Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Urine my seat
I have to relate a story to you that happened to me a couple of days ago, and I’m not going to lie to you, but I suffered just a little bit of trepidation when it came to deciding whether to tell the story or not. Seeing as I’ve taken no qualms with laughing at myself before, I came to the decision that I might as well take the plunge for pure entertainment purposes. So sit back, relax and enjoy my very special C-train ride home.
This occurred last Thursday as I left work early. I tried, oh how I tried to talk myself into being well, but the amount of drippings escaping my nostrils and the bees crawling around on the back of my eyes indicated that I was in no way, shape or form healthy enough to brave the golf lesson that I was supposed to be at in four hours. With a heavy heart I left work around two in the afternoon with prospects of lying in my bed until I felt better. Further thoughts of Nyquil and Neocitrin lured me towards the LRT station, pure will forcing my feet to step one in front of the other in a straightish line. I made it and only had to wait a minute or two for the train to arrive.
Usually I leave the office around 4:30pm, and when I get to the train there’s standing room only. Since it was earlier in the afternoon I hoped dearly that a seat would be available since most people would look unkindly at my lying on the floor. I was in luck! A three seater bench had only one occupant and I was the second one to enter the door of the train. When facing the bench, there was an elderly woman on the right, the gentleman getting on before me took the left leaving the middle for me. I took my place…
However, with my momentum going towards the cushioned seat, I just happened to notice a slight discoloration in the area my buttocks were heading towards. It was too late, though. I was already seated. That’s when I noticed a certain pungent smell, and I recalled that a father had gotten off the train with his two very young daughters before I entered the train. I’ve just sat in someone’s pee, I thought.
I entertained the paradox. Should I get up and expose my soaked bottom to the many, many passengers on the C-train, or do I sit and wait for my stop which is the last on the line? I leaned towards the latter since I could read my book, or attempt to anyway, and take my time putting it away while the rest of the passengers got off the train thus sparing myself a huge amount of embarrassment by not exposing my backside.
I could feel the backs of my legs getting colder.
I didn’t want to reach down and touch my pants; the saving grace being that I hadn’t gotten any urine on my hands. I remembered the gentleman beside me looking at the discoloration before I sat down and quietly cursed him for not warning me before I seated myself. What a great guy he must be! I also did the same with regards to the lady to my left as she could have said something. She was on the train before we were.
Every jostle the train delivered to its passengers caused me to shift from side to side thus giving sections of my pants that were previously moisture free a chance to see what it was like on the underside. I held my book in front of me while I quietly retched.
There were eight stops in total till mine, and I quietly prayed that either the lady or the man beside me would be getting off way before then. That way I could at least slide over to either side and save myself acting like a sponge for a few minutes. I vowed that when I did this I would warn any other passenger who wanted to take a load off their feet. No one deserved this, I thought. Well, maybe the man and woman did for not warning me, but I also told myself that I should always look before I sit. It’s more my fault than anyone else’s. I was sure teaching myself a harsh lesson.
Another bump reminded me of the cold, wet feel on the backside of my legs. I hoped beyond hope that my wallet was safe.
I thought of my car. How was I going to drive my car? I actually entertained the idea of disrobing, taking off my pants before entering my vehicle. I’d rather that than have a child’s urine smelling up the Sunfire on a very hot day. I had my jacket in my bag, so I told myself that I would lay it down as best I could, sit on it and then throw the jacket and my pants in the washer right away once I got home. I promised myself a very long shower, as well.
This sucked!
We pulled into my station, the loud speaker thanking us all for riding Calgary Transit and that this was the final destination. Luck was definitely not on my side as the lady and gentleman did not exit the train until the very last stop. What were the odds? So I slowly closed my book and looked around as people exited to the station. I put my book into my shoulder bag while wishing that this whole thing was just a figment of my over active imagination.
Everyone had gone from my section of the train, so I looked out the window to make sure there wasn’t too much foot traffic at the terminal. Unfortunately, people had also gotten on the train which would soon be heading downtown, so they’d get a good look at my urine soaked bum.
I got up slowly, turned towards the train doors and couldn’t help myself. My left hand reached down to the back of my pants to feel how bad it was. I also contorted myself to get a look.
Nothing!
I was dry! I saw no discoloration, and I felt completely dry. It had all been in my head. I thought of the dark area I saw on the seat before I sat down and just chalked it up to years of use. I thought of the odor I smelt and attributed it to the many different bodies that enter and exit the train each hour. I had completely convinced myself that I had a wet backside, and, as a result, my miserable ride brought on by my miserable condition was made all that more miserable.
What’s the moral? The mind is a powerful thing, but it is also very susceptible to suggestion and flights of fancy. I've booked more air time on those flights than most of my friends combined. What I am not saying, though, is that you don’t need to check where you sit. Always look before you sit! Always! You never know, but someday someone might leave you an unwelcome treat that doesn’t blend well with 100% cotton.
This occurred last Thursday as I left work early. I tried, oh how I tried to talk myself into being well, but the amount of drippings escaping my nostrils and the bees crawling around on the back of my eyes indicated that I was in no way, shape or form healthy enough to brave the golf lesson that I was supposed to be at in four hours. With a heavy heart I left work around two in the afternoon with prospects of lying in my bed until I felt better. Further thoughts of Nyquil and Neocitrin lured me towards the LRT station, pure will forcing my feet to step one in front of the other in a straightish line. I made it and only had to wait a minute or two for the train to arrive.
Usually I leave the office around 4:30pm, and when I get to the train there’s standing room only. Since it was earlier in the afternoon I hoped dearly that a seat would be available since most people would look unkindly at my lying on the floor. I was in luck! A three seater bench had only one occupant and I was the second one to enter the door of the train. When facing the bench, there was an elderly woman on the right, the gentleman getting on before me took the left leaving the middle for me. I took my place…
However, with my momentum going towards the cushioned seat, I just happened to notice a slight discoloration in the area my buttocks were heading towards. It was too late, though. I was already seated. That’s when I noticed a certain pungent smell, and I recalled that a father had gotten off the train with his two very young daughters before I entered the train. I’ve just sat in someone’s pee, I thought.
I entertained the paradox. Should I get up and expose my soaked bottom to the many, many passengers on the C-train, or do I sit and wait for my stop which is the last on the line? I leaned towards the latter since I could read my book, or attempt to anyway, and take my time putting it away while the rest of the passengers got off the train thus sparing myself a huge amount of embarrassment by not exposing my backside.
I could feel the backs of my legs getting colder.
I didn’t want to reach down and touch my pants; the saving grace being that I hadn’t gotten any urine on my hands. I remembered the gentleman beside me looking at the discoloration before I sat down and quietly cursed him for not warning me before I seated myself. What a great guy he must be! I also did the same with regards to the lady to my left as she could have said something. She was on the train before we were.
Every jostle the train delivered to its passengers caused me to shift from side to side thus giving sections of my pants that were previously moisture free a chance to see what it was like on the underside. I held my book in front of me while I quietly retched.
There were eight stops in total till mine, and I quietly prayed that either the lady or the man beside me would be getting off way before then. That way I could at least slide over to either side and save myself acting like a sponge for a few minutes. I vowed that when I did this I would warn any other passenger who wanted to take a load off their feet. No one deserved this, I thought. Well, maybe the man and woman did for not warning me, but I also told myself that I should always look before I sit. It’s more my fault than anyone else’s. I was sure teaching myself a harsh lesson.
Another bump reminded me of the cold, wet feel on the backside of my legs. I hoped beyond hope that my wallet was safe.
I thought of my car. How was I going to drive my car? I actually entertained the idea of disrobing, taking off my pants before entering my vehicle. I’d rather that than have a child’s urine smelling up the Sunfire on a very hot day. I had my jacket in my bag, so I told myself that I would lay it down as best I could, sit on it and then throw the jacket and my pants in the washer right away once I got home. I promised myself a very long shower, as well.
This sucked!
We pulled into my station, the loud speaker thanking us all for riding Calgary Transit and that this was the final destination. Luck was definitely not on my side as the lady and gentleman did not exit the train until the very last stop. What were the odds? So I slowly closed my book and looked around as people exited to the station. I put my book into my shoulder bag while wishing that this whole thing was just a figment of my over active imagination.
