Month: May 2012


The lights just went out. Cell phones stopped  working. Computers are all dead. Even my kid’s Nintendo DS doesn’t work. The clock in the car stopped, hell, the car won’t even  start. What in the hell will we do?

15 hours ago

It was a morning like none other. The sun shone brightly across the mountains surrounding the little town, the wind was calm, almost too calm; hell it was so calm it was hard to breathe. All of a sudden, a large red cloud completely covered the sun, the entire sky actually. It was like someone painted the sky red. Just then, the ground began to shake so hard that trees fell to the ground and roof tops toppled off the taller houses in the town. And then everything went dark.

I whipped out my cell phone, hoping to call 911, but the line was dead. Where was my son? Five minutes ago he was right here by my side, but with this darkness, I couldn’t see him anyway. “Dad?” “D—-a—d!” His tiny voice faded amongst the cries and howls of the others. I felt my way around, calling his name until I managed to find a tiny hand, cold from the fear he was dealing with. Taking my son into my arms, I ran for whatever cover I could find. Where was his mom? She had left for work just ten minutes before all this happened. I prayed she was alive.

We found shelter in a small house in the field across from the parking lot. There were others there, but I could not tell who they were. The darkness was blinding. One of them started a fire, and for the first time there was light, but not for long. Apparently light was not the only thing lacking. Oxygen was fading as well. Whatever covered the sky was smothering every bit of air that it could find; and we were feeling the effects. Groups of people gathered around us, and everyone joined in prayer.

Was this the end? Was this the way we would all go? Would we be making our maker soon? I shut my eyes, and holding my son tightly in my arms while he sobbed lightly, I too prayed. After all, what else was there to do?

The entire town seemed to be huddled together when it happened. Everyone fell into a deep sleep; well almost everyone. I was wide awake. Whatever was happening to the townspeople, causing them to lie down and accept whatever has happened here, I was not one of them, I was not willing to lie down and take it. Still holding my son in my arms, I pushed my way out of the crowd and onto the street.

I seen a tiny flicker of light about 300 feet from where I stood. I stumbled a few times, but in a few minutes, I reached my goal. The light I found was from a flashlight that someone had abandoned when this all began. Picking up the light, whose bulb flashed brightly, I shone it across the field, only to discover that we were not alone.

There, across the field I saw it, and I know I will never get the image out of my mind again.  What appeared to be over one million lightning bugs descended upon a crowd of people who had been taking cover under a large tree The bugs were eating everything in sight, trees, rocks, even people! The bugs seemed to glow brighter with every bit of flesh that they claimed, and they were coming this way.

I ran back to the place where my group were sleeping. I tried frantically to wake them, but to no avail. With my son holding tightly to my shoulders, I carried him and we ran like hell. We were already in hell. Where to run in this darkness?

The flashlight’s beam was our only savior, as I noticed a large building just ahead. The door was swinging open, so I ran in, scanning the area for threats. When it looked safe, I fell to the floor, my boy in my arms, sleeping like the others.  I tried to figure out what was happening, why the entire world had gone dark, why everyone except for me and a million lightning bugs were asleep, where my wife was, and how I was going to get through this day.

Thinking I was alone, I was actually starting to relax when suddenly, the doors began shaking, like someone was attempting to knock the building over. I peered out a crack in the window and seen that everyone who had been sleeping were now trying to get into the building with me. I ran to let them in when I noticed that something about them had changed, and for the worst!

Even in the deep darkness that shrouded them, I seen it. Their faces changed. Their skin color changed from a pink shade to a deep green. Their eyes glowed red. The dark red cloud that had covered our earth had changed everyone around me into Zombies!

I ran to take cover next to my son, but he was no longer the son I remember. He too had green skin and red glowing eyes.In place of his teeth were sharp fangs. D-D D aaaaa D-D-D-Y Y Y!!!!! He called out, and then he was gone. He rushed to the door to let the others in.

In total fear, I took for the back door, and out of the building. I ran as fast as I could, not looking back, too afraid to look back.

The sky had begun to clear, but instead of a blue sky, the red clouds had left us with a light orange sky. As strange as this was, at least I could see now.  In the distance I could hear my son call out my name. Maternal instinct won out over fear, and I ran back to him, hoping to rescue him from whatever he became last night.

There he was, as normal as ever, in the arms of my loving wife. She and the others were sitting by a campfire one of them lit. Everything was back to normal…or was it???

When I reached the gathering spot, everyone there screamed. Some of them took cover behind trees, some gathered sticks and chased me. “A monster!” one of them said. I looked around, terrified that a monster may be behind me. I ran for my family, but they too screamed. I looked back again; nothing behind me, what were they so afraid of?

