuck with Mulroney?

Kill! Kill!

I know I may come across as a right-wing nut job, but I don't care: What is wrong with this country when killing your kids gets you a slap on the wrist and little else??? This is infuriating. I thought it was just Quebec's legal system that is nuts, but now I see that Alberta is just as crazy.

Is there any other country in the Western World that thinks, "oh, you killed your children. That's terrible. Go to a hospital for a year or two, and then you are free to go." Enough with this shit.

Hmm. I wonder if I could adopt my Polish neighbour? heh heh heh.

Screw the West Wind

O wind, I hate your guts.
You hurt my ears
Freeze my face
And make my eyes water.

This does not rhyme.
I do not care.
I want the wind to go away.
Be gone with you, O wind.

Shelley was wrong.
You are nothing to write home about.

Back to work ode

Be it NaPoMo this day

We must still earn our daily pay

But 4 days off at home

Makes me at the office groan

I am staring at my screen

Writing rhymes, but not obscene

I would be at my best

If I had 4 more days to rest

And my grim face would turn to chuckles

Had I a package just like Knuckles.

Welcome to NaPoMo, our Rite of Spring

Oddly enough, I am not starting the month with a poem, but with a Blast from the Past.

Yesterday, I got a call from the One and Only...Kumar.  Has long has it been, eh? I have no idea. Anyway, he was in town with some cousins, staying with his uncle and aunt. Turns out his aunt has developed hoarding tendencies...but that is a whole other story for another time, I suppose.

So, what was new over the past year and a half or so?
Well, he got married.
And then he got divorced.
These people...from these countries...I swear.

He went back for a visit to the A**hole of the World country of his birth, with his parents. While there he agreed to marry a local woman. And he did. Then he came back to Toronto* and started the paperwork for her sponsorship, visa, etc. Then her family started asking him and his parents for a lot of financial compensation. After all, he's a "rich Canadian". He said, in typical Kumar-ese, "what is this shit and blah, blah, blah?" So they flew back to the A**hole of the World, filed divorce papers, paid off her family with some "alimony" and came home.

I said: "I can't believe you didn't tell me you got married!"
K: "But now I'm divorced."
Me: "You should have let me know."
K: "I'm divorced for 5 months now!"
Me: [head shake] [eye roll]

*I said "So what do you think of your Mayor these days?" (He was initially a big fan of Mayor Ford and his family values.)  Kumar: "He is a drunkard and should be ashamed of himself".

Drunkard is a great word.

Happy Easter to All

Yes, it is Easter Sunday, and more importantly, it is

The Eve of NaPoMo

Tis the eve of NaPoMo
and all thru the house
not a cat is stirring
since we don't have a mouse.

The dictionary is open,
and waiting for us
to consult it and our
Roget's Thesaurus.

This poem is clean.
It is G-rated
But soon NaPoMo will
be celebrated.

And then all the poems
the short and the long
Will be filled with such words
as doodle, wienie and dong.

Hockey Night in Montreal West

Hooray for the team of Anonymous Ro.
They won the Big Game with 4 seconds to go.

The night was not so ordinary.
I thought his dad would have a coronary.

But the star of the night, I gotta tell ya
Was the Muslim mom with her vuvuzela.

The Countdown Commenceth

One week to go
Until NaPoMo.

It's like pulling teeth

Coaxing Spring to arrive...hurry up!

 

Pre-NaPoMo Celebrity-Death Combo

A poem from Knuckles, in anticipation of NaPoMo, just 10 days away, and to mark the death of Harry Reems.

"Dead is porn star Harry Reems,
at the age of 65.
His long shlong gone forever more,
but the memory stays alive.
The man literally was a fucker,
and did it oh so fine.
And had he toughed it just four more years,
he would've died at 69."

A first!

On this first day of Spring (HA HA HA!) I got on the bus, which was crowded and quite slow due to the massive snowbanks everywhere. I got a seat at the back of the bus.

There was a guy, middle-aged, white, balding, eating a banana. Eating a banana like he is in his own kitchen and not on public transit. Then he took out a breakfast bar and ate that. Then he took out a second breakfast bar and ate that.

At this point, the bus was quite crowded, with guys standing, so my view of Mr. Breakfast was partially blocked. Thank god for that because suddenly I hear a buzzing noise, a quiet but distinct buzz. Yes, he had pulled out his electric razor and was shaving on the bus. A young girl sitting next to him looked over and then bured her face in her book (Black Boy by Richard Wright, I noted).  Two Asian women sitting up from him turned around and looked. He was oblivious. A mother and daughter sitting across looked appalled but then started laughing to each other.

