Curses

I have been anxiously awaiting the arrival of a package in the mail. Today it finally arrived and to my dismay, the envelop was torn at the side and all contents were missing. I contacted Canada Post, and they informed me that it is the responsibility of the sender to take any action. And as this was an item purchases through eBay, this problem may never be remedied to my satisfaction.

To me it's still Monday

I'm up way too early for my liking. The reason - I ate yogurt and it has made me ill. How can yogurt give sometime indigestion? Or am I just falling apart due to age and infrequent use (yea, I'm lazy...)?
*Vanity blather *- I decided that after a year, I should get my hair cut. And the hairdresser really was a person. Extremely patient - even though I had brushed my hair for about a hair hour prior to leaving my apartment it took her close to 10 minutes just to comb through some conditioner. You know your hair is dead, tangly, gross and dry when. Unfortunately, the hairstyle I ultimately wanted would have involved a daily ritual of blow drying and styling (damn you curly*wavy hair) so she opted for another style. It's nice, but it's just not me. I've been layered. Although it's an entirely different colour now - and natural- which is interesting.

Exam progress: I have my first exam this coming Wednesday. And because I couldn't find my textbook until today, I would rather not predict the outcome. It's National Criticism though, how hard can that be? Our (insert country's name here) shit does stink. There you go.

"Life is no way to treat an animal."

And so it goes.
Yes, this is about the passing of one of the greatest authors, Kurt Vonnegut. The piece of writing that introduced me to Vonnegut was from his collection of short stories, Welcome to the Monkeyhouse and the story was "Harrison Bergeron". The first novel I read by him was Cat's Cradle and loved every page of it. And from then on, I was hooked. And he has undoubtedly been a huge influence on popular culture.
Interestingly enough, The Dandy Warhol's album Welcome to the Monkeyhouse is (in my opinion) one of their better works. And yes, it is named after Vonnegut's book.

Hooray for sandwiches

The title is actually a combination of two things that are jumping around in my head. Obviously, as pictured above, I am fulfilling my duty as advertising whore and doing a wee bit of product placement. But "Smoked Wheat" really is worth it. I happened upon it at the grocery store the other day and that was that. It has sauce, which I like. And it's another item I can use in my newly purchased microwave. Looking back on that past year and a half, I can't believe I did without. piss. I just realized that I'm devoting far too much time discussing food and food-related topics.

"Hooray for murder!"
Hopefully this will work properly. It's my first time that's me giving dues to recessbandit. What I was saying. Enjoy the video - it's from Robot Chicken.

Robot Chicken: Carebears

mmmmmm, that's good rainbow

beep beep

Listening to the news of a particular politician that will not be seeking re-election and instead will be going back to the family business has caused me to think. Currently this high-profile politician will be returning to a very lucrative position at an automobile manufacturing type of company just as rumours are cast that this large company may be looking to buy out a very large Name Brand car company. So, what does this have to do with me? Nothing, except it has me thinking about what some businesses do differently than others to succeed. How is it that this company became so large and lucrative? A company started by one man. And this one man whom actually rented out space within my grandfather's automobile parts company - helping him establish himself in the automobile industry. Truly I am curious to know if it is a combination of dedication, business savvy, sacrifice or what that had this man exceed beyond the limitations of those that gave him a start in the beginning. And, if I name drop, could I get a job?

M'Dream

Right then. I will attempt to recite my dream as best as I can recall. Mind, some details are sketchy, possibly I wasn't paying attention at the time? Anywhore. My dream had a sort of hospital "ER" vibe about it. I think it started with this guy dying and there was speculation that within a few days they'd be able to reattach his brain (American Dad?). So my dream is centered around this one particular doctor who bears a striking similarity to Mark Greene from ER (what can I say, Revenge of the Nerds is a classic) and trying to hide this particular corpse so he can later attempt his reanimation experiment. This I'm thinking stems from my underlying fear that one day the dead will be reanimated and zombies will be the latest 'terrorist' attack. Actually, it's not a very exciting dream come to think of it. Trying to stuff the body in the staff's lunch room freezer, and dressing the body up like Mark Greene and placing him under covers in his cot. A sudden medical emergency calls all doctors away, but for some reason Greene just has one more thing to secure things so that Corpse isn't taken away. Actually, this seemed far more riveting in my head. My apologies. Let's just say it ends with me actually doing some quick thinking (obviously a dream). When asked why he doesn't have his scrubs on (after dressing Corpse in them) I brilliantly answer by stating I threw up on him and proceed to throw up again. So I guess that's my contribution to the medical community - vomiting on demand.
good times.

An old and overused joke, but funny nonetheless

As I as waiting for the picture to load I realized just how immature I am. What gave it away was not that I gain amusement from this photo, but that when my dog just released a bubble toot, I laughed.

My "Experiment"

Really it isn't an experiment, merely an observation. But by calling it an experiment it helps for me to not appear quite as scatter-brained and forgetful. Anyway, I digress. It has been about five months that I have been driving with an invalid sticker on my license plate. Granted I do have the valid sticker in my possession, I just have yet to replace it. Now to me the astonishing thing is the difference of a town's police force. In previous years when I had difficulties with an uncooperative sticker that wouldn't stay in place, therefore making it necessary for me to keep sticker inside the car, I've always have had quite a different experience. In the past, whilst living in a different area of the province, I'd been pulled over by what is known as the York Pork. And this would occur perhaps one month (at the most) past the date of the expired sticker visible. Is it clear what I'm carrying on about? How remarkably different the patrolling strategies of towns can be. In one town, in which the authoritarian units have been nicknamed, it takes only a mere four weeks for a money producing infraction to be spotted. And yet in another town, this apparent violation has yet to incur any charges. Now with mentioning this, I really should go take care of my sticker, just in case I become superstitious and jinx myself.