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Man About Town

In the spirit of having a title that doesn’t really refer to the body of the message, my dialogue today will have nothing to do with what I wrote as the header. You can thank Shatton for this. He’s a bad influence.

I was trying to figure out what to write today, as there are several things that are on my mind. Of course, in times of need, I turn to Shatton, who had a bunch of headers embedded in his Blog. He is a genius.



Superdickery

Albert sent me this site over MSN the other night when we were chatting. It is the funniest site I’ve come across in a long time. And what is funnier is that my mom owns a good portion of the comic books contained in that site.

When we were kids, my mom bought a big box of comics for us to read. I remember distinctly wondering why the covers of the books were so stupid. I suppose that the comic book industry was trying to get a broad range of people to enter the fold, so they started publishing whatever they could. Seriously, though, if these were published today, there would be plenty of lawsuits flying around.



Abreast – Not the Good Kind

One thing that really gets my goat are those people who like to walk like an army along the sidewalk. You know the kind. They stand shoulder to shoulder taking up the whole sidewalk, and march forward, blabbing on and on and not paying any attention the fact that some poor old lady has just climbed up a tree to get out of their sidewalk-hogging-way.

My new streategy is to treat this like a game of “Red Rover”. I will essentially stick to my route, and not really deviate very much (I tend to walk on the right side of the sidewalk, relative to the direction I am facing). Most people move out of the way.

Stupid people don’t. So they get knocked about like tenpins.

I love when people who get upset about this. They confront me about the fact that I got in their way. I usually politely remind them that the sidewalk is for everyone, and that they should pay more attention and walk in a more reasonable formation, so as not to take up so much room.

Some apologize. This is nice. On the other hand, some people just grumble to themselves, insisting that they have the right to block up the sidewalk.

There is a name for this type of person. My friend Christian shared it with me. The name is ass-cube.



Treated Like Crap

At the place where I work, we have something called “Treat Day”. Every payday, one of four teams brings in treats for people. I remember when I moved to this location, and people had heard that I liked to cook. They were very quick to tell me that it was always better when people brought in home-made stuff, rather than store-bought stuff.

I agreed with them. Nothing is worse than the person that shows up to a potluck (that has been specified as being a home-made goods potluck) with 2 bags of chips or something. The exception to this is if they had a reasonable excuse. You know. Things like…


  • My power was off all night
  • I was abducted by aliens and was probed, and quite liked it


The night before my first Treat Day, I made spring rolls. Filipino-style. From scratch (I didn’t make the Lumpia paper from scratch, but I do know how). I made one hundred of the two-inch long little treats. Pork. Shrimp. Water chestnuts. A whack of ingredients all hand diced and lovingly deep fried in groups of 6.

I really loves showing up to the potluck with my homemade treat, only to see a container of Kirkland cookies from Costco. What effort that must have taken!

Jackasses.

WTHITA?*******

I am going to hell.

My online english has become atrocious, and I continuously violate the sanctity of the written word in day-to-day e-mails and MSN Messenger.

It’s bad enough that I am met with blank stares from people when I tell them that I have a blog*. But I’ve been catching myself using abbreviated non-words to represent actual words, because, sadly, it’s just faster.

Or maybe I’m just getting lazy.

It all started with the abbreviated text in chat rooms and messenger programs:

Things like LOL**, ROTFLMAO***, HCIFTATFS****.

I remember using them for the first time back in university. I remember how convenient they were to use, and how much they sped up the conversation. Now I have become an abuser, and have taken my crimes to whole new levels. I have started using emoticons as a substitute for words.

For example…



Dave‘s Email: Hey Manus! How was your evening?
Jorge’s Response:
😀


Or…



Shatton‘s E-mail: Jorge! Holy crap! What did you think of that BFME game last night?
Jorge’s Response:
😯


And even…



Reay‘s E-mail: Jorge. How would I get from Union Station to the Airport using the TTC? Do you know which station I would have to transfer at? And do you know which bus I would need to catch?
Jorge’s Response:
🙄
Reay‘s Response: Thanks for nothing, Ass-Hat
Shatton‘s Response:
What are you talking about? It’s so obvious!

(My friend Suzy actually pointed out that I usually finish off every other line in MSN Messenger with a :). I have since gone to therapy to try and solve this problem.)


I’ve become the propagator of online idiocy. The lazy person’s way of communicating. This is not really very good.

What’s worse is that my e-sloth is constantly evolving. I have (as I mentioned before) started using non-words to represent real ones based on how they sound. Non-words like ‘prolly (probably) and mebbe (maybe – which makes no sense, as they contain the same number of letters) have started to infiltrate my dialogue on the net.

The funny thing is that when it comes to profanity, I will usually type out my expletives in full. In fact, I will even add letters to them, or run several together as one word to express my mood. Seventeen exclamation marks after a particularly good swear is not unheard of. So, not only am I lazy in the wrong area of communicating, but I have successfully managed to trip the alarms on all kinds of Spam Alert applications. My friend Reay has created an equation for this…



((H*E)^b)/(((BFME+A)*poo)/B) = S

Where


  • H = how often Jorge replies

  • E = Jorge’s replies of just emoticons

  • b = brown

  • BFME = Number of times Jorge has played Battle For Middle-Earth

  • A = Number of times Jorge has played Academy

  • poo = poo

  • B = Number of times Jorge has played Battlefront

  • S = The % likelihood the message will be SpamBlokkr2000(TM)-trapped e-mail

(Please note that Reay is not a mathematician)



You know things are not good when people are making equations out of your habits*****. I guess we’ll have to see what happens to me on this crazy road to perdition that I have chosen. At least my entries on my blog are written in full. Right?

Ah well.

😉******





* – blog – Web Log. A frequent publication of personal thoughts.
** – LOL – Laugh Out Loud
*** – ROTFLMAO – Rolling On The Floor Laughing My Ass Off
**** – HCIFTATFS – Holy Crap I Forgot To Add The Fabric Softener
***** – REAY = BEDWETTER
****** – 😉 – Van Hammersly
******* – WTHITA? – What The Hell Is This About?

Zing!

Every so often I’ll hear or say something that everyone thinks is funny. Maybe you will think these thigns are funny, too! Or, maybe you won’t. Either way, I’ll post them here, and maybe people will laugh.

This little exchange happened yesterday. The setting is our local watering hole….



Guy: I am an artist in the bedroom.
Girl: Really?
Guy: Yes. My canvas is my bed.
Jorge: Yeah, but your medium is urine, so what does that tell you?

Other Guy: NICE! Best…line…ever…

Something to Think About…

If you are a lover of animal lovers, does that make you a PETAphile?


Discuss