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from Halifax, Nova Scotia

  • Activity

    • I love gloom

      6 years ago


      I've been reading a book about the Industrial Revolution in England during the 19th century. I've gotta say, I'm really starting to dig the whole Victorian aesthetic.

      Factories belching smoke into grey skies, down-trodden workers trudging between unpleasant homes and unpleasant jobs. Rampant crime, drug abuse, filth in the streets.

      It's a lot like Nova Scotia, really. Except the Victorians had money and an empire.

    • The Swedish are coming!

      6 years ago


      I am convinced that Sweden has a hidden agenda of world domination. And I'm not talking about military power or empire building. No, no. It's much more insidious than that, my friends. Slowly but surely, Swedish culture is absorbing ours. Want proof? Okay.

      This process started in the 70's, with ABBA. Nowadays, examples of the Swedish menace are everywhere. In music, there are rock bands like the Vines and the Hellacopters, and metal bands like Soilwork, In Flames, and Dark Tranquility.

      In literature and cinema, there are the Millennium trilogy and the Wallander books, and the films and TV series based off them.

      Video games? One word: Minecraft.

      And, of course, let us not forget IKEA.

      You starting to get it now? I could go on, but I don't think I need to. In twenty years, we'll all be celebrating Walpurgis Night and drinking aquavit! And let me tell you...I'm totally fine with that.
      Sweden is cool.

    • Counting Crows (not the band)

      6 years ago


      Superstition is a really weird thing. It can make rational people behave in,shall we say, unusual ways.

      My mother is one of the sanest and most logical people I know, and even she has a ritual. Every time she spills salt, she takes some and throws it over her shoulder.

      I think it's fascinating to find out where these beliefs come from. In the case of my mom, she picked it up from her grandmother, and I have no doubt that her grandmother brought it over from some rural village in southern England.

      Salt was believed to ward off evil spirits, and it (among other things) was used by people whose belief in a terrible hell was mixed with fairies and little people of ancient folk religions. That's how salt throwing came to be, if I had to guess.

      When it comes to spirituality, I am the most jaded, skeptical, and materialistic bastard on planet Earth.
      Yet, every time I go for a walk, and see a crow, I remember this rhyme from my childhood: "One crow sorrow, two crows joy."

      So I stop in my tracks, and I neurotically look for that second crow. What can I say? This stuff is hard to unlearn.

      So, why exactly am I sharing my musings on superstition with you? Well, I happened to notice that I have 13 friends now. 13! I am jinxed! Send me your requests and SAVE ME!

    • People with weird tastes

      6 years ago


      I've noticed a strange phenomenon around my neighbourhood. Apparently, someone, on behalf the entire street, has hired an exterior decorator to re-design everyone's lawn.

      This mysterious decorator had made some very strange choices. He (or she) seems to be going for an aesthetic that I call "Chunks of Shit". It is exactly what it sounds like. Shit on every lawn. Shit in the middle of the road. Shit on the side walk. Shit in the garden. That's a lot of shit!

      It must be a designer. It couldn't be that people are letting their dogs run around off the leash. Could it? Nooooo, c'mon, man. That's just dumb.

    • Sweet Vengence

      6 years ago


      I watched the most recent AH Behind the Scenes. Gavin really does get the short end of the stick, doesn't he?

      I left a comment which said that if he kicked one of them in the balls, it would be fair. And it would. Just sneak up behind one of them and WHOMP! Frontier justice! That's legal in Texas, right?

      The question is: which one? Geoff is his boss, and Gavin lives with him, so going after him is probably a bad idea.

      Jack and Ryan are a lot bigger than Gav, so I don't see that ending well either.

      I would say Michael, but I don't know if Lindsay wants children, and it wouldn't be fair to punish her.

      That leaves Ray. Yeah. Just one kick. BAM! And, as Ray writhes in agony on the floor, Gav takes a rose, bites off the petals, chews them up, and spits them out!

      No matter what happens next, Gavin can hold his head up high.

      Edit: Nothing personal, Ray. I do think you're cool. You're just the logical choice.

    • What's Going On?

      6 years ago


      I went to the grocery store earlier, and noticed that there were a lot of police driving around. I didn't think much of it then; something probably went down in the 'hood last night.

      But now, I'm noticing a lot of military helicopters flying over my house. Could be unrelated, but I think I'm gonna go cower in my basement for a while.

      PS: Yes, we have 'hoods in Canada.

      Edit: One day later, and I'm still hiding behind the dryer. Should probably go up for food at some point.

      Edit: It's been five days. I'm cold.

    • Random thought#5

      6 years ago


      When it comes to home defense, the old ways are still the best. I'm talking about moats.

      But, in these modern times, water simply won't do. Your modern miscreant doesn't care about getting wet; all they care about is getting in your home. Also, if you live in Canada, like me, you'll get cold winters. Your moat will freeze, and your intruder can just stroll right on in.

      I suppose you can fill it with dangerous creatures, such as piranhas and alligators, but those are expensive. And again, Canadian winters, freezing...it would not be a prudent use of money.

      No, my friends, for a modern moat, there's only one way to go: broken glass and salt. Cheap, effective, and it sends a message: you wanna come to my house, call first!

      Just make sure you let the post office know. Won't make that mistake again. I liked that mail carrier.

    • Random thought#4

      6 years ago


      This is something I've giving a lot of thought to lately: what is the worst smell you can imagine? The most appalling odour ever? I think I know how to make it.

      First, the dead body of a large mammal is needed. For the sake of argument, let's say it's an elk. The corpse is let to rot for about a week. Then it is shoved into a septic tank.

      But, hold on. We aren't done yet.

      After adding the elk, we pour in: one bucket of stagnant bog water, one bucket of powdered sulfur, and one bucket of gasoline. Then you seal it, and open it a week later.

      You know you don't really feel third-degree burns because the nerve tissue is destroyed. Well, this would be a third-degree stink. Your capillaries would shut down in protest, and you wouldn't smell anything. Maybe. I'm not a doctor.

      Try to top that.

    • Family History

      6 years ago


      Amateur genealogy is an interest of mine. I started researching my family history about a year and a half ago. I think it's a really interesting subject.

      Here is what I discovered:

      My father's ancestry is Irish, French, and German; my mother's is mostly Scottish, with a little bit of English.

      Part of my mother's family came to Canada from New England and upstate New York after the American Revolution, and my ancestors on that side were some of the earliest English people to settle the Americas.

      And, most interesting, through both my parents, I am supposedly a descendent of two different British kings. My father's ancestor is Charles II (the one who got his head chopped of in the English Civil War).
      My mother's is Edward IV, which means I am also a descendent of King John (of Robin Hood fame), and William the Conqueror.

      Heavy, huh?

      Anything interesting in your family tree.? Let me know in the comments.

    • Random thought#3

      6 years ago


      You know what the secret is to being content in life? Low expectations.

      Let me give you an example: before you go to sleep, you tell yourself "tomorrow is gonna be a good day."

      Next morning, you burn your toast and overcook your eggs, your car breaks down, you get a splinter, you trip on the sidewalk and scrape yourself up, somebody firebombs your favourite restaurant, your old high school bully tracks you down, your coffee has broken glass in it, you get mugged by a guy with full-blown AIDS, and your TV explodes.

      What's the answer? Simple: just say "tomorrow is gonna be a day" instead. Next morning, son of a bitch! Hours, minutes, the transit of the sun. It's a day! No matter what happens, no-one can take that from you.

      Notice that I said content, not happy?

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