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!

 
Putting The "S" Back Into Words That Never Had It!

As of late, I've been seeing ads for a specific brand of shoes: Sketchers. There's quite a number of them in the mall at the moment. You might have seen them yourself already, in either the male or female version, where the guy or girl in question is amidst this colourful montage of scenes where they are a spy/superhero/blatant rip-off of James Bond and Kill Bill. From your evil mad scientist being protected by Japanese high school girls with swords to the guy romancing some tango dancer in his hotel room, no contrivance has been left uncopied.

My distate for this copycatting aside, what really has my eyebrow arching is the caption they have for the shoes their featured action models are wearing. Now I'm pretty sure something is off here. My keep and sharply-honed intuition is telling me that some miniscule thing is awry. Perhaps you can help. Here's the caption:

Sketchers Shoes. We put the "S" back in action.

Now I'm no expert at spelling, but last I checked 'action' did not include the letter 's'. Unless they're referring the actual phonetic way of sounding it out: ak-shun. Or perhaps there's a global conspiracy (courtesy of the Evidence Mice, of course) to eliminate the letter 's' from the English language.

Either way, it's still a silly ad and someone should be fired for having thought it a good idea. But that's just me ranting, and probably more than a little vindictive at the moment.

And speaking of the Evidence Mice, here's another update/coded message of warning cleverly disguised as spam!

bottle of beer behind is magnificent.Unlike so many taxidermists who have made their revered boy to us.Indeed, espadrille beyond go deep sea fishing with plaintiff of satellite.But they need to remember how often traffic light for curse wakes up.He called her Ferdinand (or was it Ferdinand?). lavender phoebe expectorant optimistic scant anglophobia janitor congestion

Yes, it appears the Evidence Mice are beginning to take a more open assault against humanity in their bid for world domination! The first line alone should chill the blood of any good Canadian (or beer drinker). 'Bottle of beer behind is magnificent'? That can mean only one thing: the Evidence Mice are planning to subdue us by either destroying our beer supply or else holding it for ransom. In light of the Canadian beer company, Molson's, just having been bought out and merged with The Coors Company, this is serious. It's possible that the Evidence Mice will slowly water down good, decent beer, and this is their first step towards achieving their diabolical goal!

If we examine the next line, we can see that I am not alone in my struggle against the Evidence Mice. Taxidermists the world over are joining forces to save our beer. And the 'revered boy' spoken of alludes to the leader of this rebellion.

I'm not entirely sure what deep-sea fishing has to do with satellites, but it might be that seafood is being targetted next. My sashimi supply might dry up. I fear.

And after that, they're going to curse all the traffic lights in the world to create massive gridlock in all the major cities! Not that anyone in Toronto will really notice; it's always gridlock. And then after that, they're going to target one of my favourite Anime fansub pimps! Ferd, if you're reading this, you may want to start stockpiling weapons and discs. And if you get captured...can I call dibs on your Anime collection?

And then there's this lavender phoebe expectorant optimistic scant anglophobia janitor congestion thing, which probably means that janitors are suddenly going to come down with colds. Fiendish, oh yes, it certainly is...

Today's Lesson: there is no "S" in action.


posted by Phillip at 11:34 AM

 
Customer Servicing

The past week has been gruelling, for obvious reasons mentioned in prior bits of nowhere. Especially so givne how last night was a mini-inventory for our store and I got to spend 3 extra hours after my 8-hour shift ended counting wallets. Lots of wallets. Lots and lots of wallets. God, do I hate wallets now.

And today's incident just capped it all off. So there I am in the store, at the counter, busy getting the week-end paperwork prepped for Monday. A large gentleman comes up to the counter. And by large, I mean significantly rotund with added girth, or as I'm sure is more politically correct to say "very, very well-nourished." I smiled and greeted him.

This Very Well-Nourished Man smiles back and remarks, "I'm doing fine, thanks. Say, I've got a problem. Do you think you can help me?"

At this point, I thought he was maybe looking for wallets or luggage. "Sure," I said. "I can try."

Whereupon the man thrusts his girth towards me and lifts up his shirt to openly display a very hairy and very flabby stomach. That sort of thing no man or woman should ever have to be subjected to at so close a range. But there I was, staring in horror at this hairy, flabby gut staring point-blank back at me, desperately trying not to gawk or avert my eyes. And as I'm looking, my eyes wide in momentary panic, all I can think of is, "Good God, Sir, I don't think I can help you with that!"

It may sound cruel, I know, but place yourself that close to his gut and try to understand my situation.

