Archive for February, 2015

Listen, I’ve never claimed to have a perfect past. I’ve openly told my students 1and players over the past 30-years that I was once an idiot who flunked out of college, did some bad things, treated people poorly, and hopefully came out on the other side a better man. Well, the story I’m about to tell you happened during that period of my life, a time my own father has often referred to as my “hazy period.” So let’s just say that although I’m not necessarily proud of some of the things I did, it doesn’t mean I didn’t get some damn good stories out of those days.

Hopefully, this is one of them . . .

Back in the late 70’s there was an all-night restaurant in Chilly that folks would frequent after they left the local watering holes. It was on Bridge Street where Frisch’s now stands, and I’m sure many of my readers are nodding their heads knowingly, because they know exactly where I’m talking about.

Why am I being so secretive? It was Sambo’s, a politically incorrect establishment if there ever was one. But man, their waffles were tasty.

Anyway, myself and two of my buddies ended up there late one night (OK, it was technically early morning) to enjoy a tasty breakfast/late supper, depending on your perspective and/or lifestyle. As I alluded to before, we were idiots, and we had occasionally done the “dine and dash” maneuver before. Being low on cash, we thought we’d do it again.

Note: For all you God-fearing, honest people out there, “Dine and Dash” refers to going into a restaurant, eating, and fleeing without paying for your meal. It can also be referred to as “stealing” or “breaking the law.”

And so, a plan was hatched. My friend JR and I would quietly exit the restaurant one-by-one, JR first followed by yours truly. We’d hop in JR’s car, get it fired up and ready to roll, then wait for my other friend Tom to bolt out, hop in, and join us in our escape.

W-e-l-l, at some point our communication must have been flawed. For as soon as I joined JR in his car, we pulled around to the entrance of the place, theoretically to enhance Tom’s access to our vehicle and hasten our getaway. However, apparently Tom didn’t get the memo. As JR and I sat there awaiting the big guy, he suddenly came running out of the restaurant, right past us and on to the place where we’d been parked before.

In a perfect world Tom would have realized his mistake and circled back around to us. But as they say, karma can be a bitch. So as JR and I watched in horror, Tom jumped into the backseat of the wrong car.

A car near where ours had previously been parked. A car occupied by an elderly married couple, out for an early breakfast.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

As Tom later recounted, he jerked open the backdoor of the car, hopped in, and screamed, “LET’S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!”

And only then did he notice the geriatric couple sitting in the front seat, faces turned towards him, frozen in terror.

Sorta like JR’s and mine, watching from the car by the entrance to the restaurant.

Tom, obviously realizing he’d made a god-awful mistake, leaped out of the wrong car and, after doing an amazingly graceful panicked pirouette for a 6’3″, 250 pound man, spotted us and ran to our car. Only then did we, miraculously and somewhat undeservedly, make our escape.

We’ll never know what happened to that innocent, elderly couple who had their brush with a wild-eyed man-beast that night, nor do we want to. My guess is they were scarred for life and never went out for an early morning breakfast again, but I’ll never know for sure.

As for us, I believe it was our last “dine and dash” ever attempted. Maybe we felt guilty, maybe it scared us, perhaps we finally matured a little.

Who am I kidding? It was none of those things.

It was because we nearly caused an elderly couple to have double coronary, and nobody wants that on their conscience.

Not even us.

Also stoners.

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Idiots.

You hear your mom calling you into the kitchen. As you are heading down the stairs you hear a whisper from the closet saying “Don’t go down there honey, I heard it too.”

Yowza. Here’s your bonus pic:

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Cool rabbit though.

Kind of hard to read but you can make it out if you sort of squint your eyes, tap your left foot and hum “Come on Eileen” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners.

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That right there is a Panda Ant. See, it sort of looks like a Panda. Get it? Here’s the thing though – Panda Ants are actually wasps, which confuses me and gives me a headache. The females have no wings, as you can clearly see. In some parts they’re known as “Cow Killers” because a sting from one of these ladies can bring one down. A cow, that is. Jeebus. Little dude packs quite a wallop. Anywho, Panda Ant!

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Just a beautiful song.

I fell out of her eyes
And I fell out of her heart
I fell down on my face
Yes I did
And I tripped and I missed my star
Then I fell and fell alone
And the moon’s a harsh mistress
And the sky’s made of stone.

Seriously, Llamas on the loose.

Seriously, what are the odds Madonna has this dancer executed for pulling her off the stage like that? Then again, wearing a giant cape like that is asking for trouble, amirite? Nah, someone’s gonna die for that. No doubt about it.

After working a hard day I came home to see my girlfriend cradling our child. I didn’t know which was more frightening, seeing my dead girlfriend and stillborn child, or knowing that someone broke into my apartment to place them there.

Well, that was just awful. Here’s a scary pic, also awful:

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The Lowland Streaked Tenrec lives in the rainforests of Madagascar, and he looks like the type of guy you wouldn’t want to step on. He has quills like a porcupine, except he’s way cuter. Seriously, look at that little snout. Adorable. He eats earthworms and bugs and resides with his family in a little burrow. If he’s attacked he lowers his head and charges like a boss head-first into the nose or paws of his enemy. The Lowland Streaked Tenrec is badass.

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I see you, Minnesota and Wisconsin.

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I didn't know about the cancer thing. Promise.

I didn’t know about the cancer thing. Promise.

So I read this on Reddit and thought it was worth a mention. Read on, with my comments to follow . .

