The FORTRESS of SOLITUDE

Greeting, gentle reader(s). Just throwing some pasta at the universe and seeing if it sticks (or if it rolls down the side of the universe, leaving a streaky, slimey trail that you can't scrape off unless you get out the scourer and the fucking Fantastik!)

My PlayStation Network ID is "STM007" ...add me if you dare and I shall obliterate your feeble mind in Tiger Woods 2007...you've been warned.

Categories: PS3

...no, this isn't going to a long and drawn out blog entry ruminating over the merits of Brent Spinder's 1991 attempt at ironic music.

Over the past four days, I have had several run ins with everyone's favourite and most common bodily fluid - urine. Yum. :x Not being into watersports, it was not a week I care to repeat...ever.

Thursday I left work in a severe rush, I was anxious to get home. Can't even remember why. In any event, I ended up taking the subway home. When I got off, I walked very purposefully towards my apartment building. About 30 yards away, I decided to pull out my keys from the front pocket of my backpack. As I reached around, I realized that the pocket was not firmly zipped shut as I had anticipated, but gaping open. I stuck my hand in and didn't notice anything missing, but I also couldn't find my keys (I figured they would be in the main pocket).
I stopped in the construction tunnel that was erected in front of my building and placed by bag on the ledge. I opened the main zipper and quickly took out my shopping bags (from Old Navy and Bluenotes) and hastily placed them on the ground. As I did so, I noticed an putrid odour but ignored it as there were more important and immediate concerns.
Inside my bag, I couldn't find my keys at all. I must have forgot them at work. I grabbed my blackberry and couldn't for the life of me remember anyone's extensions. Also, my blackberry was having a hard time with the company directory. I figured I would just go to the management office and get the spare set and retrieve my keys at work later. I lifted up one of my bags and the smell became instantly worse. I reached down to the bottom of the bag, which was soaking wet, and thought, "Wow...that's a lot of water..."
My hand came back up to about 10 inches from my nose and I smelled quite possible the most odious, abhorrent and unspeakable wave of stench I have ever experienced. Like "The Bog of Eternal Stench" levels here, people. I immediately dry heaved and dropped the bag. Thankfully, my clothes remained inside it and dry. I picked up the other bag and idiotically placed my OTHER hand in that wetness.

So, I'm standing outside my building, an open backpack, a blackberry and two shopping bags, dripping and stinking with piss. At this point, it was obvious that I couldn't return to work, either walking or on the subway. The smell would have killed me long before anyone else got a chance to partake.
I headed to the management office and carefully asked from the farthest distance possible, if I could have the keys to my apartment. The woman asked to see my picture ID. Great...I have to fish out my wallet and then my license with a urine stinking hand and give it to her. UGH. I did find the wallet, then the license and eventually got the keys. I ran into my apartment, threw down the bags and began washing my hands with the hottest water I could handle. They were quite red afterwards. None of the clothes ended up getting wet, thank god - but that was not to be the case for long...


Friday night, Ian, Trevor and I headed out to the usual fun and friendly nightspots we frequent. But, since those places were packed, we headed to O'Grady's and the Eagle instead. I decided to wear a pair of my new jeans (which looked badass, btw); one of the pairs that was protected in my Bluenotes bag from the piss storm outside my building on that fateful Thursday.
O'Grady's was uneventful, save running into these two dudes from Scotland that I spoke with online (I forgot last weekend was the weekend they were in). They said they were headed to the Eagle, so Trevor, Ian and I conferred and decided to head over in a half hour or so.
We arrived at the Eagle and it was dark and packed, as it usually is on a Friday night. I was already well into my stupid phase of drinking, so when I saw the two Scots, I immediately waved, stepped up onto the bench that divides the patio in half and looked for a landing spot. There was one and I jumped down. As I hit the ground, however, my left leg shot out in front of me and my right leg slammed into the bench right behind me. I spilled my beer all over my leg. This nice guy helped me back up as I whispered, "Shit, man...didn't see that beer there." He straightened me up and said, "That wasn't beer." I looked where he was now pointing and saw some young dude getting pissed on...


