Halloween+Jesus?

I'm not a big holiday person, but I don't want to be a party pooper.

Is it totally disrespectful and vulgar and morally wrong to go as Jesus to a Halloween party (I'll only know one person there)? What about as a modern day Jesus, like 'Incarnate' style? The message it would portray is "Hey, you know..Jesus could come back as an every day guy, and he might even come to a Halloween party. I mean, he's gotta be well liked, and you'll be more popular if you go to Halloween parties, right? So keep your eyes open...if you believe in that idea..."

It doesn't really matter what I believe, but we can reasonably agree there IS a chance that Jesus could pay us a visit. We don't have to believe it to know the story and understand the possibility of it being true.. I mean,  no one knows anything for sure. We can agree, whatever his agenda was, that Jesus was probably a pretty nice guy back in his day. I'd pick him for dodgeball. So at this Halloween party,  all I would have to do is show up, be awesome (not difficult), and maybe I'd get a chuckle or two.

I'd really like some opinions on this one. I don't want to be offensive...this time.

My costume would consist of a nice shirt and pants...Casual. I may or may not tote a bible, and a classic name tag reading "HI My name is... Jesus"..none of the tacky 'Jesus garb' that I find really cheesy and mockery...it makes him like a mascot for his team when he's wearing that white dress thingy and red sash.


This situation reminds me of a renowned French artist in the '20s who submitted (under an alias) a mass-produced urinal as an art piece. He titled it "Fountain". People loved the joke and thought provoking conversation, but many people really disliked calling it 'art'.


But whoa now. Let's not debate religion or what constitutes art...even though a costume of Jesus crosses into both those realms. I just wanna know: How uncool is the costume idea?

Some people find even THIS representation offensive.

Such a touchy subject.

Why?

Comments!

H1Nwhat?

You'll probably hate me after this. That's okay. Swine flu will getcha.

I don't know whether to be outraged or to double over laughing at this situation-- whole Swine Flu thing. I would like to make a bet with someone who is getting the flu shot. If you get the flu, you owe me $100.55. However, if I, the unvaccinated wreckless guy gets the flu, i'll pay you $100.55. The odds are even because there's so little chance of the vaccination helping you, that our chances still remain pretty much equal! So I'll gladly come to you on your "deathbed" and remind you of our little bet. But because when you wake up the next morning suddenly feeling a lot better, you'll be able to write me that cheque without shaky writing. And Yes, I want cheque. It's more dramatic.

 Let's just stop and think about this. Or tell you what, go get in line for the shot, and  read this while you wait for three hours.  From personal experience, the one time I got a a flu shot was the same season I got the flu twice. I think this 'pandemic' is a joke. A sick, sick, joke (HAH. get it? sick?). Oh a pandemic will come, eventually-- the joke is thinking you can be 'immune' to it.

I'm not trying to sound like a conspiracy theorist or anything, but remember back in the '80s (no, I wasn't alive either), there was a swine flu scare then, too. More people ended up dying from the vaccine than from the strain that the vaccine was protecting you against. So..that means it worked right? I mean, no one got the flu! :D yay...!

Good thing we aren't rushing the development process and we'll get the vaccine right this time around, eh? OH. WAIT. Did you ever think this whole thing might have been created by pharmaceutical companies ? Did you know about 500,000 people die every year of the regular flu viruses that circulate the globe? But you don't want numbers.  Facts? Hah. Please.

The real pandemic right now is fear. (Quote that.) And fear is a valuable thing to a lot of people. Some Suits and Big Wigs stand to make a buck when enough of the population herds like sheep and buy buy buy. In this case, it's your tax dollars paying for your vaccinations. Are you aware that the Canadian government bought FIFTY MILLION doses from a pharmaceutical company. Wait, hold on a sec while I do a head-count of Canadians...

Hmm.. hey guys, we seem to be missing a few million people...like 15 million of them. Oh--no wait, as it turns out, uber-paranoid moms are so gung-ho that they figured they better get TWO just to be "EVEN SAFER, right? RIGHT!?"

The following is a transcript of the Canadian government contacting Australia to order the shot:

Canada: Yes, Hi, Australian pharmaceutical company CSL Ltd? Hey, buddy. It's Canada. We'd like some of that stuff you got.

Australia: Yeah man, how you been? Yeah I got some for you. It's good quality, this time, for sure..for sure. Sorry 'bout the last time, you know? But that's just how drugs go sometimes. You can get a nasty trip, or smooth sailing? Right?

Canada: No worries. It's all just for a good time anyways. So what do you got for me this time?

Australia: Well, man, I got a couple choices for you. There's one with an immune system booster, or one without.

Canada: well, why did ya make one without?

Australia: ..We aren't really sure if the immune booster (adjuvants) is safe for pregnant people or kids. But hey man, it's all good.

Canada: Hm..but the other one is safe for sure?

Australia: DUDE. IT'S DRUGS. Why you gettin all panicky on me?! You don't trust me? HUH?

Canada: I trust you! :-/

Australia: HUH? DO YOU?

Canada: Um--ye-yeah! I'll take it.

Australia: Man you freakin me out. Calm down. It's all good.

Canada: uh--thanks dude.sorry.

Australia: Good. How much you want?

Canada: um bout 30 million?

Australia: THIRTY Aw HELL no you want FIFTY, you hear? Don't make me come find you! AND YOU ORDER BOTH TYPES TOO!

Canada: Okay! We'll take f-f-fifty million! Please don't hurt me!