So I’m a bit of a chilli head. Love my hot sauces. I also love to cook. I also cook my wife a delicious lunch each day, She kept complaining that someone was stealing her lunch every couple of days out of the fridge at work. So I made her some buffalo wings for lunch to put in the fridge, They are really popular with her colleagues But I spiced them up just a little with some Blair’s 4am Reserve, which is the hottest legal sauce known to man. (I note you are meant to dilute it with 1 drop per 5 litres of liquid). So I added a couple of drops of Blairs 4am Reserve per wing with nice dusting of Ghost chilli powder for good measure. I did eat a couple to make sure it didn’t kill anybody, they were real hot. Even cream doesn’t cut the heat: and Ghost chillies keep getting hotter for about 5 minutes. Needless to say just before lunch, there was a shrill from the kitchen, a young male colleague decided to help himself the my wife’s lunch which was clearly marked with her name. He ran to the toilet and vomited over and over. Apparently the moans sounded like he was dying. My wife just sat there innocently pretending nothing was wrong. Needless to say she has not lost a single lunch since.

Listen, I love this move. You know why? Because there is nothing worse than a lunch thief. Nothing. When I was in high school a guy was stealing my lunch so I got some formaldehyde from the chemistry room, poured it on my ham sandwich, put it in my lunch sack, and waited for the hilarity to ensue. Boom. Roasted. Trust me, the guy never stole my lunch again. Oh, there may or may not have been a trip to the hospital involved as well, but that’s neither here nor there. The bigger point is everyone’s lunch was safe because of yours truly. You’re welcome, fellow students. You’re welcome.

Note: The statute of limitations has passed, right? Right?

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A schoolboy from rural Victoria returned home yesterday to find a furry carjacker behind the wheel of the family Land Rover.

Sam Box, 15, told 9news.com.au he had just gotten off the bus after school when he found the koala “trying to drive our car away”.

He quickly snapped photos showing the koala sitting in the driver’s seat with its paws on the steering wheel.

“After a while he just hopped out and walked away,” Box said.

Yeah, I bet. Walked away in disgust.

Seriously, so this is what the world has come down to? I never thought I’d see the day when a koala couldn’t get in a car and take a scenic drive across the Australian countryside. All this little guy wanted was take a drive, go see his girlfriend in the outback, maybe have a little koala afternoon delight. But n-o-o-o, Sam Box had to go and spoil the party.

Shame on you, Sam Box. Leave that koala alone.

You get home, tired after a long day’s work and ready for a relaxing night alone. You reach for the light switch, but another hand is already there.

Bonus pic:

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Yeti! YETI! Wait. Cotton Candy! COTTON CANDY! No? Angora Rabbit? Yes, Angora Rabbit. I swear that in no way resembles a rabbit, but I guess he’s in there somewhere. On a related note, I highly recommend some conditioner next time this guy washes his hair. Just a suggestion.

AngoraRabbit

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Fascinating. Well, at least to me.

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The Los Angeles Lakers are awful. Kobe Bryant is hurt and can’t play. His teammates, meanwhile, celebrated a win over the almost as awful Boston Celtics as if they’d won the NBA title. Here’s Kobe’s reaction after being shown the post-game footage of his teammate’s antics on Jimmy Kimmel. God, how I love Kobe Bryant. Keep fighting the good fight, my friend. There are far too few of you left.

Listen, I don’t have a lot of life rules, other than “do unto others . . .” and stuff like that. However, one of my hard and fast rules is “Don’t stand on the track during a horse race.” Just bad policy all around. However, if you ever find yourself out there you just have to keep your head on a swivel. Otherwise you could get steamrolled like the guy below.

PS – That guy has to be dead, right? I always wonder how family members deal with the aftermath of something like this:

“So I heard your dad died. What happened?”

“He was murdered by Cherry Pop, a chestnut gelding from Kentucky. It was a hoof and run.”

That’s gotta be awkward, man.

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Dispatch – Ohio State football coach Urban Meyer is circling in the Gulf of Mexico. The ship, with a reported 2,500 on board and due in port yesterday, has been in a holding pattern about 20 miles off the coast for a day now waiting for the dense fog to lift. That’s not expected until at least 7 p.m. today according to the latest weather advisory.

Wow. Urban Meyer is in a holding pattern in the Gulf of Mexico. What are the odds Urban has ripped the ship’s captain a new a-hole by now?

“What do you mean we can’t find the damn port? Doesn’t this thing have radar? I have recruits to visit! GET ME HOME DAMN IT!”

I swear to God there has to be a captain doing laps around the Carnival Princess as we speak.

PS: Imagine pirates trying to take over this luxury liner during the Buckeye Cruise, which I assume is what we’re talking about here. Pirates get on board, only to come face-to-face with Meyer, Spielman and Bosa. Pirates being thrown overboard all over the place. Dead pirate city, man.

Nothing like electro-dance music to accompany watching the earth swallow a couple folks.

Enjoy . . .

My wife woke me up last night to tell me there was an intruder in our house. She was murdered by an intruder 2 years ago.

Bonus pic:

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This, my beloved readers, is the Sea Pig. He is not actually a pig, but he does live in the sea. He is also known as a Scotoplane, which makes no sense whatsoever but sounds cool as hell. Sea Pigs live w-a-y down in the ocean because they really don’t want to run into one of the beautiful sea creatures, like a dolphin or something. That would just be awkward. One of the Sea Pigs favorite activities is feasting on a whale corpse, which by looking at the Sea Pig should be in no way surprising. Anywho, Sea Pig.

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Look kids! It changes! Enjoy! On a related note, Jennifer had a nice run.

Hypocrisy indeed. Or maybe just stupidity.

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