Categories: Miscellaneous

So on this site I belong to, this dude messaged me ages and ages ago and basically asked if I wanted to screw around with him. I didn't because a) he only had one picture and b) I'm don't get wet for manatees. I replied politely (because I always TRY to reply unless someone "woofs" me) and said, "Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I'm not really looking for that, though" So he writes me back:

-Fine, fuck off then-

So I blocked him. A few weeks ago, I was perusing my block list and unblocked everyone coz, well...honestly, I was bored. He writes me today and goes:

-Hey S, I love a thick cock. Wanna get sucked off?-

A) How does he know I can provide him what he's looking for (there are no wang shots on any of my profiles) and B) didn't he tell me to "fuck off?" I write him back:

-Oddly enough, I don't find people who tell me to 'fuck off' attractive. Go figure-

And he writes back:

-Sorry S, had a bad night, my friends brother decided to take his own life-

And I reply:

-So you figured you'd go online and cruise? :s-

After a long while, he writes back:

-no, i was looking for some company-

And I reply:

-by offering sex to random strangers?-

And he writes:

-give it a rest. i'm heading off to watch the World Cup Rugby Final. Mike ;)-

WTF?

Seriously, the winkie at the end made my head explode. lol

So I finally replied with:

-good luck with your mental health issues. and thanks for the 'excuse.' apprecaite it.

I'll be putting you back on the blocked list so I'll have at least ONE less nutjob messaging me.

Enjoy your game! :)-

Strangely, you can't block someone on the site until they message you, so technically he's not blocked until he replies...

UPDATE:

So he replies with:

-you are a horrible, nasty man-

ROFLMAO

So I block him and then write back:

-No, like I said, I'm strangely repulsed by people who tell me to fuck off.

Especially when I was nothing but polite to those people.

I think there may be a lesson in this. What do you think?-

Categories: Miscellaneous

Tips for Retards™ - Tip #39

To the lovely woman who gave me attitude this morning as I attempted to pass on her right as she was walking towards me:

You DO NOT live in England, nor any other European nation. Please see the sidewalk as the foot-powered equivalent of a street - ALWAYS walk on the RIGHT. And if, like you, one happens to be devoid of any human brain capacity whatsoever, take your cues from people who know. Also, don't give attitude to people who know what the hell they're doing.

I SAID, "GOOD DAY!"

Categories: Tips_For_Retards

or
How The Entire Thing Turned Around

After both of my accidents, I was severely frazzled. I stopped twittering. Although I knew I would blog about it eventually, I just felt drained of any kind of wit. I did manage, however to have a great weekend considering.
First of all, I have my PS3 which is as badass as everyone says and 100x moreso. I now have Motor Storm, Tiger Woods 2007, Skate and a whole slew of games I downloaded, including my fave - Super Stardust HD. SO FUN. Then on Sunday I had Ian, Trevor and Tyler over for Thanksgiving dinner. I had bought a roasting chicken because even the young turkeys looked a little too large for our purposes. Tyler was making a carrot dish, Trevor was bringing Yorkshire puddings and whipped cream for the pumpkin pie that Ian was bringing. I decided to go overboard, so I made the chicken, mashed potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower and green beans. First off, my kitchen is too small for even two people to be cooking in it. Also, I don't have enough pots to cook that many side dishes. Finally, the chicken was twice as big as the recipe I was making called for, but like the assclown that I occasionally embody, I didn't adjust cooking times. So..in the end, the chicken turned out perfectly, but everything else (save the stuff other people made) was overcooked. :( I was not impressed, but everyone seemed to enjoy it. The Yorkshire puddings, French carrot dish, pumpkin pie and blueberry pie were all incredible. It was a fun night all around. :)
After that, not much happened until the Snow Show on Thursday. I was super paranoid that I would have to pay copious amounts of money to Ms. Swan...

