The only thing that's right with the world

My Printer (Why I'm a Dumbass)

2006-09-01T10:48:00.000-04:00

Some people think I'm smart. Could be because I actually am smart, or it could be because of gas leaks in their various homes. In any case, every once in a while I feel the need to prove them wrong.

My printer is an HP Deskjet 932C. State of the art technology assuming you never entered the 21st century. Whatever, I don't print in colour and I don't care about speed, in any case we all know I'm too damn cheap to buy a new one anyway. A while back however, I was under the impression that a new printer would soon be entering my home. It was a faster and more efficient printer that I could make use of. I didn't want the old one taking up space in my already cramped apartment so I brought it over to my mom's place, the universal depository for all things that are useless. At this time I still had a brand new black ink cartridge for it, the second half of a two pack, but I couldn't find anyone who needed it and thought I'd never make use of it so I just threw it out. There came a day however where I realized that this new printer would not in fact be entering my home. Now, for my business, I need to print quite a few shipping labels, and since we've already established that I'm too cheap to buy a new printer my only course of action was to drive back to the bottomless pit known as my mom's basement to retrieve this old, crappy, but still perfectly usable printer.

Yes, it all seems like a big waste of time but in the end at least I still have a working printer, right? Wrong. I plug it in, ready to print the first page, when the dreaded out of ink sign lights up. Shit, and I just threw away a perfectly good cartridge. Oh well, off to Bureau en Gros I go to pick up one of those cheap refilled cartridges. Problem is, they're not so cheap.... $30.00 in fact. Well, I thought to myself, it's still cheaper than buying a new printer. So I go home, I change the cartridge, I turn on the printer, and I get ready to bask in the glow of a job well done. Instead however, I got to bask in the glow of the out of ink light. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the printer was in fact trying to tell me that I'm out of coloured ink, not black. That's 2 cartridges I've managed to waste just in case you're keeping track. Now I don't use my coloured ink, but this piece of crap printer won't even work without both ink cartridges being full, so what choice do I have really?

This time, I end up at Walmart. Coloured ink for this piece of crap is $50.00. I refuse to pay that on principle, since it is actually possible to find a new printer for that price. Ready to give up, my attention turns to a lovely little refill kit, with a lovely little price tag of a mere $20.00. I'll do it! What could possibly go wrong? (I should at this point mention that those five words are a bit of a recurring theme in my life.) So I bring the kit home, pop out my coloured cartridge, roll up my sleeves, and get ready for a quick and easy task that will result in a functional printer. About an hour later I begin thinking to myself that you'd have to be at a gay pride parade to see more rainbows. I was not quite accustomed to seeing my desk and my hands covered in so many bright happy colours. Colours, I must add, that don't wash off. Nevertheless, it was done, my cartridge was refilled and back into the printer. I pushed the on button and couldn't help but smile as I was greeted with the warm familiar haze of the out of ink light.

If anyone needs me I'll be on my roof, giving my printer a proper retirement.

For those of you who don't have facebook

2006-08-29T16:08:00.000-04:00

http://www.flickr.com/photos/98091215@N00/sets/72157594255107495/detail/

Up in the sky! It's me!

2006-08-27T00:09:00.000-04:00

So as some of you know, yesterday I finally completed my solo skydiving license. It's a dream that I put aside for four years due to lack of time and money. This year however I decided no more excuses, and while I have already accomplished quite a bit in my short life I think this little milestone fills me with the most pride. It didn't come without its price however, a couple of crash landings have left me bruised and battered. Ah well, pain is temporary, glory is forever.

Funny story to tell however, and I'd like you all to try and picture this. On my first jump of the day (which was my first jump in two months), the freefall went so well that I got a little cocky when it came to my landing approach. The result? Well, it was another intimate encounter with the corn fields. This time however I didn't land in the closest corn field, I landed in the farthest one, a 20 min walk away from the dropzone. Why did it take so long you ask, well that's because the fucking corn was taller than me and for a good long while I couldn't figure out which direction to walk in. Yes, I got lost in a fucking cornfield, while wearing a jumpsuit and a neon yellow helmet, dragging a 20 pound canopy behind me. Fun stuff.

Today should have been a nice day to recover, but instead my family decided to come visit. I think all in all today's experience was far more painful than crash landing onto the ground but at least it's over and I can take tomorrow to recover from the psychological trauma that was just added to my physical trauma.

As far as all the shit that happened earlier this summer goes, I am well on my way to putting it all behind me. Thank you to everyone who was there to support me.

Great time to start blogging again...

2006-08-14T21:17:00.000-04:00

Well, I certainly picked the wrong time to start again. My grandmother is not expected to live through the night. She means the world to me and has often been the only reason for me to come back to my mother's house in Montreal. This will be my last post for a bit, I need some recovery time. Also sorry if I isolate myself from society for a little while.

Just a little sign to let those who cares know that I'll be ok in time, I finally sent the "fuck off" email that was so long ovedue and at least I don't have to deal with any of Felicia's bullshit during this difficult time.

Welcome back

2006-08-09T00:13:00.000-04:00

Well shit. On two occasions in the past 24 hours I've been asked about my blog and why I don't post anymore. To be honest I don't know why, but I certainly do miss it. In fact I miss writing in general. A while back I was reading this blog and couldn't help but wonder why everything sounded so angry. Moments ago however, I read it over again and couldn't help but relate to my own words. I'm starting to feel like the old Gill, and anyone who knew me before my big move knows that this is very bad news.

Most people know but for those who don't, I've been travelling through Europe this past month and it's been tough to say the very least. It was of course supposed to be two months but I eventually tapped out and dragged my sorry ass back home halfway through, at great expense I might add (and I'm not just talking monetary).

I don't want to go into details as to just why this past month was such a soul crushing experience, I'd much rather try that whole moving on thing. I would however like to apologize in advance to anyone who comes into contact with me within the next few weeks, or possibly months.

It's not all bad though, I have two more things to cross of my list to do before I die. I have officially slept in an airport, and I also managed to get myself lost inside a cemetary at midnight. Both being very nice and happy things.

And there you have it, my first post of 2006 and only eight months late.

Can't stop blogging forever.

2005-11-16T17:38:00.000-05:00

Who would have figured a music program would be stressful? Honestly between my assignments and exams I've played maybe 20 minutes a day worth of guitar this week. Kind of stupid considering playing guitar is technically part of my homework.

I must say this month has been particularly shitty. First was my birthday, when I got sick from bad buffet food. Then was my birthday celebration in Montreal, which was held on ridiculously short notice since my exam scedule got pushed around so hardly anyone could make it. Then there's the general craptitude of school... exams, essays, assignments, projects, sneaking out of electronic music to go for a beer at 3:00 in the afternoon... ok that last one wasn't so bad.

A general reminder to anyone who still reads this, I'm performing between December 1st and the 4th, come watch me at least once or I'll eat your children.

December 1st: Jazz ensemble, Bandeen Hall @ Bishop's University
Decembber 2nd: Choir, also in Bandeen, followed my my best impersenation of a short distance sprinter, followed shortly after by the Jazz ensemble once again at the Lion in Lennoxville.
December 4th: Choir once again.

2005-10-22T23:57:00.000-04:00

I'm in Montreal. I'm with Erica. Hi Erica, I miss you. I also can't type when the letters on the keyboard are rubbed off. This is the most challenging thing I've done all weekend. I am also a l33t secret agent. More on that later. Good night. Happy panda.

2005-10-02T02:40:00.000-04:00

Tonight, for the first time in my life, I got up on a stage to do a bit of singing and a tiny bit of guitar playing. I don't think I can describe what it feels like to get everyone off their seat to come dance in front of the stage for Sweet Home Alabama. I knew there was a reason why I wanted to go into music.

A big thank you goes to Alain's brother Eric who went on stage to embarass himself with me.

2005-09-30T01:41:00.000-04:00

alcohol + walking up hill = bad combination

just thought i'd let everyone know

Videotron is out to get me.

2005-09-27T18:45:00.000-04:00

It's been nearly a week since I've had the internet working. One day a Videotron van pulls up next to my building, next thing I know the cable is out. I call my ISP (they're basically selling me rehashed Videotron for cheaper), who insist on taking me through the "reset your modem" prcedure 50 times before helping me and they call up Videotron to schedule a visit. Friday, 12 to 5 is what they tell me. Friday at 5:30, after having seen a Videotron van pass by my building at least 3 times without stopping, I was a bit pissed. Called my ISP again, got the same "reset your modem" instructions 50 times, then they finally called Videotron to ask "what the fuck". Apparently the apointment was cancelled, but they refused to say why and who cancelled it. In any case, they rescheduled me for today, 7 to 12.

Knowing full well they wouldn't come until at least 9, I got up at 6:45 this morning anyway because dammit I want my internet back and didn't want to take any risks. Of course 9:00 rolls around and still nothing. They do finally come, at around 10:00, exactly when I'm "occupied" with a bit of breakfast disposal. The problem of course took 2 minutes to fix, the fuckers disconnected me from the box downstairs and I could have fixed it myself if it weren't illegal. Why did they disconnect me? Who knows. Looks like Videotron makes my list... I'm gonna need more paper.

Wall: 2 Gill: 0

2005-09-17T16:27:00.000-04:00

Since arriving in Lennoxville I haven't had much luck with those big vertical things we use to shelter us from the weather. The first incident occured when Ed taught me how to play squash. Lots of fun but I'm used to badminton and tennis where I have lots of room to run around frantically. Running around in squash as I soon discovered is a good way to formally (and often intimately) introduce yourself to the concrete wall. Nedless to say it was a battle I just couldn't win.

The second incident occured today. At one point I decided to finally get off my ass and put up a few guitar hangers to complete at least one side of my living room. The result: A broken drill bit, 3 stripped screws, 2 cracked drywall anchors, 6 gaping holes in my wall (only 4 were required), a carpet full of drywall and fiberglass, a broken chair, a scratched guitar, a bump on the head, and a badly bruised knee. Yea the wall kicked my ass real good but big assists go to the broken chair and a shitty Black & Decker drill that is rapidly becoming the bane of my existence.

I need a nap... the kind that lasts 3 months and is generally called a coma.

2005-09-09T00:54:00.000-04:00

im so fickoing drunk its ridiculous. my neighb ors kick dso much ass. my roof i s th we ultimate lennoxvile ee nightclub.

I'm worried

2005-09-08T00:15:00.000-04:00

Yes, me, worried, just a little. I've had a few problems with my apartment but nothing major and everything was fixed real quick. A few bugs get in every now and then like most apartments. That's not what worries me. What worries me is that I always find these bugs lying dead on the floor in less than a day. Makes me wonder if there's some kind of crazy gas leak or asbestos in the walls or something. What makes me just a little more worried is that whenever I spend an extended period of time in my apartment, I get a mild headache. If this turns out to be my last post I guess I had a good reason to worry.

"I'm drinking Red Bull and Vodka"

2005-09-05T23:44:00.000-04:00

Does anyone else think that combination can produce instant death? You hear the most interesting things when you leave your window open in a college town. Tonight marks my first evening of staying in (as of 10:00pm that is) since, um, I can't remember. In any case this town is a blast, but I needed a night off to do some relaxing and studying.

People here are fucking random. Some guy invited me into his house to come grab a beer on the couch, which happened to be on a sloped roof. I guess he didn't really invite me into his house, but still random. This rocks, I have the best of the best here. I'm a froshie but at the same time I know what university life is all about so I can relate to everyone. I can go to the wild and crazy parties, while still having a big apartment in a quiet area to come back to. Life kicks ass.

I don't know if I'm stringing my sentences together well enough to be coherent, I'm just really tired and tomorrow is my english writing exam so I guess I chose the right night to stay in. Good times.

They have the internet on computers now?

2005-08-29T15:04:00.000-04:00

Well, it took me a full week but I finally have the internet at home. I had to pay $100 to have my modem professionaly "installed" (i.e. plugged in) but hey that's what happens when you go with a small ass backwards compnay. All things considered, it's worth it since these guys come out to $15 a month cheaper than Videotron (after tax) for the same service. It's so nice to finally be able to vegetate in front of my computer instead of enjoying the outside world just like I did in Montreal.

Everyone in Lennoxville and in Sherbrooke is really nice, just really really french. I wish I could say that I've taken the time to get to know a few people around here and expose myself to the local culture but most of my time has been spent setting up my apartment or running around buying stuff for my apartment. That and I snuck back into Montreal for a bit when nobody was looking. I'll be doing it again next weekend, but only because I have to go get some x-rays.

Finally, I would just like to boast that I have the best cell phone plan in the world. Rogers will quite literally give you anything you want if you threaten to leave. True, my reception is not great out here, but I just couldn't say no to what they offered. 200 daytime, unlimited evenings, free caller ID, 100 free long distance minutes, all for $20.00 a month. Plus they gave me the V551 for $50.00. Honestly how could I say no?

2005-08-22T00:54:00.000-04:00

You never know what you're leaving behind until you have to leave it behind. I'm pretty sick, but maybe this feeling in my stomach isn't just from illness. I just hope I'm not the only one who thinks that this is the only answer.

The joy that is Gill

2005-08-17T18:05:00.000-04:00

I'm tired and there's some random dude painting my garage door. Now I knew we were having the garage door painted but at first all I heard was a noise coming from the garage and it didn't hit me right away. I investigated a little and found the noise was coming from the outside, then I realised what it was. All is well with the world right? Well, no, because all this made me get up. If I have my ass out of the seat, it had better be for a good reason. So without a moment's hesitation I set up my workbench right at the edge of the door, took out my circular saw (the loudest of all my tools) and proceeded to cut a nicely sized piece of wood in half. It sort of sounded like a train passing, and the noise from outside stopped for a good ten minutes (possibly because the dude was recovering from the shock, or maybe he fell off a ladder... all the better). Job well done, and I'm happy to say my ass is back in my chair.

Anyway, since everyone now knows that the last going away party wasn't real and was just to shut a few people up, I'll announce that I have nothing to do Friday night and anyone who wants to do something is welcome to give me a call and suggest something. Then everyone can join in, we say our goodbyes, call it a party, and the deed is done. My default plan is of course pool at Jilly's, but even I'm sick of pool at Jilly's. Once I know what I'll be doing, I'll even go as far as making individual phone calls to invite people.

2005-08-07T23:42:00.000-04:00

Funny story about the state I'm in, just before the 1st of the month I realized I owe some rent money. I called my apartment manager to see if I could give it in a few days late since I wouldn't be at my apartment right away, but he was about to go on vacation. No problem, I told him I would just send the cheque with express-post, so I did. A few days ago, I went down to my apartment in Lennoxville and upon checking my mail I realized that I had in fact mailed the cheque to my apartment, and not to his. I applauded my own efforts, which I'll bet looked kinda funny, but I didn't notice.

Well anyway, I hate people, death to my mother, death to the world, everyone is a moron except me... There we go, that should cover me for a while. See you all next time!

Digging away

2005-07-27T23:33:00.000-04:00

Well, I can now cross one more item off my list of sketchy things to do before I die. Today I dug a grave. Not a very big one since it was for a budgie, but hey a grave is a grave. Wanna know what I noticed? Well too bad, you're gonna hear it anyway. Digging a hole in the ground is fucking hard. It's all smooth sailing once you get to the earth itself, but after tonight I think grass would make a good substitute for a bullet proof vest.

