johnrobe

Question:

Is it weird that I prefer to iron with my laptop beside me so I can surf the web as I press my shirts?

Like the title says, I think I know the answer.

Just to make myself seem worse … I also need the TV on, or I go nuts from boredom.

See, to me, it's multi-tasking, but maybe, just maybe, it's a desperate call for help. What's your take?

Upset at all the fake nudes of her on the Internet, Supermodel Vida Guerra has decided to show everyone what the real her looks like by posing nude.

That'll teach 'em.

I like this line of thinking. If it catches on, a lot of interesting things will start happening. Personally, I'm looking forward to record companies giving away music for free to retaliate for all the piracy.

The last two weeks have been hell for me. The stress gave me a cold again, made me irritable and caused some other stress related health issues. The next two won't be much better, and this week started out poorly, with me working Sunday, then Monday until 7:00, then hopping on a plane for the last flight to Thunder Bay. I had no time to eat, other than in the cab on the way to the airport, but I had no time to actually get anything good, or tasty.

So I went to McDonald's.

This is like 2 posts involving McDonald's in the last month, but honestly, I don't eat there very often, especially after Super Size Me. (Though ironically, reading Fast Food Nation made me want to eat at McDonald's more than I normally would have.)

Anyhow, I decided to get my usual, which was a quarter pounder with cheese combo, but things were slow, so as I waited I got to hear a few different people order. The person directly in front of me ordered something I thought was a little odd… a double big mac, probably the least healthy thing on the McDonald's menu, and indeed perhaps any fast food menu, and a small milk, possibly the healthiest thing on the McDonald's menu.

Looking at the guy didn't really explain things. He was a smallish, older guy. The type of person you can imagine being an accountant. He was wearing a suit, but with a baseball cap. Another symbol of the odd duality I suppose, but it got me to wondering, what makes people order the things they order? What makes us be what we are?

All of us like to think of ourselves as unique in some way, but the older I get, sadly, the less unique I feel. I think that's fairly common, with adolescence, we all think we're invicible, destined to be the king or queen or the world. As we age, we realize we're probably not destined for the throne.

The thing that put it all in perspective for me was the truly fantastic show Connections, by James Burke. That show broadened my mind in two very important ways. The first was the show itself, which if you haven't seen is a simply marvellous show about the way history evolved in ways other than what we think. I'll say more in another post. I hope someday the show is aired again so you can watch it.

The other way it changed my perspective on the world was the end of what I believe was the last episode. The show had started with Mr. Burke standing next to a conveyor belt, then meandered back and forth over hundreds of years of history, finally ending up back in the factory, which we then discovered was a cookie factory, churning out little gingerbread men by the hundreds. The show then took a turn for the philosophical, with James asking you to think about what was in your pockets. He then emptied out his pockets, showing some keys, some change, some gum or candy or some such. He then pondered if any of us really had anything in our pockets that wasn't in the pockets of millions of other people. Because, he pondered, if we weren't in there, where are we? Burke then raised his hands above his head in an eerie gesture, and the picture dissolved from him to one of the gingerbread men on the conveyor belt, traveling down the line in the same eerie pose, surrounded by other identical cookies.

I had ordered a quarter pounder with cheese combo, probably the most commonly ordered meal on earth. At least that guy had ordered something that you have to admit, for McDonald's, was pretty darn rare. Although I couldn’t stomach it, I can respect it.

Few people know this about me, because I keep my greatest talents secret until I really need them, but I am a fantastic beatboxer. Don't believe me? We'll just have to agree to disagree and/or keep you in the dark forever.

I will admit, though, that this guy is better than me. Way better. This guy is way better than everyone.

I'm still the world's greatest thumb wrestler and wack-a-mole player though.

For as long as we’ve lived in the house, there’s been this guy who drops by every two weeks. No, not in a biweekly Larry-from-Three’s-Company sort of guy, this guy’s different.

He comes by at night, after people have put out their recycling, and he sorts through everyone’s stuff, pulling out cans and hauls them off to who knows where.

