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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.

Jorge’s Guide to Toronto – II

The Journey Continues…

Welcome back to my guide to the city I live in.

In this chapter, I will be dealing with a few more cultures, as well as some extra points you may want to consider.

Landmarks are an important part of travel. They are usually famous places that you can use as a point of reference, so you don’t get lost. You can also learn interesting things about the history of the city from some of the major landmarks, as steps have been taken to ensure that information is posted at these places. Landmarks can also make up part of the unique skyline of the city.

These skylines are like fingerprints. Every major city has a recognizable skyline. If you don’t know what the skyline of your city looks like, just go to a book shop or souvenier store and check out some postcards. A pattern will make itself apparent.

Toronto is no exception. In fact, it has one of the most recognizable skylines of any city in the world…



Is That a Landmark Or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

I have come to the conclusion that if the city of Toronto was a gender, it would be male. I’m not referring to the smell, or stuff lying all over the place. No, I am referring to the giant penis along the lakeshore in our downtown core.

The CN Tower was first conceived as a communications platform (radio and television), a testatment to Canadian ingenuity and probably a healthy dash of my-dad-can-beat-up-your-dad machismo.

From what I gather, the observation decks were added later on in the plan. Construction of the CN Tower was worked on non-stop for over three years. When it was finally completed, it was a sight to behold.

On top of being a communications nexus and observation tower, it also acts as an entertainment centre, complete with revolving restaurant and other goodies. If you decide to try to stand on the transparent floor and pretend you are Superman (the floor looks down several hundred metres to the cold, hard ground below), make sure you wear a diaper.

Visit the CN Tower if you ever find yourself in the neighbourhood. You won’t be disappointed. Following are two links to more information…



Actually, I just checked what I wrote against the Wikipedia entry and I was right on the money! Not that I would have changed anything if was wrong…



Portuguese

There are two major subgroups in this category: European and Brazilian. Since I haven’t been able to find the geographical distribution to indicate distinction, I’ve thrown them both into one category.

This could be considered a faux-pas, as I have observed that the older generations of European and Brazilian Portuguese people have some kind of long-standing feud based on something lost to memory. The younger generations don’t, though, which makes visiting these parts of town a lot more comfortable.

Another interesting distinction is the language. While they both speak Portuguese, they each have their own variations. European Portuguese is a clipped, sharp-sounding latinesque language. The Brazilian version, on the other hand, is softer and more sultry.

Vocabulary is also tricky. A Brazilian acquaintance of mine told me once that he was in Portugal, and someone asked him (in European Portuguese) to stand in a queue to wait for the banker. In Brazilian, the European word for queue translates to homosexual. Needless to say my acquaintance was momentarily taken aback. Brazilian contains a lot of slang, usually double meanings of a sexual nature. Hell, I think every word in Brazilian contains some sexual connotation.

From my observations, there are two major sections of the city that can be classified as Portuguese


  • Bloor St W from Ossington to Dufferin

  • Dundas St W from Ossington to Lansdowne


These neighbourhoods have some great little markets to do grocery shopping, as well as a lot of bakeries. You can’t visit one of these neighbourhoods without trying one of the infamous Portuguese custard tarts called pasteis de nata. These heavenly baked treats simply melt in your mouth. Each bakery and coffee shop has their own unique flavour. Ironically, in my opinion, the best pasteis de nata can be attained at Caldense, which is nowhere near the neighbourhoods listed above. These tarts are almost if not as good as the original pasteis from Belém in Porgugal.

When strolling around in these areas, you might also be lucky enough to see a game of Capoeira in progress. Capoeira is a Brazilian martial art, which you can read about here. You should join in the music by clapping to the rhythm (if those in the circle are clapping). Don’t stand too close to the inner circle surrounding the action, though. You might be asked to play.

Every lunch and dinner hour are bustling around these neighbourhoods. Weekends, there are probably even more people out for walks with their families, chatting with neighbours, and so on. Yes, in true Europen fashion, there are also old men wearing hats, playing cards and possibly soccer.





Index

  1. Introduction, Italian, Chinese

  2. CN Tower, Portuguese

  3. TTC, Greek

  4. Zanta, Ukrainian

A Quick Thought: Love

A Quick Thought

I was at my friend Leah‘s site last night, where she posted a question asking what love is.

I typed my answer in a comment.

I wanted to touch on the more active nature of the feelings around love. I bounced the comment off a few people and then refined it to reach something a little more widely understandable.

This is what I came up with (add your own thoughts in the comment section if you like)…


“You place all your faith in something beyond your senses and yet, through your will, it becomes more solid than stone.”


Hai-Kuul – Oct 20, 2005

More n’ More (Requested by princess_castle)
Yet another storm
Followed by a hurricane
Too much suffering


Stray Dogs (Requested by princess_castle)
Abandoned puppies
Left to their own devices
Trying to survive


Attitude (Requested by princess_castle)
What’s inside your mind
Can make itself apparent
In curious ways


Sleeping Bags (Requested by princess_castle)
Curled up and stock still
Tucked in the warmest blankets
Old ladies sleeping


O Well (Has been requested before by princess_castle)


What Else? (Requested by princess_castle)
So many choices
How many do we need for
True variety?




*Remember, you can submit a topic to inspire your very own Haiku Poem by clicking here. You can read about Hai-Kuul here.

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