Now call me insensitive, but I think that when an animal this small dies you just shove it in a hole (or down the toilet if it fits) and get on with your life. Alas, today I almost drowned in my house from all the tears. What for? A bird? These things shouldn't be pets, they should be dinner. If you're going to have this much trouble dealing with the loss of 6 ounces of feathers, then how will you go on when a person dies? Death is a natural part of life, vital to the ecosystem, balance of nature, and all that crap.

Now then, a small invitation to throw out. August 6th at 9:00 I'll be grabbing a few beers with some people from work at Ye Olde Orchard. Anyone who wants to stop by just to make sure I don't change my mind about leaving is more then welcome. This isn't an official going away party, but I'm not sure if I want one so take your opportunities when you can.

Finally, show of hands, does anyone still read this or am I ranting to myself? Cause the ranting goes on in my head anyway... this is just finger exercise.

If only

2005-07-24T02:57:00.000-04:00

Alright, so this post might be a wee bit alcohol enduced but if I only listened to my own advice my life would kick ass. Not that my life isn't good, the few friends I have are real friends and they know how much I appreciate them. Those who truy dislike me are absolutely miserable. so they don't count. It's just that sometimes you think about missed opportunities. And sometime you think about how they get the caramel in the Caramilk bars.

45 days...

2005-07-07T20:57:00.000-04:00

Yes that's right, I'm 45 days away from getting the hell out of here. I wish it were 45 hours but I'll get very bored in Lennoxville for 2 months with nothing to do and I have 3 guitar projects I'd still like to finish up. I hate this place... I hate it every moment I'm here... so what makes me bitch now? Well, we're ordering pizza.

For the average family, ordering pizza is a one hour process. 15 minutes or so to order, then a 45 minute delivery wait. My family decided to order pizza at 7:30. It's 8:44 and they have yet to make the call. Here's what the process is like:

First my mother decides she doesn't want to cook (a blessing from god really). Pizza is of course the first thing that comes to mind because all her attempts to be "creative" with ordering food have resulted in backed up plumbing. She then informs the rest of the family and asks what they want. It's a very quick answer from myself and my brother in law, but my sister has to debate the advantages and disadvantages of certain toppings for 15 minutes before getting the same thing she always does.

Then we have to decide how much pizza to order. This is of course a very long and complicated mathematical process as the pizza absolutely must be enough for tonight's dinner, tomorrow's lunch, and the side dish to tomorrow's dinner. Another 15 minutes go by. Then where to order. This step begins with my mother reaching for the stack of 10 or so pizza flyers sitting on top of the fridge to look for the place with the best deal. Quality of pizza is irrelevant of course. After another 15 minutes, the same damn place we order from every fucking time is chosen.

Think we're set? Well you're wrong, because it's now about time for my sister to start with the "well maybe we shouldn't order so much" or "maybe we should try a new place" or "I don't think I want pizza tonight". This goes on for another 15 minutes.

Now you're a smart one, I'll bet you've been keeping track of time and think that the pizza should have been ordered at 8:30. So what gives? Well, my mother is in the bathroom, and god forbid we should order before she gets out so that my sister can ask her final "are you sure this is what we should order?"

So now what? We order and 45 minutes later I get to eat my pizza? No. It's absolutely necessary to have soup before my pizza, or I get yelled at. So you figure a good time to start making the soup is maybe half an hour into our order? Well my mother starts making it when she hears the doorbell. This of course delays payment of the pizza guy since they have to call me to come answer the door (since they don't want the pizza people to know that there are frail women in the house). My brother in law could do it, but he's busy getting yelled at by my sister for not backing her up on the whole "well maybe we shouldn't order so much" thing.

45 days...

1080 hours...

64800 minutes...

You get the point.

Awesome and a half.

2005-07-04T01:29:00.000-04:00

Past couple of days my life has been nothing but my business, the gym, and the Jazz Festival. I don't have an ounce of strength left in me, but I'm having so much fun. Canada day was a blast too, Skrud summed it up nicely. I would review all the acts I've seen so far but I'm way too damn tired... it'll be up soon enough tho.

One thing I will say, I hate hippies. The women have more armpit hair than the men and the men wear longer dresses than the women. And they hug each other. A lot. It creeps me out. You'd think there wouldn't be many hippies at the Jazz Fest, but I guess you weren't counting on the fact that there was a hippy band there. They were from Israel and called themselves "Seven" (in Hebrew that is) despite the fact that there were eight of them. Every third word they sang was peace, every fourth word was love, and every fifth word was god, all in Hebrew. Made for some very exciting music I must say... I don't wish death upon them however, only because all the keyboard effects were processed through a Powerbook.

Nuts to you

2005-06-30T00:51:00.000-04:00

Today's heat can only be described as testicle melting. I have yet to look down my pants but I fear the worst. It was still nice to be outside, in fact I've been outside for the past 3 days and I've looked like Little Richard in mid performance each time I've gotten home. I'm sure nobody has ever seen Little Richard perfrm so that joke must be lost on all of you.

The other day I played with my nut for about an hour. Now then, before buying Net Nanny to prevent this site from ever being seen by your children again let me explain that I was playing with a guitar nut. Frustrating little thing, but that's what I get for deciding to build my own guitar.

Today was my mom's birthday. The cake had nuts... I of course left the gift to the last possible second and ended up with nothing. My last resort was looking through HomeSense (the other part of Winners) for somethign that says "I love you, but clearly not enough to put any effort into your gift". Sopping at HomeSense was a very interesting experience. I've almost gone blind many times in my life, mostly from my own stupidity and experiments, but this is the first time that I've almost gone blind from ugliness. I've never seen anything like it. Imagine a modern art museum... after someone throws up on the displays... in the mddle of a fire... just as an atomic bomb is dropped over it. Then only thing uglier than the mechandise is the staff. Actually I shouldn't say that since the only thing uglier than the staff is the clientele. Myself excluded of course ;)

In the end I settled for the leat ugly thing I could find, a picture frame with the word "family" over it. Little did I realize hw big a mistake that was. Upon seeing it, my mother said: "Oh I love it, now we have to take a picture with all of us together to put in it." Should have seen that one coming...

Sobriety Anonymous.

2005-06-26T03:27:00.000-04:00

It is 3:27 in the morning, and I'm stone fucking sober. I'm sober to the point where I don't know what's going on around me. I hate this, sobriety makes me do such stupid things. On my way home I stole a construction cone and put it in front of my neighbor's driveway. I've been sober for weeks, but it feels like forever. I used to think I had control over my sobriety, but it's taking over my life. This is a cry for help.

My name is Gill, and I'm sober.

Fuck you Concordia, I hope you burn to the ground.

2005-06-22T17:09:00.000-04:00

At 2:58 pm I got the good news by email.

Dear Mr. Benzion,

On behalf of the John Molson School of Business at Concordia University, we are pleased to inform you that you have been granted admission to the following program:

Bachelor of Commerce
Major Management

I wish they had sent it to me in the form of an actual letter, so that I could burn it. Funny how last year the email said something like:

Dear Mr. Benzion,

Fuck you.

What has changed since then? Well, the first time I applied, I was coming off a semester with a 3.8 GPA. Granted my overall GPA was still shit (although higher than the average at Concordia), but I had asked them to overlook my first few "mistakes". This time around, I was fresh off a GPA of zero. How did I accomplish that? Simple, I didn't take any classes. My overall GPA was not much higher, but this time I got in. Which leads me to believe that Concordia values a semester of sitting on my ass, over a semester of award-worthy performance. A fine example of why I decided several months ago that Concordia is officially out of my life.

I think Frank Zappa put it best. "Not even a witch oughta be caught at the bottom of America's spew-infested waterways, hey hey." Ok, so maybe Frank Zappa doesn't put it best, but death to Concordia in any case.

I'm slowly losing my mind

2005-06-20T00:59:00.000-04:00

Now I know what you're thinking, the term "losing one's mind" has to be used quite loosely in reference to someone like myself, but it's true. I'm going insane (by my standards that is, so please no "what do you mean going?" in the comments). I don't know what I'm saying, I don't know what I'm doing, and I don't have a clue as to what the hell is going on around me. Earlier today, I caught myself about to put tinfoil in the microwave. Soon after, I attempted to set my phone to silent, only to miss the setting 4 times in a row while going down the list. I wrote down that I have a dentist appointment tomorrow in at least 4 places, 2 of them i see every time I sit down at my desk, I didn't have a clue until my mother reminded me that tomorrow is in fact tomorrow. I also couldn't figure out how to use half the machines at the gym today, and I'm a fucking personal trainer. The problem, is sleep.

A couple of weeks ago I started having some trouble falling asleep. Just some tossing and turning, nothing major. It got worse. In fact the past few nights have been hell. The whole night consists of tossing and turning. If I do manage to fall asleep, I wake up at least 3-4 times in the night in the most akward positions imaginable. While I'm sleeping, I either have absolutely crazy dreams that makes no sense, or ridiculous nightmares that end in me jumping and hitting my head or waking up drenched in sweat. Perhaps it's guilt from killing what seemed to be a whole family of spiders this week. I found one of them in the shower, which made me realize I really have to clean my shower. I'd describe to you just how disgusting cleaning that shower was, but I don't want to force you poor people into therapy.

The problem could also be lack of human contact. I'm working day and night on my business now and get little exposure to the outside world. Problem is I don't have anything to do in the outside world because I don't like people. Perhaps I should re-evaluate that policy of mine. On a side note, I now have voice mail so I encourage all of you to call me so that I don't have to answer. Oh... wait, I mean should I be unavailable... err... Bah! Who am I kidding, I hate you all.

Just kidding of course. Or am I? No, really, I'm asking you, I can't remember...

Online dating

2005-06-15T22:36:00.000-04:00

What better way to get back into blogging then by blogging almost daily until I get bored and abandon it for another month? This is gonna be a long one, so strap yourselves in folks. And if you need to pee, do it now.

I have trouble meeting women. I'm not socially akward, I don't lack confidence (well maybe a little) and I'm not ugly, at least not by comparison to most men within a certain radius (I love Quebec!). The reasons why I have trouble meeting women are simple; I don't go clubbing, I'm not a big fan of the bar scene, I never spend weekends downtown, when I'm out I'm ALWAYS out with a small group of friends, and at the moment I'm not in school and only work a real job 4 hours a week. When I do actually venture into a club or bar, I don't strike up any conversations or even try to because the women I find are not the women I want. The women I want are likely doing the same thing I am on weekends, essentially isolating themselves from contact outside their group of friends.

Like many, I've briefly explored online dating but have not put much effort into it as I don't believe it works. A friend of mine who shall go nameless seems to have put considerably more effort into it than I have and has met several women in a VERY short period of time. Not that I want to sound like a jackass, but I'm sure you can imagine what those women looked like... I'm not quite that shallow but let's face it, physical attraction is important as you're going to spend a lot of time looking at your potential significant other. The problem, in theory, is that he met these women through okcupid.com, a free dating site. I have another friend who says he has found attractive women with good personalities on lavalife.ca, so I took a look.

Now I doubt I will ever pay for online dating, but the first friend told me of a way to cheat the system. You send a message the same way you would send a collect call and leave your email address in the subject line for the other party to see. Then they simply decline your message after already obtaining your contact info. Tonight my friend informed me that it may not actually work, so to test it out I found myself messaging him on lavalife. That's right, I messaged another man on an online dating site. After clicking "send" and realizing what I had done, a little part of me died. Needless to say his little trick did not work.

I don't really know where I'm going with this but the conclusion, much like the conclusion to all my posts, is that society sucks. We as a people put so much emphasis on dating and relationhips yet make it so hard and so complicated, at least much more complicated then it has to be. You know who else makes things more complicated then they have to be? My mother. Now if I can compare society to my mother, I'm sure you realise that we as a people have some BIG problems.

Wow...

2005-06-15T00:28:00.000-04:00

I just saw The Machinist.
...
...
...
It feels like my brain has just been fucked for an hour and a half.
...
...
...
Christian Bale plays a very convincing psychopath (as if anyone didn't already know that).
...
...
...
It all makes sense in the end... but until it makes sense... wow...
...
...
...
I'm scared.

Nursery rhymes you should not tell your children

2005-06-13T18:11:00.000-04:00

So go figure, finding an apartment and trying to get rid of all your crap while keeping up with your guitar playing and attempting to learn some theory all while filling out applications for bursaries and trying to cook up schemes to support yourself financially can keep you pretty busy. But hey, I can't stay away from this blog forever.

It has come to my attention that since I'll be moving away I'll have very little time to spend with my niece, the one member of this family who still has the slightest of chances to be normal. To make up for it, every moment that I do spend with her will have to count for a lot. So I've prepared a few little nursery rhymes I plan on telling her. They go a little something like this.

Mary had a little lamb.
I ate it.
It was delicious.

Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep,
And she can't tell where to find them.
Well you already know I eat lamb so I guess you can figure out where they went.

Bah bah black sheep have you any wool?
Do I really have to finish this one?

More Lennoxville adventures.

2005-05-20T00:50:00.000-04:00

Wow, busy time. Spent the day in Lennoxville with my mom, and she behaved... I was in shock. It was a very productive day, I found a great apartment, found some very good greek food, met a guy named Tim Taylor, and I killed a squirrel. Good times had by all... except the squirrel. I guess it found out that the left front tire of a car rolling at 90 makes an admirable foe. Or maybe it didn't, because it's dead.

Point of advice to everyone out there. You won't sell an apartment if you point out quite often that there was a fire right above your head just a few weeks ago. Seems some douchebag fell asleep with a cigarette in his mouth. That and they were charging $450 for a 3&1/2 with nothing included and no fridge. Not necessarily a bad deal, but I found much better.

In honour of the fact that I'll soon be strapped for cash, I bought myself a $2000 iMac G5. I'm a crazy son of a bitch, I know, but my computer can melt yours, so there :P

Alright I really need sleep, this is perhaps the third time I've almost fallen asleep at the wheel during long trips and this time I had someone in the car. Not a good sign.

I hate you

2005-05-11T18:35:00.000-04:00

I just wrote a really long blog about how much suffering I am going through right now, and I lost everything because goddam fucking eblogger is experiencing problems with their server. Die, suffer, perrish, and choke on a twinkie.

The lunatic is in my head

2005-05-04T10:23:00.000-04:00

You raise the blade, you make the change,
You re-arrange me 'till I'm sane.
You lock the door, and throw away the key,
There's someone in my head but it's not me.

I'm in hour 80 of my beer fast. Not that I want to seem like an alcoholic, but OH MY GOD IT BURNS!!!!! CAN'T STAND THE PAIN!!!!! Last night's conversation turned to baby eating again. I don't want people to think that I'm all about eating babies because it couldn't be farther from the truth. I'm also about eating kittens, puppies, and anything else that can be considered cute and cuddly.

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon,
And if there is no more room upon the hill,
And if your head explodes with dark forbiddings too,
I';; see you on the dark side of the moon.

I love this city

2005-04-30T03:43:00.000-04:00

Tonight started out pretty normal, I went to see a movie with my friends Tracy and Tyla. It was the Amityville Horror, it didn't suck, but it certainly wasn't spectacular. I seem to remember the original being very different tho... After the movie, Tyla was thirsty so we went to Provigo to get her some water. It was then that Tracy and I realized we were hungry. Rather than go to Cine or some other 24 hour restaurant like normal people, we decided to buy food at the grocery store and have a picnic... at midnight... in the park on Peel across from the bus station. I managed to make a sandwich out of a baguette, some pre-sliced meat, and my bare hands. It was then followed by some Nutrigrain bars and two packages of Poptarts. Now that's good eating. At first I thought it was pretty sketchy, until Tyla and Tracy reminded me that I live in Montreal and have done much sketchier things. The stop sign in my garage would attest to that.