I guess I just think it's sad that we're gonna have to convert the Walmart into a mass funeral home after everyone gets their shot and then thinks they're safe, and then the side effects kick in. The regular burial services will be all booked up.

And the Walmart greeters will say: "Aisles one through nine for little boys and old people, ten through 20 for the girls and pregnant moms. Here, have a smiley face sticker!" 

And if that's the case, I know a lot of university students who will have to find free parking elsewhere since the parking lots will be full. That's a cryin shame.

PS...you know what's IN these vaccines and how they tested them, right?

Or..we could realize that we are actually killing each other faster through violence and bad driving and not wearing helmets and getting hit by SUVS (idiots) faster than this H1N1 is getting us, so it's not worth the panick. Don't believe a thing I say, but at least look into the data of that vaccine you stick in your arm. Not that propoganda, fear mongering BS. Check out the side effects, see who gets affected most by them. Don't just follow.

So the joke is this: We're all gonna die if that's how the virus decides it's gonna be, or the flu shot can work and we'll all survive this round..until the virus (or cancer, or AIDS, or a famine...or aliens) comes back even harder to curb our population numbers. We are out of control.

Either way, you don't get the last laugh.

I wish I'd invested in that pharmecutical company, hey? Then even if I die from this flu, I could at least die on a nice island somewhere, pukin my guts out on the beach instead of a cold, dank bathroom in Canada.

Ah..pass the ColdFX and a pina colada, please!

Bring it, I say. I won't ask God "why" when some pandemic sweeps through. There's too many of us, and nature seeks balance to correct our selfish populating. That's the way the world goes round.

Thoughts?

Spicy Song Of The Week

Go ahead and hit play as you read this...the player is on the left!


One of my cousins is feeling the blow of a first breakup, my best friend has swine flu (probably), and I just heard a siren outside. My sister is in AFRICA, and I don't have a Halloween costume. Such chaos and heartbreak and stress and uncertainty. This world is going somewhere fast...except for me, who is just sitting on the couch, thinking that since I don't have a test until Friday, and no assignments due this week, I should probably be booking a flight to Mexico, right? I mean, why not?

I think we all need to chill out a bit. Stop stressing and pushing and fighting. Just Calm Down, Please. So many people are getting so caught up in the little details, they've forgotten how to relax and just smile for the sake of smiling--and I say 'forgotten' with the generous assumption that most people once did know how to step back, remember their priorities, and slap themselves in the face to bring themselves back to reality. Life is pretty big. We all seem to get so freakin' confused by life. Like a dyslexic child eating alphabet soup, our faces scrunch up and contort as we try to figure everything out at once. Don't. Please. It wears me out.

The point of life has to be the questions, because you'll never get the answers. Right? RIGHT?! Answer me!

hah.

The World Spins Madly On

The Weepies

Say I Am You

Keep on running guys. All life long. We'll see where you get. I don't want to 'grow up', or 'smarten up' or any of that. I swear we are all gonna die of cancer and heart attacks due to stress, and I'm not down for that. I smile for the sake of smiling, because then other people smile, and that's cool. I laugh, I relax (granted, I probably do that part too often...), and I try not to bottle stuff up. I don't worry excessively, and I take it as it comes. Go reach your high goals, but do it with a smile because you want to, or don't do it at all.

Can we all just calm down this week?

Sersly.

Please Don't...

I understand that a facebook rant is a dime a dozen in the blogosphere.

So what? 

Those 'suggestions' in facebook are pretty irritating. Sometimes when I'm frustrated, I just "X" through them as fast as possible yelling "screw you facebook" over and over. Please don't tell me how to run my social life. Don't tell me who should be my friend, which bands I should be a fan of.

Now they've added a new type:

"RECONNECT with (so and so)."

What are you saying, Facebook? Do you think that maybe 'so and so' is wishing I'd write her a message so as to break some awkward silence that's developed? I hope 'so and so' isn't feeling offended right now. Gee, Facebook, thanks for giving me a social tip.

I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, so I decided to take Fbook's advice, just in case:

Hey Leah,

I know we haven't talked in a year and a half. I hear you're married. Good times? Um..I know this is pretty random, but you probably saw Facebook suggesting that you 'reconnect' with me too, and I knew that if we both just 'X'ed it out, then we'd feel a little awkward, wondering why we are still facebook friends. I mean, don't you live in Utah now? How's the weather? Call me if you're in town, we'll chill again...although we never really did anyways..lol.

But anyways, if you wanna delete me, that's cool. This ball is in your court. Laterzzzz.

Yeah...I hope you're happy facebook. Lame advice    :-(

And rant part two: don't add me as a friend based on these suggestions. I'll know that's how it went down, because you didn't send me a message telling me how much you've missed me or asking how life is. You'll just out of the blue add me, and then expect to fade back into social oblivion. No way man. You've now forced me to DECLINE your request, AND send you a message saying:

Hey,

I think it's safe to say that we've managed all these years without finding one reason to talk. I mean, we never even talked in highschool, so why should we talk now? And clearly the answer is "no, we don't need to talk" since you didn't have any reason to write me a message or even a note when you added me. But hey man, I ain't mad or anything...but I ain't your friend, either.

J

PS, check out my blog, read it all, and my band has a facebook page (become a fan!), come to my shows, and definitely buy a CD. 

:D

Aight? Cool. Nice to hear from you!

.... :D

C'mon people, Facebook can be a good thing. Enough is enough.

Let's not let it go down the potty. 

( HAH. POOP!)

Nailing a Hammer

Or is that hammering a nail?