Everyone had gone from my section of the train, so I looked out the window to make sure there wasn’t too much foot traffic at the terminal. Unfortunately, people had also gotten on the train which would soon be heading downtown, so they’d get a good look at my urine soaked bum.
I got up slowly, turned towards the train doors and couldn’t help myself. My left hand reached down to the back of my pants to feel how bad it was. I also contorted myself to get a look.
Nothing!
I was dry! I saw no discoloration, and I felt completely dry. It had all been in my head. I thought of the dark area I saw on the seat before I sat down and just chalked it up to years of use. I thought of the odor I smelt and attributed it to the many different bodies that enter and exit the train each hour. I had completely convinced myself that I had a wet backside, and, as a result, my miserable ride brought on by my miserable condition was made all that more miserable.
What’s the moral? The mind is a powerful thing, but it is also very susceptible to suggestion and flights of fancy. I've booked more air time on those flights than most of my friends combined. What I am not saying, though, is that you don’t need to check where you sit. Always look before you sit! Always! You never know, but someday someone might leave you an unwelcome treat that doesn’t blend well with 100% cotton.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Hippo Crispies
We celebrated Michelle’s birthday with an age old tradition. That, obviously, being the one of making a hippopotamus out of Rice Krispy square mix. How does one fashion a hippopotamus out of Rice Krispy square mix? Well, allow me to take you on a trip through the extraordinarily simple process that you too could follow.
First, the ingredients:
50 ml (1/4 cup) margarine or butter
1 package (250 g, about 40) regular marshmallows or 5 cups miniature
2 ml (1/2 tsp) vanilla extract (optional)
1.5 L (6 cups) RICE KRISPIES cereal
Two eager beaver children who can’t stay still due to the fact that they probably need to pee
A temper
First, you must combine the butter and marshmallows into a microwave safe bowl and nuke the ever living crap out of it for two minutes. We chose to use miniature marshmallows due to a need for them later on in the project; we chose to use butter because, well, margarine sucks. When in the microwave, pause after a minute to absolutely ruin a large spoon mixing the butter and marshmallow mess together. It is not pretty! I think I lost my watch in there! Place back in the microwave for the remaining minute, and watch the mess try to achieve cognizance while attempting to flee the bowl. Laugh at its futile attempts mockingly. The last few microwave rays should render it quite dead by the end of the two minutes.
Remove the bowl from the microwave; careful, it’s hot! Whatever you do, do not touch it! Just mix in the Rice Krispies and ruin another spoon. Curse a lot when it gets on your hands. Do not take a swing at your kids! Yet! Still do not touch the mix in the bowl. If you do, you will be spending several precious minutes you could have been using to sleep or watch Lost licking your fingers and washing your hands. You haven’t watched Lost yet? It’s the only gosh didly darn reason to watch tv, for crying out loud! It’s in reruns, so you have plenty of time to catch up right now.
Let the crud cool! Now you can set the two eager beaver children on it. Here, Kristen and Rylee are molding some legs for the hippo to stand on, so if anyone said, “That hippo doesn’t have a leg to stand on,” they’d be wrong!
One of the trickiest aspects of this endeavor is keeping an 8 year olds’ hands out of the mix. You may have to raise your voice quite a bit, apparently, since 8 year olds are very, very hard of hearing. The only thing they seem to listen to is promises of treats or Vegas vacations. I’m not sure why Vegas, but I think it has something to do with the Blue Man Group.
In the end you have a devil hippo just dying to kill you in your sleep.
Kristen seemed very nonchalant about this impending death. I guess she didn’t care because it wasn’t her name that escaped from its lips as I put it in the freezer.
So, after surviving the sleepless night with a chalk circle and various rune symbols placed about my bed, the children and I surprised Michelle on the morning of her birthday with the Rice Krispy hippo.
Thankfully, Rylee got it before it got me. Another close one in the Mohninger household.
The rest of Michelle's birthday consisted of picking up seasons 8 and 9 of Friends courtesy of my mother and father, picking up her present from me (would you like to know what I got her? I bet you would!), a trip to see Barnyard, and rounded off with a trip to the Cheesecake Café. All in all, she said she had a wonderful day.
Oh, we did sit down to watch a movie recommended to us by Shannon. Yes, it’s my male friend with the feminine name again. The movie was about a family’s reunion at Christmas, and the hate they share for one of the bother’s girlfriend. Also, there is some other conflict such as a mother dying of cancer, some broken hearts and the breaking of some pretty expensive high heel shoes. After watching this movie, I can only come to the conclusion that Shannon is, in fact, a girl.
Happy birthday, hunny, and good night!
First, the ingredients:
50 ml (1/4 cup) margarine or butter
1 package (250 g, about 40) regular marshmallows or 5 cups miniature
2 ml (1/2 tsp) vanilla extract (optional)
1.5 L (6 cups) RICE KRISPIES cereal
Two eager beaver children who can’t stay still due to the fact that they probably need to pee
A temper
First, you must combine the butter and marshmallows into a microwave safe bowl and nuke the ever living crap out of it for two minutes. We chose to use miniature marshmallows due to a need for them later on in the project; we chose to use butter because, well, margarine sucks. When in the microwave, pause after a minute to absolutely ruin a large spoon mixing the butter and marshmallow mess together. It is not pretty! I think I lost my watch in there! Place back in the microwave for the remaining minute, and watch the mess try to achieve cognizance while attempting to flee the bowl. Laugh at its futile attempts mockingly. The last few microwave rays should render it quite dead by the end of the two minutes.
Remove the bowl from the microwave; careful, it’s hot! Whatever you do, do not touch it! Just mix in the Rice Krispies and ruin another spoon. Curse a lot when it gets on your hands. Do not take a swing at your kids! Yet! Still do not touch the mix in the bowl. If you do, you will be spending several precious minutes you could have been using to sleep or watch Lost licking your fingers and washing your hands. You haven’t watched Lost yet? It’s the only gosh didly darn reason to watch tv, for crying out loud! It’s in reruns, so you have plenty of time to catch up right now.
Let the crud cool! Now you can set the two eager beaver children on it. Here, Kristen and Rylee are molding some legs for the hippo to stand on, so if anyone said, “That hippo doesn’t have a leg to stand on,” they’d be wrong!
One of the trickiest aspects of this endeavor is keeping an 8 year olds’ hands out of the mix. You may have to raise your voice quite a bit, apparently, since 8 year olds are very, very hard of hearing. The only thing they seem to listen to is promises of treats or Vegas vacations. I’m not sure why Vegas, but I think it has something to do with the Blue Man Group.
In the end you have a devil hippo just dying to kill you in your sleep.
Kristen seemed very nonchalant about this impending death. I guess she didn’t care because it wasn’t her name that escaped from its lips as I put it in the freezer.
So, after surviving the sleepless night with a chalk circle and various rune symbols placed about my bed, the children and I surprised Michelle on the morning of her birthday with the Rice Krispy hippo.
Thankfully, Rylee got it before it got me. Another close one in the Mohninger household.
The rest of Michelle's birthday consisted of picking up seasons 8 and 9 of Friends courtesy of my mother and father, picking up her present from me (would you like to know what I got her? I bet you would!), a trip to see Barnyard, and rounded off with a trip to the Cheesecake Café. All in all, she said she had a wonderful day.
Oh, we did sit down to watch a movie recommended to us by Shannon. Yes, it’s my male friend with the feminine name again. The movie was about a family’s reunion at Christmas, and the hate they share for one of the bother’s girlfriend. Also, there is some other conflict such as a mother dying of cancer, some broken hearts and the breaking of some pretty expensive high heel shoes. After watching this movie, I can only come to the conclusion that Shannon is, in fact, a girl.
Happy birthday, hunny, and good night!
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Head...Stuffed...With Cotton
Ill! So ill! Kids gave me Germans! By the time I'm well again I'll probably have forgotten all about the zoo. I'd update longer but the peepers hurt looking at the screem. Oh Buckleys! Where are you?!?
Monday, August 21, 2006
A very lucky anniversary
Michelle and I celebrate our 13th anniversary today; can you believe it? And although she has taken to not reading my blog because she is actually living the Alberta adventure now, I wanted to use a little of this space to say “Happy anniversary, hunny!”
