Feb 20

I’m All Fired Up

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Remember a few weeks ago when I went to Winnipeg for a blog conference? It was the shizz. I started to tell you about it, but got sidetracked by a bunch of stuff, like the new blog, going to camp, and The Savvy’s birthday party.

What the conference did was got me writing and thinking again. Not so much here, but I’m going to try and split my time up between the two blogs. Now that Aiming Low has been suspended, I will have a bit more time for my own thing.

Yeah, Anissa has been sick since December or something, and she wants to get healthy and spend time with her family. How selfish. Nah, I don’t blame her at all, but I’m still a little bit sad about it. I enjoyed having a deadline, as strange as that sounds, and I’ll miss all of the Google group firings and tomfoolery. If it hadn’t been for my AL posts, I wouldn’t have written anything for a couple of months.

Yipes!

That’s why I needed to go to the Peg. I knew months before I went, that I was going to start a new blog, but that was the kick in the arse that I needed. I had forgotten how exciting blogging was when I first started.

Researching, typing, finding photos, reading, correcting, and re-reading for hours, and then you get to hit that “Publish” button.

It doesn't looks as ominous as it used to.

It doesn’t looks as ominous as it used to.

And you wait.

Will they like it? Will anyone even read it? How many people will be offended by the “C” word? I hope they share it. They probably won’t, but I still hope they will.

These are the things that go through my head, and then I go to bed. When I wake up, I’m sharing it around and checking the stats (today’s post took the lead by 3). As much as I feel foolish admitting it, it really is a rush.

For me. Probably not for you.

On Change The Topic, I rarely ever look at the stats anymore. I will if I write a post that I really put a lot into, but that has been less and less lately. I still need the old girl, but things have changed.

I think it’s like my mom’s Swiss steak, it always makes me feel good, but Reboot is like sitting down to a whole bunch of shared plates at our favourite Thai restaurant. It’s an assortment of exciting flavours, and because Harry doesn’t hear as well as he used to, it’s a crap shoot as to whether you will get your basil beef in any sort of mild form.

If you know me, you know that I’m not always mild. It doesn’t make me a bad person.

My Point

I just wanted to let you all know what is going on in my world. If you care.

Oh, I’m in a way better camp now. It’s the Wonowon Lodge. If you end up working in the area, this is way better than the Super 96. Just a heads up.

Speaking of camps, we have a reviewer who is going to be submitting reviews of camps that he has been to. He’s sort of like Smarty Pantaloons, but I don’t believe he’s addicted to any sort of household cleaner. That won’t be here, if he writes like he talks.

I’m looking forward to coming home in March. I have a urologist appointment to find out why there is blood in my urine. The ultrasound found a cyst, but my doctor said that’s common, and it shouldn’t cause any bleeding.

That’s not why I’m looking forward to it though. I want to go to this.

It's going to be SAH-WEET!!!

It’s going to be SAH-WEET!!! Click the link above, or contact someone to get your tickets.

I can’t even imagine what kind of shenanigans there will be. I won’t have had any libations since the 8th of February, so I should be in fine form. I hope that some of you will come out to this and get your party on with me. I probably need to flush my system for the urologist on the next Tuesday and I might need help holding the funnel.

Alright. I guess that’s it. If you want to check out the new blog, it’s at www.rebootcommonsense.com, but I am warning you now. It is right full of swearing and possibly some anger. It’s oilfield swearing, too. Not your run of the mill cussing going on over there.

Jenny, don’t change your number, 867-5309 867-5309 867-5309 867-5309,

Birdman

Dec 18

Where Did We Go Wrong?

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A good friend posted a status on Facebook about the changes to school safety and restrictions since we were teenagers. It was more a question about us as a society, but mentioned how he was allowed to make a crossbow in shop class, and also transport it to and from school on the bus. He alludes to the fact that this would not fly in today’s world, and he wants to know what the hell happened to us to cause such a huge shift, and how we can reverse it.

Fair enough right?

When I was in high school, a kid from another school in town was making a meat tenderizing hammer in shop class. While he was minding his business at his locker, another kid started teasing him about who knows what. Turns out this was one too many teasings, because he clocked the asshole in the eye with the hammer he had just made.

Maybe not exactly like this one.

Maybe not exactly like it, but it was metal.

Is that the right way to handle a bully? Probably not, but it would sure get the point across. To me, anyhow.

Did it stop the other guy from teasing him again? Probably not; that guy was a fucking douchebag. I assume he still is, but I’d like to think that he’s changed.