...and thereby be unable to pay for me skiin' shit. Thankfully, it turns out this wasn't the case.
T and I arrived at the Snow Show at about 3:30 and did a big circuit of the entire event. LOADS of stuff there (I'm actually considering heading back to pick up my only missing items - gloves, goggles and a boot bag).
Anyway, we found a great ski kiosk with really helpful people. I explained my whole story - used to ski, was quite good, but haven't done it in 10 years, want to start up again so the learning curve will be short before I get back to where I was (hopefully). So, he pointed out a couple skis that would be good and the second pair he showed me looked badass and were $299 from $700. I'm there. I bought 'em. They're red, black, gray and silver...nice (pics below). We taggged them with our receipt and left them there to shop for boots. I did try on boots at the same place, but they only had low-end ones that were way too tight on my extremely wide (and sexy) feet. He was really good and wrote down a few brands that I should try and find at other kiosks (because they're designed wide).
We headed to find the boots but were pretty unsuccessful until we stumbled upon this one exhibitor. Going towards the back, both T and I immediately noticed the UBERhot babe helping out some other customer with boots. The waiting game began. Both T and I circled like a pair of buzzards waiting for the opportunity to grab his attention. Unfortunately, my patience was wearing thin so I eventually hit up some other, older gentleman to help me. I told him my story and he started rattling off all this information - he was really helpful, too, even moreso than the dude at the other kiosk. He had me try on this one pair of boots that seriously felt like my feet were in a bear trap. As he did this, the UBERhot babe became available and asked T if he needed help. With a frown, he pointed towards me and said, "It's for my buddy...but he's been helped." We were both bummed. :)
T came over and we found a pair of boots on display that were at the top of the list the other dude gave us. Sweet. Now, do they have them in my size? The guy helping us had gone off to find another pair that he thought would suit me. As he rounded the bench he pulled out the exact same pair we were eyeing - Nordica Beast 10's. SCHWEET! He put them on and I swear...it was like putting my feet in heaven - if heaven were a shoe and God was the eater of toe-jam, not souls. It was beautiful.

"I'll take them!"

The boots were regularly in the $500s, but were marked down to $329.99. Excellent. We got to the cash and noticed some ski bags for 50% off. I grabbed a nice one and brought it to the cash. They rang it in - $15. SCORE. Then she rang in the boots...$279.99...


...silence...

...I pulled out my VISA and shut my mouth. DOUBLE-SCORE. We managed to find poles elsewhere and then were off to find an outfit. I went to the Sporting Life area and was looking through their Burton jackets (T is always extolling the virtues of Burton gear - thanks, man.). Sadly, they didn't have an XL in sight. Bummer. But, I did manage to find an XL Burton 686 Jacket. It was grey with baby blue pinstripes running through it. BEAUTIFUL. I tried it on. Perfect. Looked at the tag - $199.99, regularly $399.99. SCHWING! In the meantime, T had been a doll and found skipants for me. I tried those on too and score - perfect fit.
It was really my day. I wanted to find a boot bag, too, but I had had enough of the Snow Show so we left (which is why I may return sometime this weekend).
The entire getup cost under $1300 and I'd set aside $2500...I was stoked and still am. Watch out!

Here it is in all it's sexiful glory.


Categories: Miscellaneous

^or
Cafe du Crackberry

^A.K.A
The 3 Day Rape Session Afforded Me By Rogers

As Ms. Swan CRANED her neck to look back at us, she screeched, "Why you HIT me?!" Despite my entirely fucked up state, I came seconds away from hollering, "Coz you got in my WAY, BITCH!" I didn't, thankfully. I told her to pull into the parking lot she felt was so important to turn into only moments earlier and we followed. The entire time, though, Ms. Swan had a stern look on her face like we were gonna cut and run.

I did actually consider it, I'll be honest. But, I'm a good boy (at least behind the wheel) so I turned in behind her. I was still frazzled, but this woman waiting in the drive-thru line at the McDonald's yelled over, "If you guys need a witness, I saw the whole thing." She pulled out of line and came over to us.
At this point, Miss Swan was fully out of her car, and grabbing her neck. You know, like what happens when you're in a REAL accident. I apologized at least 5 times and the witness came over to help. Turns out she is a former Accident Adjuster so we couldn't have had a better person there to guide us through the process. Unfortunately, I was inconsolable and let T handle the entire affair after handing him my license. I phoned the Zipcar people and they told me everything that had to be done.
Ms. Swan and T exchanged information (the entire time, alternating between craning her neck to look at the horrific damage to her bumper and then grabbing her neck in extreme pain). The more she grabbed her neck, the more I freaked out with Judge Judy's back catalogue of episodes running through my head. I'm going to get sued. I'm going to get sued. Turns out you can't do that in Canada unless you don't have insurance, so YAY Canuckistan!
Anyway, we eventually headed off, found the Wal-Mart and bought the PS3. We returned home without incident and set the thing up.

