Nov 14

174 Albert

There wasn’t a cab driver in Cobourg that didn’t know that address in the 90’s. Some of the best times, with the best people happened right there. I don’t remember the exact circumstances of how I ended up being invited over there, almost every night, but I think it had to do with Mickey and the boys eating at the restaurant all the time.

I love Google Street View.

It was a constant party there. I mean it. Someone was drinking there every night of the week. It was crazy. We did a lot of stupid shit at that house, like building a potato cannon and lobbing whatever fruits and vegetables we could stuff into it over the houses towards the lake. It was a few streets back, so I doubt any of them made it, but when you are hammered at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, your trajectory knowledge of Lysol propelled produce is not at it’s peak.

I remember the day that Rocket and I finished the cannon. We were so excited, that we couldn’t wait to go to the store and buy potatoes, so we raided Mick’s fridge and cupboards. we got peaches, lemons, apples and potatoes. We had a cut off hockey stick as a ramrod, and an electronic BBQ sparker as our ignition source. It was pretty slick, let me tell you. Continue reading

Oct 02

I Love Free Food

I guess I have since I was a kid. I can remember driving around with my dad, a shotgun pointing at the floor, and me being so excited to be doing man things, that I would be just vibrating. He would let me wear his old hunting coat and/or hat, I would drape it over my tiny body, and off we would go to see if we could get a couple of grouse (what we always called “partridge”), a coyote, or maybe even a few rabbits.

These were great fences, because the grouse would often walk back and forth on them, “drumming” for a mate.

We would drive all over the back roads, going particularly slow when there was an old split rail fence or some other spot that had good visibility. Dad would watch the driver’s side, and I’d watch mine, but he got to do all of the shooting, at least until I was ten or so. Continue reading

Sep 25

I Got Banned From Coaching Little League

I’m linking this post up for the challenge grid at Yeah Write. Come and check out some of the talented writers over there. You shan’t be disappointed.

 

Big whiffer, sa-wing batter, batter, batter

How Scooter’s cousin, Handsome Bastard and I ended up coaching a hardball team in the Legion league escapes me now, but we were really doing a good job. We would practice once or twice a week, which was not common in that level of play, and our team was seeing a big improvement. The kids were making friends with each other and the mommies were out in their shorts and tight shirts. Everything was right in the world.

Then the league supervisors came and took our two top players, replacing them with the two weakest players from the lowest ranked team.

It was explained to us that our team was far better than the others, and that it wasn’t fair to the kids on the weaker teams to always lose their games. They were trying to make it so that it’s not a matter of winning or losing, but just going out and having fun.

I was pissed. Royally fucking pissed. These little boys and girls were taking extra time each week to go to practice, improve their playing skills, and grow as a team. They were forming bonds through hard work and learning new skills and now this was being taken away, because they practiced and got too good for the league. The two guys that got traded out were upset at being uprooted from their new and old friends, and put into another group of players that they now had to get to know. I voiced my displeasure at this, and thought selfishly about how hard we were going to have to work with the two new girls that were deathly afraid of the ball or any sort of movement. Continue reading

Sep 19

Hey Man, You Got Any Weed?

 

That’s what I heard as I was tying my boat up to a tree on Monkey Island.

I was around 14 at the time, and had a 12 foot aluminum boat with a 1956 MW outboard that was perpetually on the edge of death. It ran on one cylinder for the most part, but every once in a while you could call up the power and it would kick in and run on both.

To give you an idea of what it was like, here’s a video of one that is in about five times better shape, and running properly. You don’t need to watch the whole thing, but you sure can if you want to.


Now that you see what we were dealing with back then, I shall continue on.

The old motor used to snap shear pins like they were going out of style, so we were given a handful of nails with the heads bent over on them. There was no way that we were going to break a bunch of proper shear pins, because they cost money, and that was something that was in short supply around our place.

This brings me back to the story that I set out to tell. I was supposed to go and get Scooter after lunch, but I still had a couple of hours to kill in the meantime. I decided I’d take the old boat over to Monkey Island while I was waiting, and see who was around. Continue reading

Sep 12

An In-Depth View Of The Male Orgasm

I got a request the other day to put into words the feeling of the male orgasm. While I can’t speak for every man, I can describe what’s going through my tiny man-brain, and also what’s going through my regular man brain.

I’ve decided to add photographs of myself in different levels of orgasm, and while you might be telling yourself (and others) that sex with me must be pretty boring if my beautiful wife is able to take photographs whilst in the throes of passion. Well, I’d like to point out that she’s a fucking professional (Notice the play on words?). She is able to take herself out of the scene, and focus on the task at hand. Sure the task at hand is sometimes reading, taking her contacts out, or sleeping, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that she is always eager to help me to put out the most professionalinane blog posts known to humans.

Whatever it takes. Right, Baby?

I’ve also decided to describe the facial expressions from my soul mate, life partner, and voice of reason, but only because I kept dropping the camera while trying to get the pictures I needed. After I dropped the 5D on her forehead, and then my Android in her eye (She made me use the lightest camera we have after I put the dent in her melon), she decided that I wasn’t strong enough to carry out this manoeuvre, and I would have to “suck it up” and quit wasting her time. Hey, I have a bad shoulder, and it’s really hard to hold myself up with my left. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE!

Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get back on topic. I’m going to describe a non-Cialis, above-average orgasm. I would love to tell you about average orgasms, but I just don’t have them anymore.

First off, there is the cocooning that prequels the actual act, and then there is “The Mount”

Oh my god. I’m really going to have some sex. Oh wow, it’s really happening…

Continue reading