"Sweet Fucking Jesus!"

When you get this type of reaction from your girlfriend upon letting loose a hellacious fart, you know you've done a good job.

:: Best dream ever ::

I didn't sleep well last night, for whatever reason. I went to be really early, like 9-something, and then tossed and turned for hours. But when I did finally fall asleep for good, I had a pretty awesome dream. And the fact that I can remember it – I usually don't remember dreams – makes it even better. 

Here's what happened.

A bunch of us were all camping somewhere out in the woods. In bear country. There were, in fact, bears sightings all over the place. At some point in our camping adventure, Christene needed to get something from Sean's tent, and when she left, she forgot to zip the door back up.

And soon after, a bear got into Sean's tent and tore shit up. Pretty awesome so far.

Sean, of course, went nuts, and got really mad at Christene for leaving the door open (because, as everyone knows, zipping up a thin nylon door keeps bears out). Basically, he blamed her for the bear attack. Then I, of course, got mad at Sean, and we started arguing/fighting.

And here's where the dream gets really good. I won the fight when I, wait for it..... picked up a grizzly bear and threw it at Sean.

Yes, I hit Sean in the face with a bear. 

Take that, asshole. 

:: Fuck You Channing Tatum ::

Last night, Christene had a dream that she was dating Channing Tatum - who, in the dream, was seen jogging in a pink shirt while eating a piece of cake (don't ask) - but then it turned out that he was boring and a complete loser, so she dumped him and decided to go out with me instead.

Me 1. G.I. Joe 0.

Take that douchebag.

:: I'll take that as a compliment ::

This morning, I slept late and woke up with only 15 minutes before we had to meet Kristyl for breakfast. As such, I didn't really have time for a shower and was concerned that I smelled a little bit, well, gross.

So I went with the "Surrey Shower" solution, and sprayed a little bit of Axe body spray on before I headed out the door. Then I asked Christene if that would do the trick.

"You smell fine, very masculine. You smell like ass and woodchips."

"If there was a letter higher than 'A' that would be me and Kristyl." - Christene, discussing who among her friends and acquaintances had earned A-List status.

"I used to think that maybe I had a learning disability, but it turns out I was just really lazy." - Kristyl

"I hate the term, "fake boobs." If I can feel 'em, they're real." - Dan

Ian, reminiscing about the last time Blue escaped from the yard...
"I just remember that I came out of the bathroom and said 'Where's the dog?' Then somebody said that Jeremy had taken him for a walk, and I said 'A walk?! But Jeremy's the drunkest one in the house! And Blue's leash is still here."

:: Repeat Performance ::

You may recall (because I brag about it often) that a year ago I won some North American-wide awards. Well, not to toot my own horn or anything, but, well, I won one of them again.

First place this time, instead of third actually, if we're keeping score (and we are).

Normally, I'd suggest this would be cause for a big, fat raise - or a barrage of better job offers from competing companies. However, my company is bracing for a recession (read: being cheap) and the major competition is currently in a "hiring freeze" so the best I can hope for is that this saves me from being laid off.

Whatever, I'll take it.

And the Montgomery Burns Award for Oustanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence goes to....


....me.

Yes, me. You heard that right. I won something. Two somethings, actually.

I've written on this blog since 2003 - my final year of university - and in the beginning I paid little heed to names, details, etc. A quick Google search would've given you all manner of information - names, friend's names, school, etc. However, after hearing of people getting fired from their jobs for making certain remarks on their personal blogs, I decided to play it a bit safer, so in the last 8-10 months, I've went to great lengths to clean this place up.

My name at the bottom of this month is now but one letter. Nearly all mentions of my last name, current employer, and occupation are gone too (well, most of 'em). I just figure, with so much incriminating evidence of me already on Facebook, I didn't need to pad the ballot box, so to speak, in the event that any higher-ups from my work find me online. I have something of a (quickly-slipping) reputation to protect.

Why am I telling you this? I'm not sure - sorry, this post has sorta gotten away from me here. But back to my original point - I won a couple awards. If this was in the full disclosure period between 2003-07, I'd probably have all kinds of details on here - in large fonts, too - about what exactly I've done. But since we're not, all I will tell you here is this, and those of you who know me can fill in the blanks yourself.