I love this city and I'm going to miss it a lot, but at the same time I can't wait to move to Lennoxville and never see any of you fuckers again. Of course I still have to survive until I move... birthday/farewell to a friend tomorrow, wrestling/drinking on Sunday, wrestling/drinking on Monday, party on Tuesday, concert on Wednesday, Thursday I'm sure I'll find something, then it all begins again on Friday. All this and I think it's tme for my monthly illness. Or at least that's what the feeling in my throat tells me. Won't stop me either way.

Out of town adventures

2005-04-26T13:59:00.000-04:00

Ok, screw the works of fiction, I'm tired. I spent Saturday night in Ottawa and Hull, losing $40 at the casino and nearly falling asleep at the wheel. Ottawa sucks. Montreal has this unbelievable cultural diversity, in Ottawa however, everyone is white and ugly. I found one good looking girl in Ottawa working at Rockin' Johny's diner but unfortunately my brother in law and I were served by the only other waitress working, who despite being very nice looked like she should be building a damn with her fellow beavers. What boggles the mind is that she worked right across the street from a dental clinic... By the way, don't eat at Rockin' Johny's. I drove back home Sunday but not before checking out a music store that boasted a 50% off everything over $100 sale. I won't bore you with the details of just how crappy the store was, but I do feel the need to mention one of the signs on the wall. It stated: "If two customers are having a discussion for longer than 15 minutes, the store reserves the right to end their conversation."

Yesterday I spent the day in Lennoxille with Matt. Matt is the king. Not only did he keep me awake at the wheel, he entertained the hell out of me with some of the most vulgar coments I've ever heard. He then absolutely amazed me with his drumming skills and on the way back he humped a bush. To top things off, he met my mother and was so polite that this morning the first thing my mother said to me was "I really like your friend, he's so nice and polite." Matt, you're amazing!

Lennoxville as usual kicked ass, except for the eggs... I'm never going there again without my guitar as within my first few hours of being there I jammed with a few people and may have found myself a band. Sherbrooke kicked ass too, best pawn shop ever and bars on every corner. I will never get bored, or sober. When all was said and done Matt and I ended up at Kelsey's for Raw, which is always fun, especially when Adam and I slap each other. I never got him back for the last one, but it's probably because the glare from his balding head distracted me.

A new direction.

2005-04-22T12:15:00.000-04:00

My life should be a webcomic. If any of you have followed my dramatic struggle to reclaim posession of my NES, you will be happy to know that it is finally mine again. All it took was getting my sister an emulator so that she can play Mario. Who knows, maybe having a baby made her normal, at least temporarily. By the way, I'm an uncle. I would have mentioned it earlier but I was still contemplating eating it as the new picture in my profile suggests. Anyway, so I finally get my Nintendo and run downstairs to plug it in with glee. Within one second of the prong touching the free outlet on the powerbar (which was supposed to be my moment of glory) something sparks and my computer shuts down, never to boot up again, making the event 10% ironic and 193% a huge pain in the ass.

But all is well, important data is saved, and Josh came through big time with a loaner, and old hunk of junk sitting under his desk. I was considering a new one anyway, especially since the old hunk of junk under Josh's desk is in fact twice as fast as mine was...

I think I've come to a crossroad in my life. The bullshit hasn't stopped, but I don't complain about it as much. I could blame it on the increased alcohol content in my blood, but maybe I'm just maturing. On second thought it's probably the alcohol. In any case I think this blog has gotten boring, so over the next few weeks expect some creative works of fiction, something I haven't done since high school but am dying to do again. Don't worry, this doesn't mean I'll stop the sarcasm or vulgarity, if anything, there will be more.

I'm turning into a hippy, but my mom is still an idiot.

2005-04-13T00:06:00.000-04:00

Yea, you heard me. It started when I got caught up in all this "core strength" bullshit. Then I started saying "it doesn't matter how strong you are, as long as you are healthy". Then I started doing a few yoga stretches. Now I'm taking these 100% natural and organic remedies for joint pain. This bullshit has to stop. Not that I'll stop with the joint pain stuff cause dammit my elbows hurt and I don't wanna spend 50$ a week on physio or even hear the word surgery.

What pisses me off, as usual, is my mom. She says I'm acting stupid. Her logic is as follows: I'm in pain, I'm trying to do something about it, therefore I'm acting stupid. Yay mom! I'll bet she thinks I should take her path, which is feel pain, do nothing about it, be miserable, complain about it 25 hours out of the day (that's right, you heard me) and make other people miserable because all you do is complain. Lemme tell you, her logic makes about as much sense as the dancing banana that's beating the carp out of Captain America on my left shoulder. But enough about my drug addiction. What? Anyway, it got to the point where my mom was walking around the house with a cane, until my grandmother actually started needing it.

On the topic of this all natural crap I'm taking, while I don't know for sure, I'm fairly confident that I now know what the floor of the men's bathroom tastes like. This stuff in particular is called "Flex Solution". The front says delicious organic cherry berry flaour, but the first time I tasted it I passed out and woke up 17 hours later in a dumpster in Wichita, Kansas. It kinda tastes like cough medicine that expired the year my grandfather was born and spent the last 50 years under a radiator in a garbage dump located in New Jersey.

Right then I'm having a lot of trouble concentrating so until next time, duct tape.

I'm drunk

2005-04-04T18:28:00.000-04:00

Well, no I'm not. Not right now at least, but I have been drunk a lot lately seeing as how I'm going out and having a good time every night. Tonight is no exception despite the fact that I have a cold again, I've strained my neck, I'm very tired from today's workout, and I was fucking wasted last night. That's right, I'm hardcore. Or maybe I'm stupid... I'm not really sure.

Anyway, spotters piss me off sometimes. For those of you who don't know, a spotter is some random dude at the gym who helps out his buddy on something like a bench press just to make sure that his buddy doesn't manage to pop his own head clean off from having 200 pounds land on his chest. What pisses me off about spotters is that they're someties excessively loud when they're encouraging their buddy. I can understand telling him "one more" or "keep pushing" or "it's all you, it's all you", but honestly, I don't think the whole gym needs to hear it (along with the people in the hair salon next door).

Today I saw the most ridiculous thing. While walking into the gym I saw a guy spotting his buddy on some preacher curls (something you wouldn't normally need spotting on, but what the hell). I was expecting it, and then I heard it, loud and clear from all the way across the gym: "KEEP PUSHING!!!!!" As I approached, it was time for the "ONE MORE!!!!!" I was 100% ready for the third one, but goddam did it throw me off: "IT'S ALL ME!!! IT'S ALL ME!!!" Sure enough, I passed by just in time to see that it was actually the guy doing the preacher curls who was yelling. To make matters worse, his yelling made him run out of breath to the point where I thought his head was gonna burst (which is the reason why I was hiding behind the mirror, I really didn't want to ruin my leather jacket). Now that guy was hardcore... or stupid... Hmm, this time I'm pretty sure it's stupid.

Goddam I want to play some Nintendo

2005-03-28T20:02:00.000-05:00

My sister is a bitch. Years ago, when my mother decided to give her a condo downtown rent-free, my sister whined and moaned that she wanted to take the Nintendo with her, that it's only fair since I have the Super Nintendo. My mother of course gave in, likely due to a premonition that I will be the disappointment of the family (something I have lived up to in her eyes). Since then I have been away from my Nintendo, despite the fact that my sister and my brother in law have been living here for two and a half years, leaving behind an empty (not really since all their stuff is still there) appartment that I have been forbidden to use.

Today the bitch asked me to help my brother in law move a crib from my house to the appartment. Not that it will be used or anything seeing as how there is already a crib set up in this house in what is now officially the baby's room. I might add that due to this "baby's room", my mother and grandmother sleep in the same room, and my sister and brother in law sleep in my old room, a room barely big enough to contain me. Back on topic, today I got smart and told her that I'll help on one condition; that I get to bring the Nintendo back here, to my basement, so that I can play it. Her response was: "No, we still use it, it's very selfish and unfair of you to ask such a thing..." Lemme tell you, I shut her up real quick when I said "No you stupid bitch, you don't still use it, you don't even live there!" Needless to say when all was said and done the Nintendo was still there and I refused to help.

On the topic of me being an uncle, the expected date for this soon to be poor and tortured soul to arrive is April 3rd. This of course being the date of Wrestlemania. I've made it quite clear that should the baby actually arrive on that date, I'll only come see it after I'm done at the bar, and chances are I'll be drunk. No, this doesn't make me the world's worst uncle, and to prove it I've written a poem for my future niece or nephew.

You're not going to be smart,
You're not going to be rich,
In fact I'm sure you'll hate your life,
Because your mom is such a bitch.

You won't have nice clothes,
You won't eat good food,
Because the people here are nuts,
So you're pretty much screwed.

You won't get much sleep,
Because screaming you'll hear,
It's too bad you can't do like me
And wash your troubles away in beer.

Pain, suffering, insanity,
Over here you'll have it all,
And I won't be here to help,
Because I'm gone by the fall.

I know CPR, but I still won't save your life.

2005-03-24T20:58:00.000-05:00

Wow. It's been so long since I've so much as visited my own blog page that I've been logged out and forgot my password. That was a fun ten minutes... it's great being too stubborn to click on the "forgot password" link. So ya, been a while... want some updates? Well here goes. Before I start, I apologize in advance for the spelling mistakes... the m, c, and v keys on my keyboard aren't working too well and I'll be damned if I'm gonna read over all this bullshit. It's bad enough that I have to think it.

First off, I got fired. I know, you're thinking what the hell took so long? Well goddam am I glad to be out of there. It took me a few weeks to find another job, so for the past little while my life has been about as exciting as a 3 week old box of cottege cheese, but I got a job at the gym, they're giving me more and more shifts, and soon the weather will be getting nice so i can work outside on my guitars again.

Second, I got accepted into music at Bishop's so come August you can all go fuck yoursleves, I'm outta here. On second though, you don't have to wait until I'm outta here, you can all go fuck yourselves right now. Hell you can even get the kids and make it a family activity! And for you seniors who aren't capable of fucking yourselves, we provide a very special service involving a 7 foot tall 400 pound orderly and an aluminum pole.

Third, ok I forget third, I'm too distracted by the sharp pain in my stomach. Chinese food at 11 am is a bad idea. An even worse idea is washing it down with beer. What can I say, I was at my best. This is what happens when you take an entire semester off school.

Finally, I found out on Monday night that CPR doesn't really do shit. I found this out from my CPR instructor as he was teaching me how to perform CPR. So I've decided that if ever you're in need of CPR, I won't help you. Partially because it won't do shit, but mostly because chances are I don't like you. Now if a touching sentiment like that doesn't give you that nice warm fuzzy feeling inside, come join me next week for chinese food at 11 am.

Now I know my ABCs, next time won't you go fuck yourself.

2005-03-01T23:53:00.000-05:00

Looks like Bambi was just released on DVD. In hounor of this special occasion, I'm going to make it a point to eat more rabbit. I'd eat more deer, but I only saw one for the first time a few days ago and it kinda stared me down as if it was daring me to do something. That thing had balls... I'm sure the dead raccoon on the road had balls too, but it was dead so it doesn't really matter now does it. In case you're wondering, all these lovely sights and many more were spotted on the way back home from Lennoxville.

The way to Lennoxville was just as exciting. I got me a 183$ speeding ticket. I don't have much luck driving to Lennoxville let me tell you... guess it'll be easier when I'm living there. Turns out I don't like speeding tickets, so it's time to take the necessary steps to make sure I don't get any more. From now on, I vow to never go more than 20km over the speed limit... for two weeks... on Thursdays... between 5 and 6 am... if I have a headache.

Finally it would appear that nobody in my office knows the alphabet. It pisses me off. For those of you who never learnt the alphabet song as children, let me go through a few highlights for you. B is for bitch, her name in Nathalie. C is for cunt, once again, her name is Nathalie. Q just doesn't exist in my office... to the people in my office seeing a Q is like seeing a unicorn play poker, it just doesn't happen. W stands for two things. The first is whore, her name is Nathalie. The second is WHY THE HELL AM I STILL WORKING THERE????? I should start making use of this Jack Daniel's bottle on my desk, I complain a lot less when I'm drunk.

A message for Louis

2005-02-15T23:04:00.000-05:00

Louis my friend, I see that you've registered for your own blog. This is good. BECAUSE NOW YOU CAN USE IT INSTEAD OF LEAVING LONG WINDED COMMENTS ON MINE!!!!!!!

Honestly dude, comments aren't supposed to be as long as the blog. Bessides, people don't really care what I have to say so I'm sure they care even less about what you have to say in regards to what I originally had to say. Hope that didn't confuse your feeble mind.

In conclusion, fine, maybe you don't suck, you lick, too bad you lick ass! Until Thursday's lunch, do please make sure to go to hell.

Green eggs and ham

2005-02-14T22:32:00.000-05:00

Well I've got nothing very important to say, but I did want to post more... so what the hell. Who would like to know what my mother's idea of home made soup is? Well, it's not Campbell's from the can, and it's not Lipton from the pouch, it's a combination of both. That's right, my mother pours out the Cambell's into a pot, dumps some water in, then tops it off with a pouch of Lipton's. I'd type up some analogy as to how bad it is... BUT IT MADE ME BLIND!!! I CAN'T SEE!!!!!! Ok, just kidding, but it really tasted like crap. To top it off she didn't boil her chemistry experiment long enough and all the noodles from the pouch were raw. I swear if she wouldn't give me so much hell when I make my own dinner I'd get a restraining order against her food. Luckily Loblaws made the rest of my dinner so I'm still alive to post this.

Also I realized this weekend that I'm a totally different person when I don't have to deal with people I don't like. What can I say, it's kind of hard to be sociable when you're around people about half as intelligent as a quarter of a brick. It's a little late to make new year's resolutions, but I'm doing it anyway, good luck trying to stop me. In 2005, I will avoid everyone that I don't like in social situations. Those that I can't avoid, I will kill.

Finally, I'm now officially a personal trainer. This means that I'm gonna run my mouth for a little while. If it pisses you off, then fuck you. If it doesn't piss you off, then fuck you. If you're cheese, then handlebar moustache.

Bite me

2005-02-12T14:41:00.000-05:00

HOLY CRAP!!!! I HAVE A BLOG!!! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN????

Yea it's been a while. You may think I've been really busy, but you'd be wrong, my mind has just been elsewhere. Furthermore, I've come to the conclusion that I have to "take it like a man" in respect to certain things. Like moving out. It's damn hard to find an appartment in this city, especially when you're on a limited budget. Plus who the hell will give me a 6 month lease? So yea, I'll tough it out here for 6 months, but I'll just treat everyone like shit.

Each day seems to be nothing but an advertisement to leave this fucking city. I have deterined that some people try to drive with their dicks. It's the only possible explanation for such douchebaggery. Even drunk drivers put less lives in danger. Plus I can't stand the metro during rush hour anymore. The other day this fat bitch pushed a good 7 people asside yelling "move" as she quickly waddled away. If she'd move that fast on the treadmill she probably wouldn't need to push and shove in the first place. to top it all off the fucking jews keep asking me to pray with them. I don't know how many times I've had to say "sorry I'm not jewish." Believe it or not I really don't enjoy lying like that and I do feel bad once in a while but I'm sure god won't hate me more than them since it's quite a sin to fore religion upon people.

