BREAKING NEWS: Chicago Not Destroyed By Crappy Storm

•October 26, 2010 • 4 Comments

There’s not a lot that gets me excited.  Hmmm, that’s a lie.  There is quite a lot that gets me excited, and one of the few thousand things happens to be a damn good storm.  So you can imagine my level of excitement yesterday when I read these headlines:

Storm To Be Among Worst in 70 Years


Great Lakes Cyclone To Strike Chicago Tuesday

I mean, I think you can picture the excited dance that I was doing after reading this, and then last night I was discussing this historic occasion with friends who also love storms – so much excitement!  Should I take the day off?  Should I sit in the middle of Lake Michigan to feel the full force?  Should I somehow chronicle this monumental event in American history???  So many questions, so many decisions.  So. Much. Storm!!!

And then this morning happened.

The sky was grey.  There was rain.  A little lightning.  Then the colour of the sky turned a little ‘odd’.

And now it’s sunny.

Really, Mother Nature?  THAT’S the worst storm in 70 years?  I was expecting to see at least one horseman of the apocalypse, possibly fighting a unicorn that was in the middle of her mime-killing spree… I was promised major destruction – I thought that Michael Bay could come back and film more Transformers amongst REAL debris of Chicago buildings, and there would be tidal waves, and tsunamis, and we’d have to run to the hills, of which there really aren’t any, and I was promised tornadoes ripping through the streets of downtown Chicago, hurling tourists into a vexation of zombies, and cows and Helen Hunts would be flying through office windows, old ladies in rocking chairs spinning around while doing their knitting, a coven of wicked witches on broomsticks, people rowing their boats in the air…  and munchkins!

I. Was. Promised. Munchkins.

But I didn’t get any of that.

Storm?  Storm???  I could fart a better storm than that.



•September 28, 2010 • 6 Comments

I was taking the pups for a walk earlier’ (and by “earlier”, I mean 4 days ago, but then I thought that would make me sound as though I’m just too lazy to blog about these things, which I am, but then I figured that “earlier” isn’t actually lying because it was earlier, and you might have noticed that I put an apostrophe after “earlier” because it’s short for “earlierthisweek”.  Although this doesn’t defend me from being too lazy to blog… unless I said I was just too busy to blog, but that would definitely be a lie, because if you know me, you’d know that I’m just lazy.  Too busy lollygagging, which I’m sorry, does not sound like its definition – it just sounds like a sex game.  Which is not what I’ve been too busy doing.  I’m just lazy)…  Let me start again.

I was taking the pups for a walk earlierthisweek (I do take them out more often than once every 4 days – just needed to get that clear before you set PETA on my arse), and as soon as we walked out of the door onto the street, a young Asian lady was walking my way with a small bumblebee.  Yes, a small bumblebee on a leash.  OK, so it was obviously a dog, but I couldn’t tell what type of dog it was because it was dressed up as a bumblebee.  I had approximately 4 seconds to make a decision about what to say when the inevitable meeting of the dogs/bumblebee would stop us in our tracks, and force the dog/bumblebee owner conversation that you always have to have.  Not usually with a bumblebee owner, but this was an exception to the rule.  Let’s face it though, I had a pretty good way to start off the conversation:

Eddie: Oh, what a nice bumblebee you have…

Crazy Lady: Hahaha – thanks.  This is actually her first Halloween.

Eddie: Oh.  But. . .

Does that actually count as a conversation?  You see, at that point, even Crossers was a little freaked out, and he pulled me away from the crazy lady and her bumblebee so we could continue our walk.  But then this set in some deep confusion in the strange space that is the Eddiemind.  First, I couldn’t figure out if I’d somehow missed the fact that Halloween was already upon us, and I’d missed my chance to ridicule my own pups by dressing them up as Fraggles/pot-roasts/dinosaurs as I had done in previous years.  Next, I had no idea what date it was, or what date Halloween was – they just kept switching in my mind.  It was about at this point that I looked across the street and saw another dog that also appeared to be wearing a costume.  What Was Happening???  It didn’t help that I’d had one or twelve drinks the night before, and a tiny part of Eddiemind wondered whether I might have slept for a month.  Then I noticed that dog number 2 didn’t actually have a costume on, but had a bunch of empty plastic bags tied to it.  Or maybe that was a costume – Bizarre Walking Poop Bag.   Or Shopping Cart Dog.  Probably just a lazy owner though.