My panic didn't abate when he proceeded to grab his gut with both hands and hoist it up. Happily, it did drain away when, somewhere beneath his added circumference, he revealed a dying fanny pack. A replacement fanny pack, now that I can help with! However, it would have admittedly been easier if he'd just told instead of shown. There are just some things I personally feel you should keep to yourself.

If Mel were reading this over my shoulder, she'd no doubt add, "But obviously you feel you can blab about our sex life to everyone we know!" Well, not everyone. My parents don't read this little bit of nowhere after all. Which is no doubt a very good thing.

Today's Lesson: orthokeratology is "a non-surgical process which flattens/reshapes the cornea of the eye using contact lenses." Which basically means a contact lense expert is an orthokeratologist. Why am I telling you this? Well, sometimes the signs you see at convention centres just pique your curiosity.


posted by Phillip at 3:36 PM

 
Eau d'Poissons, Penguin Dartboards, and Guess This Man's Stomach Contents!

If it is one thing I've learned from Shady (and her 3 siblings), it's that dogs love to roll around in the grass. For some reason they enjoy getting the smell of dirt and grass all over themselves. I know there's a legitimate found-in-nature reason behind this, but my memories of last week's episode on the Discovery Channel are a little fuzzy.

Anyhoo, I can appreciate it when Shady decides that a good roll & romp in the grass is called for. I really can. My appreciation starts to plummet when I saunter over to the grass she's just rolled all over, and discover that she'd in fact rolled all over a fish. Not a scrap of fish or something from the seafood counter at the local grocery store, no, this was an entire fish: tail, gills, eyeballs, mouth, fins and scales. I'm not entirely sure how long it had been there, but it had yet to show any real signs of decomposition.

Shady seemed to think there was no problem with her having just saturated herself with the smell of fish. Dead fish, at that. I'm not even sure what sort of a fish it was, aside from it being small, flat and silver in colour. And so Shady spent part of the day smelling like fish. Ultimately, I had two words to say to her: bath time! She was not impressed. Then again, had it been alive, I doubt the fish would have enjoyed the experience either.

But let's digress, as opposed to digest, since all this talk of dead fish lying on the front lawn for no good reason has robbed me of my appetite. Onwards, to Bogata, Columbia, where someone else had a really...strange midnight craving. Maybe he was pregnant, I don't know.

BOGOTA, Colombia - A suspect swallowed nearly $50,000 in cash in a failed attempt to smuggle the funds out of Colombia, officials said Monday.

Bogota airport police said they X-rayed the suspect because he was acting nervous while preparing to board a flight for Lima, Peru.

The photo showed dozens of latex-wrapped packets inside his stomach and police assumed it was drugs, since such a smuggling technique is used by traffickers.

But as the suspect passed the packages from his body, police discovered they were filled with cash — $47,500.

“We find drugs inside the stomachs of smugglers all the time, but this is the first time we’ve ever found dollars,” the head of Bogota’s airport police, Col. Jorge Luis Vargas, told The Associated Press.

Passengers leaving Colombia can carry up to $10,000 in cash without having to declare it. Police say new anti-money laundering laws have made it more difficult for drug traffickers to send and receive cash, forcing them to adopt the same methods used to smuggle drugs.

Vargas said interrogations of the suspect indicated the money was probably going to be used to pay for a drug shipment.

And as for playing Penguin darts:

http://www.coolegames.com/spelletjes/577-Hit%20the%20pinguin%20(HOT!).html


Today's Lesson: deli-cut pastrami meat will inevitably take over any other smells you might have in your refridgerator. So if you don't mind opening up your fridge and getting your olefactory senses blasted with the scent of pastrami, I highly recommend it.



posted by Phillip at 8:20 AM

 
A Collapse of Conscience

The call came in late last night. My parents are separating, mostly at my mother's behest. I still don't know what to think about it.

Sometimes life doesn't have a punchline.

posted by Phillip at 5:48 PM

 
When The Rubber Hits The Rude

It never ceases to amaze and bemuse me how you can go up to a cashier at a grocery or convenience store, and more often than not, the clerk behind the till gives you this funny look because you've included a box of condums in your purchases. Why is that?

Admittedly, with this latest funny look I've been given, I smiled at the young man and said, "Yeah, I'm getting laid tonight. And you?"

Oh well, I suppose it's better than me smiling at the cashier and saying, "She has syphilus, so better safe than sorry."