Either way, I've been doing some serious work on fixing up this blog. The construction process added a few more features (or room for them once we get that far), and fixed a couple extremely terrible bugs.

>Much to my dismay, I discovered that on many people's computers, my music player was starting automatically every time the page loaded. I believe I have fixed that. If it's not fixed for you, please let me know, as I would personally find it very annoying to suddenly have unwarranted music blasting at me everytime I dare visit this site.

>Also, fewer posts are now displayed at once.

(Can you believe I've spent 7 hours on all this...until 4 am?!)

>the newly fixed up music player is taking up space in the brand new column on the left, instead of at the bottom, so you can quickly choose to listen to that Spicy Song Playlist.

(Listen, I currently have no life, so this is what happens.)

>The search bar works. So...Google your heart out?

You know how cool it would be if I could find a widget that was like a notepad or something that ANYONE (you!) could draw on, and it would be saved until ANYONE else (you!) drew something else?

THIS COOL.

It's crazy that I'd rather spend 7 hours learning all this garbage code and computer stuff, but showing up to school for a class at noon seems to require so much more effort. Or maybe it's that getting my blog figured out has tangible results, and a university degree...does not. Oh.

CRAZY story:

I lost my phone!

(Oh no)

...and then I found it!

(Oh good)

I know, right!?

My Litte Brother And Sister

This was written by my cousin Shaylen about my little brother and sister. It had to be shared.

"

Life Is Beautiful, and Heartbreaking, and Amazing.

My Little Cousins Are Amazing.
And It Is Beautiful And Sad And Sometimes My Heart Could Explode.
And They Are Wise Beyond Their Years.
And They Are The Most Incredible Kids I Have Ever Known And Probably Will Ever Know.
And My Heart Swells With Love And Amazement And Joy and Sadness All At Once.
He Is Going To Be Such A Genius. His Sense Of Humour Is Dry and Hilarious And SO Developed For His Age.
She Is So Cute. And She Always Has Ideas, And She Is So Energetic And Giggly All The Time. Her Bedtime Prayers Break My Heart A Little More Inside Every Night I Hear Them.

I always forget how amazing these 2 little kids can be. But everytime I see them, I am reminded of the joys of life, and how unfair it is. I am reminded that my life is both better and not better than it seems, that I have so much to learn. They remind me to be grateful every day for what I have, because that is just their attitude. I went over there last night, feeling really crappy, and within 20 minutes I was laughing and feeling great. They just have a gift, and you can't NOT smile around them. Their happiness is contagious, their view of life intoxicating.

I love kids. Especially my amazing, beautiful, hearbreakingly great little cousins.

"

Question of the...Lifetime.

Why

Facebook Versus Studying

In the spirit of midterm season, I made this terrible cartoon. Click the photo to watch!

Tell all your friends how awesome it is. Haha..just kidding.


Oh man. I promise...
no more....for now.

Blahhhh.

So that's what I have accomplished today. Test in 10 hours! What can ya do, right?

Reading Between The Lines of Small Talk

 Hey.

 

(I know you don't really know me that well, and so this might seem kind of random but I wanted to ask you out to dinner for Friday--or Saturday if you're busy... But if you don't want to at all, that's cool too. Well..I'd be kinda disappointed...but...umm...anyways-- I know that's pretty forward considering we are sorta friends, but things don't have to get awkward, right? I realize that it kinda risks our chance of continuing to be friends, you knowing that i really like you--well, I don't really like you since that'd be silly--not because you're not likeable...because I like you--but I just barely know more than your name.)

How are you doing?

 

(I don't know if you feel the same way. I don't have a clue what is going on inside your head, but I thought I might as well get straight to the point. Not too say I can't be romantic or poetic. I can. But I'm no good at the games, you know? I can't read your mind and so i just try to speak mine clearly. I am trying to act casual and not say anything too edgy. But at the same time, I'm totally trying to impress you. Oh..but I'm also being myself...not that i'm just naturally an impressive guy, because i think i am...which i hope doesn't sound over confident...or edgy. Even though I am an edgy guy...i'd like to think. Oh man. what am I trying to say?)

That's Good. 

(I guess it's just that since the day I met you, you've caught my eye, and I've liked you more than I care to admit. But I guess i just did admit it, right? Is that creepy? Is that weird that I've liked you for so long but never properly told you? Does that make me look childish and weak? All I can do is tease you and make you laugh and give you almost meaningless compliments for fear you might read into it if I told you about your eyes or smile. How you warm my soul. And then you'd pull back. And if you don't want anything to happen, that's not the end of the world, I mean...Im not totally obsessed. Or at least, not in a creepy way. But I am crazy about you. You know? No? No..Of course you don't know. Nevermind.)

Talk to you later.

(I never know how much to say to you)

 

Nice to see you, by the way.

Who knew?

I didn't realize there was such an epic debate about fonts. Apparently, some people HATE certain fonts because they do not follow the typographical norms and rules....

I can understand someone not liking courier, or being bored with times new roman...but apparently, Comic Sans is the most widely despised font ever to exist. Really? I don't get it. It's just a font. Go type something in it. Not that big of a deal, is it? There's even an organisation set on banning the font! http://bancomicsans.com uses words like sanctity and heresy and ignorance in their mission statement.

um. get a life?

Anyways, in my quest into understanding how some people have more free time than I do led me to this video, which I thoroughly enjoyed.





MAILBOX!

How To Make Tomato Sauce (A Comic)

A (hypothetical) confrontation between me and a grumpy customer. I'm not even going to tell you how long this took....Enjoy?

