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!

 
"That was Ali BaBanwah and the Punjabi Band..."

Have you ever wanted to sing karaoke to Bollywood's Greatest Hits? Have you ever wanted to hear someone sing karaoke to Bollywood's Greatest Hits? Well, if you were in our apartment right now, that's exactly what you'd be hearing from the next door neighbours. It's Karaoke Saturdays, and enthusiastic words I can't even pronounce let alone spell (though I'm sure most of those words have at least 4-5 syllables) are sounding through the walls.

You'd think that after suffering the incessant prattling of Commercialmas carols all day long at work, hearing this somewhat muted karaokefest would drive me to foaming at the mouth. But oddly enough I'm quite enjoying it. The karaoke music is a welcomed change from season's greetings I'd as soon shove in someone's ear. It's not loud, the songs actually change, and it's curiously effective at enchancing the quiet, relaxed mood I'm in.

In short, I like these neighbours. I think more people should have neighbours like these. May their Karaoke Saturdays be forever blessed.

In other news, Mel and I have the most unique and wonderful relationships. Take this actual conversation we shared a few days ago as we left the mall together...

Me: "Mel, I can't sing with you fondling my crotch like that."

Mel: "That's the point."

Indeed, my wife and saucy wench is like no other. Who else can say to me with a perfectly straight face and menacing voice: "If you pull your groin muscles [by falling on the ice], I'm going to kill you"?

Today's Lesson: there is a time and place for everything. Whispering naughty bits into your wife's ear while standing in a crowded line at Walmart is probably not a good time or place for that.


posted by Phillip at 3:23 PM

 
Elucidean Rage

50 boxes of merchandise sent in from the Head Office.
1 small kiosk.
0 places for anything to sit, let alone walk.

I've never been good with math to begin with, and I believer earlier on in this little bit of nowhere I ranted about the restraining order Calculus and I filed against each other at the end of high school. I'm not ashamed to say that math is been victorious over me in a war of wills; I may be strong, but I have not the stamina to figure out what the inverse cosine of (dx) over (dy) is. You'd be lucky if I dared venture an answer like, "Tuesday?"

Subsequently, it would appear that the Head Office is following mathematical logic of another kind. To make a Lovecraftian reference, they probably checked out the specs for Ryleh and thought that our kiosks would conform nicely to the angles and dimensions. If only some sort of Old One would eat them.

Fifty boxes of merchandise (almost all of which are photo albums) cannot simply be stored out in the mall corridor. We tried. The fire marshall begged to disagree with us. The Customer Appreciation Pancake Maker begged to disagree with him. The first officers arriving on the scene begged to disagree with the pancake maker. And in the end I somehow evaded getting charged with anything.

So the result was that 50 boxes of merchandise (mostly photo albums) sat inside the kiosk, which doesn't have a lot of walking room in it to begin with. The boxes were at least stacked about chest-to-shoulder height on top of each other in a long, single row running the length of the kiosk's interior. So at least there was some form of narrow walking space. It still didn't stop one's chest getting crushed between boxes and the cash drawer whenever you made a transaction on the till.

Though I am considering patenting the concept as part of a slim-fast diet, or ab-cruncher exercise machine.

But at least we were able to start receiving all those pesky boxes, and put the merchandise either on display outside the kiosk, or store it amidst the understock inside the kiosk, yes? Well...that would have truly been a smashingly good idea...had the long row of boxes not been blocking access to most of the cupboards we could have used to store the box's contents in.

Not to mention that while roughly 150 odd photo albums are sitting in some, way, shape or form at our kiosk, the kiosk can only hold 70 comfortably at best. All empty space underneath the kiosk has been pretty much used up to store extra albums. We've been resorting to clearing as much space on the kiosk counter behind the displayed items at the front end as possible to make more room.

I left when only 1/3rd of the boxes had been opened, and 9/10ths of available storage were already used up. I'll have to visit the kiosk again tonight to help close it down--the disadvantage of being short-staffed due to college final exams being on, having part-timers who are college students taking said finals, and me being the top banana of the kiosk and having to actually assume some degree of responsibility.

I am going to be quite...irritable if Head Office sends us another 50 boxes of photo albums tomorrow. And my wife is suddenly Puu-ing behind me.

There she goes again: "Puu! Puu!"

So it's perhaps best that I stop ranting, and distract her from channeling the spirit of Mokona any further.

"Puu!"

Too late.

