Month: August 2012

Oh my, I am some cute today

Facebook is the only place I have ever seen people take pictures of themselves (you can tell they took the picture themselves because their arm is always outstretched holding the damn camera) so that their friends can express just how beautiful they are.

I had this very vain gal on my friend’s list once (a friends list is a funny term, as I have no idea who half those people are, and where were those friends on my last birthday? 354 friends, you guys owe me birthday and Christmas gifts!) who would post a new picture of herself each day, and the fools who followed her would express how beautiful she was on each picture. My honesty got the best of me when I commented that she was getting a little long in the tooth. (whats the matter with people those days, no sense of humor)

People post pictures of their dogs in funny clothing, cats getting into mischief, and worst of all, their kids half dressed. Do these people realize that there are pedos out there who look for half naked kids so that they can get off on it? Parents, you have to protect your kids, not expose them!

I think Facebook has gotten way out of hand. I don’t know how many people have found out about the passing of a loved one through facebook. How terrible that must have been.

And the worst thing? Nowadays any kook can own a cell phone with a camera, and it seems that people snap pictures of anyone and without any sort of permission, those dweebs post the pictures on facebook. This must be an infringement of privacy if I ever heard of one, but people do it all the time.

I worked with a guy once who came to the province to escape a madman who was trying to kill him and his family. During a staff party, some idiot co-worker snapped his picture, and before he could stop her, she posted it to Facebook. The next day he got a call from the guy who was out to get him. He had to pack up his family and move away again. This is totally wrong! Where will it end I wonder?


The Wedding Gift

My friend used to claim that every woman he ever met whose name was Bambi was a stripper. I doubted him until I had the following experience.

I met a Bambi once. She was a bit of a case. Actually, she was a lot of a case. Although she was born  right here on the west coast of the island, she left home at an early age and worked as a stripper in Toronto. The funny part of this story is that she figured she worked an honorable trade.

It was at a wedding that I had met the girl. A friend of mine was getting married and she booked me to Disk Jockey the wedding. My friend, Carly, was a very naive person who thought only the best in people. Carly said that her childhood friend and maid of honor came all the way from Toronto to attend the wedding. She also noted that her friend had a big surprise for her.

The wedding was a traditional one where parents and grandparents of both the bride and groom were in attendance. A custom here on the island, family members tend to bring their children to weddings for the supper and maybe to watch the bride and groom dance together. Once the three dances were completed (bride and groom, parents, and bridal party), Bambi approached me. She wanted to give Carly the big surprise, and she requested I play a certain song. Bambi requested the song ‘You can leave your hat on” by Joe Cocker. I put two and two together, and with that, I got a gal named ‘Bambi’ and a song played at most strip clubs. I rushed to warn Carly that this may not be a good idea, but she assured me that her ‘innocent’ childhood friend Bambi would never do anything that wasn’t tasteful, and that I should put the song on.

The first chorus wasn’t even over when Bambi was already down to her stockings and bra. The old guys were falling out of their chairs to get a better look, mothers were holding their hands over their kid’s eyes to shelter them from the sight. Carly was speechless as she witnessed her best friend strip quickly down to absolutely nothing, and the groom, well, Bambi wasted no time hauling him on the dance floor by the tie, and proceeding to do a lap dance in front of everyone. I probably should have shut the music down, but Hell, she asked me to play it, and the bride instructed me to do whatever her friend asked, so I let it play.

The club’s bouncer finally got up from his perch and threw a table cloth over innocent miss Bambi, as he hustled her off the dance floor.

The bride, totally taken by her friend, and the groom knowing that he wouldn’t be losing his virginity on that night or possibly any nights in the near future quickly exited the club to deal with Bambi and her antics. And me? I was probably in more of a shock than most, as I had a front row seat for the entire performance. Bravo! Never a dull moment as a wedding DJ.

Last I heard, Bambi and the bride’s uncle were hitting it off in the city of Toronto. Oh my!

Whatever happened to take two asprin and call me in the morning

What you are about to read is a RANT! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

First of all, let me explain something. I am a type II diabetic. Let me rephrase that. I am a guinea pig.

Diabetics are given God knows what types of medication, with Heaven knows what side effects, and left to deal with the aftermath. Insurance companies shy away from us, it is easier to get life insurance if you are a leper!

Not since Banting and the other guy (I am not much of a medical history buff) discovered insulin back in the day have any major breakthroughs come about for diabetics, and now I hear a news report that the only combination of drugs that has ever worked for my diabetes is dangerous to my health. Not just dangerous, my Actos medication can cause congestive heart failure and even worst, bladder cancer!

