A Hazy Shade of Winter

So here we go again. The turkey leftovers are stewing in the soup pot. The registers are ringing like the bells on Santa's sleigh, and the Salvation Army has embarked on their annual war on poverty. The x-mas merchandising machine has to come to life once again.

You look at everything going on in the world. The attacks in Mumbai, the world economy burning like a raging California wild fire, pirates stealing oil tankers. It just seems crazy. But do you know what seems really crazy? How about a group of Christmas shoppers fueled with visions of grandeur (of saving two bucks on a piece of crap Taiwanese Cuckoo clock) trampling a young man to his death just to ENSURE they could get their hands on the &^%$ing Tickle Me Elmo first?

How appropriate that they call it Black Friday. This ACTUALLY happened. We are talking about a Long Island New York Wal-Mart. We are not talking about some Wal-Mart in a slack jawed Alabama town. We are talking about LONG ISLAND!!

I have said it before, and I will say it again. We can't comment on what goes on in the world, the genocides, the tortures, the cleansing of nations, until we can bring in the reins of our own society. There is a 34 year old man dead today. Why is he dead? Because some psychopaths decided that they had to wait outside of a Wal-Mart starting at 9 o'clock at night for a 5 in the morning opening. This is a &%$*ing Wal-Mart, a god damn &%$*ing Wal-Mart!!

The young man went to unlock the doors at 5. The crowd, a crowd that was already being "controlled" by the police surged forward crashing through the doors. The man didn't stand a chance, falling back and screaming for his life. His fellow workers were yelling at the top of their lungs for people to get back. Even the police were pushed aside. The man was trampled repeatedly. People were "cognizant" that they were stepping on a fellow human being, but they had to, HAD TO, get to the "deals". It wasn't that they finally got the crowd under control, quite the opposite, they had to wait until everyone was in before they could find his body lifeless on the floor. There were already people demanding service at the registers, people that went into further rage after being told the store wouldn't be doing business. Employees with tears streaming down their faces tried to explain the situation, but to these SAVAGES, that wasn't acceptable. SHAME ON YOU PEOPLE!!! SHAME ON YOU!!!

You have to keep in mind that Wal-Mart has hundreds of every item they sell. It's a month to Christmas for the love of God. What would happen if these people actually shopped at a place like Neiman-Marcus, or Nordstroms? Places that literally only have a few of each item, items that are quality made. Items that aren't made by children in the sweatshops of Asia.

I just hope that everyone of those %$#&ers look at the joy on their childs face Christmas morning as they unwrap their blood covered gift, I hope they pause and reflect on the mother, father, siblings, wife, children, and grandparents of the man they killed to get it. I hope they feel a pain for every tear they will shed. And I hope they get to say hi to the RCMP, YVR, and border services employees responsible for Robert Dziekanski's death as they all burn together in Hell.

Merry Christmas you %$#&ing bastards!!

That's How it Happened Living Life by the Drop

I heard this song last night for the first time in probably 15 years. You really have to wonder what Stevie would have done if he had been around longer. Incredible talent.

Beware the Cobb Salad

So I fancy myself as a bit of a wiz around the kitchen. I've had to look after myself for so long, it is something that eventually just comes to you. You can't survive on restaurant food, at least I can't. I need soul food, I need stick to your ribs home cooking, hopefully incorporating as much cream and cheese as possible.

Being single of course I don't tend to capitalize on my cooking skills during the weekend. Nothing says loser like sitting around home all night and cooking by yourself, or perhaps sitting around a public house night after night for no particular reason?!?! I don't tend to do the restaurant thing much on weekends because most of the time it turns into some type of disaster. People will fight over the bill (classless), some will drink too much, and some people will make the plans and just not show up at all. I was invited out for dinner on Saturday night. I thought about it, but to start with it was around six, that is usually the time I have lunch so that wasn't going to work. Secondly, it was an invite from people that had been drinking, and take my word for it...you can't trust that. Sure enough I heard on Monday that nobody even made it to the restaurant, so I would have been sitting there on my own. That is a big no no people, that's the kind of thing where you can invite me out a hundred more times and I will never say yes.

Anyhow, with a weekend full of hockey and championship (CFL, you decide) football, I hadn't eaten the best, so I decided it was salad time.

I have always loved Cobb Salads, they are just not very popular on the west coast, but I fell in love with them all over again in New York. Now I try to have at least one a week, whether I go to Bacchus or just make it myself at home. I was fresh out of ingredients yesterday, so it was a full start from scratch. For those of you in the know on Cobb Salads, that means chop city.

I'm pretty handy with a knife, and I must say we keep very high-end ones around the house. A good, well-balanced knife is important, especially when you are doing as much chopping as it takes to make a Cobb.

Since my youth I have had a propensity of damaging myself with sharp objects, so I always have to be extra careful around knives. Last night my mind was many miles away so it probably wasn't the best time to be chopping as it was. Sure enough, I had made it through almost all the ingredients when I decided to get a little cocky with my cucumber slicing. I made it through about four slices when the inevitable happened, right through the tip of my finger.

It's funny, I'm never one to panic, the knife was so sharp I didn't even really feel anything. I just knew. I looked down at the finger for that split second when all still looked fine, then like a spring river it came. Still no panic, but also a REALLY bad time to be out of paper towels. I had no choice, I had just pillaged Linen 'n Things earlier in the day for a well deserved new bath towel set. It ain't new anymore.

I used to have industrial first aid, I was the king of applying pressure, all that other stuff took too long. I have been told many times after the fact that cuts that I had applied pressure to on myself obviously needed stitches. Normally the pressure I was applying was just my other hand. I even went as far once to put hot wax on the cut to seal it so I could go back to what I was doing.

