Ever notice how it's the little things in life that amuse us so much? More to the point, ever notice how it's the silly little idiocies in life that amuse us more than anything else? Well, this is not as much ''the little blog that could'' as it is ''the blog that enjoys going up the down escalator in your local mall.'' Will it have anything of real importance? No, probably not. But enjoy the ride never the less!

 
Doko Desu Ka?!

I don't really know what's worse: being somehow unable to locate not one, but two (count them: TWO) inanimate, unmoving, cemented-into-the-damned-building student overpasses at the University of Waterloo; or alternately, finding absolutely no moral support from my wife at all, who just giggled at my helplessness.

She's currently sitting behind me, reading this and sticking her tongue out at me. Though whether it's because she's being childish over my bemoaning of her endearing support (and notable lack thereof), or mocking me because I have the navigational skills of a dead, blind mole rat.

And after reading that last paragraph, she's currently sitting behind me with a no doubt indignant look on her face as she wallops me on the head with a pillow.

The night just isn't going in my favour.

(Mel adds somewhat caustically that, "Well it could have, but you just said "no" to sex in that part of the University's deserted and under-construction section of the Physical Mechanics building.")

And that just earned me another beating with the pillow.

Apparently, it's counter-productive to mention such things in this little bit of nowhere.

And just for mentioning the obvious in that last sentence, Mel decided I hadn't been injured enough and is currently and repeatedly pummeling me with that aforementioned pillow.

I mean, it's not like I set out to get lost in trying to find either of those two overpasses. It looked so easy to find them when we were on the outside of the buildings. They were right there! But nooooo...you get indoors and while you get to see a lot of neat mechanical shops, you can't find a single, bloody, well it has to be here somewhere as it's not trying to sneak away from us! walkway. Not to mention there was also a blatantly obvious staircase that could have led us right into both walkways, but I somehow failed to find that too.

Apparently there's a piece of metallic something-or-other inside or near each person's nasal cavity, and that helps give us some sense and semblance of direction. I'm strongly beginning to suspect that my metallic something-or-other was switched with styrofoam. Or else the material those super bouncy balls are made from.

Stupid overpasses...why is it that all the inanimate objects can get the better of me?!

Today's Lesson: mentioning or even inferring to your wife's libido online can be hazardous to your health.

(Ow...there goes the pillow again.)


posted by Phillip at 6:47 PM

 
What's A Blog Like You Doing On A Page Like This?
(or, "Where the hell have you been, you lazy bastard?")

And in response to that last remark any of you out there may pose to me, my answer is that I can only divide my time outside of work in so many ways. I mean, a regimen must be maintained! There's the sleeping, and there's the eating/washing of dishes, and then there's the walking of the dog, and then there's all the sex, sex, sex. I mean, my goodness, she's bloody insaciable! I'm not a machine, so why must you torment me so! A man can only last so long!

To quote Mick from Gunsmith Cats: "I don't...believe it...twenty frigging times!"

Now then, I'm sure those of you who dared to ask where the hell I've been are now regretting they had and are vowing to never ask such a thing of me again. (In other words: success!) The only downside, and there is a significant one, is that Mel will no doubt deliver grave, physically-debilitating injuries involving the hand mixer, and one or more of my bodily orifices.

Unless she's not quite done with me yet. In which case I may just last another week.

But enough about unnecessary mental images! Let's shift gears and hope that the gearbox doesn't stick in the process. It's time the focus be on what really matters this time of year: capitalism. Yes indeed, the season of Commercialmas (or alternately, $-mas for short) is upon us, and it's time to celebrate by slapping hokey Santa ads on every item you can see.

Some of you are well-versed with my inherent distate for the commercialism of Christmas, and many no doubt share my views, though as far as I know I'm one of the most caustic and acerbic people regarding it. Now I'm not about to go on with some half-assed thesis on how the sacredness of the December month has been reduced to whatever Bite-Me-Elmo doll they've come out with this time. That's too petty.

I'm not as much petty as I am wanting to give my pettiness a panache that sets it apart from all the other seasonal whinings. Besides, considering how the sacredness of Commercialmas was originally found in the pagan Winter Solstice festivals, I can't exactly argue we need to take back the religious aspect without snickering.

Anyhoo, I'm becoming accustomed to Commercialmas' rampant, unchecked marketing ploys. However, what I have quickly discovered is how easily I have come to deplore the incessant Commercialmas carols being played over the mall's PA system. It started a week ago, and hasn't stopped. All-Christmas-all-the-time. At the very least they're playing remixes and varying renditions of old tunes to ensure myself and other mall employees don't spiral into homicidal twitches right away. But I really am believing that come December 12th, give or take a day, I will more than likely clock across the head with our kiosk's Perfect Pancake Maker the first person who hums "Jingle Bells" in front of me.

When and if that does happen, I'll be sure to send you all the newspaper clippings regarding the incident.

Speaking of potential incidents that will validate my high school graduating class' voting of me as "Most Likely To Be Seen On The News One Day", my staffers and I have come up with a new way to ensure that we sell more products. It goes something along the following lines:

Me: "Hello, Sir. Did you want to purchase that wallet you're looking at?"

Customer: "No, I was just browsing, thanks."

[I immediately slap him across the face.]

Me: "As I was saying, did you want to purchase that wallet you were looking at?"

Now granted, the Taste-Of-The-Backside-Of-My-Hand policy needs some ironing out, but I'm sure that with a little lobbying and effort, we can have this implemented soon as a part of our company's official store policy. I think it'll work wonders for our customer service! It's a complete "I win" situation, what's not to like?

Today's Lesson: it is a bad idea to chug down a large mug of chocolate milkshake shortly after having eaten a mint.


posted by Phillip at 5:14 PM