Tonight, I was taking out the recycling, and as I tried to corral Lance, who had run outside as usual, I noticed he was stopped, transfixed by something. I picked him up and looked where he was staring, and realized he was staring at our Larry, the can-sorting-guy.

Pausing to look at him for a while and wonder, once again, why he spent his every-other-Monday picking through people’s cans, I noticed something …

Not-Larry the can-sorting-guy was putting his debateably-ill-gotten booty into a TASH CART!

Suddenly I was casting my mind back to all those times he had showed up at our place, sorting through the cans … wondering … did he always have a Tash cart, or was this an addition since, say… LAST DECEMBER?

What I want to know is what is what is more crazy:

a) A man who travels the upper beaches every other monday grabbing empty pop cans out of people’s recycling, or

b) A man who is paranoid enough to think that a man crazy enough to steal empty pop cans is also crazy enough to steal someone’s Tash cart off of their porch?

Think about it. If we build a good enough case, I know how to catch him … a blue bin full of caffeine-free diet pepsi cans!

Is it just me, or is it a little strange to have Lobsterfest at Red Lobster?

Shouldn’t every day be lobsterfest at Red Lobster?

Stay tuned next month for ChickenFest at KFC!

After that, it’s TacoFest at Taco Bell! Subfest at Mister Sub!

Maybe people are catching on to the idea that lobsters are just gigantic water bugs and LobsterFest is a last ditch attempt to bring people back into the restaurant?

As you may know from my apparently insanely popular rant about Activia yogurt, one thing that makes me crazy are commercials that don't tell you what they're about.

I'm sure you've seen the ones that have finally driven me to the point of posting here … the ads for Cialis.

Aside from filling my inbox with spam, Cialis also advertises quite heavily on TV, but they're the type of commercials that for etiher for reasons legal or of propriety do not mention what the drug is for. To figure it out, if you don’t already know, the makers of Cialis are nice enough to give you three commercials to try and educate you.

Commercial #1 - A cabbie sits in front of a house. He’s bored. He stares into space. He does a crossword. He sips at a drink that’s long empty. Clearly, he’d rather be out getting money on a fare, but he’s waiting. Eventually, a couple comes out of the house and gets into the cab. The man looks at the cabbie and says that his wife couldn’t figure out what to wear, then he and his wife share a “Ha Ha” look.

Commercial #2 - An opera is in progress. A couple comes in. They start excusing themselves across the row in front of people. (As a side note, we don’t get to a lot of operas, but there’s nothing that drives Timmi more crazy than this sort of behaviour at a baseball game — wait for a break in play dammit!) They finally get to their seat just as the aria and the opera ends. They look at each other and share a “Ha Ha” look as no doubt everyone around them shares a “Thanks for standing in front of me so I couldn’t see the fat lady singing” look.

Commercial #3 - A bunch of people are curling. A man slides out of the hack and falls down, making a grunting noise. His friends gather around, genuinely concerned. He struggles his way up, but his wife says they should continue to play without them. They walk out. As soon as they’re outside the rink, his struggling gait evens out and his wife asks, “How’s the leg?”. “Better,” he replies with a “Ha ha” grin on his face.

Based on these commercials, it’s pretty clear to me what Cialis does. It turns you into an asshole.

I'm tossing a question out there for anyone who might know of a case that proves me wrong… but has there ever been a case in the history of television or movies where someone went to a fortune teller who used tarot cards and the Death card didn’t show up?

Seriously, I can’t think of a single time. Then the way it usually goes is they say that it doesn’t mean death, it means opportunity — then the person dies later on. That part isn’t constant though … but the death card always is.

Observed on the news monitors on the TTV the other day:

“Hong Kong man, 107, credits long life to diet, exercise, and decades of sexual abstinence.”

I remember when I was a kid, I thought that someone who was 30 was SO OLD. Now that I’m over 30, my mind has changed on that regard, and so I’m fully prepared to admit that maybe my perspective on this might change once I get to 107, but you know what my first reaction is to reading that quote?

I’ll give you a hint, it isn’t shock that a 107 year old man has had decades of sexual abstinence. This sounds like someone turning lemons into lemonade.