In my profession, there are a number of levels of annual awards: Company awards (small, but come with cash), provincial/state (pretty big), nation-wide (large), and North American (covering both Canada and the US). So through your own powers of deduction, I'm sure you can figure out how tough the last awards are to win.

Personally, I've never won anything better than a 2nd place at company awards (and promptly spent my winnings at the blackjack table). Nobody in my office has won a provincial award in at least 3 years, and no one in my office has won a national or north american award in my four years with the company and beyond.

'Til now.

On Friday afternoon, only 20 minutes before I was about to leave for the weekend, I received an email that I'd won first place in one category of the North American awards. And then the kicker - I'd also won third place in another category, for something I've been doing less than a year.

I was, needless to say, pretty fucking blown away. It was even better than that time I was named Time Magazine's Person of the Year.

Also, after some online searching, we discovered that a co-worker - who's become somewhat disillusioned/disinterested with awards in the last five years or so - won first place for something, herself.

It was quite a score, and quite a coup for our little office, which takes its fair share of shit and abuse from the "head office" because we're not quite like our big brother office up the road.

Many times in the past four months I've comtemplated quitting my current job - either getting out of the business altogether, or just switching to another company. And I know when it comes to many things, I'm all talk, but this was one thing I was seriously considering. It's amazing though, how much a little recognition can do for your psyche. Now, because I guess I'm pretty good at this racket, I'll stick it out for awhile. At least 'til my plaques arrive in the mail.

So just to recap: In my chosen field, I am No. 1 at what I do, continent-wide* for 2007.

*Not entirely true, as there are all kinds of divisions and breakdowns, but still....

Well, as Kelsey once predicted, Facebook has done some significant damage to this blog, and the frequency of postings. This is not, however, because like other people, I write everything and post pictures on Facebook instead of here. No, that's not it.

Instead, my problem is I come online determined to great some great post, but instead I get sidetracked searching for people I may have once met and think I should add as my Facebook friend, and the next thing I know, it's 11:30 at night and the last thing I wanna do is write anything. Also, work has been a fucking nightmare for weeks, and all I usually wanna do when I get home is lounge around and then go to bed.

But tonight, like the trooper that I am, I have risen from the dead long enough to post something. I guess I'm not unlike Jesus in that regard.

Anyway...lemme fill ya in on what's been goin' on lately. Couple weekends ago was Ian's 23rd birthday, which turned into a pretty good shaker which included really hot chicken wings, me losing quickly at poker, and me and Bobby kickin' it old school.

Oh, there was also this really fucking terrible standup comedy DVD. This guy right here. And I'm talking completely fucking terrible. My dear sweet Lord I just wanted it to end.

Continuing on with my "I'm not going to drink (much) until Funtastic" plan, I was fully prepared to just knock back a couple Coors Lights at Ian's soiree, but then me and Bob came up with the aforementioned plan, and well...fuck. I left at 'round 2 a.m., with Sean still frantically searching for the beer that he never did find (Which is still quite baffling).

From what I heard later, some people ended up drinking until like 4:00 or 5:00 or 6:00 or something crazy, but Ian gave people the boot from his place 'round 2:30 because they were being too loud.

At least nobody yakked in the sink this time though. Bonus.

Other things of note that have gone on since I posted last: The president of my company called me personally the other day to tell me something I'd done was the best thing he'd ever seen during all his years with the company, ever. Seriously. If you had any doubt about my awesomeness before, it's all gone now.

That's just how fucking good I am.

Also last week, I pulled my best Shoeless Joe Jackson impression by "intentionally" throwing a setup/date. Here's the jist: Friend's wife decided I should be set up with one of her friends. Figured I'd go along with the plan, cuz well, why not? Then, I decided I wasn't interested, but didn't feel like saying anything, because that's just the kind of guy I am - too nice. Also, incredibly lazy.

So the setup occurs when some of us are out at the pub one night. I knew it was happening, so rather than a) be a man and just say 'sorry, not interested' or b) actually try to impress and/or get to know this woman, I did the following:

Didn't have a shower after work. Didn't do my hair. Wore an old hat. Wore some ratty t-shirt which may or may not have had a stain on it. Didn't say more than 15 words all night. Left nearly immediately after wing supply had dwindled.

In my defence, I was exhausted, and just wanted to go home, but still...I've put forth more effort just tying my shoes in the morning.