Now, what does one get for your loved one on anniversary number 13? It’s an obscure number that has been down trodden by superstition and curses alike. Should I get her an 8 ball (the pool ball, you knuckle heads), a black cat, a trip under a ladder? A quick search on the good ol’ world wide web reveals that traditional 13th anniversary gifts have a lace theme. Hmmm. I guess I better leave work early today so I can go and buy some curtains…
Zoo pics will be coming later today, hopefully.
Now, what does one get for your loved one on anniversary number 13? It’s an obscure number that has been down trodden by superstition and curses alike. Should I get her an 8 ball (the pool ball, you knuckle heads), a black cat, a trip under a ladder? A quick search on the good ol’ world wide web reveals that traditional 13th anniversary gifts have a lace theme. Hmmm. I guess I better leave work early today so I can go and buy some curtains…
Zoo pics will be coming later today, hopefully.
Friday, August 18, 2006
The Badlands are good lands
Hey all! I’m back with the latest and greatest of what’s going on in the lives of the Mohningers and those who choose to associate with them. I feel kind of tardy with this entry, but since YouTube was acting up yesterday I didn’t feel it was appropriate to update with out the video I wanted to include. So here goes! Hang on, kids! It may get a little rough ahead.
We were treated to a visit by not only the Porters, but by the Cameron’s as well. As most of you know, the Porters hail from Victoria. The Camerons used to live in Victoria with Steven and Corinn sharing pastoral duties at Highpoint Community Church, but they did something very, very bad and were relocated to Regina, Saskatchewan. Just kidding! The Salvation Army has a policy about moving their pastors around, and it just so happened that the Cameron’s number was pulled. It’s just as well since me and the family just happen to live in an area located between the two families. As an added bonus, Shannon brought along his parents who were great for a laugh and generously watched the kids for us so we could go see Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. GO SEE THAT MOVIE!!! My sides hurt, and I literally shed tears from laughing so hard.
So all three families went to the Badlands in Drumheller, Alberta, to visit the Tyrell Museum. On a personal, pat-myself-on-the-back side note, I am solely responsible for not only getting the Porters somewhere on time, but I got them there a half hour early. Man, I’m good! But, anyway, go to the Badlands we did:
Notice the one of Rylee behind the security barrier? It says a lot about my supreme parenting skills that I decided to take a picture of her before telling her to come back because it wasn’t safe. As we waited for the Camerons to arrive, we decided to lounge around the front of the museum outside. I guess at one point the kids ticked off a raptor or something because I snapped this shot as they were sprinting by:
And I got another one for the "Stupid Signs" section:
Shannon, who's preventing Gideon from going in, was all set to tear off his clothes and jump into the six inch deep pond, but thankfully decency won out, and he kept his shirt on. I believe his posture and expression are saying in this picture, “Duh!” Not only was the water really not deep enough to swim in, and I’m not sure if it comes out that well in this picture, but there was some sort of radioactive froth floating on the surface. Mmmm mmm! That stuff would be so good on Corn Flakes in the morning.
Here are some random pics of all of us in the museum. Nothing happened that resembled the upcoming Ben Stiller movie, but we did have a lot of fun with the kids. They sure could care less that there’s little write-ups beside each display, but the large bones and dinosaurs sure kept their attention for almost five seconds:
This next pic was a request from Michelle. She wanted my best sexy, let's-get-it-on face:
I don't know! Too Jeffrey Dahmer? I'll have to practice in front of the mirror.
The next part is my favorite. Up until recently I had just called this little practical joke my “sneeze joke.” Shannon came up with a better name for it, though. Just watch it first:
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the “Sniper Sneeze!” The unwitting recipient of this quick and uncomfortable jest is Steven. Shannon had seconds prior come up behind me and pulled the same joke. Calmly, and without even a trace of a flinch, I turned to face him and casually said, “That would have been funny if I didn’t invent that joke.” Now, it is true that I didn’t actually invent that joke, but I did bring it into my circle of friends which makes me a sort of ambassador for this joke. Maybe I should have said that I was the one to bring that joke to the people, but I don’t think it has quite the same ring to it. Shannon suggested that I perform the joke on Steven, and after a little rubber arm twisting I agreed to do it. Shannon whipped out his camera and what resulted is above. Steven was a good sport about it and actually watched the video clip on my computer about 4 or 5 times when we got back to my place. Just watch his expression when he thinks that it’s actually my nose mucus landing on his face and neck. Priceless!
Hey! I have an idea! I would like anyone who reads this blog to submit the same crazy joke. Try to catch your friends, enemies or complete strangers off guard with “The Sniper Sneeze.” Just be sure to let them know that it was water after they’ve had time to stew. When I was in the military, I performed this trick on a guy on my ship. He was up and in the showers before I could tell him it was only water. He wouldn’t listen to me. Anyway, go on! Give it a shot!
Finally, before I go to bed, here are some pictures of friends and family under the 50ft tall T-Rex located at the Drumheller information centre. You only have to pay $10 for a family of five to climb up the stairs inside to peer out of its mouth. What a bargain!
And that's it for me! It's almost 12:30am, and we have a trip to the zoo planned tomorrow. I’ll try to get those pictures up sooner than I did these ones.
Oh, I do have an amusing snippet for you that occurred during our viewing of the Calgary Public Library’s copy of The Journey of Natty Gann. At one point during the depression, this little girl named Natty Gann traveled across the United States to be reunited with her father. Along the way, she makes friends with a fellow traveler and a wolf while jumping illegally from train to train.
At one point when the train is stopped, that eras' transit police were searching the boxcars for stowaways when they heard a noise from the one Natty Gann was hiding in. To help Natty avoid being caught, the wolf revealed itself to the cops.
“It’s just a damn dog,” said one of them.
Rylee looked at us, and without a pause said, “Don’t they take damn dogs whoops!”
We have a standing rule in the house that if inappropriate language is repeated, those shows will no longer be an option for our young ones. This time, however, was a very amusing exception. Hopefully she doesn’t capitalize on it, eh?
We were treated to a visit by not only the Porters, but by the Cameron’s as well. As most of you know, the Porters hail from Victoria. The Camerons used to live in Victoria with Steven and Corinn sharing pastoral duties at Highpoint Community Church, but they did something very, very bad and were relocated to Regina, Saskatchewan. Just kidding! The Salvation Army has a policy about moving their pastors around, and it just so happened that the Cameron’s number was pulled. It’s just as well since me and the family just happen to live in an area located between the two families. As an added bonus, Shannon brought along his parents who were great for a laugh and generously watched the kids for us so we could go see Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. GO SEE THAT MOVIE!!! My sides hurt, and I literally shed tears from laughing so hard.
So all three families went to the Badlands in Drumheller, Alberta, to visit the Tyrell Museum. On a personal, pat-myself-on-the-back side note, I am solely responsible for not only getting the Porters somewhere on time, but I got them there a half hour early. Man, I’m good! But, anyway, go to the Badlands we did:
Notice the one of Rylee behind the security barrier? It says a lot about my supreme parenting skills that I decided to take a picture of her before telling her to come back because it wasn’t safe. As we waited for the Camerons to arrive, we decided to lounge around the front of the museum outside. I guess at one point the kids ticked off a raptor or something because I snapped this shot as they were sprinting by:
And I got another one for the "Stupid Signs" section:
Shannon, who's preventing Gideon from going in, was all set to tear off his clothes and jump into the six inch deep pond, but thankfully decency won out, and he kept his shirt on. I believe his posture and expression are saying in this picture, “Duh!” Not only was the water really not deep enough to swim in, and I’m not sure if it comes out that well in this picture, but there was some sort of radioactive froth floating on the surface. Mmmm mmm! That stuff would be so good on Corn Flakes in the morning.
Here are some random pics of all of us in the museum. Nothing happened that resembled the upcoming Ben Stiller movie, but we did have a lot of fun with the kids. They sure could care less that there’s little write-ups beside each display, but the large bones and dinosaurs sure kept their attention for almost five seconds:
This next pic was a request from Michelle. She wanted my best sexy, let's-get-it-on face:
I don't know! Too Jeffrey Dahmer? I'll have to practice in front of the mirror.