So finally I figured out that it wasn’t Halloween, and that the lady walking her bumblebee was just batshit-crazy.  Or a time-traveller who had taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque.  Which is a little weird because I was just chatting to someone who’s a time-traveller.  Well, she said she was, but it’s just so hard to tell these days.  And I wasn’t really chatting, I was just commenting on her blog, but it’s kind of like chatting.  Just with massively delayed responses.  Probably while she was time travelling.

The upside of this story is that it made me think that I should really start considering how I could torture my own pups with a Halloween costume this year.  And also if it might actually be acceptable to force them to wear it for a few weeks either side of Halloween.  You know, just to mess with people who had a few beers the night before.

Or to mess with time-travellers.

A Major Prize! A Major Award!

•August 25, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Fra-gee-lay!  Must be Italian…

I had my own little Christmas Story moment when a huge box arrived for me yesterday – a prize!  A Major Prize!  First thing I thought was that it could be a leg lamp.  But this box wasn’t thick enough to have a lamp.  Maybe it was an official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model air rifle.  But that would mean I’d probably shoot my eye out.  Best bet was to open it and find out.

After tearing open the box with much enthusiasm from myself and Sir Crosserston, it revealed… another box.  This time with even more tape to keep me from finding out what it was.  So again, I attacked the next level of packaging to reveal… something wrapped in 8,923,116 sq ft of bubble wrap.

About 25 minutes later, and having popped about 11% of the bubbles, I decided it was time to break the law and just remove the bubble wrap and save it for later.  I know, I live life on the edge.  Tearing off the bubble wrap, and temporarily losing Sir Crosserston in a sea of bubbly plastic, the Major Prize! was finally revealed: a framed, signed movie poster of “The Kids Are All Right”.  Obviously I remembered entering the competition to win this.   Because I have such a great short-term memory.

So yes, I am now the proud owner, not of a delightful leg lamp, but of an indescribably beautiful movie poster that reminds me of the Fourth of July.  Or something.  I turned off all the lights to see what it looked like from the street, but then remembered that I couldn’t see my apartment from the street, so it was a silly thing to do on so many levels.

Now to figure out who I’m supposed to thank for it…

Meet Frank…

•August 20, 2010 • 2 Comments

He is my best friend/pet marmot. He has a bad attitude. But he does guide me through life; stops me from making bad life decisions. He is awesome.

Why, Oh Y, Oh Why?

•August 20, 2010 • Leave a Comment

My keyboard doesn’t have a ‘y’ key.

Just a gaping hole between ‘t’ and ‘u’.  The loss of ‘y’ was the fault of one of the puppies who decided it would be fun to jump on the keyboard.  This was well over a year ago.  I also don’t have an ‘F10’ key, but I don’t really miss that one too much – what does it even do?  I’m sure it has a fun function shortcut to something, but I don’t really care.  Back to the ‘y’ key.

When I first lost it, I could do the whole pressing the rubber thingy that sits below where the key used to be kind of thing, but eventually that stopped working too.  And I was left y-less.  Now those of you who know me or have read my blog, would know that I already have somewhat of an aversion towards the letter ‘y’ and maybe wondering why I even need one.  Well, when the ‘y’ isn’t being ‘lazie’, it is still a useful letter to have on the keyboard.  (And as a sidenote, I had to stop doing the ‘-ie’ replacements after I found them scattered across documents that I was writing at work.  My boss really didn’t want to hear my thoughts on the lazy ‘y’.)

So, I came up with a cunning plan: find a ‘y’ on a webpage, and utilize a little ‘copy and paste’.  So CTRL+V became my new ‘y’.  This worked for a while, but of course in our daily lives, we copy and paste all sorts of lovely links, and sections of documents, which in turn lose my ‘y’.  And most of the time I forget this.  So when I’m chatting online to someone, I look up to see that I have sent something like this:

“Do https://eddiefication.wordpress.comou want to see how funn it is when cop and paste goes horribl wrong while plahttps://eddiefication.wordpress.coming with the letter”

Now, this can be quite funny, and also quite embarrassing, depending on the last thing that I decided to copy.  Or I can end up pasting videos to people inside a Facebook message, that have nothing to do with the message I was sending.  I tend to leave them in there anyway – maybe the recipient will find it informative.  But it doesn’t end there.  There are times when I paste something other than a ‘y’, and I can’t quickly get to a ‘y’ to copy to replace it, so I start changing what it is I wanted to write, purely based on using words that don’t contain a ‘y’.  This has become my life.   

