Brown Eye Sees Red

Although it may sound like what I'm about to declare is cynical, I assure you that this is not the case.  Simply put, throughout my life I've observed many people and things, resulting in my having certain attitudes and beliefs.  Many, or more likely, most people will disagree and this is where the label of Cynic would be bestowed upon me.

I don't believe in God, Jesus or Heaven and Hell.  The likelihood that once upon a time there was a dude named Jesus, is possible.  Hell, you could go down any street in the greater Los Angeles area, call out that name and a half dozen fellas of Latin decent will respond, so the likelihood of one existing in the "biblical" age, is possible.  He probably wouldn't have been found at a Home Depot....  Although, Jesus WAS a carpenter, wasn't he? 🤔  Hmm.  Subject for another day.

I also do not believe in coincidences, accidents or luck.  Not good luck, anyway.  I am somewhat superstitious.  Not to the point that I believe Friday the 13th to be cursed, nor do I think it unfortunate if a black cat crosses my path.  However, I do think that if I break a mirror I will receive seven years of bad luck, although with a good lawyer, you might get that reduced to three years with good behaviour. 😄 [Insert comedic rimshot here 🥁].  I think Wednesdays tend to be the worst day of the week for me, but have improved over the course of the last year, so perhaps I can lay that one to rest.  And red underwear promotes diarrhea.

"WAIT!! What was that last one?" you all are probably saying to yourselves. "Red underwear does what now?" 

I've discovered through trial and error that consistently, whenever I leave the house wearing red underwear, I usually will have an accident or what is called in the armed forces as a near miss.  Today I had a near miss and I will tell you all about it.

It was dark and I was still half asleep when I dressed myself for work, this morning, so I never noticed what colour of undies I was stepping into.  I got to work and everything went as planned.  I arrived downtown late and missed the shuttle back to the garage, so I waited.  When I finally got back to the Operations Center where we keep the buses, I had to go inside to fill out the sheet for overtime.  It was when I was returning to my vehicle to come home when I felt a little pfft.  A little fart snuck out like a teen sneaking out her bedroom window to see the bad boy her parent disapprove of.  Only the aftermath of this sneaky little ripper felt... off.  I stopped dead in my tracks, standing in the middle of the parking lot looking perplexed.  It wasn't until I sat down in my vehicle before I realized what had actually happened.  If the wetness I felt in my undercarriage wasn't enough to convince me, the stench certainly did.  Woof!! 😬

What's done was done.  No getting around that.  I had planned on stopping off at the grocer on the way home and decided to follow through with that plan rather than racing home.  I figured I could salvage my situation in the public restroom before going home.

Have you ever had to "go" really bad and as soon as you arrived at home, it's like your body believes it's okay to open the flood gates before you get to the restroom?  That never happened to me, but like I said, today's debacle was a near miss.

The moment I parked my truck and began my trek into the store, the same thing occurred.  My body thought it was time to unleash the Hounds of Hell at which moment, I tightly clenched my cheeks and I'm not talking about the rosy red ones on my face.  Now I had to quickly make my way inside the store, walking only from the knees down and very little movement everywhere else.  It was all eyes straight forward, avoid eye-contact with everyone and steer straight into the bathroom.  You avoid eye-contact because at moments like these, everyone becomes psychic and they suddenly know you're in peril and will either intervene, forcing the matter to be even more intense.  Or they'll stand back and stare with judging eyes.  Either way, I don't wish to engage.

Before the door was completely open, I saw a sign stating the toilet was out of order.  "Oh shit!!" I said aloud, but then noticed there were two stalls.  A reprieve!!  After removing my heavy coat and gloves is when I discovered the aftermath AND that I was wearing red underwear. 

I ate a salad on the weekend.  Within a few hours, the lettuce and everything had vacated my body and it wasn't pleasant.  At the time, I believed that it was because I may have put too much dressing on the salad.  I'd shaken the bottle so instead of thick ranch dressing oozing out of the bottle, it was a liquified ranch that came rushing out of the bottle.  So last night, when I finished off the pack of salad, I used much less dressing, even adding croutons and cheese to the blend.  So when I discovered the tragedy that had occurred in my skivvies, I was bewildered.

Later in the day, I had to consult Google as to whether salads cause diarrhea and guess what?  I was not the first person to pose this query to the search engine, nor am I the lone wolf affected by this.  Apparently, because salads are high in fibre, it promotes bowel movements and because lettuce has high water content, the afore mentioned bowel movements are often liquified.