I noticed he wore a wedding band. Imagine being married to this guy. Being married to the guy who shaves on the city bus. There's only one valid reason for shaving in public: you are homeless. This guy clearly was not homeless, just a clueless boor.

New Pope

EVERYBODY TANGO!!

R U Ready to Conclaaaaaaaaave?

I crave the 'clave.

Let's get this party started!

Pope Me, Baby!

The Papal Conclave starts on March 12. This leads to one burning question: What are the appropriate snacks to serve at a Conclave Party?

Unrelated to anything Papal: At lunch time I saw a man literally walk into a tree. On University. He was walking with his head turned to the street watching traffic for some unknown reason and then BONK into a narrow tree. He stopped, rubbed his nose, adjusted his glasses and kept walking. It was almost like this wasn't the first time this had happened to him...  A man walking alone ahead of me turned around, smiling, to see if I had seen it too, but I was too surprised to smile. My brain was still processing the fact that The Benny Hill Show is real, not fiction.

Naughty, naughty

Smoothie and his girlfriend (of 8 months) have planned their first weekend getaway, to the Nation's Capital, in 2 weeks. Both Smoothie and gf still live at home (both are 27). When she told her father they were going away for a weekend, her father asked if they would have separate beds and then he said "there better not be any hanky-panky". 

Perhaps he is not aware that there has been excessive hanky pankying going on for the past 8 months.

Hanky panky. It's the word of the day. I had not heard that expression in years, and I suspect Smoothie had never heard it at all before yesterday.

My baby does the hanky panky. Now that song is in my head.

In other news: Our New Boss arrives today. Will he be a non-entity? or will reports of his antics make him a regular item of interest on the blog. If so, he will need a nickname. Stay tuned...

Happy Birthday to Me

Everyone should have the day off because it is MY birthday. But even I am at work. Sob!

When I turned 49, I declared that I was on a "Fit for 50" plan. Well, given the outstanding success of that initiative over the past 3 years, I now declare that starting today I am on a "Fit for 53" campaign. Wish me luck.

B-Day Wishes, Day 2

Happy Birthday to Mrs. Anon.  If I am not mistaken, you are a mere 45 today. Ha! Youth!

I hope all your boys are treating you well on this grand day.

B-Day Wishes, Day 1

This is a double birthday week on the blog. First up...

Happy Birthday to Ms Mushrooms. Are you recovering from the Indian food feast you were set to enjoy last night? I hope Mr Mushrooms and the young Mushrooms are being good to you today.

Enjoy it all. We are not getting any younger!

Astral Ball of Confusion

I thought today was the day the Earth would be attacked by a giant asteroid. But it turned out that today is the day when the Earth was attacked by a giant meteor. 

I am confused. From the Guardian's website:

 ...the Russian deputy prime minister said neither Moscow nor Washington had the power to shoot such objects down as they approached. "At the moment, neither we nor the Americans have such technologies" to shoot down meteors or asteroids, he said, according to the Interfax news agency.

Isn't this what we have Superheroes for? Where are Superman, Batman, Iron Man, The Hulk?  Whoever? You guys have totally disappointed me.

V Day

Happy Valentine's Day to one and all.

Work has been so busy. No time to blog, barely any time to email. Moi? No time to blog or email? How is this possible?

Vacating the Vatican

So the Pope threw in the Papal Towel today.  I betcha didn't know there even was a Papal Towel. (I made it up.)  He said, in Latin, I'm outta here. I'm going to Disney World, etc.

Let this be a lesson to every old worker everywhere who is hanging on to his/her job, thinking that they can't possibly retire because "what will the place do without me? I am the glue that holds this place together".  Retire. Leave. Now. Vamoose with ya.

If the Pope can call it quits, so can you. The world will not end.  Let the Papal Succession stakes begin!  If ever there was an event that called for a NaPoMo poem this is it. Sadly, we are forced to do without. Amen.

It's that time of year again...again!

Happy Birthday to Mr. Anon.  52 years young today.

I don't know what else to add. I hate getting older! wah!

What Can I Say?

Jim Nabors got married. To another man.

My first instinct was to write "Golly" or "Surprise, surprise, surprise" but since that appears to have been the first instinct of everyone else on the Internet, I won't.

I was not actually sure if Jim Nabors was still alive or not, so maybe I can say surprise, surprise, surprise about that.  Congratulations to the happy couple.