I don't have much to say and I'm not feeling particularly funny at the moment, so I'll end it here. I'll post more often however, don't want to keep my adoring public waiting. One last thing, Louis sucks!

You know what I hate?

2005-01-25T21:18:00.000-05:00

Everything. Actually that's not true, I love Spinal Tap. That was a great movie and those guys are fucking funny, especially live. What ticked me off today was my friend Louis telling me that what I said made no sense. Anyone who has read this blog at least once knows that while I still make a good few mistakes, were I to put any effort into writing my mastery of the English language would be quite apparent. That being said, he still persisted. This of course coming from a man who managed to use such formal English as "making a reference at being a cross-dresser or something in those lines." Yes folks, that is a direct quote. To me, it's rather obvious why he turned out this way. Clearly when he was just a little baby, his parents decided to forego the customary crib and kept him in a bathtub full of cleaning products. I'm sorry to say that if anyone doesn't understand what I write, you can play a nice quick round of hide and go fuck yourself. This is not an "English for people who drink Drano" class. Furthermore, in an argument about the English language, vulgarity is not necessary. I don't mean words like fuck, dumbass, hooker, or anything of the like since I don't consider those words vulgar. I'm speaking of references to family members in sexual situations. If such a strategy is considered logical in your mind, then I warn you, that type of logic could lead to shock therapy.

You'll never guess who I ran into today

2005-01-23T04:22:00.000-05:00

Give up? It was god, we had a nice little chat. Went something like this:

god: Hi Gill, how's it going?

me: Not bad, how about you?

god: Can't complain. Listen Gill, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you're going to hell.

me: Really? Well god, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but I already know.

god: Oh... ok... wanna go play a quick game of air hockey?

me: Sure!

I beat god 7 to 4.

Canada Post

2005-01-21T20:47:00.000-05:00

Ok, a few things to mention before I start this one. First off, today was my first day back at the gym since I caught ebola (by that I mean bronchitis). Now I've had more than two weeks to recover and I went stupid light on the weights but I still managed to nearly pass out. I couldn't even finish my workout, it was pretty fucked up. Hell I'm still feeling woozy now, clearly I'm not moving a muscle tonight. Second, Bishop's kicks ass. I left feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. Of course that was probably just from Ed's cooking, but that's ok, Ed is still cool and so are his friends. I have the strangest feeling that as of August I'll be a Bishop's student, then I'll have a valid excuse for living far away from my mother. Not that her being a crazy bitch isn't a valid excuse... but anyway.

Now then, I love Canada Post. When they're not busy being on strike or raising their prices, they're hard at work being the most inefficient postal service in the world, with the possible exception of countries that rely on the village donkey to deliver the mail. Clearly these monkeys have absolutely no clue what they're doing, and this isn't just a local thing, it's national. Not only are they faster than the speed of a senior citizen with a cane, but they've lost track of about as many packages as we've lost hockey games this year. This leads me to the first way I scam Canada Post.

Whenever I send something with a tracking number, half the time their system loses track of the package. Most of the time it makes it there anyway, but sometimes it doesn't and I have to make an insurance claim. A while back, one of the packages I sent never showed, I made the claim, got my money, and was about to send a refund to the buyer when he emails me telling me the package arrived. I checked the tracking number, it didn't say that the package arrived, so I decided to keep the insurance money anyway. This is in the process of happening a second time.

Let's discuss method #2 of scamming those morons. Canada Post does not offer international airmail for large packages, only surface. I had to send out a package to Italy today that was just a touch too big to be considered a small packet, an option that would have let me send it air. Surface for this thing would have been twice the price and it would have arrived by the time I'd grow a full beard. (Anyone who has seen my pathetic attempts at growing facial hair would understand just how long that is) So I go to the post office and ask to send it as a small package anyway thinking they won't know the difference. However, the Canada Post employee I landed on was a quick one and decided to measure the package and inform me that I'd have to send it surface. No problem, I got an idea. I got my hand on a small packet customs form, filled it out in advance, stuck it on the package, and took it to another post office. Without having to say a word, the package was on it's way to Italy at twice the speed and half the price, as a small packet.

You know what? I love being me.

If you're from California, I hate you

2005-01-17T18:36:00.000-05:00

That's right, I hate you. Too many people from California have wasted too much of my time. Today's idiot bought some veneer from me at 2 am and I woke up to emails saying PLEASE RUSH THIS I NEED IT YESTERDAY. Ok, no problem, overnight delivery costs a fuckload but I'm not paying, I don't care. I give him the total, tell him if he wants it by tomorrow I have to get it by 5:00. Not my rules, UPS's rules. Anyway, I end up getting my money at 5:10, and it's the wrong amount. Now he's not answering my emails. This is going to get ugly. To top things off, this guy owns a guitar shop... real professional.

Last idiot from California claimed I sent him the wrong veneer. First of all, I don't make mistakes. Second, for those who don't know, veneer is really thin wood. When I sell it, I sell pieces from the same bundle. This means they all look identical because they're from the same fucking tree. He still stood by his claim and when I refused to refund his money, he threatened to come kill me. That's right, a piece of wood is worth murdering someone... Anyway, I replied with directions to my house and a list of times when I'm there (it's not polite to keep people waiting) but alas I never got a reply. It's a shame, really. That assclown owned a guitar shop too. Notice a pattern here?

Finally, did you know that more turkeys are raised in California than in any other state? Well fuck the fucking turkeys!

So here's my conclusion, if you live in California, you're either a movie star, the owner of a shitty guitar shop, or a turkey. In any case, you deserve to die. In the last case, after you die, I will eat you.

The end.

Back from the dead

2005-01-16T22:20:00.000-05:00

Indeed I am. Don't have 100% of my voice back but I'm getting there, and at least now I don't just have my middle finger to let people know how I really feel. I'll tell you though, staying home and doing nothing is tough. I'm not kidding. Especially when you have to deal with a mother who's worse for society than an escaped convict and a sister, who, well, is a bitch. At least tomorrow I begin living again, hell maybe I'll even get back into the gym.

Speaking of, I'm sure I've expressed a desire to be 6'6" 300 pounds at a certain point. Well this desire still stands. My life would be quite different, and so would my blog. In fact, here's a little taste of what it would be like:

So today I was at the gym and saw some idiot doing bicep curls like he was on the elliptical trainer. Thanks to my size, I know he would've listened to me if I had decided to tell him he's wrong, but instead of talking I decided to show him the right way to do it. So I bicep curled the exact same dumbells, while he was still hanging on to them. Then I killed him. Then I found out where he lived and devoured his children. Then I went to the bank.

Exciting, isn't it? Unfortunately, I'm not 6'6" 300 pounds. In fact thanks to how sick I was, I'm now even smaller than my previously stated weight. What can I say, it's hard to eat when you're concentrating on breathing and trying real hard not to stab yourself with your own ribs.

Bet you didn't know

2005-01-10T19:58:00.000-05:00

Being sick has left me a lot of time for deep though and personal reflection. Since I like to share, here are some discoveries I have made over the past few days.

1 - It is in fact possible to stab yourself with your own ribs. It hurts, a lot. First person to laugh at my pain... I guess just gets to laugh at my pain, since I'm gonna be sick for a while.

2 - Passing out every two hours makes it real hard to keep track of time. Funny how I don't see this as a bad thing. It's probably how alcoholics live except I'm sure my breath smells better.

3 - Dodgeball works better than Tylenol. That movie kicks so much ass. "If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball." Man am I tempted to go around throwing wrenches at people, I could build the best dodgeball team ever!

4 - Gargling with whiskey does not work. Someone suggested it to me to help with my soar throat, problem is I never get the chance to gargle, cause I just drink it.

5 - People seem to like it better whan I can't talk... go figure.

Burnin' For You

2005-01-09T11:44:00.000-05:00

Ok, so maybe I'm not burnin' for you, or for anyone else, or for anything, nor am I burnin' period... SHUT UP!!! You'll have to excuse my altered state of consciousness, I have a lot of pills in me right now and I'm sure the various types of medications are somehow interacting in the same way the US and Iraq are. Uh oh, is Gill getting into politics? No, I'd need to have twice as many drugs in me, combined with a bottle of Jack Daniel's and some of that moonshine that once almost melted my eyeballs in Josh's basement. The reason for all the meds, asside from the fact that I'm fucked up, is bronchitis. I've had it before but I really don't recall it being so painful. In fact, last time I had it, I was still in good enough shape to go skydiving... This time around it's almost ubearable, and when I get better, I have to go search St-Catherine street for my left lung...

So something quick to get off my chest since I have to make room for my lung again. People piss me off. Yes, you already know this, so let me specify. Personal trainers piss me off. Having said this I'd like to point out that I just wrote my personal trainer's exam on Wednesday, but should I pass, I plan on being a good personal trainer, not like the ones they apparently have at Nautilus. While waiting for my teacher with Mel (he never showed by the way, hope he gets a kidney stone) I asked her about the program her trainer gave her. What a fucking shock. There's really nothig more to say, or at least nothing that I can say without excessive swearing. One exercise in particular pissed me off, think vertical chest press. Basically it's a movement in the transverse plane with a 90 degree shoulder flexion. I'm sure nobody has a clue what I'm talking about so let's put that in english. It's basically the equivalent of saying "Let's see if we can make your shoulders stronger by trying to rip your arms off." Makes you wonder why personal trainer sessions are so cheap at Nautilus. Oh, wait... NO IT DOESN'T!

I wish I were 6'6" and 320 pounds, cause at 5'10" 175 pounds nobody takes me seriously. My biceps aren't as big as my head and I can't bench press 8 people so I don't matter. Who cares that I can actually last an hour on the treadmill or that I have something like 10% body fat? And who cares that I'm apparently the only one at my gym who doesn't have some kind of muscle or joint injury? If I were 6'6", I think I'd hunt down all the Nautilus trainers and help them perfrom a spinal hyper-flexion. In english, that basically means I'd fold them in half. Hell, if I'm in a good mood I'll fold them in half the other way so that they could wear their asses for hats. I really really hate people.

Camera phones

2005-01-07T15:56:00.000-05:00

Next person to shove a camera phone in my face will get that very same camera phone shoved up their ass. I'm absolutely sick of these little things and I very much miss the days when cell phones were considered valuable tools as opposed to fashion accessories. Correct me if I'm wrong but isn't the whole point of technology to benefit mankind? These little "advancements" are about as beneficial as the plague... although I'm sure the plague was less irritating. In an age where digital cameras are cheap and plentiful, what's the point of shoving a low quality lens in your fucking phone? While you're at it, why not shove a radio in your wallet, a calculator in your cutlary, or better yet, a buttplug in your glasses.

Furthermore, there are way too many pitures of my ass floatig around. When I turn around because I don't want you to take my picture, this by no means is an initation for you to snap a shot of my derriere. There are way too many camera happy people out there. Sure, a picture every now and then is welcome but what the hell is the point of going through roll after role of film or megabyte after megabyte of memory? The same object or person will not look different within the span of an hour so there is really no need to take a picture within each 10 minute frame.

Pain

2005-01-02T18:54:00.000-05:00

I’m in a lot of it right now. I went skiing today for the first time in 21 years. Being 21 years old, you might wonder why I didn’t just say this was my first time skiing period. My response: “Shut up, this is my blog.” Anyway, I must say it was a lot of fun. I stuck to the green circle courses and tried to heed the warnings of my friends. The result? Well, let’s just say the mountain had its way with me… every possible position… twice sideways. I can recall one fall in particular where I was beaten to within an inch of my life. When I eventually got up, my skis, my poles, and my nearly lifeless corpse were spread about in a 30 meter radius. Come to think of it, I can’t really remember that fall… guess it’s a good thing I have a doctor’s appointment on the 12^th.

I only took 4 tumbles in total over what must have been 4 – 5 hours of skiing, so I’d still say I did pretty well for someone who had absolutely NO IDEA what the hell he was doing. Miraculously, throughout my falls, my sunglasses managed to remain intact. (Yes, I took sunglasses even though it was dark… I figured I might not survive this experience so why waste the money on goggles.) These sunglasses never cease to amaze me. They were never my favorite pair, but for at least 7 years now they’ve been alive ad kicking. I’m still haunted by the memories of my favorite pair though. They met with an untimely end when my friend Skrud sat on them. Had he not broken them, I still think I would have throw them away.

holy shit i'm drunk

2005-01-01T03:59:00.000-05:00

haooy new year toi the pandas and ONLY to the pandas

Change is good

2004-12-26T23:38:00.000-05:00

Yes, change is good. In fact, it's so good that I decided to change the template for my blog. Partly because the contrast was killing my eyes and the eyes of others, but mostly because I'm fucking bored. Just why am I bored? Well, it's because I'm trying to study for my personal trainer's exam. It's not that I don't like the material, I love the material, it's just that it's hard to get back into studying after the week I've had.

So expect quite a few posts around here. They won't be as funny as my last posts since I seem to be losing my sharp tongue. This is because I've been drinking against doctor's orders... I've been listening to my doctors for long enough and it hasn't done me any good, so it's time for a break.

I have nothing relevant to say, so I might as well give you a 4 word summary of the new Blade movie: DON'T GO SEE IT. Technically that can be considered five words, but keep in mind, alcohol + medication... Much like most movies, it has its moments, like watching a near 300 pound man pull an arrow out of his eye only to cuddle with a pomeranian... but their sum is not worth the price of a ticket unless you're going to the dollar cinema. I caution you however, should you go to the dollar cinema, don't expect to pee in urinal #3, since it's missing.

Ok, I've wasted enough time, I'm gonna get some sleep and see if I can make tomorrow my first productive day since Deember 18th.

Working today for a better Concordia tomorrow

2004-12-25T13:46:00.000-05:00

I'll admit it, I did bad this semester. Perhaps not bad by most people's standards, but bad by my standards. I only took two classes this semester and only managed a B and a C. Not good enough to boost my GPA, but not bad enough to lower it. I took comfort in the fact that everyone else was still doing worse than me and that the Bell curve would save my ass. When I saw my marks and considered that they were post-curve, I was quite disappointed in myself. Today however, I'm no longer disappointed. For the first time, I actually looked at the grade distribution. WHAT A DISASTER!!!! My low marks were still enough to land me in the top 10 of both my classes. Something that shouldn't be too difficult in my accounting class, considering the fact that only 10 people passed!!!!

That's right, you heard me, 10 people. Now I remember seeing about 40 people in my class at first. To top it off, mine was not the only section. It's clear to me that Concordia did not curve these marks, or if they did, then the only thing I have to say is wow. This does not look too good for Concordia, seeing as how I'd estimate the failure rate at a VERY generous 75%, assuming many people dropped out of all sections. Quite the black eye for John Molson, no? So in the spirit of the holidays, I've decided to make a few suggestions to Concordia as to how they can improve their image and become a better school.

1) Get rid of bad teachers. A good screening process would not be too hard to implement and a teacher shortage shouldn't concern them seeing as how they don't hire actual teachers anyway. And while I know it's very difficult to fire current teachers, thanks to the escalators in the Hall building, it wouldn't be too hard to make it look like an accident... if you catch my drift.

2) Change the name of the university to McGill. While the grading situation at McGill may not be any better, nobody ever looks down on McGill. They're like the figurative "boss' son", no matter how bad they fuck up nobody will utter a word about it because of who they are.

3) Kill the stupid people. I'll admit, this one benefits me more than it benefits Concordia, but since that is the case, I'm more than willing to help.

