Monday, March 24, 2008

19th Letter of the Alphabet, Letter S

S, the sexy letter of the alphabet, flaunting her haunting sex appeal as she phantasmagorically strides her way into the dimly lit hall. The piano becomes silent, the men stand at immediate attention as the flaccid conversations come to an abrupt halt. This was the moment they have been waiting for. S has entered the hall, and she will choose to whom she will cleave. She will choose a new mate, a new letter she can proudly start words with or end them, it would be her choice. Her long relationship with H has left her longing for another, to be an addition to her family of vocular power. For now the other letters avoid eye contact, hoping, praying, that they be the one to be chosen. She raises her lace gloved hand, a collective gasp is heard as she points succulently towards the letter T. A new mate has been chosen.

S as far as i'm concerned, in her sexy state of self awareness, stands for none other than "sublime"

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Beer at the Airport

Hello all..

I'm having a seat at the airport here in Mon'ree-aaal, catchin’ a bird a day early due to some weather conditions brewing in Quebec, which would, heaven forbid, undoubtedly imprison me here for the weekend if the weather network is even half correct. I have only been here a few days and already looking forward to my fellow red-neck-english-speaking place of glory known as ALLLLberta. Well OK, just Calgary.. cause Edmonton still sucks.
As the insidiously expensive Heineken makes it way from my lips to my brain, I thought I would throw down a few comments of this great and wonderful place we call Quebec.

1. The only similarities between Quebec and Alberta is the currency, only it seems of little value here as they require a shit load more of it for the same item anywhere else in the fricken universe. Check this:

A buck forty eight / l of gas. No shit. I have a receipt to prove it, only it's all in French and they don't use a fricken decimal, it's replaced with a comma so it reads 1,48/l. I asked them, I says.. does this mean I have a choice? A dollar or a 48? I mean that's what a comma means don't it? And why are your gas pumps only au francais? I'm just guessing at the pay-at-the-pump push buttons here, for all I know I paid for everyone's gas, and they just laugh at my anglophonic ass, oh they laugh.. LAUGH IT UP.. Go Ahead, we sold you this gas anyway.

Twelve bucks for a pint of beer. Qu'est que hell? Yea you heard me right. Twelve bucks for a pint of DRAFT beer, and it's almost done. Most expensive beer I've ever bought, save for the beer I had a few years back which cost me fifteen, but that was a frothy golden south African beer served in a glimmering silver sleeve and delivered by a virgin, i would've paid more, way more. THAT was a good beer, this one is heineken out of a dirty tap. I says to her I says.. "that's what a six-pack costs where I come from." She says "pardon moi?" I repeat "THATS WHAT A SIX PACK COSTS WHERE I COME FROM" following the tried and true method of interlinguistic vocular crescendination technique, or a method of translating one's self my simply raising the voice, commonly practiced by americans whilst on vacation.

2. Signage. One word: IT SUCKS. For some reason, and I’m assuming not that long ago, the people of Quebec came up with the fricken idea of re-naming every road, every highway, every gravel road after some great French Canadian leader, completely and totally confusing the hell out of any English speaking Canadian daring to travel the roads without knowledge of francais history. I even had a GPS for the love of everything, but the names are so fricken long they don’t FIT on the SCREEN. And what the hell is a “rang”? I remember candies when I was a kid called rangs.. and the’re all over the signs here.. rang this, rang that.. what the hell, and “hippocyte”? seriously.. It took me over an hour to find the damn airport cause guess what? They recently renamed “Dorval International” to “international Pierre–Elliott–Trudeau (YMQ) et Mirabel (YMX).” I say recently cause HALF THE BLOODY SIGNS SAY ONE THING AND THE OTHER HALF SAY ANOTHER.. Oh I could go on and on.. and on.. and on..

Let’s see… is there a number three? Oh yea of course..

