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!

 
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