Spicy Song Of The Week

I am slowly going crazy. A year ago, I was lying on a beach in Goa, India. I had the best steak of my life that night. Now, I know...steak? In India? Well, for you geography buffs, Goa is a Christian province, so hey, let's kill some cows!

But now here we are, looking at the weather forecast and complaining. Midterms and bills and indecision. Let's all shed a tear for this grim place we call home. Calgary is gray and wet and cold. The social aspect to this city is dead, which isn't to say it was ever alive. If it was alive, I think it died when they got rid of Bonkers, with all those tubes and slides and nets and levels that we got to climb around in until --ouch! I got shocked!

So just remember, you could be living in a beachfront room for $6 a day, eating delicious food, riding scooters, and running a business that sells cheesy clothing to the locals.Or opening a Bonkers.

And believe me, you'd probably live longer without all the stress that we unnecessarily put on ourselves.

With that in mind, I bring you a song that perfectly describes my level of brain activity as we proceed through this monotonous week. It's vocabulary surpasses my own, and its themes are too deep for me to swim in -- I drown in this song. Drown with me.

Mannah Mannah

The Muppets

When my brother was 3 years old, I rediscovered this song. So I taught it to him: He'd say "mannah mannah" in a cute baby voice, and I'd say "do doo do doo doo". And he'd fall over laughing every time.

That's honestly one of the best moments in my life ever. What a great kid.

The Curse of the Holey Shoe! YAR!

It does sound like a pirate movie, don't it? Some pirate adventure featuring Johnny Depp as a cunning peg-legged sailor who needs a shoe for his one non-peg foot. But as it turns out, there's only one place you can buy a SINGLE shoe: and it's an island fiercely guarded by an evil black witch who threatens to curse the shoe of anyone who only orders ONE. Because it's just not cool to do that.

But I ain't no pirate. Though if I was, I'd probably have an awesome pirate name like Scabby-eyed Sam, or Cold-hearted Crawdad. Jangled-Jugular Josh. Or just Bill.

YYAR!!

anyways...

I wanted to rant a little bit. "Shoe Karma" is killin' me. For the last 3 years, every pair of shoes I've ever bought has suddenly and mysteriously gotten holes in them within a couple weeks of me owning them. Other important fact: I've never spent more than $30 on a pair of shoes... until NOW.

DUN DUN DUN

After slyly coaxing me into a shoe store to "just have a look around", my friends convinced me to ORDER a pair of SEVENTY THREE DOLLAR SHOES that would arrive at my DOOR STEP in THREE DAYS.

OUTRAGEOUS. I would never do a thing like that. Not this guy. I wear the shoes right off my feet before I buy new ones.

But it's all in the hopes that spending more money means they will keep the water on the outside.

So they arrived. And they look good. And I like them. But my feet are so used to being soaked that I'm actually psychologically tricked into thinking that I'm still walking in puddles. Dry feet? What's that like?

Also, remember how I needed new jeans? Well I was told by the fashion police that until I bought new shoes, I couldn't buy new jeans, as they need to be coordinated. Who the heck makes all these rules? I'm have no fashion inclination at all. Thank goodness I have friends to help me spend my money, right? Right....

Hmph.

And now, a shoe-themed song I wrote.

THE NO SHOES BLUES

By Josh.

Hey, have you seen my shoes?
Without them, packing's no use
I'm off for a world trip
But I won't let my socks rip
So hey, have you seen my shoes?

I found 'em and I put ;em on
(left on the left foot, right on the right)
I walked out the front door singin' a song
As I went to board my flight:

Shoes!
I'd go nowhere if it weren't for you
These shoes!
Keepin' my feet from a-turnin' all
Blue from the cold and red from the heat
Shoes, shoes, I love you with all of my feet!

The thing about travellin' and walkin' around
Eventually these shoes were worn right down
Sahara stole the soles
Himalayas heisted m'heels
O Lament! I Can't control
This madness, ungladness, and sadness i feel!

Knots in these laces
The tongue's all a-choked
I'd love to trade places
With a newly-shoed bloke

But i couldn't throw 'em out
Or just toss em in the street
I wore on these worn shoes
--wore 'em right off my feet

One fateful day in some sunny summer sun
I was trekkin' on concrete and havin' some fun
When I felt my feet burnin'--my shoes were long gone
Shoutin' "Oh! Ah!" and "OUCH!" I broke into a run

My feet took me fastly and far
Despite the stubbed toes (that no doubt would scar)
from deep in my throat i sang of my woes
in a melancholic minor key this is how it goes:

Shoes!
I'm no one an' nowhere without you
No shoes to keep my toes from a-turnin'
All blue from the cold and red from the heat
Shoes, Shooooees, i loved you--with all of my feet!

____
Anyone else noticing how much time I've spent writing about shoes?

Nick nick nick na-nick nick nick, Nickelodeon!

I have this tendency to stay up until 2 or 3 AM and it sure does make it hard to get out of bed in time for class. When I do manage such a feat, I have to thank my alarm clock for it's persistent effort. It is entirely irreplaceable/unreplaceable. Suffice to say, if this alarm clock was broken or stolen,....oh no. I just searched ebay, amazon, and some black market chinese imports site for my alarm clock---and they aren't for sale anymore!

LIFE! WHY ME?!