4) Base admission standards on a mandatory IQ test as opposed to academic achievement. Let's be honest, grades don't mean dick. Based on the current standards, I can't get into John Molson, while people who are still asking the question "what's a derivative" are about to graduate (Calculus being a pre-req). I say an IQ test should be submitted along with the application form. Those who score within the barnyard animal range just don't belong in university. Furthermore, in my humble opinion, those who do score within that range should just be shot.

To be honest, I can't think of any other suggestions. For you see, a school like Concordia doesn't need a quick fix, it needs to be blown up and rebuilt from scratch. Since I know this will never happen, I've decided to look for a new school. And no, I won't be turning to McGill. I'll take the arabs over the americans any day of the week.

By the way, merry Christmas.

A cry for help

2004-12-22T18:09:00.000-05:00

Hey look at that! No sarcasm or jokes in this post either, I just need some help. Here's the situation thusfar. During my first semester at Concordia, I managed to fail two classes and pass my third with an impressive D+, all leading up to a mind blowing GPA of 0.65. Don't ask me how it happened... I'd say nervous breakdown but I refuse to believe it. I gave myself a kick in the ass, stopped taking my engineering courses, and managed to finish my next five classes with a GPA of 3.8, bringing my cummulative to 2.53. This semester however was not impressive, what with my B and my C, so my GPA has remained at 2.53. I was thinking I'd transfer into Commerce, but after this semester I realized it's not for me, much like engineering. The one program I'm interested in has a required GPA of 3.0, which would take me a very long time to get. To make matters worse, I've used up all my electives trying to get into fucking commerce. This is my last ditch effort before dropping out of school, can anyone figure something out for me?

Here are some helpful guidelines:

1- I'm not a hippie
2- I'm good at math, but I'm fucking sick of it
3- I like physics, but what the hell would I do with a degree in physics, and again, the math...
4- I like economics, but not the the extent where I would onsider a degree in it
5- I love the gym, I love sports, I love the whole health and activity aspet. Unfortunately, excercise science at Conordia has a min GPA of 3.0, and I refuse to graduate a 90 credit program with 120 credits... I'm taking a personal training certification course, but it is by no means a degree.
6- I do not want a degree for the sake of hanging it on my wall, it had better be relevant to the real world and my life. For example, how would a phylosophy degree ome in handy when I'm training a client?
7- I've always known what I hate less, but I'm only starting to discover what I like. For example, I now know I like cooking.

The easy answer is that a university degree is not 100% necessary these days, but my mother will not leave me alone about it. It's gotten to the point where I have 3 options. I can either kill myself, kill her, or get a degree. This is my last ditch effort at the least messy option, so if anyone can help, it would be much appreciated.

A general Gill update

2004-12-21T23:58:00.000-05:00

I just got home with a very profound understanding as to just why my doctor has advised me not to drink. I've been a bit of a wreck lately, lots of headahes, lots of falling asleep in the middle of the day (today I managed to do it on my feet) and lots of forgetting. I swear I'd forget my own nuts if they weren't dangling from me. However, I've been having a lot of fun lately, met some very cool new people, and found out that I like to cook. I have't been fired from my job yet, so it's time to start some shit since I know nobody has the guts to do anything about it.

Problems with my mother persist however. This morning shocked even me. My mother wanted me to start her car then lock the key inside, a very simple concept. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was last night's Sake, but somehow I had the impression that I'd end up dragging the key around for the rest of the day. This led to some confusion on my part, yet no yelling or anything negative. After about 2 min however, my mother just threw a bag of garbage across the room and started crying, blubbering about how I never do anything for this family and that nobody can dare ask anything of me. I don't know where that came from, but I've gien up trying to *solve* problems in this family long ago so I just left the house.

I need out, this is clear, but I'm still in the stages of trying to figure out my own life. It presents quite the distraction. I have a job interview tomorrow morning to be a trainer at the Y, with any luck I'll get the job and it will be my first step in becoming a personal trainer and maybe, just maybe, doing something I enjoy. I just realised that throughout this entire post, I haven't cracked one joke or made one sarcastic remark. Could this mean a new Gill? No, and you can all go fuck yourselves for even thinking that. I'm just not feeling well, that's all :P

Quotes

2004-12-18T17:44:00.000-05:00

Quotes are used every day, be it for essays, interviews, or just general conversation. Quotes that are used are often meaningful, thought provoking, true to life, spiritual... and so on. Bull all that crap is boring. So here are some quotes I came up with while waiting for my exam to start today. Good luck finding any hidden meaning in these babies!

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - I took the bus."

"Pain is temporary, but man does it hurt"

"If at first you don't succeed..." (I never finished this one, since at first I didn't succeed)

"A bird in the hand is worth... well... a bird... less since it's probably dead."

"Life is like a game of Jenga, you take a block from the bottom and you put it on top"

Feel free to quote me on any of these.

Driving in a winter wonderland... with a Toyota

2004-12-13T08:21:00.000-05:00

There's nothing quite like being out and about before the street cleaners. Especially when you have your mother in the passenger seat. I drove the crazy bitch to work today. I really hate our car... in large part because it doesn't have winter tires, my mom just refuses to get them. Even when I point out things like "Hey mom, do you know why we're sliding when I brake from a speed of 20?" or "Hey mom, do you know why the car doesn't move when I press the accelerator?" the bitch stands firm, claiming she doesn't have time to deal with it. Funny how she doesn't have time for something like winter tires, yet she has plenty of time for 7 month old tapes of The Young & The Restless. Bessides, I already told her I'd do it, but the stupid bitch still refuses. I must admit however, the tires aren't the only reason why this car is unsafe. See, it's a Toyota. I don't know why everyone raves about Toyotas, especially the Corolla... a 3-legged turtle would have an easier time getting through the snow, that and better protection in a crash. Let me go through the Toyota line up for you real quick, since my family owns all 3 of the basic models.

First the Echo. My sister and brother in law own one of these. I love it, but only because it reminds me of go-karting. Now I'm not a large man, 5'10", roughly 177 punds, a build that can be described anywhere from average to fit, yet I still feel like I can pull an Incredible Hulk and toss this thing up on a roof top when I get pissed off. In fact, why honk at the moron driver in front of you when you can just hurl your car at him? Other than driving like a go-kart, it's about as safe as one. In fact, I think my mechanic put it best. "If you're driving an Echo, and you get into an accident with a bicycle, you're as good as dead."

Next on the chopping block we have the Corolla, my mother's car. It's like someone stretched out an Echo and put in a faux wood interior... they didn't even stretch it out all that much since I can fit into the Echo quite nicely yet I drive with my knees in the Corolla. I can almost guarantee you this thing has the exact same engine as the Echo, and if you can believe it, shittier brakes. Add to that optional power windows that no longer work at -1, a set of windshield wipers that actually make your view worse, and a horn that sounds like the the death cry of the beloved Roadrunner, et voila, you have a Corolla.

Finally, the Camry, once again belonging to my sister and brother in law. They don't need a second car, much like they don't need that $4000 entertainment system in their appartment, because they're always HERE. If you ask me, the Camry is just as crappy as the other two, it's just bigger, but a bigger piece of shit is still a piece of shit. Only big difference is that the brakes have a hairline trigger. Unlike the Echo and Corolla, you don't have to press very hard for the brakes not to work and slam you into an immobile object. In fact I think that's how my sister got into an accident or two, but you never know seeing as how she drives like Ray Charles. (That last one was for anyone who has ever watched the Super Dave Osborne Show)

Don't get me wrong, if someone offered me a Toyota for free I'd take it, but only to sell it off and buy a real car with the money.

Cocaine

2004-12-08T16:31:00.000-05:00

Ok, so maybe this isn't about cocaine, but I just wanted to get your attention. There's one thing that I absolutely LOVE about winter: People fall, and it's funny. I mean have you seen the sidewalks? I love how walking in the middle of a busy street is actually the safer alternative! Of course, I myself have fallen once or twice in the past, and will likely do so this year as well, but it's still funny. As a driver, this pisses me off since I now have people to dodge asside from the usual Montreal traffic, which asside from cars also includes bikers, shopping carts, and flying emus. On the other hand, as a pedestrian, I'm thinking "Fuck you, if you don't like it, give me a lift." Now I shouldn't be the only one who loves our sidewalks of doom, they could be of great economic benefit to our city. Think about it, for a small fee, instead of wasting money on the electric chair, Texas can just fly over all their convicts and let 'em lose for I'd say... 10 minutes. Those who make it, you can just shoot on the street... I mean it's Montreal... we've had worse.

Unfortunately, the sidewalks are just about the only thing I love, or even like about winter. Driving is particularly bad this time of year. Not so much because of road conditions, but because of stupid people. When the middle of the road is free and clear, there is really no need to go 25 km below the speed limit. Especially when you have 3 cars behind you collaborating on a horn symphony (I was car #4, my honking was a moot point). Driving should not be bad in the winter. It is bad however, because people do stupid things, go way to slow to have their driving considered safe, and refuse to put on some winter tires. My car has all season tires because my mother believes in them, aren't you glad to know that I'm part of the problem in both winter and summer? Driving asside, I'm sure you can all figure out what I hate most about winter. My mother.

Last winter, we had a guy who cleaned our driveway. He sucked. He actually sucked for about 3 years, all 3 of which I was telling my mother to stop using this assclown. Finally, I'm happy to say he no longer cleans our driveway, not because my mother stopped using him, but because he retired. So for the past 3 months, I've been hearing my mother desperately cry that she has nobody to clean the driveway. Trying to convince her that those guys aren't exactly an endangered species however, is like trying to have an intelliget conersation with peanut butter. At one point I even slammed the phone book down in front of her, open to the "snow removal" page. It ended in her screaming something about me not having any respect for this family.

So here are my mother's 2 possible winter-time solutions. The first is to store the car in the garage for the entire winter, basically making it a car for the summer. Now the whole point of buying a car for the summer is if you already have a car for the winter and you buy something stylish, not when you have no other means of transportation and you buy a Toyota Corolla with a "Super Mom" vanity plate on the front. Of course this idea will not work, since much like the rest of my house, my garage is full of crap. Her second idea is leaving the car out all winter. Another brilliant idea... really. She won't even let me park it in the driveway for fear that it'll get stuck there. Only problem with this idea is that she thinks she's too old and frail to dig the car out after snowstorms. The outside observer would likely agree, since she constantly complains of knee pain and occasionally liked to walk around the house with a cane until my grandmother needed it. Either solution leaves me screwed. I'll either have no car for the winter, or I'll have my mother waking me up every morning at 6 am to dig her car out. On the plus side, at least with the second option I'd have a shovel in my hands for when her back is turned...

Burnt out

2004-12-05T02:17:00.000-05:00

No, I'm not actually burnt out, I'm still doing ok. What's burnt out is one of the lights in my basement. It's really pissing me off since the light in my basement is shit to begin with. It's quite fitting in the grand scheme of things actually. I figure I'm deaf like an old man and get sick like an old man, so I might as well be blind like an old man, it just gets annoying wandering around in the semi-dark all the time. Mind you, this is a good business opportunity. I should rent this place out to ugly people so that they can't really see themselves. It'll be good for their self esteem and good for my wallet. I know that wasn't very nice but it's 2 am, I'm too tired to be nice, and my knee still hurts.

The dim light is not the worst aspect of this basement at the moment. See it's winter time, and that means static electricity time. It gets mighty annoying. To make matter worse, my house is full of carpets, which are placed on top of other carpets, which are placed on top of wall to wall carpeting. Do the math. Not only that, but I have hair down to my nipples and a hairy ass. Sorry to make you picture that, but again, it's 2 am, I just don't give a shit. The multiplication factor of all the hair rubbing against the clothing rubbing against the carpet is enough, I'm sure, for my body to be used as the death penalty in Texas. Who needs an expensie chair when you can just fly me in to have me reach out and melt someone? And if you think this is bad, wait until I get cold and break out the fleece sweater. We're talking enough power for a third world country... if I'd give a damn about charity that is.

I haven't had any talks at work yet, big boss wasn't in. Saw my boss the other day but my better judgement got a hold of me and I decided not to rock the boat. As much as I bitch, $9.50 an hour at my age for the kind of work I do is damn good compared to most, if not all of my friends. My boss even had the gull to ask me for a favor, but I did it. He needed me to move all the stuff from his desk. You learn a lot about a man by going through his desk. I'm not saying a copy of Maxim and some hand lotion aren't very common things to be found in a man's desk, it's just when you find them next to each other, a stone's throw away from the tissue box, you can't help but wonder...

Other than that, I've been studying. Go figure. Marketing mostly since I can't bring myself to study accounting. My marketing book is quite terrible. The phone book is a more exciting read, with the dictionary coming in a close second and my marketing book lagging behind, a distant third. It should actually be fourth, but I didn't think it was fair to count ketchup packets. Now it may just be the fatigue, but a lot of the phrases in my marketing book just don't seem as coherent as the phrases coming from my Rice Crispies. To make matters worse, I've had to eat about a pound of chocolate while reading this book, the sugar is the only thing keeping me awake. I'm quite certain that reading this book has the same effect as getting hit over the head with it, although I think the latter of the two would result in less brain damage. I've also managed to prove this book wrong. See in chapter 10, the book defines a service as something that is intangible. That's not true. Case in point, a hooker. The book further defines a service as something that "cannot be seen, tasted, felt, heard, or smelled before purchase." I think you all know where I'm going with this...

Where are you Gill? Have you forsaken us?

2004-11-30T23:23:00.000-05:00

No, I haven't. I've been busy. So busy you don't have time to complain? Yes. Let's list what I've been up to, shall we?

- A group project handed in today that went horribly wrong. So wrong in fact that it resembled the rantings of a drunken lunatic. Or for the sake of an easier visual, me on new year's.

- An excessive amount of bullshit from my job. A job that it would appear I'm about to get fired from. I can't wait for this. I'm either gonna prove everyone wrong or quit in such a blaze of glory that the company will need to hire a hypnotist to prevent future revolts. (Get it? to wash my actions out from the memories of others...)

- A sister who's being even more of a bitch than normal cause she's pregnant. By the way, I'm gonna be an uncle. Uncle Gill, frightning, I know but it could be worse. The word daddy comes to mind... At least this way the terror I can train the kid to unleash on the world is limited.

- An overwhealming amount of sales that my business just rung in. Last thing I should be complaining about is a 700$ influx of cash but holy hell I don't think I thought this through...

- My job. Did I mention this twice? Well good, cause I'm getting shit from 2 fronts. My boss' secratary and my boss' boss. Why? Cause my boss has no balls. In fact I'm willing to bet that the size of his balls are in the negatives. When I finally track him down and have a little chat with him, my own balls will have to grow a bit so that we can have an average sized set between the two of us.

- Exams. Ok, so everyone has exams, but I pulled another "why am I in school?" episode this semester and didn't go to my classes. I brought this upon myself however, so I'm not gonna bitch about it.

- My extended family. It's full of gambling addicts. This one woman wants me to check lotto numbers for her, because her computer isn't working well (i.e. she's dumb and is still trying to move the arrow on the screen with the arrows on the keyboard). Of course, I underestimated her stupidy. You see, there were no actual drawings on the dates she gave me... this wild goose chase is joyful, really.

- Last but not least, my knee hurts. It's a valid point, so piss off.

Each one of these points deserves further elaboration, but in case you haven't noticed the point of this whole rant, I don't have time. No worries, nothing can stop my bitching for long.

