Wordage

 

I enjoy drafts.  Listening to All Fantasy Everything, hosted by comedian, Ian Karmel, he and his friends draft everything from best Taco Bell items to Favourite Music Videos to Best One Word Movie Titles.  The podcast has existed for many years and they've not lost on topics to draft.  Way more than can be covered in the opening paragraph of some blog that nobody reads.  Suffice it to say, it's something that I've found personal joy in doing my own drafts and sharing them on Facebook.  I've even shared some with Ian and the AFE podcast.  A couple months back, I concocted my own draft, which I shared with Ian via Twitter and he liked it so much, though he never specified it, I think he may (if he hasn't already) pose that as a subject to draft on All Fantasy Everything.  It'd be fun to find out their picks.

Cruz FM, here in the city, also does a draft.  It's done by morning DJs, Stacie Cooper and Clayton Kroeker.  Usually only local things or items from the province are drafted, but it's still fun to listen to and vote on who the winner is.

All this influence and I've come to the point where I'm going to do another "one-off" draft that, to my knowledge, has not been done yet, but may in the future if someone likes it.  Today's draft is going to be my FAVOURITE WORDS.

Before moving forward with my list of favourite words, I feel it necessary to compile a short list of the words I don't like.  Absolutely detest them.  The first word that I don't much care for: FAKE.

I absolutely hate the word: Fake.  It has such a negative connotation associated with it.  I think it's association with professional wrestling is where it garnered the most hate from me.  Reducing the efforts of what those men and women do in a wrestling ring, to "fake" is a slap in the face to their talent and athleticism.

The next word that I absolutely detest and the irony is not lost on me, is the word: HATE.  My dislike for this word is a thousand percent.  It's a word that should be stricken from the books, as it invokes the worst in people.

Another word that deserves to be stricken from the record is the word that isn't really a word.  PROLLY is for stupid people who can't spell probably.  In a world where auto-correct controls all of our communique, it's hard to argue that prolly should exist.  Yet thousands of dummies continue to use it and it drives me crazy.

Last word I detest and probably the most controversial, is the name of a Canadian Resort.  Banff.  I've always, since I was old enough to speak, have hated that name.  The letters sounds for N and F should not be placed right next to each other and as a result, I'm not confident that I can pronounce it correctly and thus makes me feel like a f*cking idiot!!  Change your name!!

This is a nice segue into my draft for the words that I absolutely LOVE.  These are my favourite words and I try to use them on a regular basis because they're fun and useful. 

Number One (and I suspect would be the most popular word): FUCK!  I really like the F-word.  It's so perfect and universal.  There's a video or audio track out there that I'll try to find and post with this blog when I put it up, that goes through all the many uses of the F-word.  From a noun to a verb to adverbs to you-name-it, fuck can be used for it or to describe it.  I use it frequently.

Numero dos: TREMENDOUS, meaning extraordinarily great in size, amount, intensity or excellence.  For example, my love of the F-word, is tremendous.

Third pick is: EXTRAVAGANZA.  I'm not sure why I ever started liking the word.  I believe it started a couple decades ago, when I'd be calling up the local bars to see if they were going to show the wrestling pay-per-views.  Only when I'd call the various establishments, I'd ask if they were planning to show the "wrestling extravaganza" rather than the PPV.  This, to my knowledge, is the only time I really used the word.  To this day, I don't believe I use it for anything other than in the company of a wrestling event. 🤔  Hmm.  Still a fun word, though.

My fourth pick is one that I began using many many years ago, when I would hang out with Dustin K___ and a bunch of people whom I worked with at the time: DISCOMBOBULATED.  Verbiage was big with these guys and when discombobulated came across our purview, we were enamoured.  More so when the word made an appearance on an episode of The Simpsons.  Looking at the word today, I've come to realize that it's not just a fun word to say and use, but it would seem it's also the a state of mind that I frequently experience.  I've had meltdowns in the past, where I was so confused about something that I did a million times but for a few fleeting minutes, I couldn't grasp the logic of how or what I was doing.  I recently had a moment like that at my current job, but after a few deep breaths to calm my nerves, I was no longer discombobulated and was once again, focused.

Fifth and final pick is the word: INDULGE.  I only recently discovered it's charm and grace.  Meaning to yield to an inclination or desire; to yield to satisfy or gratify.  Essentially surrendering to what brings you joy or satisfaction.  There may be too much of that in the world, but in moderation, I think it's fine and people should practice more.