3. Pizza. Please please PLEASE dear francophones.. get the heck out of the pizza business. You have no idea how to make it, no idea at all. The pizza here is like cold wet meat on a soggy napkin, and tastes far worse. What?? No kidding. I was actually looking around for the hidden fricken camera, Hello? I’m on that stupid Just For Laughs Gags? I was afraid to see how much that cost and didn’t even want to look. Stick to your poutiny type cuisine and small expensive foods. Trying to impress a westerner with your pizza is like.. (trying to think of a good metaphor here).. like a French poodle trying to impress a pitbull with his lame-ass bark. (Does that work? I’m in a rush here.) Don’t screw with the pizza.

4. Traffic Signals. Holy crap. Lets see how many fricken signals we can fit in an intersection shall we? Oh then, let’s make some lights square, some triangle, don’t allow right turns on red and then remind them of that with eighteen red lights.. ok I get the point, can’t turn right on a red, THEN.. THEN.. LETS GET RID OF ALL THE LINES ON THE ROAD SO THEY CAN GUESS WHERE TO GO AFTER BEING TOLD THEY CAN GO BY A TRILLION LIGHTS!!! OH!! AND FEEL FREE TO USE YOUR HORNS AS MUCH AS YOU WANT! Cause THAT’S GONNA HELP!

5. Hotel rooms that flood, Delusional Drivers, the list goes on.




Monday, March 17, 2008

Drama at the Alt

So I'm at the Alt Hotel Quebec, laying on my bed watching the movie "I Am Legend" and just about when the movie starts getting good I hear a dripping sound in the bathroom. First I thought it was just a leaky faucet, but when the dripping started to increase in frequency I went to investigate. The source was a ceiling vent dripping water into the toilet. Not knowing much about plumbing, I knew this was wasn't right. With in seconds the dripping increased to a steady stream, then two streams, then a stream coming down from the light. I called the front desk.

"Hello, there is a downpour happening in my bathroom"
"Ah yes, very good, I will have it checked out, Merci"
"Very Good, thank you"

So now I'm just standing there watching this shower happen beside my shower and I'm thinking, this is stupid, I should go check this out. I leave the room and go to the room above me. As I get there the hotel manager is there as well. He knocks on the door, no answer. He uses his cordless phone, no answer. He is very apologetic to me and I tell him it's no problem and ask if there is anything I can do. He says no. He then goes to get a master key, comes back to open the door, the door opens but it is locked with the chain from the inside. He yells through the crack to anyone inside, no one answers. Now it's getting freaky, and I'm thinking someone is dead or near dead. Morbid curiousity getting the better of me I ask if he would like me to kick the door down, (rather in jest), he says no. He then calls the police, who arrive quickly. I was staying out of the way at this point, and really fought the urge to see what was up. I heard them kick the door down in three loud kicks.. (must've been a light weight). The cops are still in there.
I have since been given a new room, but no updates yet. EMT hasn't shown up, I hope that's a good sign. Bed time.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

What the..??

Here's something you can't make up:

(news link here)

Kansas woman Pam Babcock had a phobia about leaving her bathroom, so she stayed in there for two years, fusing her butt to the toilet seat so firmly a pry bar was needed to get it off. A PRY BAR.
Her boyfriend would send her food and new clothes and stuff, but she never got out. Donkey boyfriend waited 2 years before he scratched his head and thought that it might be time to call someone to help. 2 years, no calling for help, girlfriend in bathroom with toilet seat fused to ass.

Dear Boyfriend of Ms Toiletseatass,

What were you...?? what the...??? please explain why the....?? why would you... ?? why.. ......
Ah forget it.


Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Dawn Wells, "Mary Ann" From Gilligan's Island BUSTED


Who didn't like Mary Ann? I would take a three hour cruise with her, she seemed so nice and stuff. But OH the HORROR! The 69 year old got caught with marijuana, and now is serving six months probabtion, which isn't really that bad in and of itself, but still.. get your name smeared all over the front page of doesn't do much for one's reputation. GIVE ME A BREAK! Somehow, drinking your face off is legal but partaking in a little of the 'erb isn't. Or is it just the american's favourite facination with dissin' celebrities on every chance they can? Even 69 year old celebs like Dawn Wells? Yikes I say.. yikes.