The next part is my favorite. Up until recently I had just called this little practical joke my “sneeze joke.” Shannon came up with a better name for it, though. Just watch it first:
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the “Sniper Sneeze!” The unwitting recipient of this quick and uncomfortable jest is Steven. Shannon had seconds prior come up behind me and pulled the same joke. Calmly, and without even a trace of a flinch, I turned to face him and casually said, “That would have been funny if I didn’t invent that joke.” Now, it is true that I didn’t actually invent that joke, but I did bring it into my circle of friends which makes me a sort of ambassador for this joke. Maybe I should have said that I was the one to bring that joke to the people, but I don’t think it has quite the same ring to it. Shannon suggested that I perform the joke on Steven, and after a little rubber arm twisting I agreed to do it. Shannon whipped out his camera and what resulted is above. Steven was a good sport about it and actually watched the video clip on my computer about 4 or 5 times when we got back to my place. Just watch his expression when he thinks that it’s actually my nose mucus landing on his face and neck. Priceless!
Hey! I have an idea! I would like anyone who reads this blog to submit the same crazy joke. Try to catch your friends, enemies or complete strangers off guard with “The Sniper Sneeze.” Just be sure to let them know that it was water after they’ve had time to stew. When I was in the military, I performed this trick on a guy on my ship. He was up and in the showers before I could tell him it was only water. He wouldn’t listen to me. Anyway, go on! Give it a shot!
Finally, before I go to bed, here are some pictures of friends and family under the 50ft tall T-Rex located at the Drumheller information centre. You only have to pay $10 for a family of five to climb up the stairs inside to peer out of its mouth. What a bargain!
And that's it for me! It's almost 12:30am, and we have a trip to the zoo planned tomorrow. I’ll try to get those pictures up sooner than I did these ones.
Oh, I do have an amusing snippet for you that occurred during our viewing of the Calgary Public Library’s copy of The Journey of Natty Gann. At one point during the depression, this little girl named Natty Gann traveled across the United States to be reunited with her father. Along the way, she makes friends with a fellow traveler and a wolf while jumping illegally from train to train.
At one point when the train is stopped, that eras' transit police were searching the boxcars for stowaways when they heard a noise from the one Natty Gann was hiding in. To help Natty avoid being caught, the wolf revealed itself to the cops.
“It’s just a damn dog,” said one of them.
Rylee looked at us, and without a pause said, “Don’t they take damn dogs whoops!”
We have a standing rule in the house that if inappropriate language is repeated, those shows will no longer be an option for our young ones. This time, however, was a very amusing exception. Hopefully she doesn’t capitalize on it, eh?
Monday, August 14, 2006
There’s a mall in the West of Edmonton
Did you know that? Well, there is! And apparently it’s a pretty well know one, too!
Upon reflection, and hindsight being 20-20 and all, we probably should have visited Edmonton’s main wonder on the Monday as opposed to the Sunday. Reason being is that on Monday everything in the mall is open from 10am to 9pm while on Sunday the bulk of our mall visit was eaten up by the World Water Park since it was only open from 11am to 6pm. Oh well! Live and learn. Live and learn.
We left our home at approximately 7:30am but really didn’t get out of Calgary till 8am. That worked out just perfectly since we got to the mall at 10:30am and the water park opened in a half hour. What follows is video and photographs taken from our short visit. Next time will be longer since we didn’t even put a dent in what they have there. It’s all expensive, of course, but there is a nice man at every mall entrance willing to take your credit card and debit card so as to max out the balance and empty out you account with out the effort of having to walk the miles and miles this place stretches out over. At least I think that was part of the mall service; I’d hate to think I was being scammed.
Like I stated above, we mostly stayed at the World Water Park. Here's proof:
Behind these two lovelies is one of the biggest wave pools that I have ever been to. We enjoyed mass amounts of body surfing, the waves being strong enough to even shift my slightly overweight bulk a certain distance.
We had arrived before the park even opened, so when we were allowed in, it wasn’t too busy. However, as the day went on there were more and more bodies jamming up the pool, and a large percentage of them had rented these personal inner tubes to sit and relax on. I personally wanted to swim under all these things with a pin. These people, young and old, really pi--! Really, uh, grinded my gears! When a body is in a current they can control them selves with these God given appendages that, er, God gave them. However, when you’re sitting your lazy bulk in an inner tube and a wave shifts you towards shore, you tend to have an amount of control equivalent to a jellyfish’s control over any piece of heavy machinery on a construction site. None! As a result, small children get run over by fat, useless people. Am I a little harsh? Maybe! But I’d love to give these people a little taste of what it’s like to fear drowning like some of the small children I saw pinned under those stupid yellow tubes. Kristen got run over by one, but instead of being pinned under water she suffered a small bump to the shoulder. She swam it off; what a soldier.
Which brings me to another beef: the World Water Park is understaffed. As a result, certain slides were open while others were not. This was because the lack of supervising staff meant that all of the slides couldn’t be manned. Meaning that there wasn’t enough lifeguards to ensure that small children weren’t almost drowned by lazy, inner-tube riding mouth-breathers. Does the park give anything pack to the consumer for patronizing their establishment? No! I guess they don’t need to with how busy it was, but I’m guessing that all the patrons had no idea they were going to be held up in lines and kept off of certain attractions due to staff shortages. It’s a guess, but I’d bet on being right. Regardless, the kids had fun:
The left one is of Rylee and Gabrielle. I did mention that we met the Porters at the park, didn't I? Whoa, I guess I didn’t. Well, we did! I guess I also need to mention that if you click on any photo you’ll be taken to my flickr page. Just click “all sizes” above the picture, and you’ll be treated to an extra large and very detailed version of that picture. Cool, eh? And just for the record, Rylee is not drowning in that picture. She is an “A” grade swimmer and loves the water. The right photo shows Kristen in all her professionalism when it comes to swimming. Just today she was made to swim 60 lengths in her lesson which is equivalent to a kilometer. She truly wants to be a junior lifeguard.
By the way, I faced one of my biggest fears at the World Water Park on Sunday. That being the fear of falling to my death on a very tall, very fast water slide. Now I know the following video may frighten some of my readers, and some of you with weak stomachs may, in fact, feel queasy if not outright nauseated after viewing it, but all I can say is, “I’m sorry!” I have let myself go in the past few months, so my slightly overweight physique combined with my pasty white skin minus the well tanned back of my neck and forearms makes for a chilling sight. Keeping that in mind, I ask you to view the video below:
In case it doesn’t come out clearly in audio, I am saying, “I kept my eyes open!” That was actually the second time I went down The Sky Screamer. The first time my heart was racing and for some odd reason my eyes glued shut as soon as I started to drop. Sitting on the ledge of that thing is like sitting on the ledge of a cliff except if you push yourself off the ledge of a cliff you will die. I will have to remind myself of this fact the next time I find myself sitting on the ledge of a cliff.
We decided to end our water park visit around 4:30pm so we could still have an hour in the mall after we changed. However, before we could even make it to the shopping levels, Gabrielle and Rylee were attracted to a interactive bungy trampoline exhibit. So while they were waiting to suit up, I snapped a couple of photos:
The orientation of these pictures actually works out pretty well as Kristen is up one level smiling down at Gabrielle and Rylee as they get ready for this fascinating feat of fun and flying. I also got a cute picture of Michelle and Catherine. Wow! You’d almost think they liked each other or something:
Catherine was eating something at the time, so that’s the best smile I could coax out of her. She said she almost choked holding that pose. I’m glad I only made her do it twice. Gabrielle and Rylee had to be affixed to two sets of bungies thus this rigging:
The ham poses were no extra charge for this ten dollars for ten minutes event. Want some video? I got some video! Here’s Gabby:
And here’s Rylee:
Afterwards, Rylee and I tooled around Galaxyland, West Ed’s indoor theme park, while Michelle and Kristen went shopping. Rylee was really timid when it came to waterslides and rides for some reason, which was also pointed out by many who were with us. It was very perplexing. Kristen, however, tried almost everything; she was a real trooper. I hope to get to the bottom of this Rylee mystery, but until them it will remain, er, a mystery still.
Two other photos we took:
The one on the left was pre-mall and is just about the coolest limousine I have ever seen. A hummer limo! Wow! Unfortunately when I was naming the photo file name I hit the “p” instead of the “o” so it is now called “hummer limp.” Many people may interpret that in a strange way. The photo on the right is of West Ed’s very own live flamingo display. Why’s that cool? ‘cause their flamingos. In a mall. Their pink. Kristen likes ‘em. Go away!
