Holy Shnikeys!!!

For years I've heard reports of people calling 911 on a number of fast food restaurants when less than appropriate service was given.  Offenses ranging from breakfast no longer being available to Mickey D's running out of McNuggets.  All these years, upon hearing of these incidents, I was left scratching my head, bewildered by the stupidity and naivety of people's use of the emergency number.  Earlier tonight, I finally came to understand the frustration these people must have experienced.

It's been, at least, a couple of months since my last visit through the drive-thru at McDonald's.  Although buying fast food is hardly within my budget, I've been doing well in not wasting cash, lately and didn't feel like slaving over a hot stove and grill for sustenance tonight.  I was craving apple pie and decided, on the fly, to step into the nearby McDonald's to grab a quick meal deal and some apple pie.

I was shocked when I entered the restaurant, as they've all but done away with counter staff, replacing all with giant video screens, ushering patrons to point and click on what food purchases they crave.  I quickly went to my usual meal, the Quarter Pounder with Cheese and was shocked to learn the price had skyrocketed.  I'd been through the drive-thru a couple of months ago and the cost of the burger meal was a shade over the six dollar mark, but today the screen shone $9.85 back in my face.  That's nearly a four dollar rise.  I figured this was a mistake and went to the one and only counter person left in the establishment.

She was of a, shall we say, landed immigrant persuasion.  There's nothing wrong with that, but English was not her native tongue and had no idea what my concern was.  Confused, she ushered the shift supervisor over to assist me.  Sadly, his English was equally as poor.  I'm thinking that McDonald's had placed the video purchase kiosks in, specifically so people didn't have to battle the substantial language barrier with their kitchen staff.  I explained my concern that it was impossible that the price of a quarter pounder would jump nearly four dollars in less than two months, but through his broken English, I was able to learn that not only had the price of all the food at McDonald's had risen, but it had done so, several times over that two month time period.  I was shocked.

I was flabbergasted, vocalizing my disdain.  I pointed out that I could get a burger across the street, at Wendy's for less money and it would cost less.  He blankly stared at me, incapable of comprehending what I'd just said.  "So you want the quarter pound burger, sir?"

"No thanks!" I said, adding that the price was a rip-off to their customers.  "All I really wanted was apple pie.  Do you know if Wendy's across the street has apple pie?"

"I don't know what they sell there, sir.  Do you still want the quarter pound burger?"

"No, I don't want the burger.  That price is bullsh....  It's complete bull." I said.  "I want to swear, right now, it's so wrong!  Why did the price go up so drastically?  It's obvious you don't need the money for counter staff."

He parted his lips to reveal a crooked smile and answered, "No sir.  It's to adjust for the exchange rate."

"Exchange rate?  But Canadian McDonald's get all their meat and supplies from Canadian suppliers."

He continued to smile at me, "Do you want the apple pie?"  I asked how much and found that aside from the $1 drinks, the apple pie was the only other reasonably priced item on the menu.  $1.65 for two, albeit tiny, apple pies.

I paid for my fruity pastries and drove across the street to the Wendy's.  There were two police cruisers parked in the lot and I was tempted to report the robbery that McDonald's was committing on their loyal patrons, but didn't go through with the farce as I'm not a f*cking lunatic, but I did come to understand the frustration those people must have experienced in their unfortunate dealings with those fast food restaurants.

The burger wasn't any cheaper from Wendy's, but it tasted a helluva lot better than McDonald's ever could on their best day.  At least I got a Vanilla Rootbeer from Wendy's which was worth the extra couple of bucks, in the long run.

A very long time ago, I had decided to boycott McDonald's.  My goal was to not step foot inside or eat any of their food for a ten year stretch, and if my nephew hadn't been born, I would've made it to that goal, but unfortunately, in his youth, he wanted to go to McDonald's and my goal fell short by. literally, about six months.  After that, I continued my visits, as the prices were reasonable, though the food was shit.  Today, the food is STILL shit, but the prices are even shittier.  I feel another boycott coming.  Maybe this time I'll shoot for twenty years!

It's All Greek To Me

As a guy, I of course hate asking for directions.  I'm not entirely certain of this, but I believe it's a predetermined trait exclusive to the male DNA.  Almost as if a female scientist began the Human Genome study with hopes of pinpointing the exact strand that makes a man unwilling to consult outside aid for directions.  Personally, I can read a map pretty damn well, so my reluctance is rarely called upon.  However, I have been known to swallow my pride, pull the car over and ask a local for directions for a desired destination.  More often than not, I'm given adequate, easy-to-follow instructions and we're well on our way.  However sometimes...  Sometimes you get someone who, I don't know if they're deliberately trying to f*ck with me or if they're really that f*cking stupid.