Now the guy that did the hitting and I had some pretty good fights over the years. Probably because of me being mouthy, but I think it was more like neither of us took shit from people, including each other.

It was always hit and miss with us. I can’t even count the amount of scuffles we had, but I don’t remember one time that we told on each other. I remember after one fight; he smashed my window with his fist and I had to sit in the principal’s office the next day and tell everyone that I thought a bunch of kids were throwing snowballs and that one must have had a rock in it. I had to do this while sitting beside him; both of our faces and knuckles probably cut and bruised.

It never even occurred to me to throw him under the proverbial bus.

I guess it’s possible that it was him, or a bunch of guys like him, that brought about heightened school security and the beginning of humanity’s demise, but I doubt it.

The guy who got hit, on the other hand, was a spoiled brat. He acted like he was better than everyone else and was quite vocal about it. I really believe that he thought he could do no wrong. Even as a young adult he was a rotten prick.

One night, I was on a friendly date, (that means she wouldn’t have sex with me) and we went into an establishment owned by his family. He was drunk and obnoxious, as usual, and proceeded to sit at our table and start hitting on the girl I was with. When he saw the grimace on my face, he asked her what she was doing with an asshole like me.

I took offence to this, as I was wont to do back then, and told him to step outside. As we were on our way out to the beatdown, I was stopped by three older gentlemen who explained that they were regulars there, and that I should just leave him alone. They told me he was drunk, and it wasn’t his fault that he was being a complete dick.

I was pretty sure I could take any of them, one on one, but they made it clear that it wouldn’t be going down like that, so I allowed the waitress to put the drunken fuck in a cab and get him out of there. He didn’t lose his job, and was probably clapped on the back by his friends for putting that “skid” in his place. Probably as they stood around drinking Molson Brador and lighting their hash oil doobies with five dollar bills.

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Photo credit: David Castillo Dominici/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

The problem was that this guy’s family never seemed to punish him for his behaviour. There were never any ramifications for his actions, for some reason. If there had been, I think things would have been much different, but you have to remember that it’s not just him. There are millions of people out there that think they can talk to people like they are somehow less deserving of respect for some reason. It might be their looks, their financial situation, their ancestry, or their intelligence. No matter what it is, they have the right to live their life without fear of being bullied. Unless they are Irish or something, then all bets are off.

Another thing that was mentioned in a comment was that the reason for the lack of morality in the world was the lack of God. I assume the person meant the Christian god, but I may have misread that.

As you may know, I don’t care what someone believes in, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone, and it isn’t pushed on others by way of the public school system or other secular places and events. Well, unless all religions are going to be taught equally, but what are the chances that will happen?

As for morality being linked with Christianity, or any religion, more than Atheism or Agnosticism? That’s bullshit, and anyone who knows non-believers and faithful alike, knows this. There is good and bad in every religion, race, country, and person. You should believe in whatever makes you feel good, and not because your family, friends, or a charismatic stranger says you should. Study up on everything and make an educated choice. Don’t ever feel that if you choose one or the other, that you will be more or less righteous. It just doesn’t work that way.

You are who you are. That doesn’t mean that you can’t better yourself, but it does mean that if you want the peace and love, you can have it. As much as you want to strive for, if you go about it the right way. It also means that you can go the other way if you want. It’s totally up to you.

I guess the question is whether you want to ruin people’s lives or enrich them?

Make the right choice for you, and for the love of whatever you believe in, pay attention to your kids. They need it more than you think.

Birdman

 

 

Dec 04

Gala Parté 2013

And Darrin!

And Darrin!

Well, Movember has come and gone, but that shouldn’t mean that you quit thinking about men’s cancers. They get people all year long, so  keep on top of it.

There, I’m done all of my harping and begging. We rang out the end of what has become my favourite month of the year, and we did it with style and grace. That means that I’m going to have to wing it until the time comes for Float Your Fanny Down The Ganny preparations. It also means that I have a few photos to show you. Some are like this.

This is excited she gets when she sees a razor in my hand.

This is how excited she gets when she sees a razor in my hand.

Or there was the one on the Brady’s bed before they got to the hotel.

Nothing like a good pillow hump.

Nothing like a good pillow hump. Yes, I got them both.

I just like to be the first to hump in a fresh hotel bed, that’s all.

Come on. With a mo like that, you know he's going to destroy that bed as soon as the room gets cleared.

Come on. With a mo like that, you know he’s going to destroy that bed as soon as the room gets cleared.