Whatever happened to the years of drug trials a new drug must be put through before being released to the general pubic? I mean public…can’t believe I typed pubic instead of public… What ever happened to all those lab rats? did they get either of those side effects? And what is it about comparing us to rats anyway? The drug manufactures, they are the rats!
The report said that persons (victims) taking Actos meds are twice as likely to develop bladder cancer if they take the medication (that I have been taking for the past six or so years).  Reading further, it said that one in one hundred million type II diabetics are likely to be diagnosed with bladder cancer, but taking Actos doubles their chances. What is that? Two in one hundred million? despite those odds, with my luck, I will get that stupid cancer. Why couldn’t I win a lottery instead?

We need more research done  in the area of diabetes, and not just for type I, which seems to get all the attention. We type II’s are people too!

This rant is not finished. It will be finished once I get a chance to talk to my family doctor (Dr. Holiday as he is referred to…he is always gone) and I plead to him for a safer drug (if there is one out there)

For now, I flushed my Actos…hope it doesn’t wreck m septic system…didn’t see any warnings about septic systems…

For more on this story, check out the following link here

Thats all for now, thanks for listening!

Step right up for the ride of your life…

Me and the missus just came from the Amusement Park. Well, not actually a park, as the only Amusement park we have here is a traveling one that shows up in late August for a week, and makes a small fortune everywhere it goes. They have ‘specials’ for kids that allow them five hours of rides for only $39.99. That’s right, for less than $40, kids can ride for five full hours.

It doesn’t work that way though, as the line-ups for the rides take longer than the rides themselves. The rides, now that is a topic worthy of an entire post themselves. Most of the rides are over thirty years old, and couple that with the fact that they are taken apart and put together each time the ‘Fair’ (That is what the Amusement Park is called over here, although some call it the Circus??) arrives in a town. They were here since Monday and already the trucks are parked on the lot outside waiting to haul the fair to the next location.

And the ‘Carnies’…The people who work for the traveling amusement park. Most of them are in their late fifties and VERY OVERWEIGHT! I expected to see at least two heart attacks while we were there, as the guy who worked most of our favorite rides feasted on deep fried ‘chips’ the entire time we seen him, that was when he wasn’t cleaning vomit from the seats of the rides and from the pavement below the rides.

They should rename some of those rides. ‘Tilt-a-Whirl’ should be renamed ‘Tilt-a-Hurl’, as a crowd of kids ended up losing whatever junk food they ate prior to the ride. Luckily we sat a few cars from them, and we managed to avoid any unpleasant food items that flew through the air…thank Heavens. The ‘Tip-Top’ should be renamed “Please Stop’ as the ride is so old it clanks and bangs, leaving doubts that anyone will survive the ride.

Those old rides may seem pretty tame to anyone who is used to state of the art Amusement parks, but for Newfoundland, this is as exciting as it gets, which is fine with me. I hate paying to get sick. If I was going to do that, I would drop into the local bar and drink myself senseless, the next morning I would feel the same sensations I get from those rides anyway.

The cost of the rides is another thing. This year they had a new promotion. Tickets only cost $1.35 each. The catch? Each ride cost three tickets. The guy who sold us our tickets had to get out a pencil and paper to figure out how many tickets we would receive for $40. The sign next to the ticket booth is also pretty funny.

“No refunds on tickets, even if you get sick or it rains. We do not have weather forecasting devices on hand, so we have no way of determining whether it will rain after you buy your tickets”…pretty sketchy, don’t you think?

Oh well, my lady enjoyed the rides, and it is only once a year. The little feller (our son) decided to sit this one out for this year. He finds the rides ‘boring’…ah kids…


Just saying…

Kids perception of death

My six year old niece is obsessed with death, heaven, and God. She gave the entire family a laugh yesterday when she made her Poppy a surprise. My dad recently lost his mom, and his dad died back in 2006. Little Janie figured that she give my dad a memento to remember his parents, so she drew a picture of two people lying in coffins, with big smiles on their faces, and dirt surrounding them. She did this in crayon. Cute but a little morbid. oh my, kids!

She also chose to make up her own prayers before she goes to sleep each night. Just last night this is what she said…. “And God bless all the little kids out there, even the ones who will grow up to be killers”

what if…

I got a fright this evening.  I was on my way home when I came up to a traffic light. Once the light turned green, the opposing car signaled for me to turn, and I did. At that same instance, a teenage girl decided to make a run across the intersection. I noticed her in time, but only barely. I slammed the brakes on and the truck bumper came within inches of hitting her.

I had such a fright, I had to pull over and catch my wits. I almost got sick when I though of how I could have been distracted by the radio, the cell  phone, another car, or something else and not stopped in time. I would have taken a life. Even though she was not right in crossing in a no crossing zone, I would have killed her. I have had a headache ever since the incident.

One has to wonder how many close calls they never notice. How many times do we almost kill someone and never realize it? How many times do we cut off drivers who aren’t really paying attention, and call it off as us having the right of way? If we kill someone by accident, who cares who had the right of way?