My Kingdom for a Snorkel

Today I got on the bus on University and LaGauchetiere at 4:50, as usual. The bus went up University to Rene-Levesque where more people got on, as usual. We continued up University, as usual. When we got to St. Catherine we were suddenly in the middle of AN IRWIN ALLEN PRODUCTION.

Water. Everywhere. The bus stuck on ice in the middle of University. Spinning tires. Bus fishtailing. Not advancing. Freezing water all around the bus. We made it to the corner of deMaisonneuve but couldn't make the turn because there was too much ice. All the passengers went to the back of the bus to make some weight at the back. After about 20 attempts we got around the corner. We all clapped, foolishly thinking our ordeal was over....

...but it wasn't.  We got stuck again at deMais and Metcalfe. Spinning tires, flood waters all around.  I was afraid I would have to swim like Shelly. Firemen had to guide the bus in reverse back to McGill College so we could turn. It was surreal.

I got home in just over 2 hours. I wondered if Mr. Anon was trapped in his office.

Please release me, let me go (Part XXXII)

Guess who got offered an extension yesterday? 

Mark Carney? No.
Prince Harry? No.
Knuckles Girlyskirt? YES.

He's never going to get to enjoy that 14-month package, is he? Mr. KG gets to savour his 3 weeks of Mexican chips and then return to the land of peanut butter and cheese until the end of March.  Fortunately for us, that leaves him available in April to contribute to NaPoMo on a daily basis. Poetry Rules!

The 2013 birthday parade begins

Happy 52nd B-day to Mr. Mushrooms. Who ignores his birthday. Though I hear his better half is going to bake him a cake, so there is some acknowledgement of the grand day.

How did we get to be 52? When did this happen?

(Aside: It's friggin' cold everywhere today. I'm trying not to dwell on it. )

The Return of the Romantic Male Box

It being a New Year, I have returned to the scene of nefarious activities, i.e. Internet dating.

Last week, I came in contact with a guy who is a bit wacky but seems fun. Chatting on the phone before meeting in person, he said he noted that I had nice teeth which meant I am not a smoker. I confirmed that I am indeed not a smoker, and thought okaaay.  We met on Saturday and one of the first things he asked was "Are your teeth real?"  I paused, laughed and said "Yes, are yours?" He said yes, which is obvious because one has a big chip in it.  Other than this teeth fetish, he seems "normal".  In fact, on first meeting, before the teeth thing, he said to me "Hey, you are normal!" That is the world of the Internet for ya, the pleasant surprise that the person you are meeting is in fact normal and not a raving loon.

Now if I can figure out what the teeth thing is about... If he hangs around I will need a nickname for him, based on his real name, which in Clash fan "code" indicates he "can't fail".

Obit News

Dear Abby died.

All together now "I can't believe she was still alive"  or "Didn't she die 30 years ago?"  Take your pick.

Yesterday, Conrad Bain died and I resisted writing: Whatchu talkin' 'bout? (OK, now I just gave in.)

Say What?

The Internet is abuzz about Jodie Foster's Golden Globes speech.  I say What?  I couldn't follow what she was babbling about. She was incoherent. Maybe DeNiro helped her write her speech, as it reminded me of a number of weird speeches he has made over the years.

More likely, she is just hanging around with Crazy Eyes Gibson too much.  And, ok I know it is not their fault, but her kids are really, really creepy looking.

In other GG news, I was happy to see Argo win. I thoroughly enjoyed that movie.

And a final note. Here is my advice to any producer of an awards show. Use Robert Downey Jr. for EVERYTHING. Make him host, make him give out every award, make him do it all. Nobody will be bored.

In TOTALLY unrelated news. This item caught my eye yesterday. From the CBC:

A 55-year-old man is dead after his snowmobile passed under a moose. The man suffered critical head injuries after his snowmobile passed under the large animal while it ran across the path.
The snowmobile was barely damaged in the incident. The moose ran off and investigators have not been able to locate it.

Under a moose?

How's it going, Down Under?

There was a lot on the news last night about the wildfires in Australia, and the extreme heat.

Susie, if you are reading, can you let us know how things are in Melbourne? Hope you are ok.

Ice storm

As we are "celebrating" the 15th anniversary of the ice storm this month, I have been trying to remember some of the things that happened.

1. Chalet BBQ: the source of hot meals!
2. Knuckles' emergency buckets of water.
3. The Bedards!

I'm sure other things will come to me.