There's a plethora of terms that can translate into the measurable mile, but it's the non-specifics that tend to plague my fragile mind.  "It's just over yonder." they'll say, leaving me scratching my head, wondering, is it past 'yonder'?  Like, do I have to physically cross over yonder to get there?  What the f*ck is a 'yonder', anyway?  Or they'll say, "It's up the road a piece."  A piece of what?  A piece of pie?  A piece of dog shit?  I hear that it's English that's pouring out of their mouth holes, but I haven't got the foggiest idea what the f*ck they're saying...  The one term that takes the proverbial cake (I wonder if it was a 'piece of cake' that other fella meant..,) is when they wave their arm in the direction and tell me, "It's down the road a spell."

I wasn't such a great student in school.  Some reading difficulties and I tended to daydream a little, but what I was able to catch in my math class, none of it referred to a spell.  My English classes covered grammar and spelling, and I can spell words better than most, though I do falter once in a blue moon, but as for math class, a 'spell' never was mentioned.  Granted, I never took calculus or trigonometry or any of those complex math sciences.  I don't know what the f*ck all that shit was about, but I can be fairly confident that no spells or sorcery was dealt with in those forums, either.  So, what the f*ck is a 'spell'?

How far is it?  What is it's measurable distance?  Being Canadian, I (along with most of the world) was taught the Metric System.  A series of tens, hundreds and thousands, blah blah blah, and so on.  It's a fairly simple program for measuring distance and mass, that the Americans seem to dismiss a little too easily.  My father was raised learning the old Imperial system that measured distance with miles and feet.  Weight with pounds and mass with gallons and/or bushels.  I remember asking one time, how big a bushel was and he pointed to a basket and said "About as big as that."  I was so confused by it all.  However, he never once mentioned the elusive 'spell'.  He never informed the family that he was going to go fishing at such 'n' such lake, located one hundred spells from home.  No.  He never did that, because he was a smart man.  Not some f*ckin' rube from around the way.  (*Apologies for using 'around the way'.  I don't know how far that is.)

Mathematics is universal.  Literally.  No matter where you go on the planet or out in the galaxy.  Wherever you are, two plus two will always equal four.  And whatever you call it, a mile will equal a mile and a kilometer will equal a kilometer.  And I guess, the same will go for stupidity.  As Forrest Gump's mama used to say, "Stupid is as stupid does."  If people are going to continue using f*cking dumb-ass terminology, then we're always going to have men parked at the side of the road, frantically looking over a map, rather than asking for directions.

It Goes To Show, You Never Can Tell

On November 30, 2014, a Sunday, the gentleman pictured above was witnessed robbing a Best Buy in Langley, British Columbia.  At knife point, he robbed the store of an XBox and a Playstation 4, and was seen departing with a white dude in a Caravan.  The assailant is described as an East Indian.

I don't really give a rat's ass about this f*cking crime.  It doesn't affect me one way or the other, but what does affect me, is that a "Facebook Friend" posted this news article, then when I made suggestions as to the apprehension of the fellow, I was blatantly called a racist!  This pisses me off!  No one's ever had the balls big enough to call me such a horrific name before.  Not ever.  While I do harbour some ill-will towards others, I wouldn't label it as racism.  I tend to hate everyone equally.  In the simplest of terms, if you're a f*cking idiot, then there's a good chance that I'm going to have a strong dislike for you.

So as to not dispute what I had written, I've copy and pasted my comment  here: Obviously he's Middle Eastern. Start checking all the mosques in the area. It's not racial profiling when you have photographic proof.  I fail to see how this would be construed as a "racist" comment, when all the facts point to my being correct.  She responded with the following:  It IS racial profiling when you are making the assumption that:  1. He's Middle Eastern, not Canadian, and 2. That you are assuming he's Muslim.

I'll kindly ask you not to post racist nonsense to my wall.

In her comment, plastered on her timeline, open to everyone to read, she claims that the fellow pictured above, is not of Middle Eastern decent, as I had described him;  However, if she had taken the time to actually read the f*cking news story that she had posted so prominently, she'd see that the suspect IS Middle Eastern.  I could give a shit if he was born in Canada, chances are he probably was, but it doesn't change his appearance any.