Today's Lesson: Cthulhu was right by eating them all first and not even bothering to sort any of 'em out, period.


posted by Phillip at 6:06 PM

 
Crack Santa!

Today's been full of firsts.

Now I'm sure by now everyone knows how much I am coming to cheerfully and downright despise Christmas music, after having to suffer a constant chanting of it over the mall PA system for the last month and a half at 8-hour intervals a day.

Well, fate has never been one to lack a sense of humour, or be ever so helpful in rubbing a little salt into one's wound/evolving psychosis. this morning there was the radio on the car ride to work, where the D.J. happily told me that since they were going to be gone after Christmas, I should be requesting and enjoying as many Christmas classic songs as possible. I promptly flipped the radio (and the D.J. on the other side of it) the bird. This is the first time I have ever given the one-finger salute to a voice that doesn't even know me.

And then there was the visit after work to the grocery store to stock up on food. As we passed down the cereal aisle, I spotted a festive cover on a box of Cornflakes. It featured this Norman Rockwellian Santa Clause face wearing a happy Ho-Ho-Ho smile. However, the expression coupled with his open mouth made it appear as if Santa had taken a little too much crack, and was laughing maniacally at me through the box. (Probably because he was delighting in thinking I'd never find the free toy inside, because there was no free toy inside that particular box)

That, or else it was a blow-up Santa doll leering at me. I swear, his mouth had that disturbingly "round" quality about it. I was certainly unnerved by it. That sort of face seems better suited for a box of Porn-Oh's! rather than Cornflakes. (In a similar vein, please don't think about the type of "milk" you'd find with a bowl of that...)

I advise anyone out there to check it out and determine for themselves whether or not this festive Cornflakes box cover is of Crack Santa or Blow-Up Santa. In the meantime, I'm sticking with the much safer and blase Special K boxes. And I'm also waiting to see if someone else thinks that it's a Blow-Up Santa on the box, and protests or sues the Kelloggs Corporation.

Quote of the Day: "You're a sexual pervert, you'll never get reincarnated!" (from a badly-dubbed Hong Kong ganster movie)


posted by Phillip at 6:45 PM

 
Curiouser and Curiouser

It's been a strange day all around. The sort of strange day that makes you half expect to see actual Puchuu bears running about the hallways of your apartment complex. Either that, or the day ending where you watch Batman & Robin or Battlefield Earth and start to think, "Hey, that movie wasn't so bad after all!"

Mel has also just informed me that should a Puchuu infestation be found in our apartment, we're moving.

Anyhoo, the day started out with my alarm clock going off at 10am. This wouldn't have been a problem...but the night before I had set it for 9am. It wasn't even a digital clock either; the alarm hand was still pointing at the big "9" when it was distinctly ten in the morning.

Then the water in the apartment was out. This wasn't really surprising, since the supers had warned us of it the night before, saying that a few water valves had to be replaced, and could we pretty please refrain from speaking to them in words that really shouldn't be repeated in front of small children. They hoped (and I stress, hoped) to have the water on by 9am.

Six and a half hours later...the water was finally back on.

This proved rather problematic for me, since I had to be at work for noon and could not exactly shower. So taking some bottled tapwater we had stored in the fridge the night before, I doused my hair and gelled it up. I still haven't showered yet. I don't think my scent's reached the skunk-funk levels yet...though the skunk never does smell its own scent.

Added to this is that Shady, our beloved Shih-tzu does something auspiciously not Shady, and craps all over the rug. Sure, she has to do this on the rug, the one thing on the floor that needs to be washed, since the rest of the floor is vinyl tiles. Not to mention the night before, she must have dropped 3 pounds worth of the stuff in the snow while I was walking her at night.

But at least I wasn't the one to discover the evidence. Mel was. More specifically, her foot. At the risk of stating the obvious, she wasn't exactly thrilled. Especially since there was no water in the apartment aside from what we had bottled to wash the sole of her foot with.

Then I arrive at work, and discover as I pass some television sets at the Rogers store that Saddam Hussein has been captured. In all honesty, I half expected the U.S. to find him hiding out in Disneyland inside the It's A Small World ride, where he was ethnically cleansing those dancing puppets on one of the continents.

The remainder of the evening has more or less been quiet, a mere echo of what strangeness slid in from underneath our front door this morning. I have yet to encounter a white rabbit with a pocketwatch scurrying about, but if I do, I'll share with you all a wonderful recipe for hassenfeffer.

Today's Lesson: look first, then step on the rug.


posted by Phillip at 8:30 PM