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!

 


I've been meaning to step back up this little bit of nowhere all week. Really, I have. It's not that I haven't been irresponsible. It's not like I've being seeing other blogs behind its back. But true to form, corollaries to Murphy's Ineffable Law (or is it: Murphy's Effing Law?) have dogged me every time I planned to sit down and listen to the clickety-clackety sounds my fingers scuttling across the keyboard. Pleasantly enough though, most of these distractions have been welcomed and were planned in advance.

On his whirlwind trip through Ontario, my Dad paid a long-overdue visit (which Mel & I really must repay by paying him and my grandparents a long-overdue visit to Nova Scotia), and by some miracle of good fortune, I managed to procure two straight days off for the occasion. It's strange how the most we did was tour KW and show him how the city's changed...or in some cases, devolved...and we all seemed perfectly fine with it. Maybe that's the coolest part about family: the simple act of spending time together after prolongued absences feels like time well spent. (Granted, this all relies heavily on you not wanting to kill your family members after being around each other for only fifteen minutes.)

My Dad also regaled me with his brief visit to Toronto, where as he put it, "I saw this enormous crowd lined up to get autographs from Bouncy."

Mel: [???] "Bouncy...Bouncy...don't you mean Beyonce?"

My Dad: "Meh, sounds close enough."

^-^ You can see where I got my sense of humour from.

After we parted ways so he could continue on to Oshawa to visit our grandfather (and from there, travel to Ottawa to visit an old friend now dying of cancer), it was all about Gabezilla. Presents were given (and subsequently tested by Gabe for tastiness), cake was devoured, marshmallows were sacrified and good times were had by all. The rampaging toddler enterred the terrible two's last Wednesday...and I don't think any of us have noticed any changes...beyond Gabe deciding that an already 12 hour day for himself should be capped off by refusing to even remotely slow down until 3am.

I don't know what fuels Gabe's seemingly endless supply of energy, but if we could bottle it and sell it, we'd run Red Bull and Jolt right out of business. That, or else contract we him out to a demolition crew. Hey, he's got a hardhat now from one of his birthday presents, so it could work!

Beyond that, I've been playing around with a new word processing program that is exclusively designed for writing and formatting screenplays. (And yes, this is one of those sketchy "Don't ask how I acquired it" moments.) Working with a system like this is vastly different from anything else I've encountered before. It also didn't help that I had no user's manual to consult and pretty much had to experiment with each new feature as I went along.

To the best of my knowledge, this haphazard method of learning can be best likened to being blindfolded and then sent off to try whack a sleeping rhinocerous in the testicles with a stick. Sometimes my efforts were rewarded with some very impressive results. The rest of the time, I swear an invisible hand actually came out from the computer screen and bitch-slapped me for attempting to molest its functions.

So now I possess the ability to create authentic scripts. There's the odd chance this may filter into next year's Confic, but we'll have to see about that.

Now if you'll excuse me, there's a mug of mint-flavoured hot chocolate and an episode of RahXephon calling my name. (The latter of which I'll have to ignore and instead help work on an English paper Mel has to finish up before the night's out.)

Oh, and I should also ask: has anyone seen a solitary, black cotton sock? It appears one of mine decided to venture off into the great unknown somewhere between the rinse and spin cycles of our local washing machine. My pairs of socks are already becoming an endangered species as it is, and the disappearance of yet another sock could upset the delicate balance of nature. So if you do happen to stumble across a black sock who has lost its way and is trying to get back to the rest of my collection, please let me know.

Today's Lesson: winterwear is already out in stores. Deal with it. (I've already had to cry tears for the scarves now proliferating our bunks...)
posted by Phillip at 9:40 PM

 

You know, there are a lot of things you just never want to share with other people, or you don't want them to share with you: underwear, demon possessions, chocolate cookies or details about your sex life.

Let me explain...












Wow, if there's any quicker way to clear this little bit of nowhere, damned if I know what it is.

And yet, I am dismayed to confess that I am perhaps not quite the romantic, or at least above-average lover as I'd once believed myself to be. However, recent events have brought to light the fact that I may yet be required to "level up" as it were, or at the very least crack open one of those Nora Roberts books Mel is trying to get me to read and take a lesson or two from those pages.

Herein is pretty much a word for word conversation between Mel and myself regarding the issue in question:

It's about 10am-ish. I'm lounging in the living room, and Mel strolls in.

Mel: ^-^ "Morning!"

Me: "Hello. Sleep well?"

Mel: ^-^ "Yep! I guess I was really tired last night."

Me: "So I gathered."

Mel: [???] "What do you mean by that?"

Me: "Well, for starters...you fell asleep during the foreplay."