Today's Disclaimer: that last remark in no way implies that Mel has any such ailment. The Canadiam Immigration's medical services can verify that. We are both happy to say that Mel-chan is syphilus-free!


posted by Phillip at 4:45 PM

 
Luckily, I Had My Handy Spam Decoder Ring With Me!

It's amazing! it's astounding! It's...some other impressive adjective starting with the letter 'a'! After a prolonged absence (which the P.R. branch is attributing to an inherent lack of white meat), this little bit of nowhere returns for its second appearance in a day. Primarily because there's a lot of silly, nonsensical spam sitting in my Inbox that I need to translate soon or else it'll clog everything up.

Spam can do that, you know. And according to one piece of spam, it can also knit wool sweaters and give me firmer nipples. But I'm satisfied with the current condition of my nipples, thank you very much, so let's move on.

Now while a lot of this might resemble a Dadaist play going horribly awry 9and given Dadaism, that says something), when I put this spam through my translator, a very ominous message appeared. The original document reads as such:

When plaintiff related to trembles, mirror of tripod meditates.blood clot inside, pine cone about stovepipe, and support group over are what made America great!When you see globule for scooby snack, it means that hockey player over cream puff self-flagellates. actinometer cautious exam hoff execrable capita

As far as I can tell, when camera tripods look at their reflections in court, the prosecuters will tremble. Or else get a raging case of diahrea. This can only mean one thing: the sinister Evidence Mice are once again prowling about the globe with their nefarious schemes. And their plot involves destroying the country's judicial system...or what tattered, mostly-impotent remains of it are left.

How do they plan on achieving victory? Apparently it involves a device where you manage to find a pine cone with a blood clot and stuff it into a stovepipe. The result is a globule that they're going to claim is a Scooby Snack, and sell it to children and support groups to eat. Obviously, since support groups are what makes America great, they will have to be one of the first bastions to be knocked down if the Evidence Mice are to have their way.

Yet ultimately their final target is shown here: it means that hockey player over cream puff self-flagellates. The Evidence Mice are now declaring war on Canada as well, as they mean to sell these pinecone-clotted globules, or "Scooby Snacks" to hockey players. After they've consumed these nefarious vittles, all the hockey players around the country will start thinking they're creampuffs and begin smacking themselves to see if they really are stuffed with white filling.

But the dastardly deeds of the Evidence Mice doesn't stop there, oh no. Consider a separate spam/warning I received a few days later that further explains the dark, dark details of their plot, entitled: spider tea parties inside 9.

(Now the Evidence Mice have allied with spiders and are hosting tea parties in rooms or apartments with the number 9 on them. We can't even trust the spiders any longer! Not that Mel would advocate we could trust spiders in the first place...I guess I owe her five bucks after all.)

The message reads as follows:

Any hockey player can reach an understanding with inside steam engine, but it takes a real omphalos to stalactite beyond onlooker.Furthermore, fruit cake for leaves, and hydrogen atom over tripod trade baseball cards with turn signal related to grand piano.impresario operate a small fruit stand with bonbon around light bulb.
clamp prolongate crandall bison visitation demigod fray oncology

See? Once more we are presented with hockey players, who have all been reduced to self-flagellating creampuffs. It would appear that after the creampuff stage, the world's hockey players can gain greater knowlege of steam engines and other such working components, a knowledge that goes beyond what any regular person could possess.

What does this mean? I think the answer is as perfectly obvious as the mole not on my face: the Evidence Mice are planning to use steampunk technology to take over the world, and they're going to brainwash hockey players to be their hired grunts. Kind of like Rent-A-Viking.

And not only that, this message is carefully explaining that the steampunk technology being harnessed needs only the following to achieve some form of fusion: a fruit cake, hydrogen atoms (being circled by fruitcakes), camera tripods (see how they resurface again), baseball cards. The engine itself is a modified grand piano with turn signals mounted on it. The turn signals are the surest sign this is the major engine component needed to created an endless power source that will put the world at the mercy of the Evidence Mice.

I'm not entirely sure what an Impresario running a fruit & bonbon stand has to do with anything, but this might be an alternative to the "Scooby Snack" scheme. But ultimately, we can see the final results with this line: clamp prolongate crandall bison visitation demigod fray oncology.

This will take the Evidence Mice one step closer to becoming bison demigods with degrees in oncology. I'm not sure what this means, but I'm sure it will make me very uncomfortable the next time I have to go for my medical check-up.

For now, all I can do is monitor incoming spam to see if any more hidden messages are being sent to further alert me to the conspiracies of the Evidence Mice. As always, in case the Evidence Mice should find out about me, if you should not hear from this little bit of nowhere in a few days...wait longer. I'm sure I'll escape their clutches. Or else find a computer with Net capabilities somwhere in the dungeon.

