Yeah, I forgot to add the blog webmail app to my last two phones, so it’s been a while.
There were hundreds of unchecked emails, but only about twenty that I actually cared about. Those were the companies wanting me to write about their shit, or them wanting me to post something they wrote about their shit.
I responded to all of them except the eight that were absolutely a no go.
Of the twelve, one has responded back with affirmation of pure joy, but they were very good at not showing any emotion at all.
Coincidentally, they were the ones that I was most intrigued by. Mostly because of their offer. They were willing to give me a credit on their client’s website if I wrote about the product.
Hey, if you’re going to drop a bomb on someone, make it a good one.
But why not go all out? They also have fancy shit.
As I looked around the site, I realised that I had absolutely no use for any of the products at the moment, but didn’t feel right about getting their hopes up and then saying I wasn’t interested.
You also can’t tell someone that you will write something for them and then take months, or most likely years, to actually get around to it. Especially when you command the attention of more than dozens of people.
So I have decided that I will let you all spend my credit frivolously.
Frivolously and with wanton abandon.
Go to Paperless Post and pick out anything from their site, or I can pick something for you. (take a screenshot or get the name)
Compose an email to email@example.com
Send me the info and the email address you want the card sent to.
Let me know what you thought of the lavish gift in a reply to the original email. Scale of 1-10 should be fine.
At the end, we will tally up the site and collectively do a review.
They said the credit will be there within the next three days, so when it goes in, I will start the shitshowfestivities.
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.
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.”
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 brush((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.((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.((mainly condoms, a panic button, and some lube))
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.((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.((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.
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.
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.