Soon we had the whole gang in to our little home away from home.

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Then Scooter and Homes brought me something to wear.

Too much teeth. I'm not good at being a gang banger, but I'm trying, Mo. Really I am.

Too much teeth and glass. I’m not good at being a vato, but I’m trying, Mo. Really I am.

Scooter, Gadget, Homes, and I had left the hotel first, and while we were in the cab, Homes passed me half a bottle of tequila.

“No, I’m okay.”, I said

“That’s not the answer I was looking for, Ese. I left the cap in the the room and we can’t take it in the bar.” was his reply.

“You can’t waste good tequila.” said I, and then the bottle made it’s rounds. Apparently Scooter and Gadget aren’t wasteful either.

Gadget dressed up too. Looks like it's working for him.

Gadget dressed up too. Looks like it’s working for him.

Remember this from last year? Well, remember it for later.

Remember this from last year’s party? No? Well, remember it for later.

Homes and Scooter buggered off somewhere after they got their free beer tickets. Gadget and I cruised the strip looking for action and we found it at the Sher-Wood booth.

He, of course, kicked my ass, but we both got a free mini stick out of the deal, so it was all good. There was also the Harley booth.

He likes to touch my belly sometimes.

He likes to touch my belly sometimes. It’s because I’m gangsta.

We made a flip book thing too, but it would be hard to show here. Also, I don’t have it.

Dwayne Gretzky played again. They were awesome again. Scooter showed back up and danced.

With the devil!

Or maybe it's Rich Uncle Pennybags from Monopoly.

Or maybe it’s Rich Uncle Pennybags from Monopoly, they’re very similar.

It was about this time that everyone else showed up. Mrs. Birdman started a game with Firecracker where you had to get your picture taken with as many people as possible, but she promptly forgot about it because of her amnesia juice. That juice also made her forget to check her phone while she stood in the crowd and watched the band. Not that I was trying to find her. Much.

Firecracker, on the other hand, did not forget that shit. I would need three posts just to show the dedication that this spunky little ginger showed at that party. I guess I’ll just post all of the photos on the Google+ page for whoever wants to see.

Cheers, Tweezle. You're not going to see much of her for the rest of the night.

Cheers, Tweezle. You’re not going to see much of her for the rest of the night.

(While you’re there, you might as well add us to your circles. We don’t bite… hard.)

There is one chain of events that transpired with The Centaur, Mrs. Brady, Firecracker, and the Coke man, that is too funny to not post. I wasn’t there, but Tweezle did a great job of capturing it’s entirety, so it feels like I was.

She probably thought it was a lead shank.

She probably thought it was a lead shank.

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So she has now let go and things start going downhill.

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But wait! The Coke man thought he had better take control of the situation.

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Don’t let go until his balls drop.

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Okay, you’re good, Now let go of that stud and go on about your business.

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Upsy daisy.

While these guys were clowning around, Dale Jr. and Danica were out making new friends.

I don't even want to know where this is going. Wait. Yes I do.

I don’t even want to know where this is going. Wait. Yes I do.

Do you like the way I painted it grey like an elephant's trunk?

Do you like the way I painted it grey like an elephant’s trunk?

Things started to slide after the band stopped, so Gadget and I loaded one cab full and went back in to round up the rest of the crew, but Firecracker would have none of it. I think we had a pants off dance off, because I remember dancing, then I remember wearing some black, lacy panties when I was back at the hotel. I am just guessing of course, but she claimed them, so I’d say I won.

While we were back inside, we decided that we needed a huge inflatable moustache.

It's the one that's obvious.

It’s the one that’s obvious.

The problem was that there was a security guard that was no help at all. He wouldn’t even lift me up so I could undo the ropes. He said I had to go and ask one of the Movember Canada staff.

I’ll find Emma. She seems awesome in her emails.

No dice, but I did meet her partner. She thought it was a great idea for us to steal the stache. She put me in touch with Dancy McGee, but she said that we could absolutely not steal that moustache. I believe she then got some more security on it and pointed me out as a possible culprit.

This left the front door almost wide open with three guards at the back door.

Hello, what feels like an 80 lb block of ice.

Hello, what feels like an 80 lb block of ice.

This will look so good on your lawn.

This will look so good on your lawn.

Tongues don't stick at +3°C

Some dude asked us if we wanted to go outside and do some ice. It wasn’t that good.

Rub a dub dub.

Rub a dub dub. What a pair of assholes we are.

