Month: January 2012

Spam is funny

I was just reading my spam messages, and I have to admit, some of them are pretty funny. I just got this one from some  company that sells Halloween lingerie.  The comment was quite nice, stating that I should enter a blog contest online and they would vote for me, but when I reviewed their page, it was the next thing to a porn site. Can’t leave that on my blog, this is a PG rated blog you know!

I get other stuff too, like comments from the Bucket Truck Company of America, stating that bucket trucks are what I need to make my life complete. All this time, and I never made the connection: Bucket Trucks=happiness. Who knew?

Some of the spam is written in some foreign language that I not dare to guess, but if I could read it, it may just be a positive comment. Nice to see that those who speak foreign languages read my blog too. Hope my ‘newfenglish’ doesn’t confuse anyone.




2500 Hits…I did it

This goes beyond my wildest dreams, that 2500 people read my work. In the past, I used to have to force my writings on family members, so thank heavens for word press! People are actually reading my work on purpose! Who knew??

I would like to thank all those who have dropped by to see my daily posts. I hope you enjoyed reading them half as much as I enjoyed writing the stuff.

Do you want cheese on your steak and cheese

Today I decided to eat healthy (for a change). I dropped into Subway to check out their latest offerings. I have this thing where I always eat the newest sub they offer. I know, weird, but hey, I like variety. My missus eats the same sub every time we go to Subway, but call it adventurous, or just call it insane, but oh well.

The special of the day was the latest sub they had to offer, the Steak ‘n Bacon with Cheese. The picture looked great, and that’s the one I wanted, so I went ahead and ordered it. The thing I love about Subway is that you tell the ‘Sandwich Artist’ what you want and they make it for you, no questions asked. The guy must have been new because he annoyed the hell out of me while making my sandwich.

“Whatchuwantonit”, he said, in one word without breaking for air. I said I wanted the same sub that is on the sign over his head. He looked at the ad that hung over him and asked “youwanbacon”? “Is it on the sign? if it is, I want it” I replied.

“youwancheese” God, this guy had his tongue pierced and a huge marble ring attached to it, and it did hell for his linguistics. “Is cheese on the sign?” “youwanlettuz”? “The Sign…Look at the damn sign. I want that sub, so yes I want lettuce, I want cheese, I want bacon.”

“Youwansteak”? He asked “Steak? This is a damn steak, bacon, and cheese sub dummy!” “READ THE SIGN”

There is another sign on the wall, next to the one this idiot was not reading properly.

“Eat Subway, It’s the Healthy Choice”

What is healthy about a heart attack? Thats what this dumbass was about to give me!

When I finally got  my sub, I admit it was good, but all this grief when there was a sign directly above the guy..GOD!!!

me: a list

I have been blogging for about two years, made about 140 or so posts, most of them autobiographical.  I wrote some things that got lots of attention, and some that got none, it doesn’t really matter actually, I write because I love to write. In this post, I will link to a few of my favorites: the ones that got the least attention, but meant the most to me. Without further ado, here is my top eleven list of my favs.


5 easy questions to answer

Working in a high school, I get a thousand questions thrown at me every day. Here is a list of some of the best:

  1. What do you want to be when you grow up? Grow up? I am 48 years old….Who ever said I wanted to grow up?
  2. What do you do all day, besides sit on your ass at the computer? (this one was asked to me by a kid here at the school this morning.) Besides sit on my ass? I get up to make tea a few times each day, other than that, I mostly sit on my ass in front of the computer.
  3. Do you really get paid to write the blog you are working on? Well, seeing how I am sitting in front of you, writing my blog, and still getting paid, I guess the answer is ‘Yes’
  4. Do you mind if we roll a joint in your office? While I don’t really give a rat’s ass if you kill the remaining brain cells in that thing you call a head, I don’t think the principal, who is standing next to the open door in this office, listening to you ask that question, approves of it.
  5. What do you do when you are not here at work? That one is easy, I sit on my ass in front of my computer at home.