Happy New Year!

I think there is something seriously wrong with a person whose first thought, on waking on new year's morning, is "when are my municipal taxes due? February 1 or March 1?" And I'm not talking about Knuckles here, although I'm certain he too could awaken to such a thought.

Answer is: March 1. Phew!

Celeb Death Query

Is it just me, or does it seem like Whitney Houston has been dead for way more than a year? I keep seeing her picture in the "those we have lost" stories, and I think, really? Was that only in the past year? Feels like she's been dead for a lot longer than that.  We can't get away from her.

Too much Whitney, not enough Davy Jones!
Too much Whitney, not enough Sherman Hemsley!
Not enough Adam Yauch!
Not enough Phyllis Diller!

Snow Part Deux

For the benefit of our member(s) in the Southern hemisphere. Here are a couple of pics of my street.

Snow

I don't have much to say about the Knuckles Day Storm of the Century. I was on the train coming home from the Holy City. Normally that is a 5-hour train ride, but it was 8 hours this time. Not fun The worst part was the final 90 minutes when we sat at Wellington, within sight of CN Station, stuck because a switching signal wasn't working. It was like seeing the promised land, but thinking we would never get there.

But my wee troubles were nothing compared to FF's ordeal in getting home from work. I shall quote his email:
I went to work. The day ended early, at 3 PM instead of 5 PM. The train never showed up, I ended up taking a different train (after 1 hour of waiting in the freezing cold wind and getting mild frost burn) that let me off at Parc, where I took the metro to Vendome and found that the buses all broke down in random positions on the road. I had to walk 3 KM through big mountains of snow. By the time I got home, I had frost burn on my hands and legs, and was wet up to my knees. I told them I didn't want to repeat that on Friday, they gave me the day off - unpaid.

Merry Christmas to All

Merry Christmas, Happy Festivus, etc, etc.

Despite it being Festivus I will not air any grievances, nor perform feats of strength today. I must rest up for Christmas eating starting tomorrow night.

Happy news today. My niece and her bf stopped in and announced that they got engaged last night. They are very happy. The wedding is at least two years away, so I don't have to worry about finding clothes that fit just yet... bring on the Christmas eats.

Happy Holidays to everyone!

And a P.S. Speaking of my niece, she shares a birthday with Mr. Knuckles. And since Mr. K's birthday often seems to get ignored in the hub-bub aftermath of Christmas, I take this early opportunity to wish Happy B-Day to him.  My niece turns 27, and Knuckles turns...slightly older than 27.

Hmmm....now I want pancakes

I'm certain you are as relieved as I am to learn that the gang of thieves who stole $30 million worth of maple syrup have been arrested.  We can all sleep well tonight. After we have pancakes.

Only 2/3 of the stolen syrup has been recovered, which means there's $10 million in contraband still hidden out there.  I hope we don't become a syrupy Mexico.  Instead of Santo defending us, we will have Bonhomme.

The most interesting part of this story to me was the fact that Quebec holds strategic reserves of maple syrup. Stategic reserves.  That's not black gold, it's golden gold. mmm.

C'est l'hiver

Yesterday, Environment Canada informed us all that "most of Canada" would not have a white Christmas this year.

Look at the window, dude. 

grrr.

Double-breasted shearling coat

I don't usually comment on the latest viral sensations, but that IKEA monkey is so cute in his little coat.  I like that people have called him "a smart monkey"  and "a dapper monkey". 

I'm glad the authorities appear to have placed him in a sanctuary and didn't give him back to the dumbass humans who decided they wanted a monkey as a pet.  A monkey is not a pet, I don't care how dapper he is in his little shearling coat.

Word of the day is "dapper".

A Bullet in the Head

Walking up to the mall this aft, I met my neighbour, Georgette, who is in her 70s and has an opinion, an authoritative opinion, on everything.

She was complaining that the new govt has increased the taxes on wine. I agreed.

Then she said: "That Madame Marois. She's going to get a bullet."
"Really?" I said.
"Oh yes. The mafia....when they shoot...they don't miss."
"You think so?"
"Oh yes, Mark my words."

Then I thought, who are you? Joe Pesci? but I didn't say anything else.

Mark my words.

Tracking

Am I the only person who becomes obsessed with tracking a package when I order something on-line?