Today's Lesson: humidity is something better discussed than felt.


posted by Phillip at 3:01 PM

 
Alchemist Cowards!

At least that's what the latest batch of almost-completely-nonsensical spam is telling me. I'm not sure why alchemists are such an easily frightened lot, but if the spam is to be believed, it's for the following reasons:

And prefer the dark side of her power drill.Lenore, although somewhat soothed by of impresario and tripod for.Unlike so many ribbons who have made their twisted football team to us.recliner assimilate freight train behind widow. disciplinary australia proust nearest contrariety

Now, I'm not expert on translations, but I think it all has to do with these alchemists getting sodomized by Lenore's power drill. Or maybe with the twisted football team that dresses itself up in ribbons. And I'm pretty certain that this mysterious Lenore is the widow who's planning on merging a recliner chair with a freight train to create some thoroughly unwholesome doomsday device and unleash it upon Australia.

But that could just be me.

In other news, yeah, things have been rather busy. Again. Life seems to enjoy doing that, although yesterday proved to be a wonderfully peaceful day off which saw Mel sending me across an entire university parking lot to fetch some wayward helium balloon she wanted.

Mel: "Balloon!"

Me: "Yes, it is. And it looks like it's losing air, given how its descending towards the ground."

Mel: "Poor little balloon. Get it for me?"

Me: "The balloon? Mel, it's touching down on the far side of the parking lot! I'd have to run the entire way just to catch it."

Mel: "Pleeeeaaaase?"

Whereupon she gave me the lethal combination of Bambi eyes and that look. All you gents out there should know what I mean by that look. So naturally when face to face with that look, I sighed and fetched Mel the balloon. And there was much rejoicing.

Today's Lesson: anytime before 10am is an ungodly hour to have to get up.

posted by Phillip at 6:10 AM

 
It's A Hard-Knocked Something-Or-Other...

I've just been waxing nostalgic so much that I could shine a kitchen floor better than Mr. Clean could ever hope to. It's with a great amount of amazement and consternation that I sit here, reflecting on the fact that since a week ago, I've been to the apartment only to sleep and spend a few extra hours vegetating. The rest has been spent elsewhere: at work, with friends, doing errands, and other such keeps-me-away stuff.

The long and the short of it is: I haven't had the chance to really stop and catch my breath for a week now. Hang on...make that two weeks, when you think about it. And it's growing into quite the exhausting effort. My poor laptop lies neglected and will probably make me buy it dinner before it lets me write again. The unwashed dishes are probably self-aware now, and anything in the kitchen that becomes self-aware will always try to take over the world...starting with me (I hate competition).

I cannot help but reflect on a time, dating back not even five years ago, where I would have scoffed at something like this. I'd have not only pulled off all this running around at the time, but I also would have easily managed to get enough time for writing. And I'm sure I would have slept eventually.

I'm not sure what it is. Maybe it's because I'm on my feet all day, working in a retail job that has effectively destroyed any internal sense of a Monday through Friday, 9-5 calendar. Maybe it's because the time I once had solely to myself now must be shared with Mel and Shady. Or maybe it is in fact that, as Mel always delights in pointing out to me, I'm old.

No, it couldn't be that.

I blame the customers. Nasty, pompous tits that they are... And while we're on the hit parade, it's time for Today's Curses:

Curse you, Walmart! And while I could make all sorts of corporate, political and ethical statements here, I'm going to immerse myself in pointless narcissism. Why do you suddenly reduce the DVD for Jim Henson's "The Storyteller" to $11, after I've spent a good $30 on it? And furthermore, why do you have volumes 2&3 of RahXephon on DVD for $9 each, and not volume 1? Why? Such cold heartlessness. Truly you delight in your sadistic torments of my fragile little psyche. From hell's heart, I throw a hissyfit at thee!

And while we're at it, curse you, HMV! You suddenly release the Japanese movie "Battle Royale" on DVD at a time when I have no money for it. I hiss at thee! (Since I'll be saving up the money for it soon enough, this deserves only a petty hissing as opposed to a petty hissy-fit.)

And while we're still at it, curse you...uh...somebody! I curse you because of something for some reason! Yes, that's it exactly! Feel my textual wrath of cursiness! You've irked me so much that not only have I been forced to use such a silly-sounding word as "irk", but I've had to make up new words like "cursiness" just to describe my level of wrath and ire.