If she wants to call me an asshole, then fine.  I'm an asshole.  I can agree with that statement.  I'll own the fact that I'm an asshole.  This isn't news to me, nor would I consider it an insult.  I do, however, take great offense to being called something that I'm not.

Considering her past, I'm a little surprised at how easily she plays the name game.  I mean, I've never judged her on her transgressions.  When she lost so many friends over it, I was willing to look past and still maintain a degree of friendliness.  Perhaps I was wrong to befriend a thief.

As Chuck Berry says "It goes to show, you never can tell."  It looks like, to me, if I don't get a proper (public) apology, I may be deleting another "Facebook Friend".

If you currently reside in the Langley area and recognize this piece shit thief, and I mean the dude in the picture, please report via the following:

If anyone has any information that would assist police with this investigation, call Langley RCMP at: 604-532-3200. Should you need to remain anonymous, call CrimeStoppers:

Talk:   1-800-222-TIPS (8477)

Type:   www.solvecrime.ca

Text:   BCTIP and your message to CRIMES (274637)

Babies Shooting Guns

I had an Atari 2600 when I was a kid.  Other kids poked fun at it's archaic technology, which failed considerably to the tech that their video game systems provided.  Ironically, as cheap and unfulfilling as the tech was then, it's greatly sought after today.  It's my belief, that there's a certain charm that accommodates the simplicity of the times.  An innocence that we've lost and are now in desperate search of.  The flash and speed of today's video games are awesome and heart-pounding, but sometimes it's nice to sit back for a relaxing game of Pong.  In simpler terms, going to the latest popular restaurant for an evening of gourmet dining is fantastic, but it's more enjoyable to settle down for some of grandma's apple pie and iced tea.

I had cap guns as a child.  I reveled in the smell of spent caps burning from the toy handgun after firing off a barrage of paper caps at imaginary foes.  Later on, I'd be gifted a plastic machine gun that you'd cock back the "firing mechanism" and it'd sound off a string of violent tones, like no other.  It even had a small red protruding mass at the end of the barrel to simulate fire.  It was a cool toy and I may even still have that kicking around somewhere in my basement, I think with my Star Wars figures.  Imagination was the key to fun playtime.

Today, it seems, imagination isn't enough.  Actually, when looked into deeper, I think kids who use an imagination are deemed defective, having some kind of mental deficiency that "professionals" need to aggressively address with mind-numbing medication.  I believe they've reassigned "imagination" as "Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD)"  Today, it seems that kids need more mental stimulation.  To be more hands on.  Case and point;  That poor nine year old girl last week who mistakenly shot her shooting instructor with an uzi.

Since then, there's been a nationwide debate on whether it's acceptable for a small child to be handling any kind of weaponry, let alone a freakin' uzi.  Gun freaks are standing firm that children need to learn how to use such weapons, insisting that the American Constitution decrees it so.  Being Canadian, I don't know exactly what all the Amendments decree or not, but given the advancement in the 227 years since it's inception, I'm sure some of the original amendments would be up for interpretation.  That being said, because I AM Canadian, chances are I have a greater handle on the subject than most Americans.  The Bill of Rights was enacted between 1787 and 1789, which was a completely different era.  The Second Amendment, the Right to Bear Arms, wasn't added until 1791 and at that time, everyone had single shot muskets.  I'm sure the Founding Fathers would be whistling a different tune today, if they came across the menagerie of mechanized destruction available to their citizens.  I'm sure they'd be busting out the Thesaurus and wording the amendment differently, so as not to be misconstrued by the borderline insane.  For sure, they wouldn't want today's mismanaged youth getting a hold of such weapons.

I've said it before and I will happily repeat this.  Unless there's a zombie apocalypse, there's really no need for ANY child to be picking up and firing off an assault weapon.  To do so, is completely insane.  We don't allow children to vote until the age of 18, because they're not educated enough to make an important decision like choosing the leader of the free world.  Children are not allowed to operate a motor vehicle until the age of 16, because it's believed their not coordinated enough to operate a sophisticated machine like a Buick or Toyota.  Yet, people believe a f*cking 9-year old girl should be intelligent and coordinated enough to proficiently operate an assault weapon..?  On Twitter this morning I came across a conversation between Anderson Cooper (@AC360) and Hollywood director, Judd Apatow (@JuddApatow), where the "This is 40" director argued that his "large for her age" six-year old shouldn't be discriminated against if she wishes to shoot a machine gun.  I hope he's only kidding, but if he's not, I hope his wife, Leslie Mann, slaps some sense into his head.