The crowd got up and ran for their lives. I chased after them, totally confused at why they were so afraid, but if it scared them,  I was scared as well. The faster I ran, the faster they ran. My son cried when I tried to hold him, and my wife; my loving wife called me a monster.

“What were they talking about? Me, a monster? How could this be?” I asked. “Your face, your skin, it shouldn’t be this way, who are you?” said the woman who I married.

With that, she pulled a broken shard of an old mirror from beside her and showed me.

“Oh my God! What the hell?”

Everyone around me looked normal, but my reflection, my face, it was green, my eyes glowed like Satan himself. I covered my face and ran away from the crowd.

What had I become? What changed me to this…monster they speak of? Why did I suddenly have a hunger deep within for…BRAAAAIIIINNNNSSSS!!!!

Like a hungry dog, I turned and ran toward the crowd. On the outside I was a monster who wanted to tear at fresh flesh and eat it, and on the inside I was in battle. One part of me wanted to ravish the crowd and feed, the other side wanted to run with the others, away from the terrible beast that I had become. When did I transform into this thing? Was it after the red cloud had cleared and the others changed back to a form that looked human?

I couldn’t have been totally transformed at this point because despite my inner hunger, I still had reason, and fear. Rather than attempt to eat the slowest member of the crowd, I myself turned and ran. I ran until the cloud once again covered the sky. It was then that I noticed something. It was then that I changed back to my human form.

I had to check on something. with that, I returned to the large crowd of frightened people. I found out that my hunch was right. There they were, battling one another, feeding off of the weaker.

When the dark red cloud is among us I am human and they are monsters. When the sky clears, they are once again human and I am the monster. I must work while it is dark to find a reason, a cure to this dilemma.

Just then, the ground around me lit up. It was the lightning bugs. They all but disappeared when the sky cleared, but once it becomes dark, they return. What do they want? Where did they come from?

The bugs  seem to like me.  they must,I am still alive (if that is what you call a man who is a man by night and a monster by day), and the lightning bugs are all around me, illuminating my way as if it were daylight. I have managed to win them over somehow, and despite the fact that they have eaten so many, they seem drawn to me. Maybe they are waiting for the right moment, but for now I need them. Perhaps they are driven by fear. Right now I am too tired to be afraid.

With the light from the mysterious insects, I manage to find my way throughout the darkness. No longer do I have to run, instead I can gather my thoughts and try to figure out a solution to this dilemma.

The first thing I have to do is relax. I know that there is a research facility a few miles from here, perhaps that is the first order of business. If my hunch is right, there are others like me who want to get back to normal.

I am so hungry.  The night  must be almost over. The sun is rising over the mountains and already I crave human flesh.  I had a plan but I cannot remember what it was. All I can think about is eating, feeding, savoring the tender flesh of those who are afraid of me.  My lightning bugs are slowly disappearing again. I think I was planning something, can’t remember, all I can think about is tender human flesh mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…….

The morning was a rough one.  They fought back, they almost killed me. Whatever made me into a monster must have also made me strong. I must be able to survive anything. Hell knows people fight back when you are trying to eat them alive. My scars healed in minutes. I know I must have taken a few of them, I see their carcases in decay beneath my feet.

This monster I become during daylight scares the hell out of me, thank heavens the darkness brings peace. My lightning bugs are back now, hovering overhead like a spot light, allowing me to see the horror I created during the daylight.

I am at the center now, I know this because they are outside the building, pounding on the door, looking for anything that is human or animal, anything that they can feed on. It is dark, I am human again, and they are the beasts now.

I walk down the narrow corridor because I hear someone tinkering in a room nearby. I find people. Not monsters but people. They too have lightning bugs swirling overhead. I knock to get their attention, and that is what I get. One of them turns towards me, yielding a large shotgun, aimed at my head.

“Stop Monster!” He says, until he notices that I am like him. He lowers his gun when he notices the bugs around me. “Ah, they found you.” He went on to explain that a team of specially trained scientists sent out the lightning bugs to find those who are human by night. He said that only those are able to be saved, at least so far.

As he spoke, one of the nightpeople bashed a door open, and the flesh hungry zombies stormed the complex, searching for the intelligent brains of the scientists, and for my brain as well.

