Saturday, March 31, 2012

Bullets, Bullets, Everywhere!

Just a couple more random bullets while I get ready for bed. It was either bath or blog - I can go unwashed for another day, so the blog won out. I really, truly will finish the last story - really, I will, because it's important to talk out the tragedy - but I don't want to tonight. I was BBQing tonight, and spent a good part of the day in my backyard, and it really was hitting home that my dear neighbour that I loved like family was gone, and so I just need to let it all be tonight. And it's my blog, so goonie-goo-goo, bitch.

-- Long time readers will know the goonie-goo-goo thing: From Eddie Murphy's 1984-ish comedy video "Delirious." I haven't seen it for probably.... 26 years or so. Even then, it was racy, sexist, homophobic... but certain parts were GENIUS and funny. Anyway, he does this thing about his drunk uncle always yelling "it's my house... it's my fucking house... and if you don't like it... GOONIE-GOO-G00, BITCH!" Why am I telling you this again? Well, one night this week, my dear daughter number two was in a.... mood. And it came out of nowhere. And so she was doing her "go.... just go....." whine and was trying to push me out of her room, and of course, I wasn't even sure where this latest freak-out was coming from, so I looked at her and sassily snapped back "no, I'm not going... it's MY house, so GOONIE-GOO-GOO!" And we both paused, she looked at me with puzzled wonder, and we both burst out laughing. End of 8 year old drama. She told me tonight that when she's crabby, I should grab her face, pinch her cheeks, and yell "goonie-goo-goo." Thank you Eddie Murphy. That line redeems your whole "singing" career. Incidentally, I saw the video for "Party All the Time" a few weeks ago. Man, that shit was AWFUL. Stick to your day job: making movies dressed as farting old ladies and picking up transvestite hookers.

-- Did I tell you all that my dishwasher of 9 years (she was actually 12 years old) finally died a few weeks ago? And with 6 people in the house, we ran that bitch at least 2, if not 3 or more, times a day? She was old faithful. Anyway, it took WEEKS for her replacement to arrive - thanks, Sears Canada. Anyway, last saturday, she arrived. And DAMN baby, I fucking HATE Energy Star bullshit! Hate it! True, there is no PST for ES here, but oh MAN! It takes fucking FOREVER to run dishes through. The thing comes equipped with a "One Hour cycle", which is supposed to be the QUICK cycle. And at the other end of the spectrum, there is the overnight cycle which is 6 fucking hours long. Why it saves water and energy to run for 6 hours, I dunno.... All I know is that I put the dishes on at LEAST 2.5 hours ago, on "Heavy" (I burned some shit on a pot - I may look like the lovechild of Guy Fieri and Paula Dean without all the fucking grey, but I may not always cook like them) with a hi-temp wash and sani-rinse, and that fucker is STILL running. However, as long as I don't have to take my plates down to the river to wash them, it's all good. But beware Energy Star.

-- So I went to FIELDS today. Small-town Canadians will know Fields. Americans? Picture an even more depressing version of "BigLots" or whatever it's called. Long story short, the store was closing, and my one kid was without shoes and wanted to go into another store with us (don't ask why she didn't have shoes) so I ran into FIELDS, which was closing out, and bought her these 5 dollar sandals she'll never wear again. It was such a fucking scene in there. I seriously wished I had my phone with me so I could have snapped pics. And then I went to get my son's passport photo done again, since his expires this year, and we went into CAA (AAA to you 'Mercans), and they were renovating, so they sent me to the "ink jet refill store" 2 doors down in the mall to get them done. my question is, "who the hell refills their ink cartridges?" Is it profitable to do so? He was literally refilling ink, and his hands were stained, so I don't think it's a front for drug running or money laundering. But what the hell gives? When my ink goes dry (LOLOL that sounds dirty in a way, doesn't it?), I almost get ready to buy another printer, since the printers are cheap and the ink is expensive. Kinda like how my daddy was rich and my mama was good lookin'.. LOL is that even the lyrics?

-- I started reading a good book last night. I won't mention the title. Why, you ask? Well. "Rox" told me she got this book, and the title was something that was what it sounds like when doves cry. Intrigued, I went on the Amazon, and got the Kindle version for my iPad, and read until like 2 in the morning. WELL. I knew the name of the author, who has written for a magazine I used to read and subscribe to faithfully since I was like 20. Anyway, I googled him to check out his other book, and saw a pic of him. And he's the UGLIEST fucking thing ever. When I say ugly, I mean UGLY. As in demonic, child-abusing clown hobos would look like Bing Crosby next to him. He's just creepily, delicately hideous. And I can't comment on the book because I have to mention how horrid he looks. It's that bad. And you know how once a year you will google yourself to see if you have any Google footprint, and the only thing that shows is the snarky post you made to a msg board? Well, I don't want Mr. Barf-Face to google himself and see "loved his writing, but boy he would scare Caillou." So I won't mention the book title. Those with my email addy? I can fill you in. Those without? I guess you should get to know me better. Goonie Goo-Goo Bitch.

-- Long story short, it's spring here in the REAL Central Canada. It's still technically March, but there is NO FLIPPING SNOW! This is a rare, once in 25 year, occurrence. I've never raked up the damage of two dogs wintering in my yard this early. My yard won't be a public health hazard for much longer!