🤨 The shit you learn...  Pardon the pun.

I finished out my tasks, including filling up with fuel.  The nastiness was behind me (Again, pardon the pun.)  I had makeshift protection in my pants in the form of folded T.P., which got me thinking about a product to pitch to the folks on Shark Tank.  A protection pad for men.  Similar to those pads that the ladies use, only these would be designed to guard against sharting.  It happens way too often.  Hell, I remember missing my best friend's son's baptism because I sharted on the way to the church.  That was not a near miss.  The attack that day struck with heavy vengeance.  Today's nastiness was mainly water, I believe, but this is bordering on T.M.I..

I had initially called them Shart Pads, but quickly changed the name to Shartnado Pads. [Patent Pending 😉] It's just a catchier name.  

Shit Talking

The morning was cool and moist.  I'd loaded up my truck, arranging all the packages according to town and destination.  Normally it took me about an hour to load the Ford F-450 cube van all by myself, but the task flew by relatively quickly and I sped off, ahead of schedule.  The time was close to 5am and the sun had not yet broken the seal of a new day.  I headed north, towards Prince Albert, my first stop.  The world around me at that early morn, was stranger than usual.  The humidity hung in the air, evident only by strands of fog stretching across the four lane split highway, like ribbons on a gift wrappers table.  Each appearing as eerie as it did elegant and beautiful.  It's an image that returns to my mind on those brisk spring time mornings.

I'd arrived and departed from the storage facility in Prince Albert, located at the south end of town.  I had no incident.  In and out like an international spy, racing away with secret documents.  Only I didn't have any such items in my possession.  Only half a truck full of large boxes and some car parts.  My destination was now Melfort, located about an hour to the east.  By this time, the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, shining extra brightly, piercing through my visor and blinding me, by the time I'd reached Birch Hills, SK.  It was also around this time where I began to feel a little off.

It wasn't sickness or anything alike, but it was more of an uncomfortable pressure.  I had a poop coming on.  I was confident that I could not only make it to Melfort before anything bad might occur.  The guy I met every day, was usually a few minutes late arriving when I would be there, so I thought I could make it to the Tim Horton's in well enough time.  With the lack of traffic at that time I arrived with only minutes to spare, however, as fate would have it, the guy I normally had to wait on, was already at the meeting site.  I didn't have a whole lot to hand off to him, mostly just large items, so I helped load him up, all the while fighting the pressure that was building in my downstairs region.

I was relieved when the fella departed right away, rather than engaging in the small chit-chat that he regularly partook in.  I locked up my van and began the arduous trek across the uneven broken ground between the parking area and the Timmy Ho's.  By this time, my butt cheeks were clenched so tight, that if you'd have placed a lump of coal between them, I would have produced a diamond worthy of royalty.  My travel was laborious and difficult, on account I was only able to take small steps from the knees down.

Best I could, I rushed into the donut shop and headed straight to the washroom, but...  Yes.  It was too late.  The floodgates from hell opened up, filling my brand new red boxer briefs in the process.  I had just shit myself and yes, in case you needed to ask, I did feel tremendous shame.  I could have and should have excused myself, when I had initially arrived in Melfort, but like a "tough guy" I chose not to and now I was paying dearly.

In the following weeks, I had a couple more close calls, nearly filling my red boxer briefs before locating adequate facilities.  Once, I needed to duck between lockers at the storage facility in Prince Albert.  I rested my back up against the wall and unleashed the fury.  Another time, happened in Birch Hills.  I was much more vulnerable there, opting to hide behind some large farm equipment and doing my business there.  Again, I was wearing red underwear.  I began seeing a pattern here.  Every time I wore the red under garments, I either had a terrible accident or a near-fatal accident in my shorts.  Even around town, when I'm making a quick run to the grocer, if I'm wearing red undies, I'd better stick close to a public washroom, or else.

I saw my Diabetic nurse today.  A quick meeting to try out one of these sensor things that attach to my arm so I can monitor my blood sugars more easily.  For years, the doctor requested that I do blood check with the strips and the little device, but alas, I am a diabetic and even in Canada with our awesome healthcare, diabetics still get f*cked over.  Those strips cost a LOT of money and I don't have a benefits package at my job.  Hell, if we're being completely honest, I don't even have a f*cking job at this time, but I can't afford to pay, out-of-pocket for those strips.  So I was given some of these sensor pads to try on my phone.  Equally as expensive, so I'm told, but I thought I'd give 'em a try.