…Between the horror of my former friends trying to break into the research facility and eat us, and finding out that only those who are human during the night can be cured, I searched the hungry savages looking for my lovely wife and my son. Although most were unrecognizable, I was unable to find anyone bearing any likeness to my family. Having narrowly escaped with my life, I vowed to search for them even when I become monster. I found a hiding place in a room that we barricaded away from the zombies, and as I and the scientists hid from them, we spoke about the plan and how we would survive this terrible ordeal. The night was long, and the zombies were even more savage than before. At least one of our genius researchers lost their lives to the madness that sought us, but finally the night ended. With that, all twenty of us once again changed to the monsters we feared most. Together we hunted, and despite my being more animal than human, I managed to search out and find my family. There she was, holding my son in her arms, protecting him from the savage that I had become. That is all I remember from that horrid day. When it was dark again, the remaining doctors and I gathered to talk about the plan. A serum was created. We all drank the mixture, created from the blood of the monsters and ours, day and night, human and monster.  “Do you think it will work on the others?” I asked. “We already tried it on a few, and they appear to be responding to the cure.” Said the lead researcher. “Do you think I could get some to my wife and kid? They need it, I need them.” I said, hoping to cure the two I love so much. “You don’t remember? You found them yesterday, while we hunted. You tore them apart and ate them.  The blood on your clothes is that of your own family” said one of them, to my horror.. “Noooooooo” I shouted, I found them so that I could help them, the monster who I have become took away the one thing I cared about in this mad new world…….


Its that time of year again..June Bug season

Despite the winter being long gone, many who live here despise the coming of the month of June. June is when those annoying flying beetles hover around patios, back yard campfires, basically any source of light in the night sky. The pesky beetles fly blindly, often ending up stuck in somebody’s hair, or in their face. I remember once, a June Bug landed right on top of my friend’s ice cream cone. She will never eat ice cream again!

The worst part is that the June Bug does extensive damage to lawns, plants and trees while in the larvae stage. The white grub eats roots and tunnels underground, destroying lawns everywhere.

The most annoying thing about those gross creatures is that they are not native to the province. They arrived here while the American Air Force Base ‘Ernest Harmon Air Force Base’ was set up here from the early 50’s to the latter part of the 1960’s.

This year, their calendars are a bit off. Last night I forgot to turn off the patio light, and in an attempt to let the dogs out for their nightly pee, about ten or more of those flying devils joined us in the house. My girl ran screaming towards the bedroom, hiding under the covers. We were fortunate that the cat was upstairs. Her quick moves and appetite for bugs ended their tour of the house.  Oh, well, early out, early gone..I hope!

University at 48 yrs young…Here Goes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I guess this is a perfect post to celebrate being admitted to Cape Breton University to work on a Bachelor of  Community Studies degree. I will be 50 when I finish, but obtaining a degree is something I have always dreamed of doing. I can’t wait to start! I plan on doing the degree through distance, right at my computer in my own home.

Whenever I create a post, a sidebar appears that contains interesting quotes. I had to do something with this quote because I find it to be so true. Enjoy! I used a photo courtesy of and the quote from wordpress, and entered both of these things into an online program called The Motivator (


If you aim to fail, you will always succeed…at failing that is.

My little guy started a new reading program in school this year. Using the computer, the child has to read and answer multiple choice questions on fifteen books in each level, and for every level he attains, he gains points that he can use to buy stuff. Great incentive to get kids to read. He was on level ‘P’, and with only one more book to read before moving to level ‘Q’, he had another plan. His idea was to re-read the books in levels ‘A-O’, and that way, he figured that he would have lots of practice in reading.  He thought this up because the only book left to read in level ‘P’ was one a bit more challenging than the previous books.

“I can’t do it, I will read the book, do the test, and fail” he said, giving up on himself.

Even with the opportunity to order cool prizes like stuff for his bicycle, he still did not want to continue.

When I was a kid (I bet you knew that was going to come up at some time) we did not have incentives like this. If we didn’t do our homework, we visited the principal’s office, and he took out the strap. (a foot long piece of leather about a quarter of inch thick) and proceeded to beat us across the hands ten times.  I am a great reader who is deathly afraid of leather straps…I even cringe at the sight of my own leather belt!

I told my little feller that story, and he looks at me and says “I don’t ever want the strap, I sure am glad I live in the future!” and with that, he read the book, with a little help from me. Tomorrow he moves to level ‘Q’

My $350 car

photo courtesy of

Back when I was sixteen, a guy down the road from me had a car for sale. He had bought the car from an older couple who had cared for the car like it was one of their children. The car was a 1968 Pontiac Beaumont SC. Back in the sixties, GM Canada produced Beaumonts in their Ontario plant. The car was essentially a Chevrolet Chevelle with a much nicer grill and trim. The car was badged a Pontiac and sold sparingly in Canada only. All this was well and good, but at sixteen, none of it mattered. I had my first car, and it was cool.