You don't understand: I've never owned another alarm clock! I got it for christmas in 1995. I was 7 years old, and my parents were tired of waking me up for school every morning. This isn't just any alarm clock, either:

Ok, so it's a little bit obnoxious and extremely painful to wake up to this ruckus every morning, but I've developed a reflex so that my hand pounds the Big Red Button when the tiny electronic 'click' of the sound loop beginning. I don't actually ever hear my whole alarm. Unless I forget to turn it off after hitting 'snooze', and then nine minutes later it blasts out its tune again when I come back to my room from the shower.

I find it extremely difficult to watch the above video because that combination of sounds makes my heart pound as I search for a Big Red Button to pound to plastic pulp with a palpitating heart. I've probably lost hours off my life from waking up in such a state of terror and shock.

To think of all the big moments and days my alarm clock has woken me up for. The first day of grade four, when I went to private school and everyone hated me because of my ugly haircut (HAH NO I will not post a photo), the day I got my license, my first date, my last date, my first day of university. Today.

I love rolling over in the morning and the first thing I see: my alarm clock, there beside me. Loving me unconditionally. Almost smiling. Ahhh the memories..and then--

CHCHKCKHCKHCKHCKHC 

--THREE--TWO--ONE--

 Okay. I'm up....in nine more minutes.

Man, I'm tired of bad drivers

Every day, I bike to school. And every day, when I go to make a left turn, the oncoming traffic stops to let me by. People, just so you know: THIS IS WRONG. I do NOT have the right of way. KEEP DRIVING. Don't try and be nice..think about all the smarter people behind you who don't expect you to stop to let someone else go. If you don't have a stop sign, don't stop! When these roads get icy, and a car unexpectedly stops because for some stupid reason they think a guy on a bike has the right of way, someone is going to have to slam on their breaks behind you and your car won't be so pretty anymore when they bash into you. And I will point and laugh and tell you you deserve it. But the guy behind you didn't. So that's not fair.


One of these times when a car stops, I'm going to bike right in front of it, lean my bike on his hood, and knock on his/her window and give them a polite but stern lecture about the rules of the road.

Make sure you know the driving rules wherever you live. Winter is a crazy time, and yet I don't blame the ice for all the crashes.

Dear world,

Don't be dumb.

-Josh

Mmm

I was on my way to General Studies (my favourite and most attended class), and decided that due to the dropping temperatures, a steeped tea from Tim Horton's would make it an even more enjoyable experience. The line wasn't too long, which made this an easier process, too. But for some reason, people wait in line for 10 minutes just to buy a coffee, and then they get to the front of the line and when they are called forward with an 'I'd like to help you here!', they are somehow distracted and hold up the whole line because they won't go order their coffee! Come on people. Pull it together!

So what should have been a 5 minute wait is now pushing 7.5 minutes (brutal!), and yet I'm still in perfectly good spirits. I promptly approach the counter and get straight to the point. No need for small talk. Down to business:

"I'd like an Extra Large Steeped Tea, three sugar, two cream, please."

"What?"

"Steeped Tea, please. Extra Large, triple double." I quickly repeat.  I realise I don't know which one is triple and which one is double. Is the 'triple' part of that referring to cream? Or sugar? Who makes these rules?

"Um.." she turns around and has a conversation with a coworker, which appears to be entirely unrelated and then comes back to take my money. I have already counted out the $1.73 in exact change, and am looking to get this done efficiently. She takes my money and I move down the counter. I receive my steeped tea in good time, but from past experience I know I need to stir it. So I open the lid ..and there's no cream or sugar in it. I explain my unfortunate circumstances to the closest employee, and she quickly takes my cup, dumps out about 1/4 of the steep tea, and adds the cream and sugar. The cup is still about 1/4 empty, so she reaches for the pot and fills it back up.

"Wait!" I said, pointing to the pot in her hand, "Is that steeped tea?"

'You ordered a steeped tea, no?" she replies with attitude. I smiled and walked away, thanking her.

I'm walking through the hall and decide I better take a sip before venturing outside to my next class. I crack the lid and take a sip. And stop. My already large eyes get even wider--so wide, that if we were at laser quest and the little kids saw me in the black light, they'd scream and cry (therefore making it easier for me to shoot them repeatedly and pin them in a corner...throw in an evil laugh, and they're scarred for life! MUAHAHAHAAAAaaa...).

Something was different about this steeped tea. Really different. Really wonderfully different. I smile at passer-bys, as they look at me suspiciously. What has happened to this Steeped Tea?

I replay the situation in my head, consult my taste buds, and come to an exciting conclusion:

That last quarter cup they filled my cup with after adding the cream and sugar: it wasn't tea--it was COFFEE!

Holy brown cow this is tasty, I think. I felt like I was holding a classified, world-altering secret in my hand, and that anyone finding out about this might try to destroy it, because mixing tea and coffee has got to be a faux pas to the extreme. People wouldn't only frown upon it, they may revert back to the 5th century BC and stone me to death. I moved quickly through the halls, avoiding eye contact. I realized there was a small chance that the Tim Horton's employee might have realized her mistake and come running after me to apologize, only to see me smiling as I sip the hot beverage. Then, naturally, she would be furious that I would like such a liquid, and feel compelled to call her rich uncle to hire hit men to come silence me for all time. So I was late for class, doubling back and making sure no one had followed me. I seemed to be safe for now.

"Hey Josh," says Jenn, a wonderful girl in my class.

"Jenn, I have to tell you something. I just discovered the ninth world wonder!"

"Um....what's the 8th?"

"Well currently, there's a debate whether the 8th world wonder is in fact sliced bread, or whether it's me."