I know parents aren't in any hurry to have their kids grow up, and I believe that shooting real guns, will steal away their innocence, just as tragically as Father O'Brien's one-on-one tutoring sessions with little Billy after Sunday school.  As a kid, I liked the smell of freshly fired off paper cap gun strips.  So much so, that I would forgo the cap gun, spreading out the roll and using my dad's hammer to pop them off.  I doubt little Susie likes the air of GSR on her clothes after rattling out 50 rounds of 9mm shells.

As an adult, at my father's urging, I picked up a .22 rifle and shot a pigeon that was roosted in the old barn on the farm where I grew up.  I did not enjoy that experience, nor the guilt that I felt following it.  Another experience I had with a hand gun, was when I rung a door bell in Edmonton, Alberta.  The resident had been the victim of home invasion twice before and no longer took chances when a stranger rang his bell.  I was greeted with the largest barrel I've ever laid eyes on, pointed straight at me, aimed between my eyes.  The image to this day, still gives me debilitating shivers and nightmares.  Movies and video games have provided most of us with a fractured reality of what exactly these devices are and the reality of their destruction, completely disregarding the innocence that is lost in the process.

Given all the gun violence and school shootings in recent years, I can't wrap my head around the concept that "intelligent" people can't (or won't) support some kind of gun restriction or control to help regulate semi-automatic assault weapons.  It's inexplicable to me that their answer to gun violence is more guns.  And it blows my mind that they want their babies shooting right along side of them.

The Walking Dead is an amazing program.  I love every episode and never miss a single week, when it's on.  Have you noticed it takes place in the deep south?  I reckon it's because of the backward thinking of the rednecks.  Backward thinking like marrying your cousins and letting your pre-schoolers carry Mac-10 sub-machine guns in their backpacks. If there's a zombie outbreak in America, it's going to be a smorgasbord.  Nobody seems to be using their brains for much anyway.

Two hundred and twenty-seven years since the inception of the Bill of Rights...  How do we know the Founding Father's just wanted people to have the option to wear shirts without sleeves?  It's up for interpretation. 

Only The Good Die Young

At long last, I sat down tonight and viewed the movie "50/50", which stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Seth Rogen.  Levitt portrays a cancer patient who learns that he's got a rare form of cancer that has a survival rate of 50%.  The story shows how he deals with his own mortality, but more importantly, how even though he's able to bravely manage his condition, he is oblivious to how those around him are being affected.  The movie is loosely based on a friend of Seth Rogen's, so the subject matter hit pretty close to home for the Canadian actor.

My own father, passed away a little over thirteen years ago, succumbing to his own cancers (yes, cancers plural).  I can't recall which two types of cancer he had.  I believe one was in his esophagus, which is one that he'd battled (unknowingly) for a number of years.  There was another cancer two, which has spread from the first, but I can't recall what it was.  Needless to say, by the time medical help was sought, it was too late and he died a couple of months later.

That is pretty much my only experience with cancer directly.  Indirectly, I had a friend around the same time that was stricken with testicular cancer.  At the time, in a show of solidarity, a few of us friends all shaved our heads, bald, so he would not be the only one to stand out.  I thought it was a nice gesture, and I think he appreciated it.  I remember the night we all did it, the shaving of our heads, that is.  No one really knew what they were doing, but had some fun with it all the same.  I remember my friend, D_____, the fellow with the cancer, went first, opting for a mohawk, before finally taking it all off.  Next was T_____, his "toxic twin" (drinking pal), who instead, shaved the top of his head, leaving the sides and back, resembling himself as an old man, before finally taking off all his hair.  A couple more did it before it was finally my turn.  As I'd stated, no one really knew what they were doing at first, so there were a lot of nicks and cuts on those first few craniums, before everyone honed their craft.  By the time it was my turn, all hair was removed without incident or injury.

Watching the movie, tonight, though, I came to a conclusion.  A sort of theory, if you will.  Despite my outward appearance, I've always remained fairly healthy.  My family seem to all thing that I am destined for an early grave, but they're full of shit and should really worry about their own affairs and leave my shit alone. However, I truly believe that I can't (and likely won't) ever be stricken with anything major like cancer, and this is the reason why:  I don't have anyone to share it with.

By this I mean, the people that I've experienced cancer and serious shit with, have always had a strong family presence or a loved one like a girlfriend or alike to lean on in times of strife.  I don't have that.  I'm not particularly close (in that way) to my family, nor do I have anyone of significant importance in my life, like a girlfriend or anyone.  No one I would burden with trivial shit like cancer.  I haven't a soul, which I believe will ultimately save my life.  "You can't lose everything, if you don't have anything to lose."  The downside, of course, is the fact that I will probably continue to be lonely and miserable.  So it's not all sunshine and roses.