We want to thank Appleton Estates for the delicious rum, ginger beer and cranberry drinks. You maybe shouldn’t have given out so many, but we’re glad that you did.

Oh, and If you were planning on using this sculpture again, you aren’t.

I woke up still drunk at what I thought was 5 or 6 AM and sat on the toilet eating Zantac and drinking water to cure my pounding headache. I then started investigating where the cold air was coming from. I looked in the shower. My memory started to come back and I decided that I should start melting it down so people could shower if they wanted to.

Apparently just having the door closed wasn’t very much soundproofing. I was startled by a beautiful face in the doorway telling me I was waking up everybody, and to go back to bed. I explained my logic in my trademark loud whisper and was told that it was still night and to shut off the shower and get the fuck back to bed.

I did.

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This was all that was left after Mr. Brady’s shower, so I’d say we did a good job of getting rid of the evidence. Well except for this blog post. And all the pictures on G+. Oh, and the eyewitnesses. Meh. What are you gonna do?

Thank you to all who contributed your money to this year’s Movember campaign, and to all of my brothers and sisters who donated their time and their souls to it; I am so proud of you. You restore my faith in humanity daily and it keeps me going. That and Mrs. Birdman’s sweet love.

Mo on, Mo Fos,

Birdman

Nov 27

Old Buddies

MOBROS

Since I’ve been back I’ve had the chance to spend a bit of time with some good friends. A couple of them are guys that I haven’t seen in a long time, or so it feels anyhow.

When Brad messaged me to say he had an extra ticket for an Argos game, I didn’t question what the girl’s name was that had to cancel at the last minute. I just figured that it would be a great night out with an old friend after a very long month of work.

I was right.

First we hit up Wayne Gretzky’s for a few pints and a couple of damn fine burgers.

They didn't have Export. He wasn't happy about that.

They didn’t have Export. He wasn’t happy about that.

We also tried to make friends with the bartender that wasn’t a bald dude.

This kept him from complaining about no Ex.

This kept him from complaining about no Ex.

After we had our fill, we headed for the SkydomeRoger’s Centre and met this guy.

The customer is always right.

The customer is always right.

I told him that I’d buy a foam finger from him if he would Miley Cyrus it for the camera. He must work on commission, because he only complained a bit before giving us the goods.

Brad figured that he could have done a better job and showed him how someone who really wanted to make a sale would do it.

Wait for it...

Wait for it…

I would say that he watched the Grammies, or whatever show she did that on.

Not a money shot, but close enough for me.

Then we went inside and had an $11 beer. I thought that it would taste like the love of a good woman at that price, but it didn’t, it just tasted like regular beer. Live and learn, I guess.

I was told that there was a football game going on, but I couldn’t see past this.

He shoots, he scores!

He shoots, he scores!

Before you think that I’m just there perving out on the cheerleaders, you should probably judge this guy first.

Ooooh yeah. Mama's been doing her crunches.

Ooooh yeah. Mama’s been doing her crunches.

He recorded so much tits and ass that the battery died on his tablet and he had to start using his phone. It’s lucky that he didn’t wear it out, because I’d hate for him to have to borrow one of his kids ipods to finish up with.

There was a British boy band there. I think they were called One Direction, but I may be mistaken.

Which one is Niall?

Which one is Niall?

I don’t remember who won, because we fucked off before the game ended, but I hope it was whoever you like. We decided that the best thing about the night was getting pissy (it’s not misspelled) in a bar, eating street meat, and calling Shauna from the bus station to find out what Bessy’s name was.

Next time I hope we will meet up and head to the Cameron House to check out some bands and support some locals, but until then I will just remember having a great night with a good friend.

Not a real smiley prick, is he?

Not a real smiley prick, is he? It might be because he just had to buy the $22 round.

I need to spend more time with my pals. It makes me happy.

It sometimes makes me drunk too.

Like this past weekend, when Chin Daddy and I went to the camp. It was so good to catch up with him, even if he didn’t agree with my method of getting the torch working better.

I tried to explain to him that I was a professional.

I tried to explain to him that I was a professional.

There wasn’t as much photographic evidence, but it was fun and relaxing. I think it was the first time I’ve ever drank beer with Chin and it was glorious. It was also the first time I have drank a bottle of Bailey’s with him. It’s not because we wanted to. We were starting to nod off, so out came the coffee and we didn’t have any cream so…

There's a guy who is no stranger to late night caffeine.

There’s a guy who is no stranger to late night caffeine.