Which brings us to the section of my blog which I will entitle “STUPID SIGNS!” The first was a sign at the entrance to the bungy trampoline thingy:
Did you read it? Are you sure? I quote: If you are pregnant or have any other physical or medical problems.” Am I reading that right or did they just say that pregnancy was physical or medical problem. I could just see the reaction on the mother-to-be’s face when the doctor informs her that she is suffering from a medical problem know as pregnancy. But truly, this sign is genius compared to the sign on the back of one of those rental baby buggies that Shannon rented to push Gideon around:
Well thank you Captain Obvious! Holy crap! If a parent actually put their child in that bag they should be sterilized and their children should be set free to roam in the wild because they’d have a better chance at survival there than in the care of their mentally challenged guardians.
I regret not taking a picture of the sign that Michelle saw as we came back into Calgary. We were passing over a bridge that was the subject of some construction when Michelle read a sign stating, “Caution! Do not jump over hand rail.” Really? I shouldn’t jump over the handrail into the vehicle traffic traveling at 100+ kilometers an hour below? Why? The gene pool will thank all those who ignore such a sign.
On the way back to Calgary after bidding a fond farewell to the Porters, we stopped in Red Deer for gas, food and aluminum statues. Gas was $1.13/litre there, but when I stopped at the pump I noticed that regular was on for $1.17/litre. I just assumed it was one of those ridiculous promotions that those stations do where they jack up the price by a certain amount and then take it off at the till thus making the consumer believe they just got a deal. They must think that the average consumer is brain dead, but seeing as we rely on their fuel anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it. So I filled up the van and washed about a billion dead bugs off my windshield. As I was just finishing, a guy in a Shell Gas golf shirt came up to me and said hello. Then it dawned on me: I was at the full serve pump not the self serve. This kids confirmed as such, and I asked him if he was going to charge me full price. He seemed like he was going to, but I guilted him a little more by saying, “I just did your job for you!” He ended up taking off four bucks from the end price which actually got me down to $1.10/litre. It’s sad that I think that’s a deal now.
Before we left Red Deer, we had to check out these statues:
These were great! They’re made out of recycled aluminum which is melted down and poured into several different castings. You can visit Brian’s site at Metal Sculptures to see what else he’s made. A lot of wishes were fulfilled with this little visit:
1.Kristen got to ride a horse
2.Michelle got to ride a hippo
3.Rylee got to ham it up like her dad on a Rhyno
4.And seeing as I was so jealous that the kid’s got attacked by a bear on our Creston trip, I got to fulfill my wish likewise.
Well, that’s it for now. If you got to the end of this very lengthy entry then you will know that the secret word is “fatuous” and that you should bite your thumb the next time you see me if you want a sprinkle of pixie dust. Au revoir for now.
Upon reflection, and hindsight being 20-20 and all, we probably should have visited Edmonton’s main wonder on the Monday as opposed to the Sunday. Reason being is that on Monday everything in the mall is open from 10am to 9pm while on Sunday the bulk of our mall visit was eaten up by the World Water Park since it was only open from 11am to 6pm. Oh well! Live and learn. Live and learn.
We left our home at approximately 7:30am but really didn’t get out of Calgary till 8am. That worked out just perfectly since we got to the mall at 10:30am and the water park opened in a half hour. What follows is video and photographs taken from our short visit. Next time will be longer since we didn’t even put a dent in what they have there. It’s all expensive, of course, but there is a nice man at every mall entrance willing to take your credit card and debit card so as to max out the balance and empty out you account with out the effort of having to walk the miles and miles this place stretches out over. At least I think that was part of the mall service; I’d hate to think I was being scammed.
Like I stated above, we mostly stayed at the World Water Park. Here's proof:
Behind these two lovelies is one of the biggest wave pools that I have ever been to. We enjoyed mass amounts of body surfing, the waves being strong enough to even shift my slightly overweight bulk a certain distance.
We had arrived before the park even opened, so when we were allowed in, it wasn’t too busy. However, as the day went on there were more and more bodies jamming up the pool, and a large percentage of them had rented these personal inner tubes to sit and relax on. I personally wanted to swim under all these things with a pin. These people, young and old, really pi--! Really, uh, grinded my gears! When a body is in a current they can control them selves with these God given appendages that, er, God gave them. However, when you’re sitting your lazy bulk in an inner tube and a wave shifts you towards shore, you tend to have an amount of control equivalent to a jellyfish’s control over any piece of heavy machinery on a construction site. None! As a result, small children get run over by fat, useless people. Am I a little harsh? Maybe! But I’d love to give these people a little taste of what it’s like to fear drowning like some of the small children I saw pinned under those stupid yellow tubes. Kristen got run over by one, but instead of being pinned under water she suffered a small bump to the shoulder. She swam it off; what a soldier.
Which brings me to another beef: the World Water Park is understaffed. As a result, certain slides were open while others were not. This was because the lack of supervising staff meant that all of the slides couldn’t be manned. Meaning that there wasn’t enough lifeguards to ensure that small children weren’t almost drowned by lazy, inner-tube riding mouth-breathers. Does the park give anything pack to the consumer for patronizing their establishment? No! I guess they don’t need to with how busy it was, but I’m guessing that all the patrons had no idea they were going to be held up in lines and kept off of certain attractions due to staff shortages. It’s a guess, but I’d bet on being right. Regardless, the kids had fun:
The left one is of Rylee and Gabrielle. I did mention that we met the Porters at the park, didn't I? Whoa, I guess I didn’t. Well, we did! I guess I also need to mention that if you click on any photo you’ll be taken to my flickr page. Just click “all sizes” above the picture, and you’ll be treated to an extra large and very detailed version of that picture. Cool, eh? And just for the record, Rylee is not drowning in that picture. She is an “A” grade swimmer and loves the water. The right photo shows Kristen in all her professionalism when it comes to swimming. Just today she was made to swim 60 lengths in her lesson which is equivalent to a kilometer. She truly wants to be a junior lifeguard.
By the way, I faced one of my biggest fears at the World Water Park on Sunday. That being the fear of falling to my death on a very tall, very fast water slide. Now I know the following video may frighten some of my readers, and some of you with weak stomachs may, in fact, feel queasy if not outright nauseated after viewing it, but all I can say is, “I’m sorry!” I have let myself go in the past few months, so my slightly overweight physique combined with my pasty white skin minus the well tanned back of my neck and forearms makes for a chilling sight. Keeping that in mind, I ask you to view the video below:
In case it doesn’t come out clearly in audio, I am saying, “I kept my eyes open!” That was actually the second time I went down The Sky Screamer. The first time my heart was racing and for some odd reason my eyes glued shut as soon as I started to drop. Sitting on the ledge of that thing is like sitting on the ledge of a cliff except if you push yourself off the ledge of a cliff you will die. I will have to remind myself of this fact the next time I find myself sitting on the ledge of a cliff.
We decided to end our water park visit around 4:30pm so we could still have an hour in the mall after we changed. However, before we could even make it to the shopping levels, Gabrielle and Rylee were attracted to a interactive bungy trampoline exhibit. So while they were waiting to suit up, I snapped a couple of photos:
The orientation of these pictures actually works out pretty well as Kristen is up one level smiling down at Gabrielle and Rylee as they get ready for this fascinating feat of fun and flying. I also got a cute picture of Michelle and Catherine. Wow! You’d almost think they liked each other or something:
Catherine was eating something at the time, so that’s the best smile I could coax out of her. She said she almost choked holding that pose. I’m glad I only made her do it twice. Gabrielle and Rylee had to be affixed to two sets of bungies thus this rigging:
The ham poses were no extra charge for this ten dollars for ten minutes event. Want some video? I got some video! Here’s Gabby:
And here’s Rylee:
Afterwards, Rylee and I tooled around Galaxyland, West Ed’s indoor theme park, while Michelle and Kristen went shopping. Rylee was really timid when it came to waterslides and rides for some reason, which was also pointed out by many who were with us. It was very perplexing. Kristen, however, tried almost everything; she was a real trooper. I hope to get to the bottom of this Rylee mystery, but until them it will remain, er, a mystery still.
Two other photos we took:
The one on the left was pre-mall and is just about the coolest limousine I have ever seen. A hummer limo! Wow! Unfortunately when I was naming the photo file name I hit the “p” instead of the “o” so it is now called “hummer limp.” Many people may interpret that in a strange way. The photo on the right is of West Ed’s very own live flamingo display. Why’s that cool? ‘cause their flamingos. In a mall. Their pink. Kristen likes ‘em. Go away!