So following my medical checklist I first got the towel and applied pressure. Second on the checklist, I lit a cigarette and took a seat. Within a couple of minutes the new, Twilight Blue towel was looking like a sunrise that a sailor should take warning of. This was not going well. I made a vain attempt to find a band aid I knew I didn't have. I rummaged around in Danny's washroom to no avail. I finally went downstairs where Roman was watching the hockey game. He thankfully found some and I ran back upstairs.

I carefully unwrapped the band aid and had it ready by the sink. I finally took the towel off and quickly realized I was in over my head, there was no pressure or candle that was going to stop this. As quickly as I had walked into my room, I exited. Roman asked how it was, and I was just like "clinic time!!!"

He flipped the phone book open for me and found the Park and Tilford one open until 9. It was about 8:30 at this point. I had found some paper towel in Danny's closet while looking for the band aids and wrapped a bunch of it around my hand as I dashed out the door to my car. I made it there fairly quickly, and thankfully there wasn't a lineup. The paper towel on my hand looked like a large cotton candy by now.

The nurse saw me get out of the car and was holding the door open for me as I came up the walk. So told me to go to the room in the back on left and she would send the doctor straight in.

He came walking in and said the old "let's have a look at this" a phrase I had heard so many times. He held it over the instrument tray and unwrapped the cotton candy. When I had climbed out of the car in front of the clinic I had noticed how the inside of it now resembled a CSI scene (I just want to put in a shameless plug for the detailers at my North Shore dealership who dealt with it today) so I knew it wasn't going to be pretty.

The doctor, and I think this is hilarious said "Say, you don't get nauseous looking at stuff like this do you? Man, that's a lot of blood." I told him I was fine to which he said "Really? that stuff always gets to me. I'll be back in a minute." He seriously went to the washroom, I don't know what for, and I don't want to know.

He came back and wrapped a tourniquet around both my finger and wrist, and then let me sit in his office and watch the hockey game for a minute waiting for the flowing to stop. After he froze it, I got to help him with the stitches, something to do with "an impossible angle". He was a really nice guy, but I don't think I would want this guy in surgery.

So I'm all stitched up now and stuck with them through my Toronto trip. I hate having things on my fingers. Still beats sitting alone in a restaurant though.

During These Tough Economic Times We All Must Learn to Live With a Little Less (Unless You Live in Dubai)

This is the opening ceremony of the new Atlantis Resort on Palm Island in Dubai. Just to put it in perspective for you, that outer ring is more than 11 kilometers long. It's nice to know that not everyone is suffering.

I'm sure when we open the Olympics here they will just hand out a bunch of sparklers.

7 Degrees of Separation

It's that time of year when just like the birds, the mercury heads south for the winter. We have been somewhat lucky lately, it's been a little mild but that will soon change.

With our new "situation" on the patio, that will mean more inside visits than the past. Back when the patio was mostly enclosed I used what we called the sandal index. If it was below 8 Celsius, you couldn't wear sandals anymore. If it was at 1 Celsius or lower, you headed inside (this could be delayed by the consumption of spiced rum.)

Lately it has been hovering around 11 degrees. I figure with the walls out the most that can be tolerated without wind as a factor will be around 4.Those are the 7 degrees of separation before I join my friends that are through the looking glass. Heading quickly toward December, our days are surely numbered. Summer is so far away even though it feels as if it was yesterday.

So I'll get to the point. I know I need to get re-acclimatized to the indoors. I want to a lot of the time, there are people that sit in there that I would like to talk to, but they won't sit outside not that I can blame them. I actually tried last night. I ran into Dan in the washroom. As we were walking out he said "I'm over here" pointing to the side bar. "I'm out here" I said motioning for the patio. I went back out and it looked like it was thinning out pretty quick. I was about to go in when one of the boys showed up, so I put in off for awhile longer.

About an hour later I decided to do a reconnaissance run, sort of dip my toe into the bath water to see where it was at. I have problems with the noise alone when I go inside, it has this white noise type din like that of an aircraft engine. 20 conversations always going on at once. There is no order, your seat has the validity of a prospectors claim in the old Klondike. You go into town to get supplies (go to the can) your stake is gone as soon as you return. I ambled over toward where Dan was. He was sort of blocked off by some imaginary line that I will not cross in a crowd of people. I made some comment of how the collection of people resembled a blood clot, they were all just jammed around this central point. I mumbled a few things about football to Danny, and then plunged into an anxiety attack that made me run straight back for the patio. I think when I do eventually go inside I will have to dress like the Unknown Comic so I can talk and hyperventilate at the same time.

I am just kidding around, but I have always had problems walking into a big crowd and having a conversation. Introversion is my specialty so maybe I can just sit at the fireplace with my back to the wall and just yell things from there. The 7 degrees of separation are getting closer, so to all my inside friends, and there are many, fasten your seat belts, Johnny's coming!!

Somebody Filmed Me Enjoying My Sunday

The Re-Taking of the Patio (Charlie Don't Smoke)

Okay, so it didn't really happen that way. There was loud music, but it was just me approaching in my little mule listening to the appropriate "Hey, Hey, What Can I Do?" on Sirius 12. But common sense did prevail, with the beer bellies around there it would have been more "Battle of the Bulge" over "Apocalypse Now" anyhow.

Thankfully I don't have to worry about the pursuit of the happiness anymore, I can just go right back to my mundane life. Just in time for the weekend!!

I was trying to think of some smart quote I could end this with, but this is all I have.

"Thank you for your support"

-Bartle and Jaymes