New Leaf

Well, it’s here.  The beginning of the end, as it were.  I have been offered a new job, and I have accepted.  Does this mean I will be working less?  Hopefully.  Will I be less stressed out?  Again, hopefully.  I can’t say for certain, but what I do know is that I will be giving my two weeks notice on December the 12^th, and I’m somewhat… hesitant?  Not because I don’t want to leave – no mistake there, I’m done.  It’s just that I haven’t really had to give notice at a job in a looooong time, and I’ve forgotten how.

Suggestions?

Dear Vancouver:

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!

Anyone out there ever hear of the concept of Karma?

Anyone?

I should have actually titled this post "Dear Luongo, you useless sack of shit", mostly because I hate his Greasiness with a passion usually reserved for politicians and Jehovah's Witnesses.  But after the wonderful rioting, fuck 'em all.  Paint them all with the same brush. I've been to Vancouver, and as a rule, I stay the hell away from it.  Because I don't like it.  They wish they were Toronto, and that's no compliment.

Long story short, if your professional sports team is too busy talking about how awesome it's going to be when (not if, but when) then win the championship, then manages to choke on it like Mama Cass*, no one will feel badly for you.  Even while you're burning down your own city.


*Yes, I'm aware she actually died from a heart attack.  Shut it.

Fuck You, Dollarama.

So there I am.  Minding my own business, with the family, standing at the checkout at the local dollar store picking up some Halloween supplies.  My son steps on my (sandaled) toes for about the fourth time that day.  I lean down and tell him to knock that shit off.  As I'm trying to help wifey get everything out of the cart, the four year old behind us in line walks up and stomps on my foot.  Is this fucking WalMart?!?  No, no it's not Wal Mart.  But I have to say, my first instinct was to turn around and punch the dad in the fucking nose.  Much to my surprise, said dad actually was paying some attention, and in short order I had an apology on my hands - which I accepted, graciously, I might add.

Long story short, I was shocked that the little fucker stomped on my foot, and more shocked that his father actually made him apologize.

Yes, I've been drinking, so if this seems somewhat disjointed, then fuck you, it's because it is.  Gah.

Go Fuck Yourself Friday - Thursday Edition

So, for whatever reason, my blog has decided to pick random (and old) dates for when it thinks I may have possibly published shit.

Fuck you Blogger.

If this shit doesn't subside, and I mean pronto, I will be forced to revise my layout, as I'm reasonably sure that it has something to do with said time/date issues.  If that fails, I'm sliding a grenade into my D: drive and moving along to something else.  Time will tell, won't it?

Yes, it's Thursday.  I won't have time for this tomorrow, due to an influx of shit to do at work.  That, and I would like to spend more time working on another project - T.V. Xtreme, where I plan (hope) to review some watchable television.  We'll see.  Boardwalk Empire, Lost Girl, Walking Dead and No Ordinary Family are all shows I'll be picking up this year.  Stay tuned over there, if you're so inclined.  Otherwise, stick around here for the usual bitchiness.

(H)EL(L)EVATOR ETIQUETTE

Come close.  Gather 'round.  I'm here to help, but I can only help if you listen.  Here's what you need to know when it comes to getting in, riding on, and getting out of elevators.

Boarding:

If you're waiting, like everyone, else to get on the elevator, stand just slightly to one side.  Do NOT stand directly in front of the doors.  I don't know what posses people to do this, but for fucks sake, how am I supposed to get out of the bloody thing if you're standing there?  Yet every time I have need to use one, there you people are, like Elevator Zombies, crowding the door, clamoring to get in.  It won't leave without you, I promise.  Wait for everyone IN the elevator to EXIT the elevator, then calmly enter.

Riding:

Once inside the elevator, press the required button, stand quietly and wait for your floor.  Don't try to talk to me, don't try and use your cellphone, don't sneeze/burp/fart/cough or make any other unsavory noises.  Just. Stand. Still.  No one in the elevator with you wants to hear about why you're there.  We don't care.

Exiting:

Now, if someone tries to come in the elevator as you're trying to get out, run them the fuck over.  They deserve it, and remember, they aren't human, they're Elevator Zombies.  Straight arm the pricks right in the nose, then kick 'em in the guts while they're laying on the ground bleeding.  Step over the body with your belongings and proceed wherever it is that you're going.  And remember, we don't care where that is!