My Uncle the Outlaw

You read about those guys all the time, they are always on the news, hell, they even make movies and write songs about them. Outlaws.

My Uncle Joe was one such outlaw. While he didn’t take to shooting anyone with a gun, he certainly lived outside the law, and while he may have broken a few (well maybe a lot) of laws, he didn’t hurt anyone and he was always a great provider to his seven kids and loving wife.

Joe’s name usually causes wildlife officers to break into a heavy sweat, and may just send a few of them into therapy, but he always had a good laugh doing what he loved most, and that was living the life he chose.

Joe liked to poach anything, rabbits, moose, and especially salmon, and he would share his catch with anyone who wanted a feed. He knew the best places to find salmon, both in season and not, and he always had a deep freeze filled with fresh moose and caribou.

Joe lived his life on the edge, partially due to a defective heart that caused him weekly, sometimes daily heart attacks, but he never let this stop him. He was born with particularly small veins, and they clogged from time to time, probably due to his smoking habit. His drinking probably didn’t help either.

I remember on one occasion, Joe had just returned from a hunt. Moose hunting season was about to take place in just two weeks, so I guess he decided to get his early. Someone from the community called the wildlife department to report a poaching incident, and they pointed out Joe as the culprit.

Living in a small community, and owning one of those police radio scanners, he found out early that they were coming for him. While he had a freezer, it was filled with meat from previous hunts in previous years, so he had no room for the moose he had just brought home. Knowing the police and wildlife officers were on the way to seize the moose he poached, and possibly lock him up, he stuffed the young moose in the attic, through a small door he had cut in the ceiling.

Just when all of the moose was hidden in the attic, a knock came on the door. It was two mounties and the game warden, armed with the usual handguns strapped to their side and a search warrant. As cocky as my uncle was, he not only invited them in, he also offered them a cup of tea and some hot molasses buns his wife had just baked.

You could say a lot about my Uncle Joe, but he was a friendly character for sure. The law enforcers refused the kindness of my poacher uncle and went straight through the house, searching in every nook and crack, looking for the moose.

When they finished their search, the officials ended up in the kitchen, standing in front of my uncle, and directly under the moose that was hidden in the attic. This was September, and it was hot, and in just a few moments, fresh blood from the moose began dripping from the attic, a few inches behind the officers. When my uncle noticed the dripping blood, he got so scared, he took a heart attack. Both the officers and the warden immediately reacted, carried Joe to the car, and rushed him to the Emergency ward at the hospital.

My other uncles then went to Joe’s house, and removed the moose from the attic, cleaned the house, and proceeded to pack the moose in freezer wrap and into their freezers for safe keeping. The officers returned the next day to resume their search, found nothing, apologized to both my Uncle and my Aunt, and sat and enjoyed the molasses buns they were offered the previous day. “We know you had moose here, we know you, you bugger” One of the officers said. My Uncle just laughed.

There was another time where Uncle Joe was out fishing in a popular salmon river in the area. The law states that you must have a salmon license, you must only use salmon flies, and you must release any salmon over a certain weight. Uncle Joe didn’t particularly care for those rules, so he made up his own rules.

Joe was on the river, wearing his hip waders and casting his salmon line out as far as he could. He had 20 lb test line on his reel, and a hook loaded with worms. He had a salmon license taped to his fishing hat, which was covered with various types of ‘legal’ salmon flies. Just as he hooked a beauty, an Atlantic salmon weighing over twenty pounds, he heard the game warden walking through the thick alders. My Uncle chose this particular fishing hole not only due to the amount of salmon he knew were here, but also due to the underbrush, tuckamores, and alders that act like an alarm for the keen ears of my uncle.

When he seen that the salmon was firmly hooked to his rod, he flicked the line towards the woods, letting go of the handle, and he watched the salmon, his worm filled hook, his two hundred dollar rod and even more expensive reel fly behind him and more importantly, behind the two oncoming game wardens. When they finally reached him, he had been sitting peacefully on the river bank, eating a sandwich and drinking a cup of water from the river. “We know you are here poaching, we know you well.” the wildlife officers said.  “prove it” said my uncle, as he offered them a bite to eat.