"I think it's probably sliced bread. What's this new number nine?"

And I proceeded to tell her the story of this phenomenal new drink. I would not share it with her, however, because I was sick.

She didn't immediate whip out a scythe and kill me, so I could take comfort in knowing that there are some people who won't be terribly offended by the monstrosity that is tea+coffee.

All that was left was do name this drink. Then I could market it to the masses. if the name was good enough, I believed that people wouldn't be angry about the sacrilegious product.

teCofee?
Coftee?
toffee?
coteafee?
glorp?

These suck. Darcy suggested something more psychologically appealing. And then I had it:

Mmm

Yes, that was it! What better marketing scheme than telling them how to react to my product before even tasting it! Hahaha! I could almost see the millions of dollars pouring into my bank account! When I tell them about my product, they'll be inclined to strangle me, but in the end, they'll put down their razor wire and snuggle up in front of a glowing fireplace, saying "Mmmm..."

So consider this my copyright notice. I introduce you to Mmm, the 3/4 tea, 1/4 coffee, cream and sugar drink that does not give you wings, it gives you a rocket pack. It is the best part of waking up. Just watch out for the hit men...

Spicy Song Of The Week

This one is a happy, summer song. I assure you that listening to this song will make it warmer this week. I'd forgotten just how grim it gets here, having spent a good chunk of the last winter in India. I broke out my super massive poofy green coat today:

I know. It's awesome. It also protects me from any pain when I'm biking to school and slip and fall on the ice. So with that, I present you a summer song:

Don't Look In Their Eyes

Stabilo

Happiness and Disaster

Break out the frizollie, and let's have a barbecue!

nothanksgiving

Reaaally?

We take a day to celebrate what we are thankful for by killing it, eating too much of it, and then passing out because all the blood has rushed to our stomach to provide us with enough energy to digest. Wow. That's really ceremonious. That's respectable.

Now I'm all for big meals and the family, but let's gain a little perspective on what it is we are doing this for. And if you say 'giving thanks' or 'remembering what we are grateful for', that has nothing to do with dead birds steaming on the table. Seriously people, you eat this much food because it tastes good. Anything else is just a stepping stone to that goal.

Is gluttony still one of those seven deadly sins?


I'd honestly rather not associate all over eating and steaming dead bird with being 'thankful'. There's better ways to show thanks. And while we're talking about thankful, someone enlighten me: what does that mean, 'to be thankful'? Who are you thanking?

If it's God, or some higher power, then I get it, I support that idea. You are thanking that higher power for all that he has given and done for you.

But, what of the staunch Athiests out there? Do they celebrate thanksgiving, or do they just stuff their faces for fun. If they do celebrate, how can the be thankful? It seems like that's just an opportunity for them to pat themselves on the back. "Thanks to ME for my job, thanks to ME for my friends, Thanks to ME for my health, since I look out for me."

In either situation, we can all be thankful for the other people in our life.

I guess I just don't get what people's perception of this holiday really is. I'm thankful I got paid triple time today, and that I get to spend the evening with family. But did we really need to wait until today to make it known what we value?

 All I'm saying is, go stuff your faces, and hang with family, but remember that's really all you're doing. Right?


Mmmm...mashed potatoessss.


PS, I'm not a holiday person.

Flying Lessons

I was randomly creeping my own facebook profile, and rediscovered this old gem of an album. Thought I'd share, in case anyone out there is in need of a chuckle. I hope you like it. If you don't, that's not okay.

Show me 'Flying Lessons'!

(captions are essential)

I encourage you to view this album in class, as it will be extremely distracting for your fellow students.

It wasn't me...was it?

This is Best Buy's Stock over the last two years. See that massive drop around november/december? That's when I started working there. See how it goes waaaay up in January? That's when I left.

ouch.

Google Streetwho?

So I'm checkin out that Google Street View thing, where they actually give you a virtual tour of..the world. And naturally, I go check out the house I lived in at the time when they were taking all the photos for the Google Database, and discover something that temporarily blew my mind.

I'll take you on my Googleventure....

So I am checking out my road I used to live on with my family and thinking just how ridiculously complex it is that they've done this for the US and Canada and even parts of Europe.

My house is the on at the end of this gray line. So anyways, I'm moving down my road...

past that gray van....

Wait a sec..that grey van! I know it...that's my parents car!

I back up and zoom in.....and whaddaya know---

^^^MOM!^^^

She's, like, famous! Can you believe it?! Me neither!

Google, you be crazy!

Actually?

I took the train home last night from work. It's getting super cold, and I can't imagine enjoying the scenic route home late at night. Besides, I don't like getting hit by cars as much as I thought. However, I do bike to the train, as I avoid walks whenever possible..unless it's a walk on the beach or something like that...but if I'm trying to get somewhere, I'd rather make that happen quickly.

So I bike to the train and board it quickly. One station later, two cops get on. We are officially the only three people in the car, so it gets a little awkward. I suddenly get flashbacks of an two experiences that happened recently involving authority, the train, and Josh.