I bought some stuff last week that is being shipped from British Columbia. The store sent me a link to track my stuff.  On the 4th, I saw that it was scanned and departed Richmond, BC. On the 5th and yesterday, I checked in the morning and in the evening, and nothing. Of course, I realize if it is coming from BC it needs a day or so to get GET HERE, but I still wanted the tracker to show me some progress.  Something like "flying over the (freezing) Praries", but no. Nothing.

But this morning, I see that my package arrived in Lachine and has been scanned, so it should be delivered today or Monday.  Yay. It's not even an Christmas present, but there is something so exciting about knowing my purchase is now close by.

I need more of a life.

This is what happens when I have no news from Fancy Feast for over a week.

Bond?

Ok, you James Bond experts, a question for you.

I saw Skyfall last week and thought that it was a lot of fun. Unbelievable, ridiculous, over the top, yes. But it was a great way to spend 2 hours plus.

But someone mentioned something that has been bugging me for 2 days now. If all agents use aliases, then why does the gravestone of Bond's parents say "Bond"? Is this explained anywhere in a previous movie or in a book? Is Bond the only MI6 agent who uses his real name? It seems especially clumsy since M makes a point of saying of what Javier Bardem's real name is, and what his agent name was. (No, she does not say his real name is Javier Bardem.) But then it appears that Bond is Bond's real name.

Maybe Bond's real first name is Raoul, and only James is an alias? I dunno.

Spoiler alert:  RAFE! I'm so glad he is the new M. Although he is not aging well. He'll be 50 this month and he looks it. This is the problem with being overly beautiful in one's youth. There's nowhere to go but down.  As all of us know. ha ha.

This Week in Old and Bitter

Last night I went out for fish and chips at this British style place on Cote des Neiges. It was delicious. I also had a half pint of beer, and finished off the meal with an ice cream cone with a chocolate flake. Well all that fat was not good for my aging stomach. As someone who never suffers from reflux, may I say that reflux is AWFUL. I was awake at 3, hating life.

So I stayed home today. Taking my final "sick day" of the year. They won't miss me and my (non)work.

What did I do yesterday at the office? Glad you asked. I spent a good part of the morning on the website of our pension fund. They have a benefits calculator. And I plugged in every year from 2013 to 2023. 2023 should be my official retirement date. Of course, retiring in 2023 is a joke, because I assume by then our HQ will be located in Beijing, and I won't be going there. We've started constructing a "sub office" but who is kidding who? They are moving to China in the next decade. I'm betting on it.

Anyway, so I now have a nice list of what I would be earning if I took retirement or QUIT at any point in the next 10 years. What does this serve? Nothing. But it was fun to plug in the numbers.

Today in RIP Dead Career News

They announced the name of the new head of our department, and to nobody's surprise, it isn't me. Ho hum.
On the positive side, neither is it my incompetent colleague.
It is some guy from Europe. It will take him 3 months to move here, so we will continue to have no boss until the middle of February. We have been without an official boss since June.
With no boss, one would think I would be doing a lot more blogging.  I've been doing nothing for so long, I can't remember what it is like to put in a full day's work.
My biggest fear was that Ms. Incompetent would get promoted and become Ms. Incompetent Drill Sargeant Boss, but that didn't happen, so it is a big relief.
I'll just continue to (non)toil away here in my (non)career.

Celebrity Death News

Larry Hagman died. Now the I Dream of Jeannie theme music is stuck in my head.

I hope that having shared this, the I Dream of Jeannie theme is now stuck in your head, too. All day.

Ta-ta, ta-ta-ta-ta-ta.

2 more months! 2 more months!

Take a moment and imagine, if you will, a tasty, unopened bag of Doritos. Cool Ranch, if that is your preference (as it is mine) or Nacho Cheese or whatever your favourite flavour may be.

Now imagine that unopened bag of tasty morsels is at your fingertips, just ready for you to rip it open and indulge.  But...your fingers are broken. Both your hands are in plaster casts.  All you can do is stare longingly at the unopened Doritos bag. You wish you had sufficient telepathic power to open the bag using your mind alone. But alas you cannot.

Now. For the bag of Doritos, substitute a 14-month full-pay severance package. And for your plaster cast hands, substitute JAW Fan trying to wrap up his job.

As Al Pacino might put it, every time he gets close, they pull him back in.

Instead of 30 November, it now appears that JAW's last day at the office will 31 January 2013.

Those Doritos were so close he could almost taste them. But they shall remain achingly on the shelf for two more months.

Last day of work: 31 January. Plane to Mexico: 1 February. That's barely enough time to pack his Speedo.