The powerplant was originally a 283 V-8, but the older couple removed the big engine in favor of a straight six. Why anyone would do such a thing was beyond me, but hell, I got the car for a song, so who really cared?

My car was the custom sport model, a two door hardtop, complete with black Naugahyde interior and a gauge package. It had a two speed powerglide transmission and although only a six cylinder engine, the thing purred like a kitten.

I was fortunate enough to find out who the original owners were, and to my surprise, they had the original powerplant put away in their garage. They  must have liked the way I fixed up the car, because free of charge, they gave me the motor. I was even luckier in that the old guy was a former mechanic, and offered to switch engines for me, if I promised to return his six cylinder. I agreed.

I had that car for about ten years. Having a good friend who painted cars, the old Beaumont changed colors quite often, going from the burgundy metallic it came with to sky blue metallic, and eventually candy apple red, my favorite car color. I only paid $350 for the car when I bought it, and after ten years of faithful service, I sold it for $2500. Talk about profit. I only wish I still had the car.

By the way, the car in the picture is not my car. Being young and foolish, I never took the time to snap a picture of the car.


My ’76 Chevy Nova

My second car was a ’76 Nova 4-door. While 4-doors were particularly nerdy back in the seventies, mine was cool. I had a custom paint job (well, not actually custom, my friend had four cans of green, each a different shade, so we mixed them together, along with some metallic clear coat, and applied the paint) with Cragar five spoke chrome wheels on 60 series tires (the old bias belted tires that were popular in the day) and pin stripes. We also did the interior in a cool crush velvet. The only thing not cool about the car was the engine, a straight six.

Nowadays, most cars come with tiny four cylinders and they are still cool, but in the seventies, you needed a V-8 to be part of the ‘in’ crowd. Again, I have never been part of this group, probably never will.

A few  days after my friend and I applied the paint, I was anxious to get the car back on the road. We tinted out the windows, and I must admit, the pimped out Nova looked pretty sharp.  I couldn’t wait to cruise through town with my new ride. Once everyone in town managed to have a look at ‘er, I pulled up in the food  store parking lot, a popular spot to show your car and meet girls…the most important reason to have a cool car in the first place!

A few guys came over to marvel at the paint job, and to find out where I found this great paint color. When I explained to them that it was one of a kind, it made them all the more envious. After everyone had a look at my ride, I took the opportunity to check out theirs as well, and the girls that hung around the ‘in crowd’. Maybe one of them is into four doors. Easy access to the back seat, I bragged.

I was admiring a Camaro that one of the guys had parked next to mine when we heard it. Some A-hole must have been jealous of my car, and planted his boot into the door. The paint wasn’t really ready yet, and his boot mark stayed in the door.

Being 17 and poor as a rat, it took every cent I had to buy this car, and the paint job was the result of a full year of savings. I lost it. Not much of a fighter, I grabbed the jerk by the head in a headlock I had seen on WWE wrestling, and not realizing that the guy held several black belts, I continued punching him in the lip until it swole out of shape. “Let me go, we start over” he begged. “In an alley where nobody sees us” he demanded. “No way, you will kick the shit out of me!” I answered, refusing to let go. A few of the guys who had their cars in the parking lot gathered around us, and we must have been quite the spectacle. When he finally broke the hold, he swung his cowboy boot at my head, almost taking my chin off. One of the guys in the crowd grabbed the car abuser, and began punching him. The car guys formed a large circle, and shoving the car abuser from one person to another, they proceeded to take turns punching him.

After the fifteenth car guy, the a-hole fell to the ground. A police car flashed his lights as the crowd disbanded, leaving me standing over the guy who ruined the drivers’ door of my Nova. “Any problem here?” The policeman asked. “He kicked my door, and he isn’t planning on reimbursing me for the damages” I told him.

The mounties took the guy, who could barely stand on his own feet, and dragged him to the back of their squad car. “What happened to this guy? Was he bullying someone again? He lives to fight and he is one tough SOB” The cop said. “Lives to fight?” I thought to myself. “Good thing I didn’t give him an opportunity to start over!”

The next day, I got a call from the RCMP. They said that they threw the guy into their drunk tank overnight, hoping he would sober up and have sense. They asked whether I wanted to press charges. I told them that if he agreed to pay to repair my door, and to repaint the entire car (since the paint was one of a kind), that I would not press charges. The guy agreed.

I was downtown with my friends, door still dented, when the guy approached my car. At first I worried that he was coming to pummel me, but he wasn’t. ” How much I owe you?” he asked. “I don’t want to be on your bad side, you have tough friends who are looking for me, looking to hit me more.” he said, cowardly.