-- Went to the "new" Tim Horton's drive thru today. What a freaking clusterfuck that was. It's one of those new-fangled drive-thru's where the drive thru line suddenly diverts into two, where you must decide which will be the road not taken. in other words, there are two order speakers, but only one order pick-up window. It's always a recipe or trouble. Today was no exception. We had all these errands to run, but we threw "jack and jill" on the dvd player in the van and went to Tim's, and we ordered 2 smoothies, 1 breakfast sandwich, 4 bagels, one oatmeal, one coffee, one juice, one hot chocolate, and one diet pepsi. What we received from the Philippines was all of the beverages, and a fucking SANDWICH. I was all "ummm... we didn't order this 12" sandwich" and then he asked our order and then started to make it again, and in the meantime we saw this woman march in with a bag and I said "she's got our food" and yes, he gave us the bag she had along with extra oatmeal, but missing 2 bagels, and I wanted to march back in there and demand justice, but my wife said no fucking way. However, she said 2 times that she didn't get to eat what she ordered and then she said the extra oatmeal they gave us gave her heartburn. How does OATMEAL give anyone heartburn? I dunno. But trust me, I had a whole letter written in my head about how my wife can't eat the deadly oatmeal, and while a bagel given out to the wrong customer might be merely an inconvenience to some people, to others, it very well could be deadly. Because that's how I roll.

-- Fuck me Dorothy, all I can taste right now is garlic. I made my famous "Dragonfly Salad" tonight. What is the famous JT Dragonfly salad, you ask? Well, you take a head of romaine, add chopped cucumbers, grated carrots, grated beets, a whole bunch of sesame seeds, chopped purple onion, sun-dried tomatoes, a crapload of crumbled feta pieces, and toss it with a dressing made of a mixture of olive oil/canola oil, garlic cloves, lemon juice, soy sauce (preferably China Lilly for the Canucks), and a generous helping of either tahini or sesame seed butter. Let me tell you, my wife and I think it's heaven. If you don't like it? Goonie Goo-Goo, bitch.

-- I must get to bed, unwashed, to read the book written by the ugly person. Keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars. If not? Goonie goo goo, bitch....

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

bullets of bumpiness....

So much to say, so little time:

-- The whole Whitney Houston thing threw me for a loop in ways that sound completely crazy. all y'all know how I love a scandalous celeb story, but the Whitney thing was the complete opposite. You know how I always mock those who "feel" these kind of things? Well, I was ripe for the mocking. Why? I dunno. It's not like I started each day listening to the fucking Bodyguard or anything. However, you know how I love a reformed-junkie story. And, back in 1985, I bought into the whole Clive Davis image of Whitney. As I have said, I discovered our Whitney just a little ahead of the rest of the world, which gave me bragging rights, and in my 15 year old naivete, I just pictured her as a beautiful girl with a beautiful voice, who spent her free time praising Jesus with her Mama and cousin Dionne. Little did I realize that Dionne was fucking with psychics and smoking the chronic. In my mind, Whitney just wanted to dance with somebody. Anyway, even after all the Bobby Brown shit, I wanted a happy ending for her. It didn't happen. And when she died, I just thought "what a fucking WASTE". Anyway, the way she died wigged me out. It sounds nuts to even type this, but the whole thing disturbed me more than it should have.

-- So right after that, we decided to get the hell outta Dodge and we went to Edmonton for 5 days. We went to the World Waterpark Twice, Galaxyland once, and shopped like mofos, and had a great time. When I did the math, we probably could have gone to fucking Mexico for the money we spent in Edmonton, but it was well worth it. I got to throw some money down at Aeropostle and Volcom, the Mrs. got to go to Ikea, and the kids got to unwind, so it was win-win.

-- And then... and then...... I've been trying to formulate blog posts about this for the past three weeks, but haven't been able to. However, unless I just spit it out now, I never will. Perhaps I should have done it when it was raw, but whatever. Anyway.... 3 weeks ago yesterday... I found my wonderful, awesome, crazily amazing neighbour.... dead. Long story short. My next door neighbour, a man who I will call... hmmm... "Calvin"..... a Korean war vet... .the pretty much NICEST man I've ever met..... died. "Calvin", who has had a health scare about 2 years ago, when he had a "brain bleed", has been living on borrowed time. Rachel and I both commented on how good he was lately - after his "brain bleed", he was a little fuzzy on things, but lately? Sharp as a tack. And his wife was out of town, teaching a sewing class. I can't remember when I last saw her. But I know I saw Calvin 3 weeks ago Sunday. We came home at about 3:30 that day, and we saw him open the door for "Lucy", the pastor of his church. Rachel commented that Calvin looked tired. Fast forward to the next day. We both come home for lunch, and I notice that there is mail in Calvin's mailbox, and his storm door is, for some reason, swinging open. Fast forward to after work. I ask Rachel if she has seen "Calvin" and she says no, but the door open thing is weird. Long story short, we watch his house throughout the night, and she wonders if we should bring a cake or something to him just to see if he's ok. I say that I am sure that his wife must call him daily. However, that night, I wake up in the night, and end up pacing at 2:00 am, walking in my livingroom, for no reason, and my dogs, in the garage, are freaking out, and I keep thinking that something is off. In the morning, as Rachel goes to work, she first looks to see if his door is closed. ANYWAY. That Tues., at 3:10, I go to pick up my kids from school, and decide to just quit work early and go home. WELL. at about 3:40 I see this odd number calling me, and it's Calvin's wife of 49 years, "Peggy", saying "have you seen Calvin? Our son has been calling and getting no answer." So long story short, I go on her command, grab their spare key from the hiding spot, and go in the house, with her on the phone, and discover his bleeding, lifeless body on their kitchen floor. With HER ON THE PHONE.
And that was just the beginning. I will finish this later. But let me say this: hang on, it's a bumpy ride.....