Monday, March 10, 2008

18th Letter of the Alphabet, Letter R

Rough letter "R". How bout that. Interesting story actually how R came to be, R was totally and entirely conceived by the pirates of the south pacific back in the 1500s, here is the story:

Captain Theodius Pencivaleon, known as "Cap T", was a notorious pirate in his day. He was leading his fleet of three majestic tall ships into the Caribbean to set up an intercept attack point for a popular English merchant sailing vessel, "King of the Seas" led by Briton Captain William Fenton. Cap T and his crew were hopelessly greedy, and craving of some juicy plunder, the grog be runnin' low, and they be hopin for a crate o'rum, a crate o'rum they be hopin for indeed.

Captain Fenton was sailing back to England with his cargo holds full to the timbers of South American gold, Aztec artifacts, and gifts from the local inhabitants of the newly discovered world. A nervous eye held to a brass scope swept the horizon to and fro, to and fro, in search of dangers lurking in the form of the evil black Jolly Roger a' furlin'. The sheer weight of the cargo was holding the ship low in the warm waters of the sea, makin er a prime target for any pirate a'plundering.

It wasn't five days into the journey when lo and behold a cry from the crows nest came, sending a cold chill through the blood of Capt Fenton and his crew. Cap T was in sight, and closing in fast.

Be the morn of the 12th day of the 4th month, a valiant fight ensued. Many English man led by the sword, followed their spilled blood into the all-too-well-known locker o' Mr. Davy Jones, timbering their place into pirate lore.

It wasn't longer before Cpt. Fenton had but two options, die or surrender. He made his choice, and requested his 1st officer to bring out the white flag.
"I wish to speak!" Fenton cried from above the crashing and clashing of steel. The fighting stopped and all became silent, save for the creaking and grinding of the two captain's ships joined at the ballast, the seagulls crying overhead, and the moans of the injured celloing through the stagnant salty air.

"Aye!! Speak then! And Be fast! Ye I shall Plund!" shouts back Cap T, followed by cheers.

"We have been defeated. You have taken a lot of my men and we cannot continue to fight."

Another large piratic cheer flooded the area and died down when Cpt Fenton began to speak again, "I have something you might be wanting, something you have always wanted; the name Captain Theodius Pencivaleon in the Annals of Antiquity, and not because of what you have TAKEN but because of what you have GIVEN!"

"Aye??? AND WHAT BE THAT?? I AM A MAN OF THE PLUND!! I 'AVE NOTHIN' TO GIVE!?" replies Capt T with sarcastic intonation, and a hint of reverent curiosity.

"The King of England has asked of me to find a new symbol to be placed in the English alphabet in homage to the new lands found. If you accede my ship and my mates safety, I will bestow the task on thyself for the commissioning of the new symbol. What say ye Captain Theodius? What say ye to that??"

Fenton stood steadfast on the blood soaked deck, starring up at the stoic pirate captain, watching him consider his offer. Knowing his enemy well, he knew his offer would not be refused. A pirate captain's life is plagued by many things, but most of all, he is plagued by his own ego, and refusing an offer which promises a bolster his ego was not an option. Not now, not never.

After minutes, the silence was broken. "Aye!" Cap T shouts. "I ACCEPT YE"

"What be thy new symbol then Theodius? What be thy new symbol you have chosen?" Fenton asks, motioning to his 1st officer to quickly fetch the scribe from below.

Cap T turns to his crew and shouts "AYE! MATES!! WHAT BE YE SYMBOL?"

In a unison response of orchestrated sword raising madness, a large cry came up from the pirates..

The letter "R" came to be, came to be it did, carved into the large sails of Capt Fenton's ship as it sailed sheepishly into harbor on a cold foggy day. A violent reminder of the letter's origin, and a testimony to the ego of a pirate.

"Sir, we are ready to drop anchor, on your command" the first officer informed.

"Right then, ready the anchor, ready the raft, drop the anchor."

"Roger, Captain, Roger that."


Saturday, March 1, 2008

17th Letter of the Alphabet, Letter Q

Seems letter Q is missing.. Rumor has it, it may show up somewhere else..