Now somewhere around here, Mel blushes profusely as she thinks back to the previous evening, and realizes there's an inherent lack of memories on her part.

Mel: o.O;; "I, uh, hope you're not offended."

Me: "Well, nothing says 'I love you' quite like that."

Mel: "I'm sorry?"

Me: -.-;;;;;;; [sulking] "You so owe me foreplay now."


And so in honour of my wondrous lack of ability to keep Mel awake, here's the reason you definitely don't want to be looking at this little bit of nowhere at your workstation:



posted by Phillip at 6:06 PM

 

The week after school starts is a lot like the week before school starts, only without hordes of customers invading your store, pillaging the stock and making a general mess of anything that even remotely looks clean. I really do think customers in general feel threatened by a tidy store, probably because it looks cleaner than their place, and they must reassert their dominance in society by destroying this threat. Or they just don't give a damn about flinging stuffing paper across the entire store as they messily dissect a display backpak.

Of course, it amuses me to no end in a slightly sadistic "jail is the only reason I haven't ripped your eyebrows off" way how, when we fetch an unstuffed backpak that was on the same rack right in behind the display one, customers will exclaim, "I didn't even see that!" This does garner some consternation from me, though, since I have to wonder what other sort of stores they shop at--wherein those stores have deliberately mixed up the display pieces and their racks of corresponding "non-display" stock.

Clearly I'm unenlightened and have been shopping at all the wrong places.

Then again, sometimes I'm pretty darned sure it's just the customers, not me. Take, for instance, an example from a few days ago. I've got an armload of backpaks for restocking our shelves (with them being neatly lined up in behind their corresponding display models, as we are of course an unenlightened store), and happen to chance upon a trio of preteen girls who have attempted to dress like sexy, vamped-up seventeen year-olds and failed spectacularly at it.

As these prepubescent teens stroll by, one remarks in a loud, caustic voice, "I'd shop at Bentley! They're pimpin'!" Given the subsequent look on her face as I strolled in behind them with an armload of backpaks, I don't think she realized a store employee was quite so close to hear the snark. But I smiled politely, and desperately wished I didn't work at the store, since the immediate retort that came to mind was, "Well, it's just as well, considering you're dressed like a slut."

One day, perhaps.

Which does make me wonder if, on my last day in retail when I've secured another job beyond a shadow of a doubt, all the venom and contempt for customer stupidity will loose itself on the unsuspecting gits. There have been debates in the past. Should I act flamboyantly fabulous? Should I wait for someone with a significant chip on their shoulder, and go at their psyche with a verbal icepick? Or will I zip myself into a suitcase and scare the bejezus out of any hapless child who passes by? Time may yet tell.

And if you still think you're feeling lucky today, Today's Asking Asshats comes to a grand total of: 4 (with one of them being heard over the phone while I checked in with another store about something.)
posted by Phillip at 4:39 PM

 


http://www.aintitcool.com/display.cgi?id=24380

The world has lost an Aussie who loved nature, wanted everyone else to have the same passion and respect for nature as he did, and was more than a little out of his mind in the coolest way possible.

Rest in peace, Steve Irwin.
posted by Phillip at 10:19 AM

 

Today was blood donor day. Fun was had. Needles were used. Blood was extracted. Cookies were devoured with wanton abandon. And it looked like I was having so much fun that Mel decided, what the hell, why not try it herself? Spontaneous blood donating is sure to become the new fad for dates. I'm sure of it.

I must confess though: it makes for a rather arduous task to try and donate blood when the donor clinics are usually held in the middle of a work shift in a mall that you don't work in. As a result, I haven't been able to donate blood as often as I'd like. Granted, I'm not in that prestigious AB "universal recipient" club, or that equally elitist O Negative "universal donor" club, but hey! O Positives are people too!

Besides, when you get right down to it, donating blood means good things. Namely Coke and cookies. Oh...and there's that whole "saving lives" thing too. But it's mostly about the cookies.

In other news, I finished reading the Ghost In The Shell 2 manga. And at the risk of sounding like an idiot, I have absolutely no idea what the hell happened in it. Lot of E-hacking and brain hijacking. Lot of philosophical and science and religious discussions. Definitely lots of not-so-subtly veiled fanservice. And I think all but the fanservice flew right over my head. Something tells me I'll have to read it again, or else act intellectually superior in an attempt to hide my "having no fscking clue" status if anyone asks what I thought of the manga.

I need to find myself some Shirow Coles notes...

And for those of you playing the home version of our game, Today's Asking Asshats totalled: 6. (I swear, I will be the happiest retail trencher alive once school starts again, and people may actually take the time to read a sign.)
posted by Phillip at 9:34 PM