I'm gonna run you over, then I'm gonna check out the specials of the week.

2004-11-23T19:50:00.000-05:00

I just got home from Walmart. Technically speaking I should still be in my marketing class for the next 25 minutes. Of course, technically speaking, that would only apply if I had gone to class in the first place. I hate Walmart. It's crowded and full of ugly people. Still, it's damn close to my house and when you need shit, you need shit. For those of you who are curious, today's shit consisted of Blistex, some bandaids, a few protein bars, and the biggest bottle of Motrin they had. Since my latest initiative is to stop looking like a bum, I went to check out the shirts real quick. Walmart has some ugly stuff... It's even hard for me to find pants there that don't make me look like I'm straight out of the trailor park. Even when I do find pants, the only damn size they have is 40 x 34. Oddly enough, there was actually one shirt there that didn't look like my friend's couch the morning after a party, so I bought it before anyone realized it belonged in a real store.

Now ugly people asside, a big reason why I hate Walmart, and most large stores for that matter, are the narrow isles. This would be no problem for normal people who walk in, get what they need, and walk out. Of course, for most people, a trip to Walmart is like a sight seeing adventure. Your average couple will just sit there, jaws to the floor, gasping at the miracle that is Lipton's sidekicks, while the rest of us have to bottleneck through, trying not to knock over the shopping cart that contains their bratty little kid. Even worse then those are the ones who walk without stopping, just very very slowly. As if they're going to miss out on what they need for the rest of eternity because they didn't notice it on the shelf the first time around. While this is acceptible when you're buying a car or tv, if you're shopping for a fucking pack of gum or some candy, taking longer than 30 seconds should be a crime punished by torture. Death is too good for those idiots. I'd go around them if I could, but the average Walmart customer has an ass the size of a shopping cart.

Speaking of shopping carts, people really have to watch where they're going with those things. In the 15 minutes I spent in Walmart, I almost got hit 7 times, and I actually did get hit another 2. Worst of all, half of those shopping carts contained no more than some shaving cream and a discout DVD. People just do not know how to drive these things. One woman was basically bouncing hert cart off each display. Her kid was sitting in the front and happened to have a rather large bandaid on her forehead... wonder how she got that... Driving a shopping cart should be much like driving a car. A licence must be required and certain things should be against the law. For each infraction however, instead of getting a ticket, people will get a severe beating. After the beating, should the people fail to pick themselves off the floor and clear the way for other motorists, a second beating will ensue. Wishful thinking, I know, but a man can dream can't he?

Marketing

2004-11-22T14:26:00.000-05:00

Over the past few months, I have noticed 2 somewhat disturbing trends in my life. The first being my deteriorating health (more physical than mental in case anyone is wondering), the second being my increasing exposure to stupid people. I'll leave these two trends open to interpretation but the conclusion should be obvious to anyone who isn't a cause of the second trend. This second trend is primarily thanks to work and school, school being the more taxing of the two at the moment.

I was supposed to have a meeting with my marketing group today. Just to bring everyone up to speed, at the start of the semester my marketing class was informed of a group project worth 25% of our grades. The project consists of creating a new product and developing a 20 page marketing plan. Now I hate group work, since I know in advance that any group I end up with will consist of idiots. This time around proved me right once again. Our product is called the Digital Waiter. I'm sure you can figure it out from the imaginative tittle. Yes, it's a lame idea and it already exists, but the only other idea was this half assed system of mirrors and cameras, designed to catch on tape anyone who hits your car from behind or the side. A real nice idea, if you'll be trying to identify the other car by the grill and the headlights... My idea was a reversible window system for office buildings that would drastically slash the cost and time needed to clean them. I know my idea wasn't much better but if I had a good idea I certainly wouldn't waste it on a marketing project.

Anyway, back to the meeting. I was the only one who showed up. It was wonderful, really, especially considering we have 2 pages complete and the project is due in 8 days. Asside from myself, my group consists of two girls and another guy. The first girl is Arabic, and I have nothing against her, except for the fact that she got 60 on the midterm... that's one mark for every HOUR she claims to have studied. I studied 83% less than her for my 75. The second girl is Russian and dresses like a 10 cent whore. To make things worse, while she is not repulsively fat, she appears to be built like a rhino. She can barely blurt out a word of english, which is to be expected, but I'm willing to bet money that her thoughts aren't even coherent in her mother tongue. The other guy is clearly Canadian, yet he writes as if he were a southern hick educated on the farm (by the animals I might add). For the produt proposal, I made the mistake of letting him do the final editing after my initial work. Not only did he not fix the obvious mistakes, he added new ones and turned my nice formal english into something that can only be described as "lunch lady dialect." Even when I was dictating to him, what ended up on the computer was a few 3 cent words placed into an almost legible sentcnce.

Now we're cheating a little and using a program called Marketing Plan Pro. It's great, tells you exactly what to write. I missed one of the meetings thinking it wasn't a big deal, the program does the work for them. When seeing the results of the meeting however, I was in shock. Not only was their work plagued by spelling and grammar mistakes (my favorite being only one space after every period) but they even managed to write the wrong things in each section. Here you have a program that tells you exactly what to write, practically doing the work for you, and yet you manage to get it wrong. What am I going to do about this? Nothing, because I stopped caring a long time ago about school. I still care about stupid people however, and one day when they're all rounded up close together, I'm going to crush them with a gigantic musical donkey... (another Worms reference). Speaking of Worms, it's time to blow off some steam with an exploding sheep.

4 big reasons why I need to move out

2004-11-19T01:11:00.000-05:00

I often hear things like “wait until you finish school” or “you have it good at home” in regards to my plans to move out. I even agree that to the outside observer, a 21 year old student packing up his shit and heading out may seem a little foolish. Well let me prove the contrary, by pointing out 4 major factors in my decision to abandon ship. Strap in folks, this might be a long one.

1) Food

My mother can’t cook for shit. Last time my mother steamed some veggies, she decided to mix them with the store bought frozen veggies… I still haven’t figured out why. While the store bought carrot tasted like a carrot, my mother’s carrot tasted like a combination of mashed potatoes and sidewalk. Ok, easy solution, make your own dinner, right? Wrong. You see my mother gets very offended and very upset when I do that. In fact, the only way I can get out of eating her food is going out to eat, and I just can’t afford it on a nightly basis. I once got into a discussion with my mother about moving out (a discussion, not her screaming that I’m making a big mistake and throwing my life away). Her argument was that I can’t live without home cooked meals. I didn’t say anything to her, but I’d just like to point out that her idea of a home cooked meal is a Lipton’s “cup-a-soup” followed by some pre-packaged chicken brochettes (Loblaws makes good stuff) and some chinese food leftovers. In fact, that was tonight’s dinner. Please note that to my mother, chinese food is officially considered “home cooked” one full day after it is ordered.

2) My sister

I hate my sister, it’s no secret. Feel free to read through my blog for some of the reasons why. Now my sister lives in a rather large condo, downtown, with her husband. This condo used to belong to my grandfather. Once he passed away, we had to make some changes, and she ended up getting the condo rent free. She still pays the expenses but they’re well worth it considering it’s a fucking condo… downtown… and it’s rent free. Despite all this, my sister still spends an average of 10 hours a day here. In fact, for a period of about 9 months, her and her husband LIVED here. That’s right, they slept in the basement, had my mother make then food, and even had her do their laundry. My sister is a 26 year old teacher and my brother in law is a 28 year old manager for The Bay. There is no excuse for this. So now you ask, “why don’t they move in here and I’ll take the apartment?” Simple, nobody in my family uses an ounce of logic. I don’t want the apartment anyway since my mother still insists on running the show over there (i.e. deals with the bills and has my sister owe her money). She does this quite inefficiently too, considering my grandfather passed away 10 years ago but the bills are still in his name. Not only that, but the condo is likely the only place left in the city that still doesn’t have the touch-tone phone service. That’s right, dial a number and you don’t get beeps, you get a series of pulses.

3) The animals

There are animals in my house. A dog and a bird to be precise. The dog actually belongs to my sister but she’s here all day anyway. Now I really don’t mind the animals, I dare say that I enjoy having them round. What I don’t like, and what really pisses me off, is that both my mother and my sister talk to the animals. Ok, so everyone talks to animals, even I’ll say a word or two, but how many people have ever been woken up I the morning by a crazy Romanian woman having a 15 MINUTE COVERSATION WITH A BIRD?!?!?!? My sister is even worse, she’ll talk to the dog the same way you would talk to a baby, making up words and making all sorts of cute noises that are likely damaging the baby’s hearing. This pisses me off to a ridiculous extent, as it would any normal human being. My psychopath of a mother has even told my sister to shut up on numerous occasions. It’s not the kind of frustration I need in addition to the frustration I get from people being stupid.

4) Crap

There is a lot of crap in my house. I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before but let’s see, off the top of my head I can think of the stacks of newspapers from 1998, the ridiculous amount of useless furniture and electronics, the multiple layers of carpets ON TOP of wall to wall carpeting, oh and let’s not forget the 9 year old Jello that is still sitting in my pantry. In fact, for the sake of getting more specific, let’s examine the contents of one of the 3 desks in my basement. Let’s see, we have my sister’s “March to Jerusalem” passport from 1987, some medical bills from 1992, about 7 empty jewelry boxes, 13 unused photo albums, income tax papers dating back to 1993, 5 lamps, 6 calculators that look older than me… getting the picture? Now imagine a whole house full of this shit. And I don’t mean neatly stored away, I mean it’s EVERYWHERE.

So after all this, I’ll bet you’re wondering why I’ve waited so long to move out. Well so am I! But I’m ready now, just having trouble finding a place. See I need a 3 & ½ that comes with locker storage and access to a workshop or maintenance area of sorts where I can do some spray painting without my neighbors dying from the fumes. I found a building that seems perfect but who knows when an apartment will be available. If anyone knows a place, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LET ME KNOW!!!!

What happens when you cut in line

2004-11-15T16:31:00.000-05:00

Seed of Chucky sucked. Had to get that off my chest. I went to see it Saturday night and walked out with an in-depth understand of just why my marketing teacher claims he hasn't seen a movie in 20-some years. There was one funny scene throughout the whole damn movie, and yes, I'm going to ruin it for you. At one point, Chucky takes an axe and and starts hacking through a wooden door, sticking his face through the hole in typical Jack Nicholson style. Instead of saying what we were all expecting however, Chucky comes out with "Gee, I can't think of a thing to say... Oh well!" Now that was damn funy, and well worth about 1/97th of the ticket price.

While waiting in line to buy my ticket, some moron decides to cut in front of me as I'm taking my steps towards the box office. Now I'm a big talker, I know how to use a sword, I'm with one guy who's done martial arts for 20 years and another who once told me he can chest press 75 pound dumbells clean, yet I decide to let this insignificant little flea fart live. (Credit for the "flea fart" must go to Amanda) But why Gill? why not do the world a favor and put him in a coma? Well boys and girls, it's because I know what happens to people that cut in line. For those who don't, let me tell you the story of little Johnny.

Little Johnny had this nasty habbit of cutting in line. He always wanted to be the first for everything. This habbit grew as did little Johnny. One day, Johnny cut in line for a job interview and managed to land himself a dream job! The women flocked to Johnny, impressed with his job, and he ended up marrying a wonderful woman that made him happier than he could ever dream. To top things off, they had two absolutley perfect children. And they all lived happily ever after... until they got crushed by a tree.

Makes you think, doesn't it?

Don't you people have anything better to do with your time?

2004-11-12T16:17:00.000-05:00

It would appear that my blog is getting a lot more exposure than I thought it would. Random people have been visiting and some have even been leaving commets, some praising me, some correcting my beliefs. Both are welcome. The only type of comment that is not welcome, is obvious advertisement (a comment which was promptly deleted). One comment to my last post however was really just plain unnecessary. For those of you who want to read it but can't quite figure out how the internet works, just click HERE and scroll down.

Someone actually took the time to write a 757 word comment to my blog. (No, I didn't count, that's what Word is for dipshits1) Anyone who would waste their life reading my bullshit then writing more than me in response clearly has way too much time on their hands and no social life. Two habits likely picked up from their schoolyard days, when the others kids wouldn't play with them. What's my excuse? Simple, I do often have too much time on my hands and my social life is rather limited because there are a lot of people and things that I hate. At least I have the balls to admit it and not hide behind the word "Anonymous".

For the record, while I do believe in a good part of the things I write, most of my writing, as most people know, is meant to be a joke. Say it with me... J-O-K-E. You think with all that free time you'd eventually pick up a dictionary... Why on earth would anyone waste their time presenting the other side of the story when the first side was for shits and giggles? Furthermore, this is not a cry for attention, this is not the release of my inner exhibitionist (especially when the outer exhibitionist is let out to play on a daily basis) and this certainly isn't an immitation of Howard Stern. Have you read any fart jokes or the word "boobies" repeated in an endless loop? Plain and simple, this is what most well adjusted and sane people call a creative outlet. While I claim to be neither well adjusted nor sane, the previous statement still stands.

But I refuse to argue any further. After all, arguing over the internet is like competing in the special olympics. If you don't know the rest of that, then good luck in the 2006 games. If you have something to say, make your own blog, don't leave long winded comments on mine. If you don't like what I have to say, then leave, and die on your way out. I'm not writing all this to get a message across, I'm writing it to put a smile on someone's face, because that's what puts a smile on mine.

Save the whales... for breakfast

2004-11-10T01:33:00.000-05:00

In Hollywood, it would appear that being an activist for animal rights is a very popular thing. Since I've always considered myself hip and trendy (this is NOT the part where you should be laughing), I've decided to become an activist for animal rights as well. I feel that too many animals are being stripped of their rights, and I refuse to stand idly by and watch it happen. These are the rights that I'll now fight to defend.

1) The right to be eaten. Let's face it, life is tough. As a human being, I know that many times I haven't wanted to deal with my problems, and being eaten seemed like a welcome option. If animals are so smart they must realize that life sucks, and many of them have probably lost the will to live. I think we're doing them a favor by eating them. Remember, you don't have to deal with any bullshit when you're part of someone's sandwich.

2) The right for all other animals to kick the shit out of the dolphins. Nobody likes dolphins, if you do, it's because you can't see that they're nothing more than attention whores. Dolphins always have to be the subject of scientific research, they always want the spotlight. A dolphin will never be happy playing second banana. What the hell makes them so smart anyway? And dammit why do people think that noise they make is so damn cute? My old car used to make the same noise every winter... I didn't find it cute coming from an 87 Oldsmobile, I sure as hell don't find it cute coming from a dolphin. They'll even go so far as to get themselves killed for attention. They hated the thought of people enjoying their tuna and with a "me too" mentality, they went right ahead and got themselves caught in the tuna nets. There's a real sign of intelligence for you.

3) The right to have people who feed the birds executed. Scientific fact time! If you feed a bird for long enough, it will become dependant on you and will no longer be able to provide for itself. It might even go so far as to go against the urge to migrate south for the winter. Now kids, can you tell me who feeds the birds? That's right, it's the elderly! And what do the elderly do come winter time? Well, those who don't go to Florida, often die... either way, those birds seem pretty fucked now don't they? (See, I'm not all bad... well that and old people piss me off)

4) The right to wear fur. If it hasn't been outlawed for humans, I see no reason why animals can't do it. Animals get cold in the winter too you know... letting them freeze is selfish and cruel. And if wearing fur makes a lot of human beings feel good, who's to say it won't do the same for animals? I'm sure Bambi wouldn't have been so sad if she had her mother's carcass to keep her warm through the chilly winter.