Just a thought…

Randy and the business of ruining lives

I was at the local pool yesterday when a former co-worker introduced me to her new boyfriend. “Hi Ted, this is Randy, he is a good man.’

After the introductions were over with, I remained speechless. You ever get the feeling you know someone but you cannot place them? This is the feeling I got when she introduced him to me.

“Randy is such a good man!” she repeated, as if she was trying to make herself actually believe this. What she seen and what I was introduced to were two different people, as I remembered why he looked familiar.

Back a while ago I dated this gal named Carol. Carol was a nice person with a friendly family, all who made me feel welcome in their home. Carol lived in an area where there were very little work. The fishery had recently closed, and since her family were primarily fishermen, they lost their livelihood and had to depend on other means to survive. Her dad retired to his shed where he drank heavily, while her two brothers and herself were lured into the drug trade by a shifty community member who found out that desperate people would do almost anything to survive.

On one occasion while at a local kitchen party, Carol introduced me to a guy. His name was Randy, and he was the guy that introduced her family to the drug trade. It was doubtful whether this guy used any drugs himself, but he made a living out of employing mere children to sell his drugs for him. It was then that I discovered Carol had a drug problem herself, which stemmed from a party held by this Randy guy. He introduced her to many things she had not seen in her young life, a few of which proved addictive for her. I felt very uncomfortable here and left.

Carol’s younger brother was one of those easily led, and in no time at all, not only did he deal drugs for this guy, he himself became badly addicted to the same drugs he had been pushing. I hear that a few years back, when he could no longer deal with his drug problem, he took his own life by means of a rope.

I had not seen or heard of this guy in years, but when I was re-introduced to him yesterday, it hit me where I had met him, and what a ‘good guy’ he really was. I had hoped I was mistaken, because my friend was a truly sweetheart who had been burned many times in the past. I was so sure I was wrong that I almost ignored the conversation he had when she left to go to the washroom.

“You aren’t going to tell her about my past, are you?”  the scumbag asked.

“Is it your past, or are you still ruining lives with your damn drugs?” I returned.

“That is none of your business.” he said, just as my friend returned.

“Nice to see you two getting acquainted, did I mention that Randy works away, but when he is home, he runs his own business?” she asked

She must know what he does, and it doesn’t bother her. I lost much respect for my friend, who is also a single mom.

“Randy sells life insurance from his home, in fact, he has people in the community selling it for him while he is away” she said, innocently.

“Life insurance, is that what they are calling it those days?” I asked, all the while getting a look from the asshole.

“Randy, it is obvious that Ted is jealous of you, lets go home and get away from this loser!” she said, before I could correct her about his line of work.

Oh well, you just can’t help some people!

Rant 29…er..I mean Bill 29

photo courtesy of


Speaking of dicks, and dictators, one has to look at our provincial government as of late. Bill 29, a newly instated bill that makes changes to Newfoundland and Labrador’s Access to Information legislation that put tighter constraints on what documents can be released to the public, was the first step in ensuring that we know even less of what our government are doing. My question is that if they don’t want us knowing what they are up to, WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY UP TO????


Autumn in a no no for SnB

I hate fall (or Autumn). I always hated the fall season, always found it depressing. Maybe it was due to the fact that the summer was coming to an end and (UGH!) school was starting. That was when I was a kid. I still hate it. I just don’t have the same ‘get up and go’ that I have in the summer months.

A big part of why I hate fall may stem from the fact that I live in a VERY rural area where hunting season means hide for three months. I love hiking, berry picking, trouting, and just about anything the outdoors has to offer…except for hunting. I don’t kill anything except the occasional black fly or mosquito. Hunting season means staying out of the woods unless one wants to get shot. Now they want hunting on Sunday, the only safe day to take to the trails with my camera.

In past years Autumn meant the time when my lady left home to finish her studies in University. Living in a rural area means a ten hour drive to the Capital city where the university is, so while I struggled to work here in town, my lady left for the big city to attend university. Thank heavens she has finished and is now working here in the area; but I still hate fall.

We had the most beautiful summer I can remember. In fact, we were treated to 65 days of hot, sunny weather, far more sunshine than poor KJ has ever witnessed living on the foggy east coast of the province (I guess that’s why she is heading to Florida for a vacation). Just a few days ago, a certain chill appeared in our air, the first sign that summer will soon be packing its bags, and stupid fall will take its place. Just great.

It is ironic that my birthday falls in the Autumn month of September. As a kid, that sucked. Being raised in a next to poor family, mom and dad usually spent all their savings on my school books, leaving them little to spend on my birthday. “What? You spent all your money on textbooks? My gift is textbooks? I hate Fall!”

Oh Well, enough complaining. Maybe we will have an indian summer where we see September and October weather turn seasonal as well…one can only hope…