Diabetic nurse helped me out, then I was on my way.  I headed to the Wal-Mart to grab some milk, bread and subsequently, some treats for my boy, Monkey.  No sooner had I filled my cart with all my items, that I felt something rumble.  I farted, but it wasn't a fart. It was more beefy than it was gaseous.  Immediately, I recalled slipping on red underwear when I got dressed this morning (TMI?🤨) and the race was on.

Like a starter pistol had fired off, I began to push my cart back across the store.  Of course this shit happens (pardon the pun😉) when I'm at the furthest point away from the public washroom.  Stepping from my knees down, once again, I arduously raced past confused onlookers and congested hubs of hanging apparel.  As the destination drew closer, I felt something tickling my butt cheek, dancing down my leg.  I thought I was losing my keys through another hole in my pocket, but when I shook my leg to free up the keys, a meatball rolled out, coming to a stop under a display of dehumidifiers.  I paused, completely shocked and disgusted by what had just happened.  I'm not as disgusting as those videos of people dropping trow and shitting in a deserted grocery aisle or that pig who squatted in front of a counter at a Tim Horton's in Ontario and took a whopping shit, despite of all the onlookers.  I had apparently shit, nothing terribly catastrophic, but equally as bad.

The situation in the bathroom was not nearly as horrific as I'd initially believed.  It was actually a quick and easy clean up.  I used a LOT of paper, mind you.  Didn't require it, but in these cases, it's better to be overindulgent than thrifty.

This is the kind of shit (again, apologies for the pun), that most people probably wouldn't or shouldn't share with anyone.  Especially my friends and peers, but whatever.  Everyone has shit themselves at some point in their adult lives.  If they claim they haven't they're probably f*cking lying.

I remember one time when my nephew was quite small.  He was just getting out of the diaper-wearing game, so accidents would happen sometimes.  I remember this one time, he shit himself and my sister went off on him.  The kid had a lot of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) and this always lead to his accidents.  He believed that something exciting might happen while he was in the bathroom.  So this one time, my sister is shitting on him for shitting on himself and the poor kid felt terrible.  He came over to where I was sitting, with tears in his eyes.  I tried to comfort the boy by admitting to him that accidents happen.  That sometimes even adults poop themselves.  My sister overheard this and ripped me a new asshole, yelling at me to stop lying to him and that I needed to tell him I was lying.  Instead, I looked her dead in the eye and asked, "Are you f*cking high?"  Everybody shits themselves.  I've done it at least twice in my adult life.

I doubt anyone will read this, which is why I feel confident in writing this blog.  Judge me or don't.  I don't don't give two shits.  If a person can't laugh at themselves, sometimes, then they're just shitheads...  There's a lot of shit talk this post.  Hmm. 🤔

Discovery Jumps The Shark, Again

Today marks the official start of Shark Week on Discovery Channel.  The beginning of August, every year for the last 27 years, has been marked with tradition.  Droves of people, all over the world, numbering in the millions, sit with eyes glued to their television sets, prepared to ooh and ah at the beauty and the marvels of all that is shark-related.  Learning important facts that sharks aren't the mindless eating machines that we were falsely lead to believe with the onslaught of the Jaws movies, but that they are actually intelligent and beautiful creatures on a whole.  Am I willing to climb into the chilly waters with these magnificent creatures? F*ck no!  However, I might be more easily convinced to do so from all that I've learned over the years.

In the nearly three decades that Shark Week has been in existence, there's been a plethora of documentaries covering a wide span of topics, all shark-related.  Documentaries included spotlighting the wide variety of sharks, the different regions where sharks exist, the diet of sharks (which may still surprise people, doesn't include humans); as well as the continuing improvement in the science and devices used to study sharks.

Survivor stories of shark attacks, also contribute largely to the documentaries included in the famed event dedicated to sharks, not to mention, memorials of those who weren't fortunate to survive shark attacks.  Honourably so, however, whether people overcame their injuries or not, the shark was seldom demonized.

Shark Week has also brought the malicious slaughter of sharks, via the practice of Shark Finning, in which some countries, like Japan, capture sharks by the f*cking thousands, slice off their fins, then toss the (still living) remains into the ocean, where the sharks, unable to swim, die a painful death by drowning.  If it wasn't for the fact that most of the Japanese culture knows a martial art of some sort, I'd love to punch a few of those motherf*cker's in the face and toss them overboard..! (Too much?)  I digress...