Which brings us to the section of my blog which I will entitle “STUPID SIGNS!” The first was a sign at the entrance to the bungy trampoline thingy:
Did you read it? Are you sure? I quote: If you are pregnant or have any other physical or medical problems.” Am I reading that right or did they just say that pregnancy was physical or medical problem. I could just see the reaction on the mother-to-be’s face when the doctor informs her that she is suffering from a medical problem know as pregnancy. But truly, this sign is genius compared to the sign on the back of one of those rental baby buggies that Shannon rented to push Gideon around:
Well thank you Captain Obvious! Holy crap! If a parent actually put their child in that bag they should be sterilized and their children should be set free to roam in the wild because they’d have a better chance at survival there than in the care of their mentally challenged guardians.
I regret not taking a picture of the sign that Michelle saw as we came back into Calgary. We were passing over a bridge that was the subject of some construction when Michelle read a sign stating, “Caution! Do not jump over hand rail.” Really? I shouldn’t jump over the handrail into the vehicle traffic traveling at 100+ kilometers an hour below? Why? The gene pool will thank all those who ignore such a sign.
On the way back to Calgary after bidding a fond farewell to the Porters, we stopped in Red Deer for gas, food and aluminum statues. Gas was $1.13/litre there, but when I stopped at the pump I noticed that regular was on for $1.17/litre. I just assumed it was one of those ridiculous promotions that those stations do where they jack up the price by a certain amount and then take it off at the till thus making the consumer believe they just got a deal. They must think that the average consumer is brain dead, but seeing as we rely on their fuel anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it. So I filled up the van and washed about a billion dead bugs off my windshield. As I was just finishing, a guy in a Shell Gas golf shirt came up to me and said hello. Then it dawned on me: I was at the full serve pump not the self serve. This kids confirmed as such, and I asked him if he was going to charge me full price. He seemed like he was going to, but I guilted him a little more by saying, “I just did your job for you!” He ended up taking off four bucks from the end price which actually got me down to $1.10/litre. It’s sad that I think that’s a deal now.
Before we left Red Deer, we had to check out these statues:
These were great! They’re made out of recycled aluminum which is melted down and poured into several different castings. You can visit Brian’s site at Metal Sculptures to see what else he’s made. A lot of wishes were fulfilled with this little visit:
1.Kristen got to ride a horse
2.Michelle got to ride a hippo
3.Rylee got to ham it up like her dad on a Rhyno
4.And seeing as I was so jealous that the kid’s got attacked by a bear on our Creston trip, I got to fulfill my wish likewise.
Well, that’s it for now. If you got to the end of this very lengthy entry then you will know that the secret word is “fatuous” and that you should bite your thumb the next time you see me if you want a sprinkle of pixie dust. Au revoir for now.
Friday, August 11, 2006
My weekend is looooooong again!
The Porters are coming! The Porters are coming! Yaaaaaaay!
This weekend I have taken a couple of my vacation days...What? You guys didn't get vacation days when you first started a job? Well, they forced them on me! Honest! I was just like, "hey," and they were like, "yer hired," and I was like, "cool," and they were like, "go on vacation!" Um, okay, sure. So on vacation I am going. Not too far, though. Just to the next city for a day to visit their ginormous mall and visit the Porters whom will join us back in Calgary in the following day or two. So last weekend was a four day, this weekend is a five day so I think next weekend I'll just stop going into work for about a month.
I wanted to try something artistic, so I took the photo below and did a little trace of it.
What a mug on that guy, eh? One thing I've noticed since wielding this wonderful piece of equipment called "MY DIGITAL CAMERA" is that many things get photographed, many people get photographed and many photographs are taken. However, not a lot of photographs are taken of the photographer. Thus, I believe I took this picture of myself at our '06 New Years party. Yes, I know. If you take a picture of yourself you look like a half angry, half bemused monkey man. I think that was what I was going for.
I wanted to try something psychedelic. Actually, my first intention was to get rid of that out dated profile picture because it's out of date, and that was during a blissful time when my scalp put forth many strands of wonderfully unmanageable hair. Michelle told me today that she loved my hair like that. I guess I could style my back hair that way, but I'm pretty sure the same affect would be lost on her. Any who, below is my masterpiece:
What do you think? I think I come off a little agrier than I wanted too, but I get an over all Philip K. Dick feel from it, so I thought I'd share it anyway. Oh, and I gotta say: those are some huge nostrils I'm sporting. Guess I should of never started picking my nose with my thumbs.
This weekend I have taken a couple of my vacation days...What? You guys didn't get vacation days when you first started a job? Well, they forced them on me! Honest! I was just like, "hey," and they were like, "yer hired," and I was like, "cool," and they were like, "go on vacation!" Um, okay, sure. So on vacation I am going. Not too far, though. Just to the next city for a day to visit their ginormous mall and visit the Porters whom will join us back in Calgary in the following day or two. So last weekend was a four day, this weekend is a five day so I think next weekend I'll just stop going into work for about a month.
I wanted to try something artistic, so I took the photo below and did a little trace of it.
What a mug on that guy, eh? One thing I've noticed since wielding this wonderful piece of equipment called "MY DIGITAL CAMERA" is that many things get photographed, many people get photographed and many photographs are taken. However, not a lot of photographs are taken of the photographer. Thus, I believe I took this picture of myself at our '06 New Years party. Yes, I know. If you take a picture of yourself you look like a half angry, half bemused monkey man. I think that was what I was going for.
I wanted to try something psychedelic. Actually, my first intention was to get rid of that out dated profile picture because it's out of date, and that was during a blissful time when my scalp put forth many strands of wonderfully unmanageable hair. Michelle told me today that she loved my hair like that. I guess I could style my back hair that way, but I'm pretty sure the same affect would be lost on her. Any who, below is my masterpiece:
What do you think? I think I come off a little agrier than I wanted too, but I get an over all Philip K. Dick feel from it, so I thought I'd share it anyway. Oh, and I gotta say: those are some huge nostrils I'm sporting. Guess I should of never started picking my nose with my thumbs.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
12 steps to a good night's sleep
By Derek Mohninger
First, I guess I should mention that I went through and fixed a few of the obvious grammatical and spelling mistakes from my previous post which means it's just as bad but more flamboyant. I guess I was getting a little morose at the end there for which I apologize to all my fan out there. No, I didn't forget the "s."
As I mentioned in the title, I'm going to tell you how to get a good night's sleep in 12 easy steps:
1. Make sure you had a really bad sleep the night before. I'm talking about the kind of sleep where you lie in bed wondering why the heck, even though you have your eyes closed, you don't feel the least bit tired. What a rip, right? But this 24 hour period sans any rem sleep will guarantee that work sucks and sucks hard.
2. Come home and try to put as much of a 500 piece puzzle together at the chiding and begging of your sadistic 8 year old. I'm sure she's not really sadistic, but she kept saying "my precious" under her breath a lot. Managed only to get all four corners started, too, before I remembered I wanted to post that previous blog entry.
3. Ask your wife at 9pm if she minds if you go to bed. Going to bed early means that you don't get to help put the kids to bed, and although they brush their teeth themselves and put their own pajamas on, your wife still seems to express that this event is somewhat of a chore. Actually, with Rylee it can be. You feel like relating the fact that being up at 5:30am while she wakes up at 7 or 8am should allow you a little leeway in the scheduling of you sleep time, but you're too tired, so you just grunt something, kiss the girls good night and go prepare for bed.
4. I hate flossing!
5. Sleep.
6. Wake up at 12:30am to the sounds of a huge explosion. It's Armageddon and you're expecting a fiery asteroid to come crashing through the window. Calm down! It was just thunder. You can go back to sleep now...
7....Wait! You left the window on the van open! There wasn't supposed to be any rain tonight! Should you chance it? Aw, crap! You call your wife's name, somehow rationalizing that she should be the one to go close the window. After you repeat her name a couple of times with no answer you reach over to gently shake her only to find a much smaller human beside you. That's not your wife! It's Rylee!