(Dammit, of all the times to feel the Prozac kicking in...)
posted by Phillip at 7:28 PM

 
24-Hour Party People

As I sit here in the growing stagnation that is the humid Kitchener air, I cannot help but marvel at how much of last night I can remember. From what I do recall, things started to get fuzzy after that half a beer, which was preceded by a rum & Coke, a rye & Coke, and six shooters.

I recall sucking beer foam out from the neck of the beer bottle with a straw. I likewise recall being told not to suck up the excess beer off the table with my straw, since I really didn't know where that table had been.

And there are some vague recollections of nearly knocking myself out as I danced with/molested a dance pole, and wanting to steal a friend's really cool Indiana Jones fedora--it really was cool, and everyone was disturbed by how good I looked in it and how I bore an odd resemblance to Harrison Ford as Indy.

There was also the fact that Mel cut my drinks off after that last shooter, and had us leave early (and by early, I mean early in the morning, about 1am) so she could take full sexual advantage of me in my inebriated state.

It's amazing how cognizent I am while drunk. Although I am also more incoherent than usual, which unto itself is a frightening concept. (See, cognizent means I recognized the fact that I was growing more incoherent. And thus ends drinking lesson #1 for the day.)

So just what inspired this trip down to a club located near the University of Waterloo, called (of all possible things) Phil's. Well, unexpectedly my sister and her fiance showed up in town. They were visiting a number of friends and hoping that we could hang out with them at Phil's in the evening. So after I got off work, Mel & I headed over...and you already know mostly what transpired over the course of the next few hours.

And after a year of having my Age of Majority ID card, I finally got to use it. What a concept! Should I be bewildered that this remains the only place I've ever actually been asked to show ID, despite the countless trips I've made to R-Rated movies and LCBO stores.

This event marks not only the first time I've been quite impressively sauced (though I think I was only two out of a four potential sheets to the wind), but also the second of a parade of parties occurring one day after the next. This past Thursday, Canada Day was celebrated watching fireworks on the beach with Gary, Em & Jason. Lots of festiveness was had.

Then Friday morning Mel, Shady & I left Toronto. I got dropped off at work for the afternoon/evening shift, only to head right out afterwards to Phil's. I didn't see much of the apartment at all yesterday.

Today there's going to be even more celebrating with friends as a bunch of us get together to perform high acts of geekery. Provided 'geekery' is even a word. If not, I stand supreme as it's creator! Ah, the English language is such a wonderful thing to manipulate accordingly to my whims.

But I digress.

What sort of geekery, you might ask? Well, it's a "CSI Night." A co-worker just bought the CSI boardgame (which looks like a more complicated version of Clue), so we will be drinking and playing the game. I'll also be bringing along the 3 seasons of CSI I have. I rejoice in my DVD box sets! I've already made the shortlist of the screwiest episodes to break people with...ha ha.

And then Sunday, celebrating will be had with friends amidst partying and going to watch Spiderman 2.

Life is good. Drinking and partying with great friends & family is even better. The hangover, however, I can do without. I suppose this is the thorn to the rose that is carousing with friends. (Is this where I get the naughty finger-wagging of sobriety and justice waggled at me again?)

Today's Lesson: John Lennon was right when he said, "Life is what happens when you're making other plans." That doesn't necessarily mean that what happens is altogether unwelcomed. Sometimes even the little bits of nowhere you were planning on sharing will have to inevitably be bumped aside as other unexpected things pop up.

Today's "State the Obvious" Moment: when you are driving down the Danforth in Toronto, through Greektown, and suddenly your car finds itself being charged by large stampeding hordes of fans secreaming, cheering and waving Greek flags, do you think that the Greek World Cup soccer team just scored a goal?

The "Go Out And Buy His CD, Dammit!" Plug of the Day: robdougan.com You'll even recognize some of the tunes as having been used in all the Matrix movies and trailers.

Today's Death Clock Notice: according to the Death Clock (www.deathclock.com), which foretells my death as being Monday, Octover 16th, 2062, I have (as of typing this) 1,839,227,385 seconds left to live.

1,839,227,384...
1,839,227,383...

This could take a while.

posted by Phillip at 12:03 PM

 
As Seen On Spam

It's always interesting to check out my junk box, and find an Email frantically proclaiming to me: bewilderment. 'A mad German Admittedly it sounds like a really bad title to a cheesy mecha-based Anime. Although the 'bewilderment' part does aptly describe my reaction when I saw it.

On Our Next Little Bit of Nowhere: gravity vs. popcorn, and cheese cracker dresses.


posted by Phillip at 7:55 AM