Celebrities from all facets of entertainment and science....  They've all gotten involved in one way or another, over the years.  Most of them, have been under contract with Discovery Channel already, so there wasn't much of a stretch, although I question the need to have the American Chopper guys involved.  Other Discovery alum includes Mike Rowe (Dirty Jobs) and the Mythbusters, Jamie Hyneman and Adam Savage who also contributed by doing a couple Mythbuster episodes looking into the validity of stunts spotlighted in the Jaws movies.  Those episodes were fascinating.

Most recently actor Adam Samberg (SNL, Brooklyn 99) "hosted", as is actor Rob Lowe (Outsiders, West Wing) doing so, this year.  Comedian, Josh Wolf, is reprising his role as host on Shark After Dark, a show that spotlights and discusses the day's shark documentaries.  Years ago, TV's Craig Ferguson was also a contributor to the "American holiday", by swimming with Caribbean reef sharks of the coast of the Bahamas.  In the documentary, Ferguson joked (halfheartedly) at the premise of being bitten or even devoured by sharks, only to exit the water, emotionally expressing his impression of  his overall experience. "That was fantastic! They are so beautiful." he said, "They're like really big dogs, aren't they?"

It's incredible the wide spectrum of subject matter that this one ocean creature, has garnered over the nearly three decades that Shark Week has existed.  So it is no wonder that the subject may be depleting.  After all, as remarkable as watching Great White Sharks breach the depths, off the coast of South Africa, flying sharks, I'm sorry to say, gets a little boring after a while.  I suspect that our insatiable appetite, as a society, for bigger, badder and more incredible feats and facts, is why Discovery Channel has taken to producing "Docudramas" in an effort to maintain the appetite for all that is shark-related.  Last year, they kicked off Shark Week with the airing of "MEGALADON: The Monster Shark" last year.  The network portrayed it as an actual documentary and admittedly, I was completely enthralled with the program, believing every fact that was presented.  Every interview and every photograph.  I trusted it's every valid claim, wholeheartedly, until the very end, when the show posted that the preceding program was a complete work of fiction.  Needless to say, I was devastated.  It felt like a close and trusted friend had lied to be.  I was completely betrayed by Discovery.  I continued to watch the programming for the week, but because the network had pulled the wool over everyone's eyes with that virtual lump of bullshit, my enjoyment paled in comparison to previous years.  In the months since, I've managed to work past all that, so when commercials began airing for SHARK WEEK 2014, I began to get excited again.

Tonight (08-10-14), I tuned into the first show, "Air Jaws: Fin of Fury", which is a sequel to last year's "Air Jaws: The Search for Colossus".  The program spotlights the continuous (two-year) search for a massive and aggressive Great White that had completely disappeared from the waters off Seal Island in South Africa.  It was and again, a wonderful and fascinating documentary about searching the world's oceans for a single, albeit monstrous, shark.

Immediately following that, another new show, "SHARK OF DARKNESS: Wrath of Submarine", aired.  I read the description provided by my cable box, and the premise sounded intriguing.  It was a docudrama telling the story of the inexplicable sinking of a whale watching boat, that resulted in many of it's riders becoming prey for a 30-plus foot shark, known in the vicinity as Submarine.  Within in seconds of it's start, a warning placard was displayed that explained that the following program is produced for entertainment purposes only.  EPIC FAIL!!!!

Again, Discovery is attempting to blow smoke up our asses.  Producing a telecast of complete fiction.  Ironically, enough, the subject Submarine IS an actual shark reported in the area of South Africa, although it was only after a menagerie of local reporters fabricated the initial story.  They placed a seed into the media to see how gullible people were, and proved that people, as a whole, are dumb as shit.  Even after the prompt at the beginning of SHARK OF DARKNESS, there were live tweets shared on the screen and people were expressing how they would love to witness this shark firsthand.  F*ck me, people are f*cking stupid!  I guess I, or we, should all be gracious that Discovery chose to post the disclaimer at the beginning, rather than the end.  That saved me two hours of wasted time.

Science continues to evolve.  Everyday there are new discoveries being learned.  I don't know why the Discovery Channel can't produce factual programming that investigates that.  Why Discovery Channel can't teach us all, further, rather than spending millions to produce this drivel in an attempt to trick it's audience. Hopefully, Discovery will come to change their ways, getting back to the meat of the matter and steer away from what might ultimately become SHART WEEK!!