“Fifteen hundred should do it” I told him. I am not sure whether he sold drugs, beat up someone, or mugged a senior, but either way, in less than half an hour, he was back, with my money in hand. I never seen the guy again.  The car ended up being painted candy apple red, and finally, after two months, the car was ready to cruise again, this time with a transplanted 350 V8 under the hood.  The fifteen hundred was more than enough to pay for the paint and the engine swap.  Ah the good old days~!

One Lovely Sightsnbytes…I mean One Lovely Blog Award

Despite having my in-laws over for most of the long weekend, it was in fact, a great weekend. The weather was awesome, (This is Newfoundland we are talking about, and for the entire weekend, we were treated to +20 Celsius sunshine) and it was actually quite nice having my missus’ family over. Her grandmother spent the weekend cooking delicious meals for us (which gave me a break from the cooking), and our son benefited from having the chance to spend some quality time with his great grandparents. They also got a chance to see how busy life is in our household.

Another great honor I was bestowed over the weekend was the One Lovely Blog Award. The Wonderful Wendy Estelle of Finally Wendy Wanders ( was gracious enough to think of ole SnB (well not old, middle aged maybe, but not old) when she nominated her favorite bloggers. I would like to thank Wendy, and to anyone looking for a fun and interesting read, be sure to click on her link. Despite being relatively new to the blogsphere, her posts are quite outstanding as well as very addictive!

As with any blog award, there are certain duties the winner must carry out. (sigh) So, without further ado, here goes:

I have to list seven things about myself (I hate this part because I am not the kind of person who likes attention…oh wait, that is one thing)

  1. I am not the kind of person who likes attention
  2. I am a morning person. What doesn’t get done in the morning doesn’t get done. Period!
  3. I like cats, but I only have one cat and two dogs.
  4. I love the outdoors, nature, and the ocean.
  5. I don’t hunt. I do eat meat, but I let other people do the killing
  6. I love to cook, and I never use a recipe. This often works to my advantage, but when it doesn’t, the food is a disaster and usually ends up in the trash
  7. I am a perfectionist when it comes to grammar and spelling. I hate it when people use too many commas.
  8. I have flat feet and buying shoes is a pain; fortunately I am a guy, so buying shoes is not that important.
  9. Apparently I can’t count this morning, the award only requires seven things about me, and already I am at nine.

The next stipulation is that I list my nominees for the Lovely Blogger Award. With this one, I will approach things a bit different. I hate chain letters, and despite the blogger awards being a whole lot of fun, I don’t want to get lured into the business of passing chain letters.  In an attempt to please the blog award Gods, my nominees for the Lovely Blogger Award are all the bloggers I have listed in my blog roll. (hee hee…now you have to visit my blog to find the blogger nominees, who all deserve the award as much as I did)

To link back to my nominees, please click on the following link  (

Trifextra: The Stolen Baby Scheme

Got to get out of town before I get caught.  While the baby black marketing industry may be booming, the consequences of getting caught are quite costly.  The two baby girls he abducted from that car in the parking lot was risky, but with a million dollar payout, it was well worth it.

Justin Sayers was a risk taker, he always was. When he was younger he was involved in a marijuana growing facility in a small town not far from here, and had the right to boast that he made millions and never got caught. He figured selling babies for profit would be equally as profitable; no more worrying about the high electric bills alerting officials, or trusting strangers to transport his loads. He would be delivering the babies himself, no middle man this time. Justin assured his contact person that he would arrive on time, and he would not be caught; he was just that cocky.

Justin made sure that he would not be suspected, by first bringing the two babies into the airport and leaving them with airport security while he rushed back to pick up his luggage. Nobody would ever assume he would be brave enough to place stolen babies in the hands of officials, not with the airport buzzing with police, in search of the two missing children.  He assumed the guise of a father who would be meeting his two children for the first time, making sure to bring along the baby safety seat and a large overnight bag. If the officials believed his story, he could easily pass security, and onto his flight into The States.

What were the chances that the security guard was the uncle of the two missing children? When Justin brazenly rushed back to retrieve his luggage, the authorities were alerted, and the police waited while Justin foolishly walked right into their hands. Justin learned a valuable lesson on that day: crime does not pay, especially when human lives are concerned. Justin also learned what happens when you enter the Trifextra Zone!

Cause of death: Stupidity

a guy from the west end of St John’s Newfoundland got a surprise when he attempted to break into a local business in St. John’s. Using his bicycle as a step, he attempted to crawl into a window of the business, when his bike fell over, trapping him in the window frame. This was the dumbest thing he will EVER do, as he lost his life while struggling to enter the building. Some people!  Still no cure for stupid!