I'm only 9 years late, old man

In 2009, sis, bro-in-law and I went on vacation to Maine.  We took a winding drive back home and went through New Hampshire.  When we were kids we vacationed in New Hampshire and I remember looking up at the mountains to see the Old Man of the Mountain, a rock formation that looked like the profile of an old man. It was a well known symbol of New Hampshire.

So, in 2009, we are driving in NH and I am looking for the Old Man of the Mountain. We drive and drive and I say to my sister, that's really weird, I thought we couldn't miss it.

Cut to this morning, in 2012, and while reading a totally unrelated story, I learn that the Old Man of the Mountain collapsed back in 2003. Nine years ago. Why did I never hear about this? No wonder I couldn't find it. Somebody should've told me!

Local News

Applebaum has been sworn in as Montreal's interim mayor, making history as the city's first elected Jewish mayor and the first anglophone mayor to lead the city in a century. (CBC)

In other news:  Parizeau's Head Explodes.

The Morning After the Night Before

The Grand Bouffe went off without a hitch. This is the first time ever that FF has come through and not let me down. Amazing.

Most of the dishes were courtesy of the girlfriend and they were all successful, so at the end of the evening, I said to FF: "So what do I need you for?"  He said "I know".

Twice during the day, I got panicked calls from him, asking if I could go to IGA and pick up this and that because they were running late and forgot stuff. This stressed me out, but I did it. Then at 5:20 he calls and says "uh, I have to cancel".  Long pause on my end.  "Just kidding!" he says. "We're almost ready to go". He is the type of person who should NEVER make a "I have to cancel" joke because it's too likely to be true.

Anyway, my guests seemed to be impressed. We were stuffed to the gills. One person brought home two doggy bags, and I have tons of leftovers.  I didn't get the bill for the food yet. That's going to hurt because I know that, in true FF form, he overspent like crazy. But I was expecting that.

Now I can relax.  And eat leftovers. Until I am unwell.

Toodles to the Twinkies

A big business story today is that Hostess is filing for bankruptcy, going out of business and putting over 18,000 people out of work.  This is in the US, apparently, it will not affect the Canadian biz.

Despite my acknowledged love of fatty foods that are bad for me, I have to say I have never been a fan of this type of snack. I'm not a cake person. I'm sure someone will correct me if I am wrong, but I don't think Hostess existed here when we were kids.  Seems to me that when I saw t.v. commercials for Hostess Twinkies they were some exotic foreign American delicacy that was unavailable at home. We had Vachon, and that was enough.  I didn't eat tons of Half Moons or Jos. Louis as a kid, though I admit I had an flaky apple turnover in my lunch pail on a regular basis.

On the other hand, if Frito Lay announced that it was going out of business, this blog would be wreathed in black, and I would be on long-term distress leave from work. Despair.

A Modest Update

In an email sent at 9:50 p.m Tuesday, FF assured me that he and the GF will be at my place at 4:00 p.m. on Saturday to commence preparation of the meal.  And that everything is under control.  He also apologized if his lack of communication had caused me any "stress".

(He added that he now understands that the expression "explosive diarrhea" is literally true.  Should that really have been in the same email?)

I Was Wrong

The Petraeus scandal is a FANTASTIC scandal. It grows more sordid every day. Just what I like in a scandal.

I hope it keeps adding new Generals and other Real Housewives of Tampa on a daily basis.

If he was head of the CIA and he didn't know that your private email account can still be checked, well, he was one lousy head of espionage.  Didn't they at least make him take a computer literacy test?

I have images of Mrs. Petraeus whacking her cheatin' husband with a frying pan. You [whack] scoundrel [whack]!  Go back to Kabul, you cad.

Feast Update

On Thursday evening, I emailed FF with some questions about the dinner. Things like: will you do the prep at your house and bring it over, or are you doing all the prep at my place? How many pots and pans will you need? Do you want money in advance to pay for the food?  You know, practical questions.

On Friday, he emails me "I'll get back to you over the weekend."  I sent two texts and last night another email, saying "call me on your break at work".  I'm still waiting.

None of this is a surprise. One of my guests dropped by yesterday while I was raking endless leaves, and I told her to be ready for a meal cooked by Yours Truly. She said she's ready for a pot luck.

So I'm planning my own menu. At least the dining room has been cleared out and the good dishes are ready to be used for the first time in years and years.

I hope he's in jail. Nothing else will be a good enough excuse. (But am I surprised? No. Not at all.)

