Aug 22

Is Everybody Fucked?

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You can take that question in a few different directions.

I look at the American elections, cringe, and ask myself if everybody is fucked in the head.

On one hand, you have a lying, orange, narcissist who absolutely cannot be trusted with the future of the country, but possibly will be, because of the other hand.

Over there sits a corrupt, lying, deceiver who also cannot be trusted with the future of the country.

I wish you had a third hand, America. You could put Jill Stein in it. I think Bernie Sanders would have been better, but he sold out and backed his party’s shitheel candidate. I think that Jill Stein is a better choice than either of the other two, but we all know that she hasn’t got a hope in hell of becoming the Chief Cook and Bottle Washer of that once great, and hopefully great once again, nation.

She just doesn’t have the backing of big business, or really anybody, other than some regular people who are fed up with all of the shit going on down there.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not just the States that are dealing with this shit, it’s just that they are in the limelight at the moment. We have our own highly corrupt bunch of talking suits here, as does almost every other “civilised” country on this once great planet, but right now, this buffonery is taking centre stage.

I really hope that something happens with the collective consciousness down there, and that somehow you can turn this shitshow around, because as your most Anglicized neighbours, we really want to be able to look to you for hope.

Hope to destroy the TPP, race wars, religious control of politicians, and all other forms of greed and corruption at all levels of government.

We would also like to see what freedom looks like again. We hope you can show us.

Which brings up another possible interpretation of the question:

Are we all fucked now? Is there any hope that the world will ever know peace? Is there a chance that we will ever be able to rid ourselves of the holier than thou image that most religions put in our heads?

I’m better than you, because my Bible tells me that I’m going to heaven. (Unless my god really can see inside my head, or what I did in Vegas last year.) All Muslims are filthy terrorists. Jews are trying to take over the world’s finances, and don’t even get me started on the gays. Why can’t they just go live on an island or stay in their closets? They’re an abomination in the eyes of the Lord.

To get the Muslim point of view, replace Bible with Quran, Muslims with Christians, terrorists with infidels, and the Lord with Allah.

You get the point.

Anyhow, I’m going to just keep building the chicken coop, tending to the worm farms and gardens, cuddling in with my baby at night, and hoping we wake up on Lasqueti Island.

It’s harder for The Man to find you there.

Peace

Apr 03

Wasn’t That A Party

Originally posted in June of 2012, I was going through and adding Amazon links to posts as people read them and this one came up today. By far my favourite night, and revisiting it has made me feel all happy and shit.

Well, we showed you the first batch of blissful photos from the wedding. Now you will get to see a bunch from the not so glamourous, but much more fun wedding dance. If you see yourself here, but don’t want your photo posted, please go to the Harass Us page and let us know. We can put a black circle over anyone’s head like it’s nobody’s business. I can’t imagine that anyone would have a problem, because like Gadget says: “If you go drinking with a photographer, and a guy with a blog, you have to expect to see yourself online.”

Totally accurate, and quite logical for a guy who wrote the C word on my arm at new years.

So now, without further ado, I give you some of the party pics.

I believe that Beaner is pretending to be a pterodactyl and Mrs. B is whatever the hell they eat.

Continue reading

Jun 14

When Is It Okay?

Birdman

Last night I finished my long day of Ingress and met some of the players for a bite to eat and a drink. While I was there, I heard a guy allude to wanting a certain sex act with our server.

Loud, and to the server. It made me feel a bit shocked and embarrassed.

That’s not cool, right? I mean flirting is one thing, but to loudly exclaim about what you would like them to do with their genitals is completely inappropriate.

Hint: These were mentioned.

Hint: These were mentioned.

I’m right, aren’t I? I like to always be right. It gives me a holier than thou feeling.

Now, does it make a difference if it’s two gay men?

I am legitimately asking a question, because I have seen it on several occasions, and I wonder if it’s a different protocol when it’s guy on guy.

Do you remember the time I shamelessly plugged an old post about flirting that reminded me of this?1)That’s right now.

There was another time that I was driving taxi, and a man with two drunk, middle aged women got in the cab. He started talking about getting me out of my shirt, and then reached up over the seat and started rubbing my chest. I grabbed his hand, twisting his wrist back and maybe making him squeal a bit. Partly because he startled me, but mostly because he was wildly inappropriate and invading my space.

Him and his cackling hens started calling me a hillbilly gay basher, and a piece of shit homophobe, and when I tried to explain that it would be no different than if they were driving and some dude that they don’t find attractive did that to them, there would be charges laid, but the one chick said that there was no way she would ever stoop so low as to be a cab driver. Anyhow, they wouldn’t shut up or listen, so I kicked their drunk asses out on the curb.

Luckily for them, it was pretty close to a bar, so it was kind of a bonus. Free cab ride, and they got their excitement for the night. I should have had my wits about me and drove them to Precious Corners or something.  At least then I would have got a little satisfaction from the deal.