I sincerely hope my cause will gain some support, the mistreatment of animals has gone too far and the time for action is now! Together, hand in hand with such gentle creatures as cougars, grizzly bears, and sharks, we can build a better tomorrow. And at least put a band-aid on today.

Hey Jesus, what's up dude?

2004-11-09T08:18:00.000-05:00

People nowadays are way too open and expressive about their religions and beliefs. It really pisses me off. Jew, christian, muslim, or otherwise, my message to you is the same: SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear about how god saved your life, I don’t want to hear about how religion makes the world a better place, and I certainly don’t want to hear about how I’ll only know true happiness if I let Jesus into my heart. I am anti-religion. Don’t get confused now, this doesn’t mean I’m anti-god. While I don’t believe in him/her/it (trying real hard not to offend anyone here), this certainly doesn’t mean that I think any belief in a divine creator is fool hearted. I just say you should keep your beliefs to yourself, because the only people who want to hear them belong to Oprah’s book club…

That actually reminds me of a day long ago when I popped into the kitchen to grab some lunch. My sister was watching Oprah and her guest was a recovering heroin addict who was blubbering about the rehab process and how her beliefs are getting her through it. At one point she said something like “Jesus loves me, I talk to him every day”. At this point I wanted to slam my can of tuna down in anger and yell “No you don’t you stupid bitch, Jesus died 2000 years ago!” Of course I didn’t, realizing she wouldn’t hear me because she’s off in Buttfuck, Montana hoping to get a little more out of her 15 minutes of fame than just public humiliation and a signed copy of Oprah’s book. I can just imagine how her conversations with Jesus would go:

Stupid Bitch: Hey Jesus, what’s up?
Jesus: Not much, how you doing?
Stupid Bitch: I’m ok, so catch any good movies lately?
Jesus: No, because I’M DEAD!!!!!

Ever see that show Touched by an Angel? There’s another fine example of having god’s grace and love shoved down your throat. Every week it was the same message: “God loves you… and now a word from our sponsors.” Their sponsors, by the way, were Hallmark… enough said. I forget who the actors were, but one of the angles was played by a huge black woman. No way in hell could she be an angel. Think about it, if god really loved her, you think she’d be that fat? (I know that’s not a nice thing to say but I’m not a nice person, if I were, I probably wouldn’t be writing this in the first place)

The jews are the same way. Only difference is they're a minority so nobody cares about what they have to say. Problem is, living in a Jewish community, I have to deal with them regularly. I hate nothing more than walking into the gym only to be greeted by two jews asking me to put on tphilin and pray. What a dumb concept, as if the only way god will hear your prayers is if you’ve got stretched leather wrapped so tightly around your arm and head that you experience first hand what it’s like to be a stroke victim… Next time one of those jews asks me if I’m jewish, I’m going to reply with “Jesus will forgive you for your misguided sins, my brother.”

At least I’ve reserved a window seat for my one way trip to hell…

Be careful what you say in the Cavendish mall...

2004-11-07T01:13:00.000-05:00

So I haven't bitched all week... I've been busy sleeping. Sleep should have been on the agenda tonight but I slept until 12 this morning and my body wouldn't have been able to go to sleep early, so I went out to dinner with my friends Adam and George. George is the man. Adam not so much. Dinner was ok and we had some good wrestling discussions, after which we managed to kill some more time at Blockbuster of all places. There was clearly nothing to do however, so it looked to be an early night. After dropping George off, it looked like it was my turn until Adam got the brilliant idea of going to the Cavendish mall. Reason being of course that there is supposedly some amateur wrestling going on. I was sure there wouldn't be... but I was bored... I mean this is Cavendish mall we're talking about... let me explain.

The Cavendish mall is located in the heart of Cote St-Luc and is therefore the gathering place of the jews, the elderly, and the elderly jews. It's basically Decarie Square's bigger brother in the sense that stores are going out of business left and right, nobody makes any money, yet mysteriously the parking lot is constantly packed to the brim. Anyway, after a quick tour of the mall, no wrestling was to be found. I found something else though… just as interesting as wrestling. Right above the little café that used to be Al Van Houte (the one next to what used to be Eaton’s), there is a microphone hanging from the ceiling. Yes, a microphone. A little sketch but I figured it would be the only one and was left over from some sort of special display or decoration. I was wrong, as it would appear that these things are all over the mall. Now this is seriously fucked up. Is this the Cavendish mall’s version of a security camera? I know they’re cheap around there but come on… security cameras are not that expensive… you can get them at Radio Shack! And hell, there’s even a Radio Shack in the mall so I’m sure they could get a discount!

Boggled, I tracked down a security guard and asked him about the microphones. He was a very nice guy, but it was clear he didn’t want to tell me too much… as if he didn’t want to divulge the secrets of the mall. But it’s the Cavendish mall… what are you trying to protect? the Coles or the Laura Secord?? And honestly, what could you possibly record in there? Especially right above the food court… are they going to listen in on an old man who’s unhappy with his McDonalds? Or maybe they just want to hear what Irene has to say to Mort, or what Gladice has to say to Bernie. I hate the Cavendish mall, it was time to go home.

By this time I had taken my car, I wasn’t going to make Adam drive me back when he was a block away from his house (poor bastard). On the way back I noticed that they repaved Cavendish. The street that is. They made it all black and shiny. Black and shiny… that’s gonna be real interesting come winter, especially considering how the people drive there in optimal conditions. This brings me to my last point, a little off topic. You know those cars with DVD players to shut your stupid kids up while you’re driving? I always thought those were a good idea, until tonight when I almost killed a few people, myself included, because I was paying too much attention to the movie playing in the car in front of me… Wow what a bad idea that really is.

I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I almost got into an accident tonight or the fact that even now, I’m still wondering how that movie ended.

Concordia, part 2 of a potentially never-ending series

2004-11-01T18:39:00.000-05:00

I hate Concordia. Big shock, right? Fact of the matter is, EVERYONE hates Concordia. If someone ever says something nice about Concordia, it's because they go to McGill. One of my teachers (the one from my personal training course at McGill) told me that Concordia's advantage is that they hire people to teach, as opposed to McGill who hire people as researchers with teaching obligations in their contracts. People teaching at Concordia do so because they actually want to teach, not because it's in their contract. While this may be true, it by no means implies that there is an advantage to Concordia. You see, while Concordia teachers want to teach, the fact of the matter is that they CAN'T teach. Concordia doesn't actually hire teachers, they hire professionals from the given field. This brilliant idea just does not work in practice. Prove it to yourself by taking a class taught by an accountant.

Every Monday night I have a Managerial Accoutning class from 5:45 to 8:15. I have yet to stay through an entire class or stay awake for longer than 20 minutes at a time. Tonight was a new record for me, I walked out of class after 3 minutes and 22 seconds. The only reason why I stayed so long was because the teacher was about a minute late. I had my books open and everything, in the front row (a trick to keep myself awake that doesn't really work), yet after getting back my midterm I uttered a "fuck this" considerably louder than I should have, packed up my shit and left. I got a 47. Now I'm always the first to admit that I'm not exactly a model student in class and I'm even worse outside of class yet I've always managed quite well considering that the cummulative GPA from my last 5 classes is a 3.92. Being in class, awake or not, is usually enough for me. A 47 however, a mark that I have not seen since my engineering days, is a clear indication that my usual habits won't work for this class and it's time to find a new course of action. So I officially have Monday nights off :)

Now the class average for this midterm was an estimated 40%. I say estimated because the teacher is either too lazy or too ashamed to calculate the actual class average and just gives her students an estimation to shrug them off when they ask. Most of you are now saying "Oh, that's no problem, they're just going to Bell curve the marks". Those of you out there who are math geeks may even be saying that if a normal class average is something like a 65, then my mark would translate to a 76, which is nothing to be ashamed of. Problem is, before someone could even finish uttering the "B" word, my teacher barked out the following; "The marks will not be curved, if most of the class fails then most of the class fails". Which actually sounded more like "De marks will not be curve, if most of de class fail den most of de class fail" thanks to her thick french accent, the kind that's a result of at least 150 years worth of french inbreeding.

So where does this leave me? I really don't care. I came to the conclusion quite some time ago that a University degree is just not what I need in my life, and I have plenty of other plans for success, along with several back up plans. If I'm wrong, then I'm worng, shit happens and I'll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I'm just happy to have my Monday nights off.

There's always room for Jello! Well... almost always...

2004-10-30T19:36:00.000-04:00

It looks like I've got some free time before going out tonight, so I'll be using it to rant. Problem is, I've been home working all day so I've got nothing to rant about... or at least I didn't until about 15 minutes ago. Upon entering the kitchen for dinner, I noticed a box of pistachio Jello mix and a can of crushed pineapple sitting on the counter. This can only mean one thing, my mother is planning on making her pistachio mousse. I love that stuff, but I don't think I'll be having any this time around. You see, when inspecting the Jello box, I noticed there was a hockey card on the back... of Alexander Daigle. For those of you who don't know, he was a really crappy hockey player who only got "hockey card hype" back in his rookie year... in the mid ninties. I turned the box to the side and noticed the "copyright 1995" confirming my theory of the Jello's age. That's right, my mother wants us to eat NINE YEAR OLD JELLO. I know Jello doesn't have an expiry date, but if anyone doesn't think I'm justified in my refusal to eat this shit is more than welcome to come over and have my portion.

This isn't the first such incident in my house. You see, my mother refuses to throw anything away. I've had to pick up some survival tricks over the years to avoid food poisoning. For example, if eggs are on the menu for dinner, that means that the expiry date was 3 months ago and my mother needs more room in the fridge... so don't eat the eggs. Also, my mother has tried to trick me on several occasions by putting expired eggs in a new carton. Thankfully expiry dates are marked on each egg so I know which ones to avoid. Now don't make the mistake of thinking that this only applies to food, as I said before, my mother refuses to throw ANYTHING away. Come to my house and I'll prove it. We have so many carpets that we have to place them in layers, ON TOP of our wall to wall carpeting. Not only that, but there are 3 desks in the basement, that's right 3!!! We have enough furniture for about 3 households but my mother screams when I utter the words garage sale. My house is full of crap. What makes it worse is that it's old crap. Hell the tv in my basement (one of 6 in my house I might add) is an Admiral "Solid State" model. When was the last time you heard the term "solid state" in association with a tv?

But wait! There's more! Not only does my mother horde expired food and old furniture, she even keeps the "little things" that make up life. How many people can boast that there's an original Polaroid camera in their house? The piece of shit doesn't work, and it has no value as a collector's item (I checked) so why is my mother keeping it? Same reason she's keeping a stack of newspapers dating back from 1999. Oh, no, wait, there's a valid reason for that, she won't throw away a newspaper until she's gone through it front to back to save any articles that have anything to do with the jews. Of course the only reason why the stack is so big is because my mother has been too busy organizing her Hydro Quebec bills from 1993, kept just in case she ever needs them. Come on!!! The only reason you'd need a Hydro Quebec bill from 1993 is if you own a time machine! Mind you, I wouldn't be too shocked if I found one in this shit heap my mother calls a home.

I've spent a lot of time wishing death upon my mother for all this and much much more. Only now however, do i realize the error of my ways. For you see, if my mother dies, all this crap comes to me. I think at this point, to save myself quite a headache, I should just wish my mother eternal life and move far, far away where she can't find me.

Mexico anyone?

Where to begin...

2004-10-29T01:56:00.000-04:00

Today was a pretty random day and it's gonna translate into a pretty long rant. So if you're not in the mood for it, leave, and don't come back. My day started at 6:30 am when I was woken up by the shaking of my walls. I assumed it was an earthquake, hoped for the best (i.e. that the ground would swallow all the stupid people) and tried to go back to sleep. The shaking was too irregular to be an earthquake however and I couldn't get back to sleep so I had to investigate. It was construction. I hate construaction. It's been going on a block away from my house for the good part of a year. This time however, it was 20 feet away from my head, as there's a house being built right behind mine and it was time to dig. Now this house is almost finished, and they did it without a peep, so it's a bit of a wonder that they're digging now. Also, I'd like to give a pat on the back (along with a choke hold) to the genius who decided that the best time to dig is at 6:30 in the morning when it's -1 outside and the ground is FROZEN!!! That kind of intelligence could explain why they're digging now, they probably forgot that the house needs a basement. And I know it's not for a pool, my area is NOT rich enough for pools. If it is for a pool, I swear I'll get up every morning at the crack of dawn to piss in it.

Now despite waking up so early, I still managed to be late for work. I don't know how but I'd be lying if I said I really cared. The theme of the day at work was revenge. You see, earlier in the week, my friend Adam (who I also work with) brought in our high school year book and showed some pictures of me to two girls we work with. Anyone who knows what I looked like during my high school days knows this is a big nono. To get him back, I brought in a baby picture of his, a really goofy looking recent picture of his, and a picture of him in grade 6 (email me for the pic, man it's a good one!). To top it off, for the sheer hell of it, I cropped his head from the goofy recent pic and pasted it onto Hulk Hogan's body. Man it was perfect. Oh, and one more thing, I also brought Adam a piture of my mother, there's a long history behind that so I'll explain it another time assuming I remember to.

Then it was lunch time. Now every Thursday is "lunch with Louis day" or sometimes "lunch with Louis and Eve day". Those are always fun. Here's an example of what comes out of those:
Eve: "My head is killing me, my hormone cycles are giving me migraines"
Louis: "We're lucky men don't have hormone cycles"
Eve: "Actually you do, but your hormone cycles are daily"
Me: "Ya, it's called gas"

After lunch I really got no work done, it's a miracle these people are still paying me... I was excited however as I was getting a new desk. It's renovation time in my offie so the old furniture is up for grabs and I managed to get my hands on a beat up old table that I'll be using for some guitar work. Now here's where the fun begins. My friend Josh brought over his truk to help me move the desk. Problem was, the desk was about 1/4 of an inch too big to fit in the covered flatbed. We tried everything, going in on an angle, brut force, hell Josh even bench pressed the steel frame of the truck. Then we figured, since I don't really care about the condition of the table, we might as well dent the corner to slide it into the flatbed. Stomping it didn't work, so we decided it was time for a pile driver. That's right, there we were, two grown men, lifting a table up vertically then slamming it to the ground. I know it sounds a little sad but holy hell that was the most fun I've had all week! In fact when we finally got it to my house, we had to do it again for good measure... good times. The real world would be so much more fun if it were more like professional wrestling. I don't know about you but I'd sleep a lot better at night if I could end my arguments with a steel chair shot to the head.

Then it was a pizza dinner and time to give a guitar lesson, but I'm way too tired to keep telling stories of my day.

On a somewhat serious note, it seems like I won't be getting my birthday paintball wish as not enough people have the money, time, or balls to get shot at. I'll admit, the plans were very short notice but I just got the idea so I had very realistic expectations and I'm not too dissapointed since I've got at least 19 more years to shoot people. So it's back to my original plans of sleeping or anything that should pop up. Hope nobody thinks of this as antisocial, I just refuse to put effort into anything that won't lead to carnage. I'd make a good republican... or super villain... I fail to see the difference.