Then we come to Saturday. I'm sitting in my living room, drinking coffee out of my Bodum and playing PS3. My blackberry was sitting on the coffee table too, out of it's leather holster. However I managed it, I'm not sure, but the next thing I knew, there was coffee everywhere. It hit the PS3 controller, it hit my remotes and it hit my blackberry. I grabbed the PS3 controller and ran to get a towel. I wiped it off and it seemed no worse for wear. As I returned to the living room, though, I could see the blackberry submerged under an ocean of coffee...
I wiped it off, shook it out and tried to use it; it seemed ok. The more I fiddled, though, the more I realized that hitting the "S" on the keyboard gave you a "U" and an "O" - shit. I headed off to the Rogers store near my building to see what could be done. I was in luck - turns out they had a used one (used for about half an hour) that they could give me for $250. Expensive, but fuck...I'm committed to a year long blackberry information plan so to not buy one would be a waste of money (or would it? I still haven't figured out that one in my head). In any event, they were going to sell it to me but couldn't because the SKU code hadn't been entered into the system. I asked how long that would take and the nice girl at the desk phoned the Helpdesk at Rogers right there and then and put through the order. I was overly anxious to get the thing replaced since i didn't have a phone to use in the meantime except for my old cellphone which had no address book (relatively useless). She told me it would be done by that evening and she took my name and number, placed them on the blackberry box and said she would call me when it was put in but that if I didn't hear anything, it would be done by the morning. Fine.
I went home and got no call. The next morning, I tried calling the store, but couldn't get an answer. I got ready and headed out to the Rogers store again. I arrived and asked if I could pick up the blackberry they had on hold for me. I gave the girl my name and she found it in the cupboard. Unfortunately, when she went to ring it in, the code had not been entered yet. *GRUMBLE*
I told her what the girl from yesterday had told me and said girl happened to be in the store. She walked over and said, "Yeah, I guess it's not in yet."
"Oh, ok...?" I replied
"Yeah, it probably won't be in until Monday."
"Monday's a holiday."
"Oh yeah...I guess Tuesday then."
"I see."
"Yeah, check back on Tuesday."
"You told me yesterday that it would be entered by this morning."
"Yeah, it should go in sometime today. You can try calling back."
"Okidoke! Thanks for your help!" (BITCH)

I returned home and phoned a couple of hours later. A gentleman answered the phone and I told him the whole story.
"Oh, the used blackberry?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Yeah, you can buy that outright at anytime for $550."
"Ok...well, they told me $250 or so and that I couldn't buy it at any time because the sku code wasn't in the system."
"No, not $250. $550 and you can pick it up at any time."
"Why was I told a completely different story?"
"I'm not sure, sir, but you can buy it any time."
"Well, your helpful staff told me that I couldn't and I've been without a phone for two days because of their misinformation."
"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know how that happened, but I assure you you can buy it at anytime for $550."
"Thanks so much."

I got on my bike and headed over. It was around 4 or so and the sky was the colour of black sackcloth. The heavens were planning on opening up at any moment. As I locked my bike, the rain began. Fucking. Hell.
I walked into the store and plunked down $620 for a new blackberry. Excessive? Certainly. Necessary? Absolutely not. Right decision? Prolly not. Am I happy with it? Indeed.

I returned home in an absolute downpour and applied analgesic cream to my ravaged anus.

Categories: Miscellaneous

or
The Night I Met and Nearly Killed Ms. Swan
^{(and not in that order)}

Greetings, Gentle Reader(s). The last 7 days have been nothing if not eventful. Let's go back in time, shall we...? Stare into the picture below for 37.2 hours and continue reading once you've picked yourself off the floor...