I'm Clueless

Somebody explain to me why Petraeus has resigned.

OK, he had an affair. So what? That's his business and his wife's business (and his girlfriend and her husband's businesses, I guess). But how does that affect the CIA?

It was an affair a) with a woman who was b) of the age of majority and c) consenting and d) apparently not a spy.  I don't get why he had to resign and why Prez O accepted his resignation. In Europe, this would get a yawn.

The Americans really need to develop better sex scandals.

Update: it's now clear why Petraeus was running those 10 k's in the Afghan hills every day. He had to stay in shape for multiple extramarital boinking. Happy Veteran's Day, General.

Fancy Feast's Fancy Feast

Let me preface this post by saying "Why, yes, actually, I am crazy."

I have planned an evening of fine dining at my home, with the cooking to be done by Fancy Feast (and his gf, more on this later).  Next weekend, three of the girls from work are coming over to be dined. (They will be wined also, but have offered to bring their own. Nice.)

Is it possible to calculate the number of ways in which this evening can go terribly, terribly wrong? No, it is not possible. So let the chips fall where they may. (Not those kind of chips.)

My primary worry right now is that state of the romance between FF and PS (Poor Sara). Things are rocky. They are supposed to be moving to a bigger place, so they are apartment hunting. But things are tense on the homefront, so FF decided that once the apartment is rented, he needs to move into it ALONE for a month or so because he needs some "space".  He told her she and her 2 kids can stay in the current place, and move a month later. So, how could that possibly be a problem, right? After all, they've been living together for a good two months now. Insanity.

I asked: How are these problems going to affect my dinner? Is she going to show up or what? He insists that yes, she'll participate. The dinner will not be affected by their internal affairs.

Second problem: As of this week, FF is working two jobs and is away from home (i.e. away from the girlfriend) from 6:30 in the morning til 11:00 at night. It must be bliss for her.  So what kind of shape is he going to be in next Saturday, two weeks into this two-job schedule?  Will he fall alseep in his butternut squash?

Fortunately, the girls from work are aware that they are guinea pigs in this catering biz and have said "Hey, if we end up having to order pizza, so be it."  So be it.

Stay tuned...

Montreal is So Exciting (not at all like Edmonton)

Our ding-dong of a mayor has announced his resignation tonight. One mention of his name during the corruption commission and he hit the road.

And worse yet, the most likely successor for the job is Applebaum, the mayor of my "arrondissement". Yes, we call our 'hoods "arrondissements" so we can pretend we are JUST LIKE PARIS. So fucking pathetic we are.

I'm so SICK of living in this corrupt city in this corrupt province. I need to move to a nice, clean-living place.  Maybe Sicily.

P.S. Yes, I do recognize that in his own way, Mayor Blimp of Toronto, is worse.

U.S. Election Eve

The Big Day in the US of A is tomorrow.  Honestly, when Obama was elected, I expected him to spend four years dodging bullets like Chow Yun Fat.  I am shocked, shocked, that he has made it through his first term without getting shot at.  Kudos to the Secret Service, I guess.

This puts Prez O. miles ahead of your average Montreal crime boss.
This morning in Blainville:  "Honey, there's a body in the driveway of the house across the street."  "Is it that old Italian guy?"

Oh No! Expos Death News

Our man Pascual has been killed.

"Police in the Dominican Republic say former major league pitcher Pascual Perez has been killed during an apparent home invasion robbery." (CBC)

How awful.

Happy Halloween!

I just had a kid come to the door, dressed in a normal costume. I guess he was a Detective. But his father, who was waiting on the sidewalk, was dressed like a cow.  Head to toe. Cow.

The kid is old enough to be embarrassed. What can you do when your dad is a bigger Halloween party animal than you are? The kid said "thank you" and the dad gave me a big friendly wave. I hope he was drunk.

The Red Scare is Back

I no longer watch CNN, but since the hurricane I have tuned in for a couple of evenings.  I am fascinated by a commercial that runs on CNN, paid for by a private citizen.  The fellow is a Hungarian immigrant who moved to the US and clearly got rich. So rich in fact that he can sponsor his own political t.v. commercial, starring himself.

The commercial is about the Evils of Socialism. It is truly bizarre. Socialism makes people lazy. Socialism means people have no dreams of bettering themselves.  Socialism causes people to abandon all hope and ambition.  WTF?

I did not realize that the US was teetering on the precipice of becoming the USSA.  So how do we stop the US from becoming the next People's Republic? Vote Republican.  Hey, if a crazy old rich guy says it, it must be true.