8. Rain starts to fall outside. You wrestle with your shorts and pull a t-shirt on inside out, heading towards the front door. On the way you scold yourself for thinking that your wife should be the one to head outside since it was you who left the window open in the first place. You get outside and it really starts to pour. Fiddling with the window, you realize that you can't close it because it's one of those angular pop-out windows and you've forgotten the keys inside. You are now drenched.
9. Get the keys, go back outside and close the window. Seek the warmth of your house. You might as well have been swimming in your clothes.
10. Go to the bathroom.
11. Lie down in bed and realize that you can't hear the rain anymore. It has stopped.
12. Cry yourself back to sleep.
There you go! If you follow these 12 simple steps you'll have the courage to slap Tony Little in his smug face while the pink giraffe king orders you to polka with his daughter a mere 70 more times. Blaaaaaaaaaah!
First, I guess I should mention that I went through and fixed a few of the obvious grammatical and spelling mistakes from my previous post which means it's just as bad but more flamboyant. I guess I was getting a little morose at the end there for which I apologize to all my fan out there. No, I didn't forget the "s."
As I mentioned in the title, I'm going to tell you how to get a good night's sleep in 12 easy steps:
1. Make sure you had a really bad sleep the night before. I'm talking about the kind of sleep where you lie in bed wondering why the heck, even though you have your eyes closed, you don't feel the least bit tired. What a rip, right? But this 24 hour period sans any rem sleep will guarantee that work sucks and sucks hard.
2. Come home and try to put as much of a 500 piece puzzle together at the chiding and begging of your sadistic 8 year old. I'm sure she's not really sadistic, but she kept saying "my precious" under her breath a lot. Managed only to get all four corners started, too, before I remembered I wanted to post that previous blog entry.
3. Ask your wife at 9pm if she minds if you go to bed. Going to bed early means that you don't get to help put the kids to bed, and although they brush their teeth themselves and put their own pajamas on, your wife still seems to express that this event is somewhat of a chore. Actually, with Rylee it can be. You feel like relating the fact that being up at 5:30am while she wakes up at 7 or 8am should allow you a little leeway in the scheduling of you sleep time, but you're too tired, so you just grunt something, kiss the girls good night and go prepare for bed.
4. I hate flossing!
5. Sleep.
6. Wake up at 12:30am to the sounds of a huge explosion. It's Armageddon and you're expecting a fiery asteroid to come crashing through the window. Calm down! It was just thunder. You can go back to sleep now...
7....Wait! You left the window on the van open! There wasn't supposed to be any rain tonight! Should you chance it? Aw, crap! You call your wife's name, somehow rationalizing that she should be the one to go close the window. After you repeat her name a couple of times with no answer you reach over to gently shake her only to find a much smaller human beside you. That's not your wife! It's Rylee!
8. Rain starts to fall outside. You wrestle with your shorts and pull a t-shirt on inside out, heading towards the front door. On the way you scold yourself for thinking that your wife should be the one to head outside since it was you who left the window open in the first place. You get outside and it really starts to pour. Fiddling with the window, you realize that you can't close it because it's one of those angular pop-out windows and you've forgotten the keys inside. You are now drenched.
9. Get the keys, go back outside and close the window. Seek the warmth of your house. You might as well have been swimming in your clothes.
10. Go to the bathroom.
11. Lie down in bed and realize that you can't hear the rain anymore. It has stopped.
12. Cry yourself back to sleep.
There you go! If you follow these 12 simple steps you'll have the courage to slap Tony Little in his smug face while the pink giraffe king orders you to polka with his daughter a mere 70 more times. Blaaaaaaaaaah!
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
What a pic-tacular 4-day weekend!
I managed to slip out of work a little early to beat all that rush hour traffic that is associated with a city of a million plus people, and the plan was going perfectly. We were way out of Longview on Highway 22, just five minutes from the Highway 3 junction which would take us to Creston in the Kootenays, when Michelle and I looked at each other simultaneously as I said, do you hear something? FLOOM! No, it wasn’t a “boom” noise as it was a more squishy, not quite filled with air type of busting noise. Regardless, I wrestled control of our minivan and managed to pull over to the miniscule shoulder, stepped out of the van and saw this:
The second picture, the one on the right, shows that the tire tread managed to stay on, actually acting like an onion wring on a finger where the finger is my axel and the onion wring is my lost hopes of reaching Creston in record time. The funny and ironic thing, and by funny I mean “tear-inducing”, is that Michelle pointed out quite a few pieces of tire on the way to the spot where the fan decided to have a rest. She asked how that occurred, and I casually mentioned that most of the time it was due to the large truck, semis, with dualies, those are the side by side tires you see on semis, tractors and trucks owned by red necks, where one of the dualies has become flat, but the driver keeps driving. As a result, the tire literally explodes from the excess wear and tear it receives as a lack of proper pressure. Apparently it can also happen to nincompoops driving minivans, as well.
A situation like this can’t get anymore perfect, let me tell you. Oh, wait! It can! It just so happens that this blowout, and this was definitely a blowout, occurred at the most excellent tome of the day where everyone in the small towns between Calgary and Creston closes shop for the day and has a siesta. There was no one open in Crowsnest, and I wasn’t about to double back to Longview, and there wasn’t even any point in going to Lundbreck That town has a population of 234 according to a little poking around on the internet. I heard that all of them feast on wayward travelers force to stay the night due to vehicle troubles and bad weather; I wasn’t about to take any chances (just kidding Lundbreck).
So, hopping along on the spare, or “donut” as some motor enthusiasts like to call it, we passed through Frank Slide. You should really follow that link and read the story about the town of Frank and the little known but Earth shattering devastation that occurred there. It's a quick read but gripping.
I’ll probably take some pictures of it on the way through next time, but for now you should just do a quick search on Google to see the tonnes of rock that came down on the town of Frank.
I tried to explain to Rylee about the tragedy that happened there, and for the most part I was successful. However, she just couldn’t get over the fact that the town was named Frank. She kept asking if Frank survived the rock slide which goes to show how much she listens to me. I explained the Frank Slide to Kristen when we moved from Victoria, and she just accepted it in stride.
So we hobbled all the way to Creston because not a single tire place was open. We made it to Cranbrook a little after 9pn, but Canadian Tire had just closed, and the Walmart Service Centre hadn’t been open for an hour. So we made it to Creston on that cute little Barbie tire. The owner’s manual said that the spare was good for 60mph and 3000 miles which is a heck of a lot better than most spares I’ve had before. Most said not to go over 60 kpm and a distance of 60 kilometres.
The rest of the weekend was fabulous. We spent the first day at my parent’s place. During the day I hung out with my pop, Walter and Orin on the golf course, but seeing as I can’t play I just got to drive the cart around. That was pretty fun in itself because those little electric numbers seem to be able to go pretty fast. I kept worrying about damaging it though because it wasn’t mine; it was Walt’s.
While I was at the course, Michelle managed to snap a few pictures:
The above one is some sort of fancy cheese stick party that was too good for the likes of dad and I as we weren't invited. Below is a rare cooperative moment that involved gluing the children in place. The adhesive eventually wore off in time for bed:
Saturday evening was spent over at my sister's new house, and we had a little pizza party. Wendy has settled into her place pretty quickly as I noticed she had more pictures up on her wall than mom and dad did. She has the same view of the mountains that my parents previously did in their old house. One of our conversations:
Derek: Did you know you had mountains back here?
Wendy: Is that what they are?
Derek: Well, they’re not mole hills.
Wendy: I hear some people try to make mountains out of those.
Ah! Good times! Good times! Later on in the evening she was relating to me a tiresome quality she found in children. That is, the lack in quality of their hearing which I just ascribe to selectively blocking out certain adult voices so children can do what they want.
Wendy: Your daughter had a box of apple juice downstairs and was trying to feed it to your dog. The conversation went something like:
Rylee: Here Lilly!
Wendy: I don’t think Lilly wants any, Rylee.
Rylee: Here you go, Lilly.
Wendy: Rylee, she doesn’t need that!
Rylee: C’mon Lilly, have a sip.
Wendy: Rylee, Rylee, Rylee!
More good times!
The next day we went to a swimming hole that was part of the river going through Creston. Is it the Kootaney River? I don’t know! All I know is that the river that was flowing was cold and that the sectioned off swimming hole was warm. As a result, more pictures were taken:
I love Kyle’s Hulkster pose, brutha’!
