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Spam Think Canadian

Spam Names

And so, another weekend has come and gone.

I was perusing my junk mail folder last night and picked out the following group of entertaining spam originator names.

Rather than just listing them, I’ve decided to create a little office scenario, and assign some personality to each fake name.

I think it’s a lot more entertaining this way…


Simmering G. Overseers – The perpetual angry boss. Mrs. Overseers is a micromanager’s micromanager. Always looking over the shoulder of her underlings, she stalks about the office, her face a slight reddish twinge, grinding her teeth and exuding steam from her brain.

Crumbliest G. Tabulating – This poor young soul is overworked and underpaid. Working as Mrs. Overseers’ accountant, he’s constantly falling apart from the pressure that is brought by her constant surveillance.

Cattails B. Unkempt – This bookish archivist works long hours for low pay. Her frizzy hair and messy attire are a step towards explaining the problems the office is having locating any documents from before the previous month. Why so unkempt? Too much time in the garden, taking care of “weeds”.

Compensations T. Pet – This payroll worker is the apple of everyone’s eye. She does her job well and looks great to boot. Nobody can place her exotic accent, nor can they figure out her heritage from her other-worldy, beautiful appearance. To the untrained eye it appears that she is under the sway of the higher management types. However, upon closer inspection, it is she who leads them all with a short leash.

Roomful E. Furthest – This portly gentleman has been cursed with a biological weight problem. As if this wasn’t bad enough, he also seems to emit a noxious odour that is repugnant to all but the toughest flies. Sitting low on the totem pole, one would think him assigned to a cubicle like everyone else. However, due to both of his unfortunate traits, he has been assigned to his own office on the opposite side of the building from everyone else.

Waxwing M. Supremacist – The president of our motley crew. His creepy demeanor, racist attitude and oily appearance spook a lot of the people, but none more than the women who work in the office. They are constantly avoiding his lecherous gaze and busy hands. The only one in the office not afraid of him is Miss Pet, who seems to cause him some distress. He thinks her an extremely attractive women, yet she is a “foreigner”. He tends to keep his distance from her.

Benito M. Feliciano – Salesman extraordinaire. This curly-haired adonis walks about in his expensive suits and highly-polished shoes. He is the paragon of confidence. His muscled body apparent beneath his threads. The women in the office swoon when he walks by. Ironically, he only has eyes for young Mr. Tabulating…

Trumpeting O. Sleet – She is the receptionist and switchboard operator all rolled into a sweaty package. She’s never been able to figure out why she gets the cold sweats all the time. It’s not that she’s nervous, nor is she afraid of anything (except Waxwing, who really gets under her skin). No. It’s just one of those mysteries she can’t figure out. The rest of the office is glad that she’s around. Due to her loud voice, they save on public address systems.

Jesus Mayo – The wildcard. He doesn’t actually work in the office, but rather at the deli down the street. A humble man, bearded, in casual clothes, he can make the most heavenly sandwiches in the city. People who eat his food tend to start seeing auras and feeling really groovy. As of yet, no one has ever caught the street urchins transporting large amounts of E into his pantry.


And there we have it. Our dysfunctional office scenario.

I actually quite enjoyed that. I might do that again if the names that appear in my junk mail folder are as interesting as these.



Something To Think About

I’ve been watching a few people lately who have made a career out of changing careers. While I admire their tenacity, I’ve discovered that they’ve painted themselves into a corner by earning themselves a nomadic reputation.

What ever happened to having an open mind about what you are doing right now?

Sometimes the best journeys are the ones inside that start with what you know.

Chasing your dreams can be good. Just make sure to look at the ground every once in a while, to make sure you avoid those nasty cliffs.



A Canadian Project

A thought has been working itself through my brain for the last week or so.

I’ve spoken to Ian and Dave about it. I’ve also dropped hints to Cat.

If anyone is curious about this endeavour, please e-mail me.

I’d post the idea here, but I only really want serious inquiries, and I really want to keep it quiet until it’s done.

Voodoo Television Power

Anyone Know a Good Voodoo Priest?

I usually take the bus in the morning to get to the subway station. The station is only a ten minute walk from my house, but when trying to get into work on time, every minute is precious.

Also, it is usually less of a sweat-inducing ordeal to just catch the bus and ride it down to the station, shaving five minutes and about a litre of sweat off the journey.

This morning I was about a block away from the bus stop.

I saw the people begin to line up, and I knew the bus was coming, so I broke into a sprint.

I made it just as he was closing the door. There was plenty of room on the bus, and he could have waited a few seconds to let me in.

Instead he decided to close the door and drive away.

The worst part of it all was that he was staring at me the whole time.

Prick.



If Television Were In My Power…

A long overdue Dave & Jorge exchange.

There is a television show called CSI (Crime Scene Investigation). The show is awesome. It always starts out with the initial crime scene. One of the CSIs will show up (usually Grissom) and have an exchange with Detective Brass. Inevitably, a bad pun makes itself known followed by the theme song.