This concludes my Draft of Favourite Words.  That list again:

1. Fuck
2. Tremendous
3. Extravaganza
4. Discombobulated
5. Indulge

I feel it necessary to make a couple honourary mentions, that never quite made the list, although this first mention was on the list for a short while, before being replaced by "indulge".  That word is: MOIST.  The reason I enjoy it is mostly because most people hate the word.  Moist.  Mmmmoist.  Mmmmm... Moist.  It's so fun to say, but more so when you see people squirm at it's mere mention. 😂

Another word would be: FART  The only reason for this one is that the sound of the word also matches the sound that it describes.  It's like the word orange can only describe the fruit that is the same in colour.  They're made for one another.  Much like only fart can accurately describe flatulence.  Say flatulence to a kid and they'll cock their head to the side like a confused mutt, but say "fart", they'll laugh and know exactly what you're talking about.  Plus....  Let's be honest.  Farts are fun.

The F Word

I try to be light-hearted and jovial in this blog, but sometimes LIFE just kicks me in the nads and suddenly my tendency to laugh at shit is lost.  In my most recent post of Jeff's Brain Matter, I wrote of that chick who tricked me on the Facebook.  Tricked me into thinking I was something that I'm clearly not.  This edition today, may touch base on that, slightly, but this isn't going to be a vehicle to further run myself down.  I just need to vent.  In lieu of lying back on a therapists couch, this medium can be very therapeutic.  I recommend everyone have a blog to work out their thoughts.

Recently, a former high school chum posted some kind of malarkey on the Facebook defending the importance of bees and hornets.  I do recognize that bees are important, but hornets?  I replied that I detest hornets, especially when they fly into my house.  I mentioned that I swat the hell outta them and if they're still twitching, I add salt to their proverbial wound, by taking them out to one of the many ant hills in my yard and I serve them up to the ants to devour that sucker alive.  Circle of life, kind of shit.  She replied to my comment that I was "full of hate".

I don't hate anything, except maybe hate, itself.  On closer inspection, I guess I can add to that, I also hate the F-word.  Not F*CK, but the other F-word.  FAKE!!

I've never been a fan of the word fake, going way back to when I began watching professional wrestling.  While the matches are often scripted or pre-determined, and yes, much of the moves done in the ring are done in a manner to cause the least amount of real harm, accidents happen and people do get hit for real and real injuries occur and sometimes, even worse. 

RIP Owen Hart. 😔

What those men and women can do in that ring, night in and night out is nothing short of incredible and for people to slough it off as nothing more than pretend, is f*cking offensive.

My disdain for fake lies much further across the borders of just professional wrestling.  I hate fake people.  People who pretend to be that which they are not.  People who expend SO much energy into pretending to be someone or something else, instead of working on themselves to be honest to who they are.  By my own admission, I've mentioned that I do mask who I really am from most people.  I don't outright reinvent myself, I just hold back facets of my personality that I don't think mixed company would appreciate.  Is it being dishonest?  Perhaps, but it's not unlike hiding the truth about Santa Claus from our children.  It's a lie, but it's to protect their joy and happiness.  This is similar to what I do.  The only person to see my completeness, a 100% of my personality is my cat and he seems to love me unconditionally so that's good enough for me.

There's a person or several persons on Facebook who pretend to be David Sparks aka Heavy D from TV's Diesel Brothers on Discovery Velocity in Canada (MotorTrendTV in the U.S.)  On Facebook, they will randomly slip into your comments, congratulating you on being a "winner" and invite you to their website, where they will attempt to bamboozle you out of personal information and steal your money and/or identity.  I've never fallen for this fraudulent site, and have repeatedly reported them to the authorities at Facebook, who comeback and claim that they are legitimate.  Meanwhile, Heavy D has posted many times via his own YouTube channel that these sites are fake and shouldn't be followed and to (absolutely) never share any personal information with them.  Facebook turns a blind eye.  F*cking pathetic.  Wish there was a way to police the Facebook police.

This chick that attempted to bamboozle me on Facebook, continued to try and win me over after I busted her on being fake.  "She", if they were even a real she, attempted to tell me that they were a former sex worker and that they left that life.  Meanwhile on YouTube, the very person that she claimed she was, had posted an update to her life in recent months.  On her Twitter, she invited fans to come watch her do a Live Sex Show.  You can't fake LIVE.

Hate is a strong word.  I don't feel comfortable using it.  It's like the word 'love'.  I refuse to say that to anyone, unless I absolutely mean it.  So yes.  If I choose to say "I hate..." then chances are, I really do hate that thing.  I hate liars, cheats and fake people.  I hate the fact that they make me hate.

