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First World Problems

April 13, 2011

The whole concept amuses me so much.

Especially when I catch myself whinging to myself, and realize how first world whatever I’m complaining about is.

I’m packing, and deliberating on how many pairs of shoes to take with me is the largest challenge associated.

Candy!

March 21, 2011

Not to pander to my audience, (the vast bulk of traffic I seem to get is on this post about Soap Candies), but I’ve another candy-related anecdote as I strive to reactivate this desolate wasteland of a vanity experiment.

We threw another party in the house the other evening, entitled “Broken Dreams” and entirely themed around “things you wanted to be when you grew up, but won’t be”.

I was Willy Wonka. Man, that dude was awesome. I have no sweet tooth to speak of, but the job would still be the greatest career ever.

Anyway, myself, Rachel, and Adonia were tooling around town getting our costumes together and decided to stop off at Bulk Barn so I could stock up on prop candy.

While there, in their “Easter Special” section, there was a woman in sanitary gloves meticulously picking her way through their bin of knockoff Cadbury Mini Eggs and taking all the blue ones.

I asked her if she needed them for some sort of cake-decorating project and she replied with “no, they’re just for eating”. …Hm? She elaborated that “Well, the blue ones are better. The others taste like the chemicals used to colour them!” …Hm?! She then claimed that the blue ones were the “natural colour” and that all the other ones are recoloured from the original blue.

I politely informed her that a white one had slipped into the bottom of her bag and left her to her mission.

The party went excellently.

…Wow.

March 13, 2011

It has certainly been a while.

I should pick this beast up again, I think.

Mayhem

October 5, 2009

On Sunday night, the lads & I decided that the main things out house is lacking are ornamentation and style.

What key object does this call out for?  Milk crates.

100% awesome, the penultimate poor-college-kid furniture item, we needed milk crates, and lots of ’em.

And so, some drinks into us, we set out to see what interesting things we could come by.  We wandered well across town and behind some shops, where we obtained four milk crates and Keto and I found a half-barrel.  Jethe got stuck carrying our milk crates while Keto and I lugged this damned half-barrel crosstown to get it back to the house. I can be nothing but glad The Blues weren’t out in force that night, two blokes sketchin’ it on the streetcorner, trying to look nonchalant while loitering with a half a barrel on their shoulders strikes me as the kind of thing that might’ve attracted unwanted attention.

And at 2AM, I can’t picture us talking our way out of it “…Uh, see officer, I, uh, bought it on the Internet…?  And, uh, we could only pick it up now?”

“Suuuuuure, son.”

As I said, though, thankfully nosuch occurrance troubled the evening.

We got the first haul home, had a few more liquid warmups, and went back out for more loot.  On the second run, we had the magnificent good fortune to find a streetsign that had been uprooted by other more industrious mayhem-causers than ourselves (also possible: hit by a car) which we decided would make an excellent addition to our collection of odd things.  Again, Keto and I hauled the thing back on our shoulders, making Jethe act lookout and scout ahead to keep an eye out for The Blues or even just locals who might take offence at our procurement of the local signage.

We spent 20 minutes prying signs off the signpost, after which we imbibed further before heading out yet again to continue our original mission of More Milk Crates.  We headed the other way, hid from The Blues on top of a pub for a while (despite having nothing incriminating on us at the time, we merely figured they’d know our evening’s misdeeds on sight and we’d all be immediately Fucked Over should they spot us) before they peaced elsewhere, at which point we lurked on the pub for more time while a few folks resolved some differences in the back lot.  Blues returned, at this point, to tell the folks in the back lot to Knock That Shit Off, Guys; and everyone dispersed and we were able to resume our exploring and stealing.

We hit the motherlode behind a local resuaurant, who had four crates in their little smoke pit (as opposed to the more gradual accumulation of the earlier four), which Keto and I swiped before going looking for Jethe, who we realized had gone missing somewhere between us getting off the pub and getting behind the restaurant.

We found Jethe four blocks away, sitting on a sofa someone had put out to curbside, smoking.  Turned out that he’d become disoriented dismounting the pub, and heard voices he thought were ours in the direction opposite where Keto and I had gone.  Following who he thought was us, he was greatly distressed upon catching up with them to discover that he’d not actually found us, and too afraid calling us might give us away were we stuck hiding again, he opted to chill out on the first comfortable place he found and wait for us to find him.  Keto and I suspect he might’ve sat there all night had we not happened upon him on our way home.