My birthday

2004-10-26T21:29:00.000-04:00

All ranting aside, let's talk about something important for a change, ME. For those of you who don't know, it's my birthday next week. Since I can't drink, my original plans for this year were to sleep. That's right, sleep, it's my birthday, I deserve it. But sleep is boring, and if I have barely slept for 2 months, what's one more day? So screw the drinking, screw the sushi that everyone seems to love, I want to do something fun, and I thought of something that I've always wanted to try. Paintball. I know, it's a little expensive (something like 40-45$, cheaper if it's a group of 15 or more) but come on, how can it not be fun? This is the only invitation I'll be sending out since I'm lazy, so if you feel that certain people need to know please go ahead and inform them. I don't really care who wants to come, it's all the same when I'm firing a paintball at your head and you'll certainly be my friend afterwards assuming you survive.

I'm thinking Arnold Paintball, indoor field in Lasalle. I'd like to go on Nov 6 or 7, so if anyone is interested, you really have to let me know ASAP since I'd have to make a reservation. I want to go fairly early in the day to go have dinner afterwards. You're free to go after the gunplay but anyone who wants to stick around for dinner is more than welcome to, as long as they're willing to hear "war stories" from the day's events.

I know this is a bit of a longshot and I know money is tight for many people (that and I know you're all afraid of me having a gun in my hands) so if it's not for you, I understand. If I can't get enough people interested, then maybe Laser Quest could be a consolation prize. That or sleep.

So sorry about the short notice, but if anyone is interested, please let me know by Friday the latest.

Concordia

2004-10-24T23:31:00.000-04:00

So my exams are finally over, hopefully I can get back into some regular ranting. I know what you're thinking, my exams ended pretty quick... well that's what happens when you only take 2 classes. I'd take more but then I'll end up graduating with more credits than necessary... why? because Concordia screwed me good. A few times. Like the 3 times I had to prove I'm a resident of Quebec... damn I hate those bastards. Since I'm a kind person who likes to share, let me share with you the story of my first day at that festering pit known as Con U. To make it a little more interesting, let's do this floor by floor, as if we're all in my head (just don't listen to the voices that aren't mine).

1st floor: Nice! First day at Concordia! Man I'm excited! (If I only knew what I was in for...) Ok, let's see, my class is on the 8th floor... away I go. Damn, the escalators don't work. Still, first day, can't wait.

2nd floor: Hey the escalators work! Things are looking up!

4rth floor: Wait a minute... why is there no 3rd floor? That's a little fucked up... Oh well, this is still gonna be cool.

5th floor: Hey look at that the escalators aren't working. They must be working out a few bugs or something..

6th floor: SHUT UP CARL!!!! Oh... sorry... where was I... right, 6th floor: Still no escalators? Damn this is starting to get annoying.

7th floor: What's that smell? Bah who cares, at least the escalators work.

Between the 7th and 8th floors: Here we go, time to go to class...

8th floor: Um... why is it all boarded up? I don't understand... is there some secret passageway I'm not aware of? Oh wait there's a sign. "Access to the 8th floor through the 7th or the 9th floor". Well, seing as how the way to get back down to the 7th floor is boarded up, let's try the 9th.

9th floor: Ok, now where are the signs guiding me to my class? Oh... there are none. (Round trip of the 9th floor later) Here it is! right down this staircase, here we go!

8th floor (finally): Hey look at that... nothing but a big maze of plywood... and this is where I'm supposed to have an electric circuits lab... ya... I feel real safe. OW! WHAT WAS THAT? Oh, a hangnail... Good to know this gigantic fire hazard is at least well built. And here's my class. Looks like the teacher isn't here yet, I'll just wait with everyone else.

HALF AN HOUR LATER

8th floor: I guess the teacher isn't coming. Ok, I might as well go home.

Floors 7 through 1: I hate this place, with a side of "why don't these stupid escalators work?" on floors 7, 6, 4, and 2.

I found out the next day that there are no labs on the first week of school. Of course Concordia doesn't put this information in anything the new students would know to check. This was to be the first of many difficult days at Concordia, but those stories will be saved for another time, since they'll just make me depressed now.

I'd go to Mcgill... but... um... NO.

Stupidity, part 2

2004-10-21T22:22:00.000-04:00

DAMMIT PEOPLE ARE STUPID!!!!!! I take it back, stupidity is not just a universal language, it's a way of life, and as I recently foud out, a family tradition. Take for example a guy who works in my office. Notice how I say"a guy who works in my office" and not "a guy I work with". If I actually had to work with him on a daily basis, I'd shoot myself. Now I went to school with this guy's son, and dammit is the kid dumb! Until recently, I assumed it was simply because his parents waited a full five minutes before telling their kid he was drinking bleach... But no, he must have gotten it from his dad because the man has the same intelligence as the gum on the bottom of my shoe. Every time I pass the moron in the hall he either complains like a jew (Please note, I'm jewish. If I see the word racist in a comment I'll track you down and beat seven shades of shit out of you) or he has a really stupid story for me. Today I got to watch his eyes swell up with pride as he told me the story of how his moron son almost barbecued the house while attempting to see if his toy dragon would breathe fire... What a dumbass. And I'm talking about the both of them.

The only reason why I didn't think stupidity could be passed on from generation to generation is because I consider myself fairly smart, yet my mother is about as sharp as a tennis ball. For those of you who want proof, I present to you the tried and tested "handbrake story".

Now my driveway is inclined. My mother's car is an automatic so who cares right? WRONG. One morning I get screamed at for not putting on the handbrake the previous night. Fine... no problem... I'll just put it on the next time. Next time rolls around and I do put on the handbrake. I wake up the next morning and it's off to school, smile on my face, thinking all is well with the world because I put the handbrake on. Damn what an idealistic fool I was.

When I got home I was greeted at the door by my mother, whose face had turned a shade of red I had never seen before, complete with the volcano effect coming from the ears and top of head like in the cartoons. Here's what happened. In the morning, my mother couldn't take the handbrake off because apparently I had put it on too hard. So she took a taxi to work, called my brother in law, and made him leave his work and come to my house (by metro I might add) to take off the handbrake. Upon completing his first mission, she made him bring her the car. She then left her work to drive him to the metro in order to get back to his work, then went back to her work. What caused all this? Simple, my mother doesn't know how to use a handbrake. She's used to pushing the button and down it goes, but that's because she doesn't put it on past the third click, effectively doing nothing (I can't tell you how many times I've driven with the handbrake light flashing). She doesn't realize that when a normal person puts on the hndbrake, you remove it by PULLING UP FIRST, then pushing the button. I tried to explain this to her, but the response I got was about 7 hours worth of screaming about how I'm breaking the car (I also brake the car when I go past 40 or put too many kilometers on it) and how I put the handbrake on so hard because "I think I'm cool". Now if that's not stupid, I defy you to tell me what is.

I'd push my mother down the stairs but I'm afraid that if it doesn't kill her, she'll scream at me that I'm destroying the car because of what I did.

I've got worms

2004-10-17T22:00:00.000-04:00

So I haven't posted in a few days, I'm sure that's left a lot of you feeling empty inside. Well live with it. If you need something to fill the void in your life, or at least plug up a hole, take a suppository.

Reason I haven't posted is because I've got tons of work to do, no sleep in me, and in the past 3 days I've spent 18 hours in the gym. No, I haven't actually been working out all this time, 14 of those hours were for a training seminar for my personal trainer's course at the McGill gym. (First one to make a Gill at McGill joke will be hunted down and fed to Oprah) Which brings me to my next point, I hate skinny people. You'd think in a gym you'd find some big muscular guys or some fat people trying to get into shape, but at this gym there are nothing but skinny people.

Anyone who thinks the picture of health and beauty is being invisible when sideways deserves to be run over by a steam roller. Oh... wait... that wouldn't do much... let me rethink that. Anyway, sad thing is, it's not just the girls, the guys are the same way. I don't know why McGill wasted money on weights over 5 pounds, it's not like anyone in that gym can lift them. It's pathetic. I almost bumped into someone but managed to dodge them at the last second for fear of breaking their hip from the mild contact. Have no fear however, the weather is getting worse and winds are picking up so sooner or later these ass-clowns will be blown away to Ontario where they belong.

Hate to dissapoint everyone even more, but I may not be posting for the next few days. I've got a midterm on Tuesday, lots of shipping to do for my business, followed by another midterm on Saturday moring. I'm sure I'll find some time to rant before that last exam though. I just wish I were prepared for these exams. Every time I try to study I just end up playig Worms. For those of you who have never played Worms, it's basially war with cats. Cats? are you sure Gill? NO, it's worms you morons. Anyone who believed me when I said cats deserves that suppository I was talking about earlier. Damn I love that game, something about a worm holding up an exploding sheep that just brings a tear of joy to my eye.

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

The tie that binds...

2004-10-15T01:43:00.000-04:00

Contrary to what the nay sayers may say nay to, human beings share a universal language. The threading to our soial fabric if you will. Now this language is not English, or anything gay like body language, it's Stupidity. Yes, Stupidity. I estimate that 90% of the world's population speak Stupid, and at least 75% speak it fluently. The reason why I sometimes have trouble fitting in is because I don't speak Stupid. I understand it quite well, yet still have trouble expressing myself.

Take for example the other day. While driving in a 50 zone, I get stuck behind a woman doing 30. Now in Quebec, the speed limit doesn't mean "you can't go faster than this", it means "you can't go slower than this". Clearly the woman in front of me is not aware of such a law, so I try to relay the message in a polite way.

I flash my brights... nothing. (First sign of Stupidity)

I honk my horn... nothing. (Confirmation of Stupidity)

I honk my horn several times in succession... this time I get a raised hand, same motion you'd make while saying "duh, I dunno". (Indication of a possible Stupidity overlord)

Clearly, I was unable to get my message across, so I passed the stupid bitch first chance I got.

Now what I really like about Stupidity, is that it's not just a universal language, it's a word that means many things at the same time. Say someone is acting like a retard, a dumbass, and a paranoid maniac at the same time, this person could be summed up quite nicely as stupid. Proof? ask and ye shall receive.

A few months ago I'm enjoying a nice family dinner. Nnot that my family dinners are nice, seeing as how my sister and I hate each other (you'll find out one of the reasons why soon enough). Halfway through, a fruit fly decides to pop in through the screen door and take a rest on the ceiling. Upon seeing it, my sister flees the table in terror sreaming "a bee, a bee, it's gonna get me". After some convincing, she comes back to the table, only to have the fruit fly come take a closer look at our dinner. Of course she runs out again (this time however we convinced her it wasn't a bee so she was screaming "a wasp, a wasp..."). Finally she returns wearing a hoodie, hood over her head and sleeves over her hands for protection. Keep in mind, this is in the middle of the summer. The fly's continuing curiosity proved to be the straw that broke the camel's back, as my sister ran away in terror once again. This time however, she forced my brother in law to stop eating his dinner and kill the fly so that she could come back. About 10 minutes later he managed to do so, with the aid of my mother's slipper. Of course by then I had finished my meal and had retired to the basement. Only so long you can laugh about something before you start to cry... I swear if my sister's age would be the same as her IQ she'd still be in liquid form.

Speaking of liquid form, I need to pee again.

Urination

2004-10-14T01:17:00.000-04:00

I pee a lot. I don't know why... I just do. Maybe I have an overactive bladder, maybe I have diabetes, but if so much as a drop of water enters my system I'll be flushing out the Hoover dam for the rest of the day. You can imagine I've had to hold it in during the worst situations. Tests, concerts, hockey games, weddings, funerals, dates ...etc. Today was a new one for me, holding it in while driving in downtown Montreal.

Now for those of you who don't know, driving in downtown Montreal is like playing a big ass game of dodgeball. You have to look out for other cars, doors, bikers, shopping carts, the occasional flying emu, and oh yes, people. (Unless they're french people, then the game turns into target practice) Today happened to be particularly bad as the two people in front of me decided to have a competition. Never is it a more depressing sight than when an Acura and a Lexus decide to see who can drive slower. I hate old people. Needless to say they heard me in St-Laurent when I finally got to hold my liquidation sale.

Speaking of old people, the ride back home was no fun either. I either have to avoid driving in Cote St Luc or stop driving altogether because if I encounter too many more old people on the road a very bad accident will happen. Either I'll accidently ram them thinking (and reasonably so) that their lane change might actually take LESS than 17 minutes, or the reflection of their bald/balding heads will make me slam into one of those stupid jewish signs. And I'm not just talking about the men. On the bright side, if the accident is bad enough, at least it'll solve my peeing problem.

On that note, I need to pee.

Music that should have never made it to mp3

2004-10-13T01:50:00.000-04:00

Anyone remeber Scatman John? Didn't think so. He released this craptacular song back in... oh like it matters. Anyway, shameful as it is, once a year I get this uncontrolable urge to hear this song... and that once a year happened to be just now. So I went to Kazaa and got the mp3. 32 seconds into the song I realized what I had done, deleted the mp3 as well as any record of it being on my hard drive then jumped into the shower. I swear I was close to reformatting too.

Point is, some music should have never survived the digital revolution. The world would be a much better place if a lot of these songs were banned from mp3 format. With evolving technology that will leave tapes and cds obsolete, we could even hide all evidence of their existence, bringing us one step closer to eutopia.

So let me just me just put in my vote for a few bands/artists that we should strike from the history books.

1- Scatman John - A creepy old guy with a moustache inviting you to "Scatman's world". Do the math. So my yearly urge will go unsatisfied... big deal, a lot of my daily urges go unsatisfied, like the urge to kill my mother.

2- New Kids On The Block - Ok, so I liked them too when I was a kid, but that was before I knew the meaning of the word PRODUCT. Bessides just look at what followed in their footsteps.

3- Vanilla Ice - Enough said.

4_ Millie Vanillie - If you're going to hire other people to sing for you, at least make sure they can carry a tune.

5- Jesus Jones - He sucked in the 80's and 90's, what makes anyone think he's good now. Fine, so "Right Here Right Now" wasn't bad... until after the 473rd time I heard it. Isn't it nice knowing the highlight of your career is 30 seconds of your song used in various comercials?

6- L L Cool J - There was just no excuse for that. What frightens me is that he might have been making music after the mp3 revolution and might still be making music now. RUN, HIDE, PROTECT THE CHILDREN!!

That's all I can really think of now, but it doesn't mean there aren't more bands/artists who produced songs that could be considered crimes against humanity. Like Men Without Hats... eww.

I'm gonna have nightmares tonight.

People

2004-10-12T16:41:00.000-04:00

I skipped work today. While I actually don't feel good, I could have made it in, I just wasn't in the mood to deal with my job or the people there. I'm a file clerk (roughly translated into office bitch) so you can imagine that I'm not overly enthusiastic when walking into the place. Lately though the poeple have been getting on my nerves... and it's not just because I'm easily irritated.

Take for example Johanne. I didn't like this woman from the start, as she wasn't overly friendly when I started working there. What really pisses me off though is that she likes to snap her fingers every time she's walking. Her snapping is in sync with her steps and it's rather enfuriating. Further assuring herself a place in my good books, she likes to yell at her children over the phone while in the room with everyone else. After her bout of bellowing, she will stop the closest victim she finds and proceeds to discuss the difficulties of parenting, wether the victim is a parent or not. What really pushes my limits is what happened last week. I was filing the "b's", effectively blocking off the kitchen/photocopy room. Johanne of course needed to make a photocopy, and while there was ample room to squeeze through, this woman is considerably more than ample. Like a steam train, she proceeds to plow through me, throwing me into the filing cabinet, effectively closing the drawer, arm on my shoulder, as if I were being arrested, all while letting out a joyful "s'cuse!".

I hate people...