As many of my friends who read my blog will know, I've been wanting to get back into skiing this year. My attendance at the annual Snow Show at Exhibition Place has been planned for more than a few months. In order to facilitate this purchase, I contacted my bank about floating me some bread (how 70s) to make it happen. Always ready to charge me interest, they said yes practically before I finished asking the question. They stupidly gave me so much in fact, that I was able to realize my fifth most important dream* of buying a Playstation 3.
Another reason for purchasing the PS3 was the price. Wal-Mart had a sale on PS3s that ended last Thursday (an 80Gig one for $549, incl. a bluetooth remote, Motor Storm and a controller). I only had to buy the cord to connect it to my telly (and any games I wanted - bought Skate and I was set). Anyway, the actual purchase of the PS3 was uneventful, it was getting to the Wal-Mart that was REALLY exciting.
T and I headed out on Thursday night around 6pm on our Playstation Adventure™. We headed to the ghetto-ist of sock 'n' high-heel wearin' Wal-Marts, the Dufferin/Bloor location. Shortly after arriving, we realized that they were completely sold out. It was not looking good. We got the numbers to a couple of locations from a gent working in the electronics section and left. There was a Toys 'R' Us location in the same mall, so we checked there. The 60Gig version without a game, or a controller, or a remote was the same price. Nu-uh.
T and I both called separate locations on the list. While I was on hold with mine, T gave me a dire look and shook his head. Not good. Turned out, though, that the St.Clair/Runnymede location had "loads" of them left in stock. Sweet. We jumped in our Zipcar and headed out. I wasn't entirely sure how to get there, so T did some nice navigating. We eventually hit St. Clair W and headed westward.
Many probably don't remember, but Thursday night was very foggy. It wasn't pea soup foggy, but the roads were somewhat...moist, shall we say. As the light turned green at the Keele/St.Clair W intersection, we accelerated up the slight gradient. On the left was a large plaza complex with a Home Depot and a McDonalds...both T and I turned to see if it was the Wal-Mart and turned back to the road (an action that probably took under 5 nanoseconds). As we turned back to the road, the car in front, a silver Honda Civic, stopped abruptly and turned it's left turn signal on. I was about 20 feet away at this point and slammed on the brakes with a "FUCK!!" Unfortunately for me (and the front fender), we were squarely in line with the streetcar tracks and the car began it's exaggerated and laborious slide closer and closer to the back end of the other car. I thought that we might stop in time, but alas, we were about a foot too long and bumped the car.
I nearly had an aneurysm right there and then, but instead simply barfed up a steady stream of "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I was freaking out. I've never been in an accident (as the driver) before in my life. I pride myself on my observational skills and ability to react appropriately to avoid disaster. The car slid so slowly into hers, I had time to weigh my options - turn into oncoming traffic, or attempt to move the car right (there were cars preventing this in both directions). I figured tapping her bumper was the lesser of three evils and certainly the least injurious. The bump (I wouldn't call it a hit) jostled T and I slightly. We couldn't have been going more than 10km/h when we impacted the rear bumper and as I cautiously looked up, I could see the damage was only a slight chip in her paint (about two inches across).
I scanned across the car to the driver's side and saw the silhouette of the person behind the wheel. The door of the car opened and the driver got out...



*falling after finishing school, buying ski equipment, achieving world peace and finding a good cesear salad recipe...
Categories: Miscellaneous

Appetizer
When was the last time you were surprised?
Yesterday, when I managed to get my entire skiing equipment setup for under $1300. SCHWEET!

Soup
Fill in the blanks: My eyes are ________, but I wish they were __________.
My eyes are blue, but I wish they were x-ray.

Salad
If you were a Beanie Baby, what would you look like and what would your name be?
It would be a lion named Doris.

Main Course
Name two things you consistently do that you consider to be healthy habits.
Cycle and floss daily.

Dessert
What brand of toothpaste are you using these days? Do you like it? Why or why not?
I think it's Colgate. It cleans my god damn teeth, what more do you want, people?!?!

Categories: Friday_Feast

Appetizer
On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how much do you look forward to your birthday?
After 30, I guess it would be around a 4. Not that I fear it, just doesn't mean as much as it used to when I was naive. :)

Soup
What is one word you don’t like the sound, spelling, or meaning of?
omnisexual

Salad
Do you wear sunglasses when you’re outside? If so, what does your current pair look like?
I do. Although I seem to have lost my sunglasses. :( They were highway patrolman type, mirrored jobbies.