I’m not painting gay men with the same brush2)unless they’re into it and there’s a cool sawbuck in it for me, because the overbearing, lecherous ones are a very small percentage. I just find it odd that people don’t seem to be as offended when a man openly does something to another man that may or may not be welcome. For all I know, it’s a globally accepted practice, and I’m crazy to think that the same courtesies should be offered to everyone, no matter who they are.3)Excluding the Welsh, of course

So what are your thoughts on it? If you are gay, would this offend you, or would it be a thing where it depends on the circumstances? If you are straight, please go out and do some field research for me. Remember to take precautions for your safety.4)mainly condoms, a panic button, and some lube

Birdman

Awesome footnotes   [ + ]

1. That’s right now.
2. unless they’re into it and there’s a cool sawbuck in it for me
3. Excluding the Welsh, of course
4. mainly condoms, a panic button, and some lube
Jun 05

Not My Night

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This is the most somber Birdman pic I could find.

I’m having a really shitty go of it this time, but of all shitty days and nights, tonight takes the cake for shittiness. I suppose that I have been extra depressed lately, what with the impending move across the country with my family in a bus, so that multiplies the shit exponentially, but holy fuck, really?

My night started as my work day ended, at about 5:00. I went home and finished watching the video that Mrs. B shared on G+. It was about the cool new ways that students are taught in the school district that the girls will be in next year. I tried to watch it while I was getting loaded at the pit, but it was hard with the rumble of diesels and always having to move ahead, so I went home and crashed into the bed under the ceiling fan to cool down and check out the video.

Then the crying started. Not the same crying as the night before, but still a grown man lying in bed with tears streaming down his face.1)luckily the box of crackers was still on the nightstand.

This was me crying about how much further I might have made it in school if we had as many forward thinkers back then, as they do in this area now, and also because I was so happy that people were finally figuring shit out. It’s been a lot of years with the same mentality towards teaching, and nothing was ever getting better. At least not from my perspective.

Now I think there’s hope. Not for the rest of my night, but for our future as a country.

As I finished blubbering, Johnny called to say that he had made these pizza egg rolls and if I wanted to try them, I had better get down there. I then called my sweetest love in the world, and interrupted the birthday party she was attending. She said that she would call me back, so I headed to Chubbie’s to try out these new tidbits.2)They were fucking delicious.

I then went to work to get my phone charger, and figured I’d see if my little truck would miraculously run now. Nope. Thanks for proving that miracles don’t exist, Jesus.

After that, I was going home to grab a shower and hit the sack early, when Johnny called and asked me to get something out of the freezer to thaw for him, I went home, and then in the spirit of helping a friend, I decided to go drop it off to him to save him the trip.

I should have just stayed home.

When I pulled up at the back of the restaurant, I left my car running and my phone on the charger. I ran into the shop and delivered the goods while stealing a pop. I walked back to the door and stopped to shoot the shit for a few minutes. When I went back to the car, I noticed that the door was locked and my phone was gone. Someone had leaned in the open window and snagged it. They also dropped a crumpled up paper towel on the driver’s seat.

I immediately assumed it was our friend David, because that would be a prank that he would do, but it wasn’t. I got John’s phone, called it uselessly and logged in to my Google account, so I could track it. It was one street over, so I took off down the alley, ready to punch the first person I saw with it, but there was nobody there. I met John as I was walking back, and then his phone rang. Someone had brought the phone into the pizza shop.

Yayyy.

I went back and the guy was still there, and pretty hammered. He told us that he saw a drunk native guy grab it out of my car and he followed him until the guy threw it away by the TD bank. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt, even though I am pretty sure he was the one that stole it, so I bought him a pizza.

It is sad that people find it so easy to blame the drunk native people, even though this guy was a drunk whitey that didn’t have enough money for a pop. He was talking about how he had just came from his buddy’s place after helping him change the springs in his drag car, which brought me back to the paper towel. When I looked at it, I immediately thought that it was mine from when I was working on the truck earlier. Most guys will recognize a dry paper towel that was used to wipe rust and dirt off of a pair of hands.

The problem was that I had used wet wipes, not paper towel.

Oh well, I got my phone back, and someone hungry got to eat. I left for that shower and my bed, and then this happened.

What fun!

What fun!

Yep. While I was frantically racing around looking for my phone, my tire was getting flatter. I went around the corner and it poked a bunch of holes in the inside sidewall. Yahoo.

The good news is that I will be getting new tires, and not a new phone. The bad news is that I have to get new tires, then new studded tires this winter. I was hoping these would last, but with an eternal slow leak on the driver’s side, and now this, I think it’s better to be safe than sorry. Tires are pretty important.

Oh, and when I got home, the post I had been writing offline got hidden in the computer during important updates. I’ll have to spend a bit of time looking for that I guess. Or try to rewrite.

Ah well, hopefully your day went smoother than mine.

18 MORE DAYS, BABY!

Birdman

P.S. The internet is working again.

Awesome footnotes   [ + ]

1. luckily the box of crackers was still on the nightstand.
2. They were fucking delicious.
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