Nuthin' happenin'

There is so much "weather" affecting the eastern part of North America, and yet, ain't nuthin' happenin' 'round these parts.  It's very weird. Maybe we will get torrential downpours tomorrow. Maybe, maybe not.

Tomorrow is Hallowe'en. If it rains hard, then there will not be many trick-or-treaters on my street. This means I'll have to eat most of the Floridian mini chocolate bars in my stash all by myself. I will regret that.

While in Florida, I had my first taste of alligator. It was Lousiana gator. Breaded. Tasted like popcorn chicken!

Goin' South

I am off to sunny, warm Florida in the early morning for a brief mental health break. The whole family is going this time. So it should be interesting. The oldies and the young 'uns.

I shall leave this as the "open thread"  as the pro's say in the blogging world, so you may discuss bacon to your heart's content in my absence.

Back next weekend, hopefully suntanned and definitely bloated with American snacks. Wise Chips, here I come.

Samosa Hangover

I have discovered samosa heaven in Montreal. A colleague brought in samosas from Pushap, near Namur, for a luncheon this week. 

Let me say, shamelessly, OINK! OINK!  Your humble blogger ate not one, not two, but FOUR samosas. I couldn't stop. They were so good.  I'd rather eat FOUR samosas than have dessert any time.

Problem is, guess who has been (near literally) running to the bathroom three times morning? Hint: It's ME!  Dang that curse of the Indian food.  Samosas, I can't quit ya. I today am paying a major price for my piglet behaviour.  But they were sooo good.

DEE-TROIT!

What a great sweep of the Yankees. Bravo! 

Will A-Rod (BOO) be gone from NY forever? There was a great comment made during Game 3. A Rod (BOO) was on the bench and not looking at all like he would even pinch hit. And one commentator said "Is there something wrong with him?" And the other replied "Nothing wrong from the neck down."  Ooh, snap!

Prince Fielder's beard is the very definition of "fugly".

I hate when commentators refer to home runs as  "dingers".  Stop doing that.

And, over in the National League, best name in baseball:  Buster Posey.

Fall Classic

I am once again addicted to baseball.  The wildcard play-offs were amazing, and last night Game One of the American League Final was on-the-edge-of-my-seat exciting. I can't believe I was up past 1 watching that endless game.

I don't want to see the Yankees win again. I hate their wealth. Individually I like most of their players (except A-Rod BOO!) but I am rooting for Detroit all the way!  Too bad about Jeter's broken ankle. He is a classy guy and I like him (unlike A-Rod BOO!) but Go Tigers.

In the National League, I am pulling for the Cardinals. They do miracles. Game One is tonight.

Oops

Canadian workers are even less productive than originally thought – 0.1 per cent per year less productive, to be exact. That’s the conclusion of Statistics Canada after a series of recent revisions to more than 30 years of key economic data ... (The G&M)

– 0.1 per cent per year.  I take full responsibility for this. My bad.  Apparently, one person's supreme laziness can skew national statistics.  Sorry, StatsCan.

A Small Holiday Miracle

Happy Thanksgiving to all. The African Mask is gone from my humble home. Yes!

Yesterday, Fancy Feast dropped in for a chat. He is now semi-officially living in NDG with the new girlfriend. So he is a 10-minute walk from my place. O joy.

He resisted taking the mask. "Does it really bother you that much?" he asked. I said, why yes, yes, it does bother me that much. "Why," he asked. "It's been here for a year."  Yes, that's part of the problem.  I want it out. So he reluctantly took it, saying "I don't know what 'new girlfriend' is going to say about it. So far all I have is a suitcase with some clothes and some toiletries".  Well, I said, now you'll have the mask too.  And off he went, bearing the mask.  Adieu African mask!

(Aside, I need a nickname for the new girlfriend. Right now I just think of her as "Poor Sarah". I'll have to come up with something else. Run, girl! It's not too late.)

But enough about bacon...

I am back. Was away for three days in beautiful sunny Kingston (Ontario, not Jamaica) so I have indeed been delinquent about blogging.

We all know this is NOT a bacon blog, it is an "Update on JAW Fan's blogs" blog. So here is the update. His blogs are gone, finito, vamoose. Sayonara to his blogs. His computer was infected by spyware and basically done gone all f*cked up. So both blogs have been deleted. For all eternity!!

I missed Margaret Dumont Wednesday and now it is gone forever. Woe is me.