If people invested as much time and energy into promoting their strong attributes as they do faking their personalities, the world might be a little nicer place to live in.  Don't ya think?

Calgary Expo - Day One

Woke up early this morning, packed the truck full of shit and rushed across town to pick up friends before heading out west, Calgary bound, intent on attending the 2015 Calgary Comic Expo.  This is the second such event that I have attended, the first being in Saskatoon, but in comparison, the Saskatoon version is pretty small.  I had heard stories of what these larger events entailed, so I've entered this scenario with predisposed thoughts, but so far, while scaled up in size, I can't help but think, I thought it'd be bigger.

Granted, it is only the first day and we've had limited exposure.  Tomorrow we're going to tackle a whole other venue we discover via a highly confusing event map.  Also happening tomorrow, I'm going to meet the Hardcore Legend, Mick Foley.  I've been stoked all week long, dreaming (and wondering) just what the hell I'm going to say to the man.  As the minutes and hours pass by, I will admit I'm becoming more overwhelmed with anxiety.  I hope I can hold it together when I do finally meet him.  I have a great deal of respect for the man, as a pro wrestler, a writer, an entertainer and an all around genuinely nice guy.  I know from personal experience that sometimes our heroes let us down when we meet them, but I know in my heart that Mick is the real deal.  More on that subject in the coming days.

The one thing that I do know for sure, is that Calgary, in the sense of maneuvering about in traffic, is insanely moronic.  I don't know who the dumb f*ck was who decided on the meandering streams of traffic, but it is confusing as f*ck.  So confusing, I might add, that the GPS in my friends phone, was barely able to provide a definitive route in order to get from point A to point B.  Either that or it was "the reader", but I'm sure she'd flat out deny that.

Over all, Day One has been uneventful.  Just an opportunity to get our bearings.  We have three more days of this insanity.  Now I'm chillin' at the hotel, headphones on and listening to Bert Kreischer's Bertcast with MMA fighter, Brendan Schaub, disrespect the physicality of professional wrestling, using the my most hated word in the English language....: Fake.

Screwin' the Pooch Pays Off For This Son of a Bitch

Years ago, I came up with an idea about creating artificial plants that included dead and dying leaves.  After all, when all the leaves look prim and proper, then of course the plant is going to look phony.  However, when mowing the lawn in my back yard, I am forever picking up leaves from my neighbours plants.  My neighbour's FAKE plants.  I can't understand how a plant which is primarily made up of plastic and fabric, could possibly lose it's leaves.  Yet here I am.  Bending over and removing plastic material from my lawn and tossing it over the rear fence, back into their yard.

Another factor that I find bothersome about tackling yard work, is the electric cord for my mower.  I have a sizeable yard and therefore require a lengthy extension cord.  So there's that constant necessity of swinging the cord to the side, practically throwing my arm out of joint in the process.  Not to mention, the retarded fashion that my yard is cut up, what with a duo of shrubs bisecting the yard.

The worst thing about doing yard work, though, is my allergies.  I am extremely allergic to grass.  Freshly cut grass.  During the summer months, I'm unable to open my windows for the fear of dusty grass remnants wafting into my house, thus causing extreme discomfort, health-wise.  And despite wearing a dust mask, which works in most cases, it does not always do so.  Today, in fact, by the end of the tedious task, my eyes were swelled shut and I had loads of "material" flowing from my nostrils.  I was in terrible disarray.  While in the garage, I managed to smoke my head two or three times before I finally retired for the day.

I had originally planned on doing this dastardly task yesterday, but opted to remain inside instead.  My neighbour to the north of me was out and about, mowing his lawn, so I'd have really been up shit creek.  I waited until today, instead and thank goodness I did.  My neighbour T__, to the south of me, was about to begin his own bout of yard work, when I came into the front yard with mower in tow and a big white mask over my face.  

"You look like you're ready to perform surgery." he joked.

"I wish." I replied, adding that I was deathly allergic to grass and the affects that it has on me.

"That's terrible." he responded, "What happens to you?"  I explained the extreme occurrences, and that's when he offered up the services of his daughters.  

"They can swing by and mow your lawn when they do ours." he explained.  "And they'll do it for $10."

AWESOME!!!  I f*cking hate yard work and would gladly pay someone $10 a week to do it for me.  That is a sweet deal.  It looks, to me, like screwing the pooch this weekend, really paid off.  Yay!