Ontario

October 2, 2009

Uh.  Long time no update.

I’m in Ontario again, but just visiting for now.  Here for a week.

Plan was Ontario, Rachel, Bender in Ontario, Rachel, PARTY.

Plan is on track, too.

I spent 12 hours in tin cans with lots of people trying to get to Waterloo.  Adventure and a half, if you will.  Booked a flight from YVR to Kitchener, left YVR at 9:30AM.  Calgary for 20 minutes, Calgary – Kitchener leg got us to Kitchener in good time, at which point we tried to land, aborted due to fog, tried again to land, aborted again, and decided to go to the closest safe port of call – Ottowa!  We hung in Ottowa for half an hour – long enough for me to buy a slice of pizza – and then went back to Kitchener ’cause rumour had it that the airstrip had cleared.  We got to Kitchener, strip was socked in again, so we circled for half an hour, tried to land, aborted and went to Toronto, at which point they shipped us to Kitchener by bus.  I arrived in Kitchener airport at 9:45 Vancouver time – almost 1AM kitchener time, well past the 5:45 arrival time they’d been promised.  My (lovely, wonderful and massively awesome) ride Adonia had waited 5 hours for me before eventually heading home, to eventually return when I did make it to the airport.

Just to top all that off, Adonia and I arrived to The Manor looking rather like a sty – so we proceeded to take shots from the 40 of vodka on the table and clean the shit out of the house.  As we were finishing up, the lads upstairs begain waking up and strolling down to join us, before I eventually wandered upstairs and woke Rachel to come hang out.  By the time she made it down, the collection of glasses, drinks, and drink ingredients on the table rendered our cleaning job almost moot, but…  It was a good lasting effort.

Due Care

September 18, 2009

I’m continually mystified by the folks that call in without putting in due care and attention in advance.

Like the people who go to the effort of digging out their card to get our number off the back, then put it away despite the fact that we’ll plainly ask them for the customer number from the other side.  Or, the folks that call in with questions and the like, but have to put shit on hold and go get their card, ’cause it’s in the desk on the far side of the house, or in their car in the garage, or on file in the basement …

…Seriously, we ask you for your customer number every time you call.  Seems to me they should work that out and just have it on hand next time they give us a ring.

CLOVER

September 9, 2009

I finally get to add another notch to my coffee-nerd cred.

I got to have brew coffee off a Clover machine.  The company and their device are touted as the greatest thing to happen to coffee since Gaggia invented the espresso machine – the Clover box is effectively a very high-tech hybrid of a french press and a vacuum pot – intended to allow the operator to manually control with great perceision all three factors that have the greatest effect on the end flavour of the brewed coffee.  The barista has complete control over the quantity of coffee going in, and the machine can be set to any brewing temperature – guaranteed accuracy to something ridiculous like 1/10 of a degreeand the capacity to set the exact temperature to teh 1/2 degree, as well as the means to exactly control the brew time.  According to those that have such luxuries to play with – running a full pound of coffee through the machine and tweaking minor details at each turn will produce variations in the taste of the coffee as details are adjusted – one can find and hold to a sweet spot for any coffee depending on the end desired flavour and the profile available within the particular roast.

AGRO Cafe, my new favourite joint (barring, of course, Re-Entry Espresso) is down on Granville Island; Mother and I have been in a few times and I was thrilled to note their ownership of the Clover machine last time were in.  This time, I went in with deliberate intent to try Clover-Brewed coffee.  My first selection was their “coffee of the day”; meaning they’d mass-brewed it a earlier.  (Mass pre-brewed.  On a Clover.  SACRELIGE.) so I changed my selection to a Mexican so I could get the fresh-off-the-machine brew.

It lived up to the hype.  Utterly and completely.  The various subtleties of the coffee came through majestically, and the whole thing tasted suitably … fresh and clear.  It was something else, in terms of comparison to regular brew elsewhere.

I still prefer Espresso, mind, but the Clover is certainly a close second.