You know the feeling you get when a really good friend is truly happy? That smile that comes from just above your belly button and works its way up through your body? Well I had it that night. I love to see people who deserve something great finally get it.

The pink brings out the red in his eyes.

The pink brings out the red in his eyes.

For those of you that are relatively new here and didn’t think that my writing was worth digging around, Chin and I went on a great adventure together. It was one of the best trips of my life, and really showed me what a stand up guy that my new friend was. I learned quickly that if Chin said he was going to do something, he did it. Another thing I learned was that if you thanked him for anything, he would say “That’s what I’m here for.” With a straight face.

Seriously. Maybe I’m easily amused, but it made me laugh every time.

“Thanks for holding the door.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Thanks for not warning me about that fart. I like it when my nostrils and mouth are full of that burnt hair odor. It tastes like sheep shit smells.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

You get the picture. It was a trip I would do again in a heartbeat. He’s one of those guys that you know you can count on, and it doesn’t hurt that he can keep me laughing all the time.

He’s a good friend, just like Brad, but Brad and I didn’t talk about going to the doctor at all for check ups and shit, like Chin and I did. We agreed that it was stupid for guys to not go get checked out, especially when there is something wrong.

Like another good friend of mine did. He knew there was a problem and for whatever reason decided to wait it out and hope for the best. I’m happy to say that he was okay, but it still scared me.

The thing is that I fucking love my friends. I really don’t want them to die.

Capture

So please get yourselves checked when something isn’t right. Like the blood in my urine. I know that I have a few symptoms of prostate cancer, but I kept forgetting to call back for an appointment.

Until yesterday. I went in and booked my ultrasound after all of that preaching I have done to everyone.

Sometimes it takes a bit of harping, but I’d rather be known as a nag with healthy friends and family than an agreeable bastard that’s always putting people in the ground. This is why Movember is so important to me. I would love it if you could donate a little bit to the cause at Chris Bird’s Mo Space, but I understand if you can’t, because times are tough for a lot of folks. The nice thing about this is that even if you are short on funds, you can go here and get some fantastic info to help you properly nag at the fellas in your life.

You never know; it could save their life.

Thank you for being a friend, travelled down the road and back again,

Birdman

Nov 20

The Shavedown – Part 3

MOBROS

Darrin too, but he was a late bloomer.

That’s right, if you are new here, then you should step back a bit and check out Part 1 and work your way through. If you refuse, then I will give you a quick rundown of what has happened so far.

We went to Kelly’s Homelike Inn for a shavedown party. There was a jam band and they were awesome. There were photos of drunk shaving with a straight razor and blood.

You’re all caught up.

Kelly's Homelike InnJust going to have a pint at Kelly’s is worth the trip. It’s a sports bar for manly men and the women who love them.

Well, now it is. It didn’t used to be boob friendly.

When I was a wee lad, no women were allowed in there, but around 1976 or 77, they changed that rule. I’m sure the guys taking off early to chase some tail every night was hard to watch as a business owner. Kind of like when they finally got their liquor licence. Gord told me that when they just sold beer, guys would come in for a few, then bugger off to somewhere that they could fill their bellies with whiskey. They were losing out on some business that they were already set up for, I guess.

Chalk it up to changing times.

You know what isn’t changing? How sexy and talented The Savvy is. Ask Jay Sharp of Big Breakfast Blog and Eggs fame about The Savvy’s animal magnetism. He’s renowned for it. I think it’s the yoga pants he wears.

Anyhow, enough about that beast. We’re here to finish off the Shavedown Spectacular, once and for all. I think when we left off, it was Scooter’s turn to be shorn. I won the draw and got to lather him up.

So nice.

I wonder if you you have to go to school for barbering people?

I wonder if you you have to go to school for barbering people?

It was weird, but as I was applying the lather, Mr. Brady came back from the can with his eye crusted shut and a sinister look on his face. He exclaimed that he was shaving the next face and nobody was going to stop him. His one good eye was flicking around the room, maniacally.

Hey, who am I to argue?

I don't know what he whispered, but I'd say it wasn't very encouraging.

Scooter thought that maybe a righty shouldn’t be going southpaw on something like this.

"Oh, no problem," said Mr. Brady. "I'll switch it up right now.

“Oh, no problem,” said Mr. Brady. “I’ll switch it up right now.

"How about if I come up under here? Is that better, Scooter?"

“How about if I come up under here? Is that better, Scooter?”

I don’t think that Scooter figured it was better, but I guess you don’t argue with the crazy guy.

