Coffee Wreck

I was actually dressed rather half-nicely today in jeans and a dress shirt, but just as I was having my last sip of coffee, I managed to -once again- misjudge how much liquid was in the mug. I do this far too often for it to be a mistake, and I’m beginning to wonder if my coffee mugs have it out for me. First it was the appliances, now I’m looking sideways at the pottery. I’ve been doing this my whole life – what I assume to be the ‘last sip’ of coffee tends to be the equivalent of what could have been six last sips, and I end up tipping the mug up at too high of an angle (today while walking up the stairs), and -oops- there goes my drink down my shirt. Damn.

And that’s how I ended up wearing an Atari t-shirt to the office today.



Why is it that every time I THINK I’m going to spend the day being productive, and getting my ass in gear all I end up doing is cleaning the kitchen? I could spend my life cleaning the kitchen.

I made banana bread. Maybe I’ll dye my hair.

I doubt it.

TTC Fare Hike

The TTC is raising its fare again, and thus far, the only change I’ve spotted is one of its drivers sitting in a little cage. I went to say hello to him, and then wasn’t quite sure how to engage this poor caged animal in conversation. Either a bank teller or a lion, one or the other is driving this bus, but neither was able to talk to me through the pin holes poked in the plastic surrounding his seat. How absurd. Is this what my extra quarter is paying for?


Fun things:
1) I got to run around all day with an Ugly Stick.
2) The Toronto Islands are absolutely deserted at this time of year so you can run around and do just about whatever you want including riding stationary bikes in the middle of a field – seriously.
3) Fillin’ up Fiji water bottles with tap water can trick you into thinking that you’re drinking glacier water even when it’s just plain old Toronto lake water.


Xwrap something purple shiny fun Lure

Milkbag On a Hook!

All we caught was this lovely milkbag, and I dutifully threw it in the trash, and what a fun day it was nonetheless!

I Love Editors

Whether they’re working for a newspaper, a publishing house, a book company, or something as simple a grading a million student-written essays, editors just rock my world. Seeing what someone thought to be their final draft just ripped to shreds with red ink all over the page somehow gloriously makes my day a little brighter. Maybe it’s the fact that no one ever sees them. They hide deep in the caves and dungeons of offices, keeping to themselves, making all the CEOs and writers and public speakers seem smarter, brighter and sharper.

They may live in the armpits of offices, but they’re apparently not a group to go down without a fight. When The Toronto Star announced several cutbacks earlier this week,  one such editor went to work on the memo announcing said changes.

Click through for the larger image.


Written by John Cruickshank, glorified to high Heaven likely by an underpaid editor.

From The Torontoist

I’m sorry, I’m sorry,

Maybe it’s just my radio, but all the audio around here sounds all FLAT. It doesn’t matter what I’m listening to, or how loud I crank it… but it just sounds FLAT.

I hope my stupid little stereo isn’t going on the fritz. That’s be great. I just sent the microwave down to the curb, and now the radio is just about ready to go on the edge and drop over the side… GREAT.

I don’t know how the pioneers lived without microwaves. I guess they didn’t know any better.

Who starts a letter with “Dear Sirs”? CLASSY OLD-SCHOOL DUDES, THAT’S WHO.


The Highland Games

Years ago, a bunch of friends and I went to the Highland Games in Fergus Ontario. It was good to romp around and get sort of rowdy. I’d worked an entire night shift of twelve hours before the idea even popped into my head that I’d like to go with them, so I was pretty exhausted, and I think I agreed to go on the condition that I’d drive there and back so that I could theoretically decide to leave if I wanted to. Bagpipes and kilts a-plenty and miles and miles away from home, plopped in the middle of a field on their lawn chairs in their tilly hats… were my grandparents.

Ab and Joyce

Ab and Joyce

Field of Kilts

Field of Kilts

Grant, Rhonda, Trevor

Grant, Rhonda, Trevor