We also managed to take in a walk in the nature sanctuary, and by nature sanctuary I mean “swamp.” Nothing spectacular out there that beat the nature hut although a sign said that a black bear had been spotted in the neighborhood recently. My biggest regret is not getting a photo of the turtle crossing sign. Next time, I guess. The guide:
…on the back of which were points of interest. One point of interest, I think it was point number 4 or 5, was entitled “annoying females.” I quickly scanned the swamp for some of my ex-girlfriends, but upon further reading discovered that it was actually referring to female mosquitoes. A widely known fact that the female mosquito is the only one of the species that bites. A little known fact is that the Creston nature preserve is so hard up for exhibits that it includes mosquitoes as one of them. These pictures resulted from that little excursion:
Believe it or not, Wendy’s actually smiling in that picture. However, she’s cleverly disguising it as disdain for my taking her picture. We also went to the nature hut where the kids were attacked by a bear and Rylee hugged an ugly duckling:
I like these photos:
When transferring the pictures to the computer, I noticed that Michelle had taken about 5 or 6 pics like the one on the left. Apparently she just wanted one without Luke’s tongue hanging out. I guess Luke got tired of it and started laying the smackdown on Papa’s hat.
The day we were leaving, mere minutes before we left in the van, Rylee let out the most ear piercing scream. This was the reason:
That sucker could fly, and it landed right in front of Rylee prompting her to believe it fell out of her hair. See how big it is in the second photo? Someone tell me what type of bug that is, please.
Now it is time to go. I slept like dog-leavings last night, so I’m going to attempt it again. Guess I was too used to sleeping in different beds this weekend. Any way, I’d be witty for you, but I don’t feel like it right now. Maybe read a Farside cartoon if you feel let down.
Oh, and I should say happy birthday to Kathy even though I did it in person, I mean, on the phone. With my voice. Yeah! It was the first one in a long time that Michelle didn;t get to spend with her, and she got all emotional about it. That part kind of sucked. Three good friend's birthdays go by and all we get to do is...woah, I'm tired. I'm getting a little morbid or expressing self pity which means it's bed time. Night all!
The second picture, the one on the right, shows that the tire tread managed to stay on, actually acting like an onion wring on a finger where the finger is my axel and the onion wring is my lost hopes of reaching Creston in record time. The funny and ironic thing, and by funny I mean “tear-inducing”, is that Michelle pointed out quite a few pieces of tire on the way to the spot where the fan decided to have a rest. She asked how that occurred, and I casually mentioned that most of the time it was due to the large truck, semis, with dualies, those are the side by side tires you see on semis, tractors and trucks owned by red necks, where one of the dualies has become flat, but the driver keeps driving. As a result, the tire literally explodes from the excess wear and tear it receives as a lack of proper pressure. Apparently it can also happen to nincompoops driving minivans, as well.
A situation like this can’t get anymore perfect, let me tell you. Oh, wait! It can! It just so happens that this blowout, and this was definitely a blowout, occurred at the most excellent tome of the day where everyone in the small towns between Calgary and Creston closes shop for the day and has a siesta. There was no one open in Crowsnest, and I wasn’t about to double back to Longview, and there wasn’t even any point in going to Lundbreck That town has a population of 234 according to a little poking around on the internet. I heard that all of them feast on wayward travelers force to stay the night due to vehicle troubles and bad weather; I wasn’t about to take any chances (just kidding Lundbreck).
So, hopping along on the spare, or “donut” as some motor enthusiasts like to call it, we passed through Frank Slide. You should really follow that link and read the story about the town of Frank and the little known but Earth shattering devastation that occurred there. It's a quick read but gripping.
I’ll probably take some pictures of it on the way through next time, but for now you should just do a quick search on Google to see the tonnes of rock that came down on the town of Frank.
I tried to explain to Rylee about the tragedy that happened there, and for the most part I was successful. However, she just couldn’t get over the fact that the town was named Frank. She kept asking if Frank survived the rock slide which goes to show how much she listens to me. I explained the Frank Slide to Kristen when we moved from Victoria, and she just accepted it in stride.
So we hobbled all the way to Creston because not a single tire place was open. We made it to Cranbrook a little after 9pn, but Canadian Tire had just closed, and the Walmart Service Centre hadn’t been open for an hour. So we made it to Creston on that cute little Barbie tire. The owner’s manual said that the spare was good for 60mph and 3000 miles which is a heck of a lot better than most spares I’ve had before. Most said not to go over 60 kpm and a distance of 60 kilometres.
The rest of the weekend was fabulous. We spent the first day at my parent’s place. During the day I hung out with my pop, Walter and Orin on the golf course, but seeing as I can’t play I just got to drive the cart around. That was pretty fun in itself because those little electric numbers seem to be able to go pretty fast. I kept worrying about damaging it though because it wasn’t mine; it was Walt’s.
While I was at the course, Michelle managed to snap a few pictures:
The above one is some sort of fancy cheese stick party that was too good for the likes of dad and I as we weren't invited. Below is a rare cooperative moment that involved gluing the children in place. The adhesive eventually wore off in time for bed:
Saturday evening was spent over at my sister's new house, and we had a little pizza party. Wendy has settled into her place pretty quickly as I noticed she had more pictures up on her wall than mom and dad did. She has the same view of the mountains that my parents previously did in their old house. One of our conversations:
Derek: Did you know you had mountains back here?
Wendy: Is that what they are?
Derek: Well, they’re not mole hills.
Wendy: I hear some people try to make mountains out of those.
Ah! Good times! Good times! Later on in the evening she was relating to me a tiresome quality she found in children. That is, the lack in quality of their hearing which I just ascribe to selectively blocking out certain adult voices so children can do what they want.
Wendy: Your daughter had a box of apple juice downstairs and was trying to feed it to your dog. The conversation went something like:
Rylee: Here Lilly!
Wendy: I don’t think Lilly wants any, Rylee.
Rylee: Here you go, Lilly.
Wendy: Rylee, she doesn’t need that!
Rylee: C’mon Lilly, have a sip.
Wendy: Rylee, Rylee, Rylee!
More good times!
The next day we went to a swimming hole that was part of the river going through Creston. Is it the Kootaney River? I don’t know! All I know is that the river that was flowing was cold and that the sectioned off swimming hole was warm. As a result, more pictures were taken:
I love Kyle’s Hulkster pose, brutha’!
We also managed to take in a walk in the nature sanctuary, and by nature sanctuary I mean “swamp.” Nothing spectacular out there that beat the nature hut although a sign said that a black bear had been spotted in the neighborhood recently. My biggest regret is not getting a photo of the turtle crossing sign. Next time, I guess. The guide:
…on the back of which were points of interest. One point of interest, I think it was point number 4 or 5, was entitled “annoying females.” I quickly scanned the swamp for some of my ex-girlfriends, but upon further reading discovered that it was actually referring to female mosquitoes. A widely known fact that the female mosquito is the only one of the species that bites. A little known fact is that the Creston nature preserve is so hard up for exhibits that it includes mosquitoes as one of them. These pictures resulted from that little excursion:
Believe it or not, Wendy’s actually smiling in that picture. However, she’s cleverly disguising it as disdain for my taking her picture. We also went to the nature hut where the kids were attacked by a bear and Rylee hugged an ugly duckling:
I like these photos:
When transferring the pictures to the computer, I noticed that Michelle had taken about 5 or 6 pics like the one on the left. Apparently she just wanted one without Luke’s tongue hanging out. I guess Luke got tired of it and started laying the smackdown on Papa’s hat.
The day we were leaving, mere minutes before we left in the van, Rylee let out the most ear piercing scream. This was the reason:
That sucker could fly, and it landed right in front of Rylee prompting her to believe it fell out of her hair. See how big it is in the second photo? Someone tell me what type of bug that is, please.
Now it is time to go. I slept like dog-leavings last night, so I’m going to attempt it again. Guess I was too used to sleeping in different beds this weekend. Any way, I’d be witty for you, but I don’t feel like it right now. Maybe read a Farside cartoon if you feel let down.
Oh, and I should say happy birthday to Kathy even though I did it in person, I mean, on the phone. With my voice. Yeah! It was the first one in a long time that Michelle didn;t get to spend with her, and she got all emotional about it. That part kind of sucked. Three good friend's birthdays go by and all we get to do is...woah, I'm tired. I'm getting a little morbid or expressing self pity which means it's bed time. Night all!