I do not have cancer, nor do I speculate that I will be stricken with it anytime soon.  I do, however, go into the hospital on June 29th, to be put under anesthesia for some sort of procedure to find out why I continue to choke on food, but I doubt that will be anything too terribly serious, and doubt very much that I would die from such a routine procedure.  I mean, f*ck!  I've had the same routine performed on me a half dozen times, while completely conscious, so the positive is that I'm going to be under some heavy duty narcotics, and drugs are ALWAYS fun.

Rocker Billy Joel has the song "Only The Good Die Young".  There are no worries by this cat, as I'm not as good as people think I am, so I won't be dying anytime soon.  Besides which.., I'm a Juggalo!  And wicked clowns, never NEVER DIE!!!

November 29th

The date November 29th has always been an important date for me. Not only is it the day of my birth, a day that should become a mandatory day off from work and school for everyone, but because so much has occurred on November 29th, throughout the ages. Some good and albeit, some not-so-good. A lot of good and important people have been born upon this day. And from what I've read recently, a lot of people have also died on this day. However, so I hear, you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

For instance, I read that in 1963, a Trans-Canada flight crashed 4 minutes after take-off in Montreal, Quebec, killing all 111 onboard. Not really a day for celebration. Actress Natalie Wood drowned off Catalina Island, in 1981. Much mystery surrounded the accident and the case has been recently re-opened for investigation, which many speculate is because a book has just been published on the subject and re-opening the case will boost book sales. Aren't writers just greasy, sometimes?

Actor Cary Grant died in 1982 at the age of 82. In 1984, a Korean flight disappeared near Burma, with 115 people aboard. Not surprising for that region. I've seen them drive cars. In 1991, 17 people were killed in an astounding 164-car wreck during a sandstorm on Interstate Number Five near Coalinga, California. It's not known if any Korean drivers were involved.

Although a lot of bad shit has rained down on this day, a lot of good has become of it too. For instance, in 1890, the Navy demolished the Army by a score of 24-0 in the first ever Army-Navy football game, which was played at West Point, New York. GO NAVY!! Ever wonder why the Air Force never plays? Fly boys throw like girls.

The first flight over the South Pole, was made on this day by U.S. Navy pilot, Lt. Cmdr. Richard E. Byrd. Kind of ironic... Bird. Byrd. GO NAVY!!!

In 1947, U.N. General Assembly passed a resolution calling for the division of Palestine between the Arabs and the Jews. I wonder how that's been going.... Hmm?

Also on this date, Bill Gates adopted the name Microsoft for the company he and Paul Allen had formed. And in 2004, handsome Japanese actor, Godzilla receives a star on Hollywood's Walk of Fame.

It's the birthdays on this day, that have me the most stoked. There are many people born this day, both famous and alike. Pictured above, are just a few of those people. Tom Sizemore (Heat), Don Cheadle (Colors), Anna Faris (House Bunny), Garry Shandling (Iron Man 1 & 2), "Danger" Ehren (Jackass), Gena Lee Nolin (Baywatch), Jeff Fahey (Lawnmower Man) and Larry Joe Campbell (Hall Pass). Also included is fellow Canadian, Howie Mandel (Deal or No Deal). Not to mention, WWE Hall of Famer's "Mean" Gene Okerlund and Jerry "The King" Lawler, and future Hall of Famer, John "Bradshaw" Layfield, who ironically a few years ago not only shared my birthday, but we'd both injured ourselves by tearing our left bicep muscles. His, undoubtedly, from a mishap in the ring, where as my injury was far less glamorous.

I have always held this day in high regards. To most, it's just another day. To me, it's an occasion. Not only was this world blessed by having me born into it this day, but it should be a day held in high regard, like Thanksgiving or Independence Day or Christmas even. Every one should have this day off. Spend it with family. Spend it with friends. As soon as this is posted I'm going to go spend it with my boy, Monkey. Unfortunately, for me, today, I was woken up at the break of 6am with a mind-splitting migraine. Even now, after pumping myself full of prescription narcotics for fighting this ailment, my head still pounds.

So go forth, people. Give your loved ones a squeeze or a hug, I mean. Don't go all "Sandusky" on your family, like some kind of homo. Commemorate this day. Celebrate it! Make it an event. For it is a day that one of history's truly greatest human beings was born. ME!