For some reason, Dave and I were on a kick one day. We started writing new intros to the series, replacing Grissom with Dave.

I don’t even remember how this particular exchange started, but it ended up becoming damned funny. Well, damned funny to us, anyway.

If you are having trouble with the ending of each little segment, Dave and I were trying to type out the music to the CSI theme*


Intro 1
[Dave arrives on the scene. Detective Brass is standing over the body of a bloody corpse.]
Brass: Wow, what a way to go…
Dave: What happened?
Brass: Someone shot this priest in the head.
Dave: I guess we should get to work on his holiness..
Music: WAH-WAH-WON-WON…DUH! DUH-NUH!


Intro 2
[Dave meets Brass in a dark alley where the body of a hooker was found.]
Dave: What happened here?
Brass: We found this prostitute murdered. No one could hear her scream because her tongue was cut out.
Dave: [Looking sombre] That’s horrible. I guess it’s time to work the scene.
Brass: If only the dead could talk.
Dave: We’d find that the answer was on the tip of her tongue
Music: WAH-WAH-WON-WON…DUH! DUH-NUH!


Intro 3
[Brass is waiting for Dave in the kitchen of a home in a rich neighbourhood.]
Brass: You’re not going to believe this one.
Dave: What?
Brass: The wife took her husband’s face, forced it into the grinder over there, and served it to all the neighbours as meat pie. Now all the neighbours are dead–we found half of them on their toilets.
Dave: Dysentery?
Brass: Looks like.
Dave: Wow. The face that launched a thousand shits.
Music: WAH-WAH-WON-WON…DUH! DUH-NUH!


Intro 4
[Brass is carefully checking over the scene in a clinic.]
Dave: [Looking Tired] What happened here?
Brass: Well, this case involves a lady who went to a plastic surgeon for a breast enlargement.
Dave: So?
Brass: He said he could enlarge her breasts immensely. When she didn’t get the results she wanted, she stabbed him in the eye, and he died.
Dave: That’s what you get when you try to make mountains out of molehills…
Music: WAH-WAH-WON-WON…DUH! DUH-NUH!


We totally could be up for an Emmy.





* – “Who Are You?” by The Who

Transporter Thing

The Transporter

One thing I like to do is quote lines from movies once in a while. I usually change some element of what it is to be funny. This time, though, my wife actually changed it.

We had recently seen Transporter 2 in the theatre.

In the movie, there is a brief exchange between Jason Statham’s rigid, rules-based character (Frank) and a little boy played (quite well) by Hunter Clary…


Frank Martin: What’s the first rule when entering a man’s car?
Jack Billings: Respect a mans car, a man respects you.
Frank Martin: Rule number two?
Jack Billings: Greet the man. Good afternoon Frank!
Frank Martin: Good afternoon Jack.


A few days after we saw the movie, I was sitting in the car waiting for Mrs. J. After a minute or two, she opened the passenger side and joined me in the car. The following conversation ensued (with me doing my best Jason Statham impression)…


Jorge: What’s the first rule when entering a man’s car?
Mrs. J: Kiss the man! [Leans over and plants a kiss on my ugly mug.]
[Jorge is all smiles now. He pulls the car away from the curb and begins driving. Suddenly a thought crosses his mind…]
Jorge: I’d have thought that the first rule would be to make sure that the man is your husband.
Mrs. J: [Laughs.]

Yes. My life is a movie.

Two thumbs up!



Funniest Thing I Heard All Day

I was riding the subway to work today, as I do every day.

Every time the subway left a platform, it would slowly accelerate, jerk once, and then keep accelerating until it reached it’s cruising speed. The cruising speed was not all that quick for some reason.

I didn’t think anything of it, as a lot of the subways are older and prone to odd glitches.

About halfway through my trip, the subway driver piped up over the loudspeaker…


Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I would like to apologize for the delay…


Everyone groaned. Usually when messages begin like that it means we’ll have to get off the subway at the next stop or the subway will have to stop and sit still for a number of minutes (usually about five or ten) due to some problem up ahead…


…The delay is due to the fact that mechanical problems are not allowing us to reach our top speed. This is causing our trip across the city to be somewhat longer than normal and again, I apologize. I have called for a mechanic to meet us further along the route to fix the problem. You can understand that mechanics for these trains are hard to find, as no one really likes to try to repair antiques…


I laughed pretty loudly at his blatant shot at the lack of modern equipment. Folks like him make my day.

Always Choose to Accept It

Always Check Your Food

The other day, I was doing some chores and cooking dinner at the same time.

I was cooking a pork chop.

I thought I had finished cooking it, as it was somewhat charred on the outside. Admittedly, our landlady set us up with a new stove and I’m not quite used to it yet, so I thought I had burned the chop but good.

I decided to eat it anyway, slathering rib sauce on it to mask the taste of charcoal.

I would take a bite, do an errand around the house, come back and take another bite, etc.