And while most, if not all of you, are thinking right now that because of my plan, I'm either a) a complete dick, or b) and idiot for not attempting to get some, and thus end this embarassing slump, I will simply say this:

I do not care. And it worked.

:: Rally Caps ::

Cannons. Second Place.

Not something you probably expected to hear - this season or any other - is it?

No, you probably thought (and rightfully so) that you'd be more likely to read something like "Cannons second-last" or "Cannons banned from slo-pitch for alcohol abuse" or perhaps "Outfielder Bucholtz arrested for statutory rape"

You know, the usual.

And while those headlines may yet be written sometime during Cannons' history, we'll focus on that first one.

Cannons. In second.

Holy Fucking Shit.

Amazing yes, but 'tis no lie. Somehow the Cannons - perennial division bottom-feeders, and basically the Kansas City Royals of Langley Mixed Slo-Pitch - started off the playoffs with a win and then never really stopped.

Friday night? Win. Saturday? A win and a lose - but the win came against the Finishers again, who were the "best" team in the league, standings-wise.

Losers.

Sunday - the final day - was an interesting one. We got through our first game smoothly enough, beating the "I'll-only-swing-if-I-have-to" Patriots by a run or two. That sent us to the semifinals - and by then we had a pretty solid cheering section - parents, grandparents, friends, and even other teams from our division who really want the underdogs to pull it off somehow.

So we did. After all, you can't disappoint the fans.

It was a doozy of a game though, against Tornadoes.

It started pretty strong - we chalked up five or so runs and had a healthy lead until about the fifth inning, when the Tornadoes crawled back after some trademark Cannons defence gave them some free runs.

We tried getting the lead back in our half of the inning, on an infield hit, but I was out at the plate.

And then I watched the rest of the game from the bench.

Fucking umpires. You call them "fucking idiots" once and they give you the boot. On the plus side, I was the first Cannon to be ejected from a game. Proud, proud moment, folks.

Hey, at least I'm in the record book. God knows I ain't gettin' there with my home run totals.

So with me on the bench, and Terry filling in for me in left-centre field, we needed five runs in the bottom of the seventh to tie the ballgame. The top of the order was up, so it was definitely do-able. We smacked out a couple hits, scored a few - and I think Chris and Scotty each had home runs (again. Those two hit the ball a mile all weekend).

When the bottom of the order came up, we had already knocked in 4. Dana was the tying run on third. There were two outs, and Katie - with her 4 or 5 games of lifetime experience playing ball - was at the plate.

No problem.

Katie took a few pitches, and looked pretty nervous up there, knowing the season was on her shoulders. Then she smacked the ball to the pitcher, who couldn't field the ball on time because he slipped.

Katie hustled to first. Safe.

Dana ran home. Safe there too. And the crowd - and dugout - went wild. I've never seen a happier ball team then I did at that exact moment. It was fucking awesome.

That morning, before we'd even played a game, Katie told me that she was going to do something great that day. Something that would win us a game.

Something that people would remember, and later on they'd say "Hey, remember when Katie did that?"

Good God damn prediction.

So the game went to extra's - with the last out from the inning before starting at second base with one out (international tiebreaker rules).

By then the momentum had swung decidedly back in our favour, and boy did we score some runs. Seven of 'em before they could get two outs.

Game. Set. Match.

Fucking rights.

So it was off to the 'ship we went - minus me of course, having been banned for the rest of the fucking tournament - against the mighty Generals.

I'll admit, while I had all kinds of faith we could win considering the roll we were on, I thought maybe, just maybe, the Generals would be too much. They have all kinds of hitters, and they usually thumped us in regular season (like most teams).

We played one outstanding game, though, staying with them - even leading at times - right til the end, when we needed four runs to tie in the bottom of the 7th.

We got three, and the tying run was on third, just a few steps away.

Ah well, can't win 'em all I guess. Although that weekend I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if we did. Man, did we play well.

The only thing that sucks is that next year we're gonna be expected to do some damage in the standings, no more of this 4-18 bullshit.

Which is good because maybe we'll actually do it, but I really liked being the underdog last weekend. And I loved the look on the other team's faces when somebody would say to them, "You got beat by who?"

By the Cannons, that's who.

Nice season guys. Nice season.