1

The first was this summer, when Darcy and I were coming home from an afternoon of largely unsuccessful busking downtown. While during the school year, we are provided with 'free' transit passes, we're on our own for the summer break. Naturally, we both refuse to pay. So we risk it, talking all the way home about how useless transit cops are sicne we've never seen them actually ask for a ticket from a passenger. As we approach the station, however, we are cautious because we realised we've probably jinxed our luck. Sure enough ,there's four transit cops forming a human wall, letting only checked passengers through the doors into the free world. But I've never actually seen them before, so like Mowgli checking out the cute girl in Jungle Book, I decide to get a 'closer look.' I actually get off the train to see if there's a way past them, and realize the futility of the plan. I turn around to tell Darcy the very obvious fact "Yup, they are transit cops, so let's not get off at this station." However, before I finish my sentence, the doors close, and the train pulls away, leaving me stunned on the platform. Shucks, I said. Now what? I froze, assuming the position of a tree in order to remain undetected. The platform cleared out and soon it was just Me and Them. I hoped my tree-like pose would save me, though I think the guitar on my back gave me away. One of them moved slowly towards me, and I slowly walked as far away as possible. Just as I was about to give up, another train pulled up, heading the other way, and I boarded it and escaped, the officer suspiciously glaring me down. Success!...minus the long walk home.

2

The other story happened this last week. This time I had a transit pass but my cousin Lena did not. I told her "please..the chances of them being on our train and asking us within the next three stops is preetttyyy slim."  Obviously, I wouldn't bother writing this out if that's what actually happened. As we waited for the train, two cops suddenly walked up and stood beside us. Lena silently died a little, and I tried to strategize. Surely they aren't going to ask us for tickets as we are trying to board the train. We decided to get on the furthest car and see what happens. The next station, they switched cars, and we realized that eventually, they would be on our car. The train stopped and we got off just as they boarded our car, but couldn't make it to the front car in time, so we were forced to wait for another train. 10 minutes later, we got on the next train, but I knew the danger wasn't yet over. They could easily have finished checking the first train and now be waiting to catch THIS one. Sure enough, they were waiting on the platform. We were forced to escape the train again, and decided to make the 15 minute walk to our destination. All in all, it was a half hour process to travel 4 stops. But it's the principal of the thing! It's simply wrong to pay for a ticket. 

So this cold night while I'm catching the train home from work, the three of us stood quietly for 3 minutes. Then they began to wander down the length of the car, and I scoffed.

"Actually?"

"Sorry?" they said, turning around to face me.

"It's the first time I've ever been in a situation to be checked for a ticket, and you're not even going to ask? I mean, you've got your clipboards for writing up tickets right in your hands!"

They were slightly confused by my attitude, and suddenly assumed a more hardline approach.

"Well ..yeah--Yes, we were going to ask you!" and with a menacing glare, he added, "You do have one, don't you?"

I fished in my wallet, suddenly realizing the irony that I might not have my transit pass on me. Alas, I did, and I showed him my student ID. He bent down slightly to analyze it and nodded. He almost gave it back, but then gave in and softened his demeanor again. "What is this?" he asked. "People keep showing me this, but I don't even know what it is."

I openly laughed at the idea that I should be explaining the law to a police officer, and I let him know how silly that sounded. He chuckled too, and I explained to the slightly embarrassed cop how to tell if the transit pass was valid. "It has an expiry date here, and another sticker on the back."

He thanked me and continued on his way, eventually arresting two fighting idiots at the next station. He at least handled that situation well.

Moral of this story is don't pay for transit passes. Just wave an official looking document in their faces with a smile and they'll be forced to believe it.

Sugar

Well I couldn't sleep. So I started typing, and here's what came out...? :



I dunno about you, but Jr High/Middle school was not a great time in my life. I can't remember what the inside of my classrooms looked like, but I can tell you who the cutest girls were, what time lunch was (so that I knew when I could stop pretending I was running an errand for the teacher), and what were the best online game sites. Anyone remember Slime Sports?

I lived in Colorado from when I was 12-16. Those are tough years to switch schools (and countries), and I didn't handle it too well. I was frustrated with no direction, alone except for my best friend...a homeschooled Baptist who I couldn't relate to except for our love of waterballoon fights, basketball, and our common lack of friends. I didn't even try to make friends for the first three years since I was told we'd be moving back to Canada in a couple years. BooHoo, right?

Anyways, fun fact about Josh. I'm a sugar addict to the extreme. For as long as I can remember, I've been finding ways to get as much sugar in my system as possible. When I was four, I would wait until everyone was asleep and then sneak downstairs, push a chair up to the counter, climb up and open the snack cupboard. Without fail, there'd be a hidden fruit-roll-up in the back corner. I would hide one there so that my mom would buy more before they were actually all gone. I couldn't afford to not have a sugar rush late at night.

When I was five I did that stupid kid thing of snorthing pixie sticks. I wasn't the brightest kid, but I learned after the first time and never did that again.

In colorado, however, this addiction was taken to the extreme. I became a candy salesmen in grade seven. I bought one Jolly Rancher sucker (watermelon) for $0.15 and sold it at school for $0.25. Eventually, I was supplying candy of all types to as many as 30 kids on a daily basis. All profits were lost, however, as I kept eating as much of the candy as I could afford.

I stole the brown sugar lumps from the kitchen on a regular basis. My mom would find wrappers in all my pockets when she did laundry. The dentist would shed a tear every 6 months. I can't remember not having a cavity. My face was brutally destroyed by acne, and I was even skinnier than I am now: I literally ate nothing except for candy and sugar..and healthy, balanced dinner that my mom always cooked.

I went to church every sunday and bought a 40oz slurpee to make it through the 1 hour sermon. It was always finished before the pastor stopped talking. I would wake up at 4 am to bike to the 24hour 7-11 and buy an "Xtreme Gulp" Slurpee---you know those massive insulated mugs that they only charge 80 cents for refills on? That was breakfast each day before and during school. That's almost a 2 liter milk carton full of liquid sugar every day just to wake me up. I called 7-11 my second home. I was on a first name basis with the girl who worked there. This was the low point of my life.