Next comes the most difficult part of the whole ‘y’-less lifestyle.  The uppercase ‘y’ – the… hang on a sec… the ‘Y’.  That guy is a bugger to find – he is rarely just sitting around on your average webpage, so you have to hunt.  Of course, this produced another cunning plan:  whenever I need a ‘Y’, I go to Yemen.  Not literally – I don’t actually pack my bags and fly to Yemen.  That would be incredibly odd.  No, I Google ‘yemen’, and it takes me nicely to a list of websites that are guaranteed to have an uppercase ‘Y’.  Perfect!  I mainly started off with Wikipedia, but recently I’ve been hitting more and more sites about Yemen.  And you get to learn a lot while doing this.  Did you know that 18% of their population live on under $1.25/day?  McDonald’s must be so inexpensive there!  And 95% of the species of snails that live on the Socotra Archipelago in Yemen, do not exist anywhere else in the world.  Snails!

So I know a lot about Yemen.  Actually, that’s a lie, I know very little.  Mainly I know about snails and inexpensive McDonalds.  And the McDonald’s thing may not even be true.  They may only have Burger King.  The biggest problem came when, just a few weeks back,  I remembered that Yemen is, of course, somewhat of a terrorist breeding ground.  And the CIA probably keeps tabs on who is talking about Yemen a lot on the interwebs.  And I have Googled Yemen at least 1000 times in the past year.  And clicked through links to find out more about the snails of Yemen, and other fun facts.  About terrorists.  So if I go on another 18-month hiatus, keep it in the back of your mind that I might, in fact, have been arrested.  Or I might have taken a vacation to visit the snails.

The Hidden Evil – Part 2

•August 18, 2010 • 2 Comments

Approximately 73 years ago, I posted a blog about socks, and their attempts of world domination.  My thoughts have not changed on this subject, but I did receive information today that they are not acting alone in this elaborate plan.

It seems that flies are also assisting with this plan to take over the world, and in a way that is so strange, and so gross that it makes it all the more disturbing that we don’t realize that it is going on in front of our very eyes.  The connection between the flies and socks is quite complex, but it does fill in some of the mossing gaps – the biggest being, ‘how do the socks eat during their master-plan to take over the world?’.  The answer – fly vomit.  This evening, a fly made a huge mistake by being witnessed vomiting on my arm, and the vomit was in fact strands of what appeared to be blue fluff.  Blue fluff-vomit to feed the socks.   How do they usually do this without us noticing?  Simple – while we sleep, they vomit into our belly-buttons.  We wake up, see strange blue fluff in our belly-button, never fully questioning why it’s always blue when we weren’t wearing anything blue, then we pick it out and toss it on the floor.  Do you ever see that belly-button fluff again?  Of course not, because it is eaten by our conniving socks.

I know what you’re thinking – it’s just so obvious now that it is spelled out in front of you.  And you’d be right – but a word of warning: there is probably more to it than just this feeding relationship: let’s face it, what’s in it for the flies?  While I put scientists hard at work to discover what else could be happening, do what I do and save all of your belly-button fluff in a plastic bag.  After a few years you’ll have quite a nice pillow stuffing.  And a lot of anorexic socks.

Guess Who’s Back…

•August 17, 2010 • 3 Comments

Jesus?  Elvis Presley?  Isaac Newton? . . . No.

Hmmm, although all of those would be a tad more interesting than the real answer, which is ME!  That’s right, after an 18-month hiatus, I’ve decided to resurrect this blog.  Much like Jesus.  Would Jesus blog if he came back?  I somehow doubt it – I think he’d be lost in this world, much like me.  I’m not trying to compare myself to Jesus.  Although I did go through the beard phase a few months back.

But I am back, and although I’ve moved to a new address,  and a new blog name,  it’s all pretty much the same thing as before.  Less personal stuff, less hockey, but much more randomness.  And fruit.  And angler fish.  And mosquitoes.  And chipmunks.

Not sure how frequently the posts will come early on, but I’ve kept a bunch of the old posts for your perusal in the meantime.

Now it’s time for bed – but I promise that it won’t be another 18-month nap this time.