That feels like it's maybe too close. Way too close.

That feels like it’s maybe too close. Way too close.

The crackle in Scooter’s voice made me start paying attention. He’s usually pretty easy going and hard to rattle. Look at the size of him for crissakes.

"Whoa, Mr. B. What the hell are you doing? You're cutting him."

“Whoa, Mr. B. What the hell are you doing? You’re cutting him.”

Luckily he snapped out of it before the blade went deep.

Luckily he snapped out of it before the blade went deep.

I don’t know what got into Mr. Brady, but he got really weird until I said something to him. Scooter still won’t tell me what he was whispering in his ear. He just gets a twitch in his eye and his lip trembles.

It was lucky that I was there and had been nicked by a real barber before, because I knew that you have to stop the bleeding with powder. You see, while I was looking for something to clean up the blood with, I came across a can of Ajax. It’s probably not the same powder as the barber uses, but it might be. Either way, it should coagulate the blood, right?

"Dude, I'm almost 75% positive that it's what my barber uses. It is antiseptic too, and that kills the tetanus."

“Dude, I’m almost 75% positive that it’s what my barber uses. It is antiseptic too, and that kills the tetanus.”

(I don’t know if that’s true, but I think there’s bleach in it so it should kill some shit. Right?)

He wasn’t too keen on the idea. He kept yammering on about “Blah blah, gonna really sting, blah, might poison me, yadda yadda, I’m a whiny baby.”

You don't know until you try.

You don’t know until you try.

Well, I gotta say that he didn’t seem to enjoy that at all.

Hey, at least it worked. It would have sucked to have that kind of pain AND the bleeding.

Hey, at least it worked. It would have sucked to have that kind of pain AND the bleeding.

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While the big fella cleaned up, we went to work on Tweezle. The poor bastard has a bit of a baby face, and said he can’t grow real hair, but we still let Gadget have his turn at the blade for posterity’s sake.

They figured that he needed to at least look like he could grow a 'stache. Apparently a monacle too.

They figured that he needed to at least look like he could grow a some hair. Apparently a monocle too.

He really seemed proud of his moustache and goatee. Like he believed it was real and shit.

Look at me, I’m a dandy.

He actually seemed quite proud of his new moustache and goatee. It was like he believed it was real and shit. THEY JUST DREW IT ON YOU, TWEEZLE!

I want to shave his fancy little nose off.

I want to shave his fancy little nose right off.

It turned out that he’s a bit sensitive about his boyish growth of facial hair. I guess the guys at his work have teased him mercilessly and it gave him a complex. Now I feel bad for wanting to cut his nose off when he was so proud of his tiny lip weasel.

"Awwww, here. I'll shave ya, little fella."

“Awwww, here. I’ll shave ya, little fella.”

Look at the poor bastard. He probably needs to see a therapist because of us.

"Never mind. I'll do it myself. Just leave me alone."

“Never mind. I’ll do it myself. Just leave me alone.”

You know what? That’s bullshit. He knew he was coming to a shavedown. What did he think, that we were shaving each other’s fuzzy nutsacks? I don’t think so. It’s not even close to Scrotember yet.

"Haha, I'm the only one that isn't leaving here wounded. I can't believe they fell for that sappy BS. Suckers."

“Haha, I’m the only one that isn’t leaving here wounded. I can’t believe they fell for that sappy BS. Suckers.”

Yeah, I thought so. Look at that gloating peacock. Well, it looks like we might have a fight on our hands, because ALL MUST BLEED!!!

ALL MUST BLEED!!!

That’s some serious Matrix shit right there.

Facts

  1. No Mo Bros were hurt in this blog post. Yet.
  2. There’s a good chance that two of the five friends in this post will get cancer. It’s more than a 40% probability for Canadian men on average. That’s pretty scary.
  3. The incidences of prostate cancer in Canadian men have slightly declined since 2007.
  4. Movember Canada launched in 2007
  5. I’m trying to play off a coincidence as a correlation, but I have no proof.
  6. About twice a week I worry about getting cancer. Any cancer.
  7. I have a lot of guy friends. Some of them are going to die of prostate cancer, because they won’t catch it in time.
  8. I’m sick of people dying from this fucking disease, and while I realise that us raising some awareness and a few hundredthousand dollars (yay!) to put towards research isn’t going to solve the problem; it will help. It all helps.
  9. Me not raising any awareness or money doesn’t help anyone.

We will cure this dirty old disease, well if you’ve gots the poison I’ve gots the remedy,

Birdman