I figured out that I could go into the school office about three times a month and tell them the pop machine ate my money. they would then give me two bucks, and I could go buy a bag of candy, sell it next class, and buy two Vanilla Cokes. Morals? Nah.

Granted, there were worse things I could have been addicted to at that age. In Junior High, I was friends with all the stoners and partiers who didn't give a crap about school. I don't know why I didn't ever take up drugs...but I didn't.

The last year of Colorado was better though. I started making friends, enjoying life--but still constantly on a sugar high. Then I moved back, and was miserable again. I didn't realize how out of control I was until a year later. I checked a pay stub from Safeway and realized that just working part time, I'd made $4500. The only thing I had actually bought was a guitar and amp: $500. Where did that $4000 go? Candy. chips. Pop.

I was so disgusted with myself. I was also surprised I was still a functional human after all that junk. I painfully began to stop spending money on sugar. It was sooo hard. I started drinking a lot of juice instead of pop, and crackers instead of cookies. Slowly, I was able to just eat lots of fruit and pasta.

I know it sound really retarded and pathetic that I'm not talking about crack and ecstacy, but sugar was so accessible and acceptable that it had quite the grip on my life. It's a lot easier to talk yourself out of going to some sketchy street corner to buy drugs off a dealer who might stab you if he hasn't had his fix that day, than it is to convince yourself not to spend just four bucks on sour patch kids, chewy gobstoppers, and a slurpee before french class.

Anyways, to this day, I haven't entirely kicked the addiction. My teeth have not completely recovered  (they are always sensitive), and my bank account still takes unnecessary blows to buy snacks. There's no moral to this story. No happy ending where everything is all better.

I guess it's on my mind because the most dangerous holiday of the year for me is quickly approaching:

Halloween.

DUN DUN DUN

Spicy Song Of The Week

I can't even remember the last week. What happened? Was it warm? No? That's okay.
Because I can't remember.


Spicy Song Of The Week is another chill song. I found it on the soundtrack for 'The Last Kiss.' I don't remember watching that movie, but the soundtrack is pretty impressive. If you're into the chill acoustic stuff, make sure you own the Garden State soundtrack as well. Zach Braff is undeniably a soundtrack genius.

Paperweight

Joshua Radin & Schuyler Fisk

The Last Kiss

I tend to zone out when I listen to this song. I dunno why. Maybe it's because I wish I could relate.

Let's make this a good week, aight? I should go pants shopping, finally.

I'm supposed to be writing a paper...

But all I can care about is:

Why do all the red candies taste best?

Do you remember when Jolly Ranchers were popular? If there was a bowl of Jolly Ranchers at some office, the red ones were always gone. I mean, being the sugar addict I was (am), I didn't much care as long as I could covertly steal one before the receptionist offered it to me and then another when she saw me eyeing them. Ha. Sucker. There's also the move of reaching for one Jolly Rancher with your index finger and thumb, and also grabbing one with your pinky and palm. I still use that one to this day.

Why red? Why can't black be the uber cool candy colour to have. Dark, full of mystery, and bold. Oh but wait.. licorice is black, and we couldn't possibly live without that delicious flavour. Pssshhh.

I'm trying to write a paper on spatial syntax and constructs of power in the western home. And this post is officially longer than my paper. Pass the wine gums!

Chicken or the Egg?

I was stackin apples a couple days ago, and began pondering some heavy stuff. How much control do we really have over our lives? Are there universal ingredients to perfect happiness, or is it relative to everyone based on personality? And above all, which came first: The Chicken or the Egg?


AHA! Now THAT'S a question I believe I can answer. It took some careful speculation and hypothesizing, and several other scientifically based actions as I questioned how something could come from nothing, and so forth.

And then I had an epiphany.

My friends, the real question is: the barbecue or the frying pan? Here's why:

 Law number A: If there was a need to cook a new item, that need would be met...and therefore that item would be cooked. I believe Darwin said this, in some form or another.

If that new item was the egg, then surely these Neanderthals wouldn't bother with a barbecue for the chicken, as they'd wrack their jelly-brains for a way to cook this potentially delicious new egg.

And if the chicken came first, then they wouldn't waste their time with a frying pan. They'd toss the bird on a rotisserie spit and barbecue that sucker. Right?

That's detective work. Here's where it gets interesting.

The cast-iron frying pan couldn't have possibly been invented until the Iron Age (circa 1000 BCE), with the arrival of Teflon not until a few years later.

The idea of cooking something over hot coals is clearly much older than that, as some archeological sites have found remnants of BroilKing manuals from 25 000 years ago.  Back then you bought a 'build your own fire' kit. So we can safely assume that since the barbecue was invented first, the Chicken, in fact, must have existed before the egg. Cause and effect.

So where were these chickens coming from if there were no eggs?

It wasn't until the failing numbers of Storks stopped bringing baby chickens to their mothers that evolution introduced a new adaptation: the egg. And that gave way to the birth of the iron age, as suddenly humanity needed a frying pan.

I'm glad safeway pays me to come up with this stuff.

And just so you know:
I updated Wikipedia with this theory so everyone will know the truth. You're welcome.

I think all this pondering of eggs is because I stupidly purchases 120 extra large eggs a week ago. Only three people eat eggs in my house. So in order to finish them in even a MONTH, we need to eat 30 eggs a week, that's 10 eggs a person per week. That's too many eggs. I could go for some chicken.