Main Course
If you were to write a book, to whom would you dedicate it?
To me. I'm that asshole.

Dessert
Name a beverage that you enjoy.
Irn-Bru...just to be different.

Categories: Friday_Feast

I rarely write (or even talk) about what goes on at my job. It's partly a privacy thing and it's partly due to the simple fact that I find my job boring a lot of the time. Not boring to the point that I'm ripping out my hair with nothing to do, but I often think the amount of backstory required to contextualize any sort of anecdote about work isn't worth the outcome. The outcome being a mediocre, mildly amusing story.

Regular readers of this blog, on the other hand, will also note that one thing I LOVE to do is complain and bitch. So...here goes...

Any sort of text based description of my job and duties would be wholly inadequate to describe the sheer vastness of my skill set and how said skill set is used to great effect in my current position. No one else in the department does what I do, or knows as much about our systems as I do. That's not me blowing air into my already inflated head, it's just a fact. There's a reason I've stayed here this long and that reason is the people the satisfaction the fulfillment the money. You don't get the kind of money required to keep you in a mediocre job unless you're pretty damn good at it (or at the very least, damn good at making yourself look indispensable). I'm not saying I'm rolling in loot (far from it); I'm as comfortable as a 30-year-old who doesn't own any property could be, well maybe not THAT comfortable...

Being so indispensable means that a lot of people in the department contact me when they have problems or they need something done. I have no problem helping out someone who is having trouble with a program that is beyond their level of comfort or someone who can't figure out why some anomalous behaviour is taking place in the program. I don't, however, like helping people who are clearly using me as a human garbage can for the work they are unwilling to do for themselves. My bullshit detector in life is fairly attuned, but at work it is the equivalent of a Hatori Honzo sword...

There is a woman I work with whom covers me when I'm away and vice-versa. Our two jobs overlap a lot, but are quite divergent from each other at the same time. This woman is a sweetheart and has worked here for nearly 30 years - lovely lady. Problem is, she seems to enjoy being the human garbage can for work that others are unwilling to do. I guess it is probably some psychological hold-over from her days in the secretarial pool...or the typing pool...

Anyway, she'll bust her ass at 11:30pm on the last day of the month to process something for someone that needs it completed by 12am (even if said say occurs on a WEEKEND). That's how stupid dedicated she is. This practice becomes problematic when this selflessness is at the detriment to others...namely me.

This weekend, she did a bunch of work from home. Unfortunately, a screw-up in the servers and accessibility has meant that she cannot upload said work to the servers and as a result, the server is not accurate (as far as what is done and what isn't). And it won't be accurate until her finished work can be reconciled with the server copies of this work. It is a huge pain in the ass.

On the first day of every month, I have to run month-end reports from the previous month (including figures of work that has been completed). Since this weekend was the end of September and today is the first day of October - the figures won't be accurate. In other words, because she decided to bend over backwards to help some lazy-ass-muthah-fuckahs, I'm sitting here raring to go on a Monday morning and am effectively being told I can't do jackshit.

I'm more than a little annoyed.

And to top it off, I've just been told that instead of working from home tomorrow, I have to be in the office. For what, you ask? An office function. In other words...nothing to do with my job. That makes me want to hurt people.

Categories: rant, work

Appetizer
How are you today?
I'm going to answer this as if it was Friday - I'm doing very well, looking forward to an evening out with Ian and Trevor tonight. (we had a rip roarin' good time...)

Soup
Name 3 television shows you watch on a regular basis.
Heroes
Dexter
Coronation Street

Salad
What’s the scariest weather situation you’ve experienced?
Back when that tornado ripped through Barrie in the late 80s, my family happened to be driving through about 2 minutes later. The weather wasn't that scary, but the aftermath was FUCKED. UP.

Main Course
If you could wake up tomorrow morning in another country, where would you want to be?
England...but only for a couple weeks. Then I'd want to wake up back at home.

Dessert
What do you usually wear to sleep?
Undies - although I've been known to sleep naked.

Categories: Friday_Feast