On the third bite, I realized that it was chewier than normal. I looked at the pork chop and saw that while the outside was charred, the inside was raw.

In my haste to complete some household chores, I neglected to check that the meat I was eating was cooked all the way through.

That was Tuesday night.

Today is Saturday.

I have one word for you…


TOILET


Let this be a lesson. Always make sure you cook your meat properly.

Ugh.



Your Mission, if You Choose to Accept it…

A friend of mine works in a company in the IT department. There are not many of them in this department (two if I understand him correctly).

His departmental accomplice (who we will call Miss X) is an expert in one part of the business while my friend takes care of the rest.

A lot of the time, people are looking for Miss X. They usually ask my friend where she is.

He’s arrived at an impasse for creative answers, so he asked me to appeal to my audience for some suggestions on creative answers.

I had two…



Scenario One

Person asks for Miss X. My friend has a cleverly constructed sock puppet likeness of her. He does an impromptu puppet show to make the person feel awkward.


Scenario Two

Person asks for Miss X. My friend asks the person to wait a sec while he picks up a pen from behind his desk. While down there, he dons a wig (the same colour as Miss X’s hair colour) and applies some makeup. He gets up from behind the desk and proceeds to talk like Miss X, making the person feel awkward.


So, let me know what suggestions you have. He’ll read the comments and I’m sure fun will be had by all. Except, of course for Miss X and her adoring fans.

The Furry Poocano Stats

Heart Attack From the Furry Children

One of the biggest problems with pets (and animals in general) is that they don’t talk. Notice, I didn’t say they can’t talk. This is because I firmly believe they actually can but choose not to say anything to us. This can be a problem when there is something medically wrong with them.

We were off for the weekend to Ottawa (only a few days), and our cats are generally good on their own. They keep each other occupied and sleep all day.

Our landlady was fixing up something in our bathroom, so we moved the litter boxes outside to a different place so that she could keep the bathroom door closed (to keep the cats out of the construction zone).

Unfortunately, we ran out of our normal litter, so we were using the back-up one. And we’d just finished adjusting their diet as well. Perhaps too many changes at once caused what we came home to.

When we arrived home from Ottawa, Logan was not really his freaky-energetic self. He was shaking, and there were telltale signs of cat urine all over the place. It seemed like it was really painful for him to urinate, and he would visit the litter box at least thirty times an hour to pee, and not actually manage to go through with it half the time. Sometimes he just ended up peeing wherever he was standing because it was just too unbearable to keep it in anymore. We didn’t know what was wrong (the lack of speech to tell us what was up).

We called one clinic, and they said it was a behavioural issue, and that everything would be fine now that we were home. We didn’t really think that diagnosis over the phone was accurate, so we called another place, and they told us to bring him in right away.

So we tucked him into the pet carrier while our other cat watched, and meowed, and then drove to Mississauga to the 24-hour clinic. After an hour or so, they figured out he had a bladder infection, and needed to hydrate. So they injected him under the skin with water (giving him a big, wet hump on his back), and gave us some pills to take care of his problem. This all took place on the morning of my Birthday. Not really the best way to celebrate, but our little guy needed help.

What really stuck with me is how the Mississauga clinic guy told us that it was good that we brought him in because he may not have lasted until the morning if we didn’t. A pox on the other clinic, I say!



The Poocano

The pills that we were given were to last about two weeks. We had to give Logan a pill in the morning and one at night – every day. This was challenging, but doable.

The problem with the pills was that they caused him to have the runs. He would use the litter box, and then go somewhere to clean himself, but the telltale signs of runniness were everywhere. It wasn’t really his fault. When your stool is softer, gravity seems to play a much more active role in distributing tracks all over the place.

One of the games that cats play is called hide and freak. Essentially one cat will hide around a corner and jump out at the other one, who was most likely minding their own business. Cats always leap vertically ass first usually turning in the air to land facing whatever startled them.

Unfortunately, poor Logan was on his way to the bathroom. Laila jumped out and Logan jumped high in the air, ass first, spraying crap in a wide arc all over the wall.

He landed, composed himself, and then ran into the bathroom.

I cleaned up the mess (which wasn’t too bad) and then made sure that Logan knew that he wasn’t in trouble.

The next day, I was chuckling to myself about what had transpired the night before. Mrs. Jorge was curious as to why I was laughing…


Mrs. J: What’s so funny?
Jorge: The cats last night.
MJ: What happened? Is everything okay?
J: Well, Laila scared the crap out of Logan!


The best material writes itself.

It has been a few years since he had that problem. It has never returned.



Stats Whore!

So, in this world that is obsessed with Stats, I figured I would just rattle off some numbers..

So….


Total Hits to Barking Space: 19363

Total Number of Haiku Written: 810

Links To My Blog (According to Technorati): 52

Sites Linking to my Blog (Technorati): 40

Technorati Rank: 46967

Number of Posts Linking to my Photography Page: 9

Number of Hits to my Photography Page: 1596


Craziness.