He got off again. Uncle Joe always took pride in fooling the game wardens, and he did it many times. In fact, he was never caught by any of them. He was like a Newfoundland version of the Dukes of Hazzard, and he was well known by everyone, including the game wardens in the area. Despite not being able to catch the man doing anything wrong, Uncle Joe considered the wardens good men, and even invited a few of them to parties he threw each year. A few of them went to the parties, and feasted on the moose they couldn’t catch him poaching.

He continued his outlaw ways throughout his life, and thousands of adventures and almost run-ins with the law later, he finally quit. He was snaring rabbits out of season in 2009 when he suffered a serious heart attack four miles from his home. He rode all the way home on his atv, while having a heart attack, crawled up the stairs to his home, and died at the feet of his wife. The community took this very hard as despite his outlaw ways, he was a great dad to his kids, a loving husband to his wife, a great uncle to me, and a very good provider of fresh meat, fish and anything else he could find that someone may have needed.

I spoke to a wildlife officer the other day, and I asked him if he remembered my Uncle Joe. The man began shaking uncontrollably. “That rascal, I chased him four miles down a woods road, on foot, while he carried a quarter of caribou on his shoulders. When I finally caught up to him, he was sitting on a rock, having a sandwich.” He said. “The bugger even offered me a piece, and it was caribou!” Sounds like my uncle.

our justice system and teens

This is western Newfoundland, not Halifax or even St. John’s, but this incident sends the message all too clear that our justice system needs work.

A 16 yr old chooses to shoot his pellet gun at a school bus filled with children, and the police MAY lay a charge of damage to property.  Damage to property??? What about reckless endangerment? What will they tell the kid? “Great decision to use a pellet gun instead of a Bazooka there Son”???

If a kid decides to shoot his pellet gun towards a tree or a target or even a building, at least nobody will get hurt, but the bus was filled with small children, and a window was shattered by the pellet, so I think a greater charge should be warranted, or the next time this teen thinks of shooting at a bus, he may just use a more powerful firearm.

The Trusting and The Dumb

I was just at the mall, where I noticed either the most trusting human being on the planet, or the dumbest. This guy, who was only carrying a bag of groceries and had a free hand, walked blindly into the door at the exit of the mall. A bruise was quick to form on his forehead, and on the bridge of his nose.

I asked whether he was okay, and his words were “I thought it was an automatic door”. “I thought it would open as I approached it”.  He must have thought he was on Star Trek!!!

Sometimes I have to wonder whether we take too many things for granted these days. To some extent, technology has made us less intelligent. For instance, without remote controls we cannot change television channels. Without spell check, we cannot write a letter. Without coffee makers or the local coffee shop we do without our caffeine intake and go around cranky all day.

Our children know only computer games, and when introduced to board games (which is always my goal here at work), they act like you have introduced them to a new form of entertainment.

We cannot do without our cell phones, ipads, laptops, ereaders, etc.

Kids cannot do math without calculators, they never heard of figuring things out in their heads, and perish the thought of using a pen and paper to work out a problem.

One has to wonder what would happen if all electronics stopped working. Would we get lost in mazes like low intelligence lab mice?

Where are we as a civilization when we have evolved so much that we cannot function?

I do not have the answer, but the guy who just walked into a closed door certainly does not help the problem.

I want a kagillion dollars too

P Diddy sued for One Trillion dollars and accused of causing 9/11

This is insane. Some woman is suing rapper Diddy for One Trillion dollars and accusing the guy of causing 9/11. Apparently, he has her poker chip, which is supposed to be worth A ZILLION Dollars. I didn’t know the term “zillion’ was an actual monetary term, but leave it to a lawyer to try anyway.

The woman claims that he fathered her baby, and somehow knocked the world trade center down.

This is hilarious that this story even made the news, let alone warrants some judge of actually taking the story serious. Where are we headed when stories like this make the news?