:: Black Friday ::

"Shoplifting is a victimless crime, like punching someone in the dark." - Homer Simpson

This weekend, which technically began Thursday, is U.S. Thanksgiving/Black Friday (editor's note: Happy Turkey Day, American readers! All 4 of you). And because Black Friday is one helluva shopping day down south*, Christene left this morning, alone with her sister-in-law and a couple of her sister-in-law's friends, for the outlet malls of Seattle/Bellevue/Burlington etc...

(*Black Friday is to the U.S. what Boxing Day is to Canada, and it always struck me as odd that, here, the biggest shopping day of the year would come a day after Christmas, rather than before. I mean, how many times in your life have you heard somebody say, 'You know, we should just delay Christmas this year by a few days so we can buy all our presents on Boxing Day. We'd save a fortune!" Well, for all the problems America has - war, racism, real estate and economic disaster, the BCS – at least they've got this right.)

They return Sunday. Which means I am all alone – with the dog – for the whole weekend. Now, I could throw some wild and crazy party now that I am temporary sans ball-and-chain, but let's face it, that ain't gonna happen. Especially considering the weekend by myself got off to a helluva start at 6 a.m. this morning. After dropping Christene off for her shopping/shoplifting (probably) adventure, I came home to find the dog had peed all over his big dog bed (which he's never done) and also the floor.

A large portion of the floor.

Between keeping the dog from sitting in his own urine, cleaning the large area of pee-covered floor, cleaning the kennel and washing and drying the bed/bed cover, I spent an hour this morning cleaning up.

An hour I could've spent sleeping. Or planning a legen-dary shindig. But alas, everyone has hockey or work tonight and, quite frankly, I don't want to get up to much before my staff Christmas party tomorrow night anyway, so here's how my Friday is gonna break down.

I'm gonna go home, order a pizza, sit on the couch with the dog and watch the hockey game. And then when it's over, I'm going to load up the Wii and have a marathon Mario session – I have the newest Wii-version of Super Mario, plus the original, Mario 3 and Super Mario Land are all loaded on the machine.

Yep, I'm gonna live it up.

And hopefully when she's down in the States, Christene can steal me something nice. I'd love a copy of Bonestorm, but I'd also settle for Lee Carvallo's Putting Challenge.

:: Playing catch-up ::

I was going to write one of those "sorry for never posting" messages until I realized one thing: I'm not sorry. Not sorry at all. The way I figure it, you'll get the pleasure of reading a post when I'm damn well good and ready to give it to ya.

And I'm ready....now.

So, we've got some catchin' up to do, I suppose. I had half a post written from the long weekend, but most of the stuff I wrote has since become a moo point (You know, like a cow's opinion..it's not important). But let us first relive some of the more quotable moments of the past few weeks.

"That's as naked as I've ever been." - Sean, after being stripped of all his clothes and thrown into Lambie's front yard in the post-UFC mayhem a couple weekends ago.

"At first when you guys jumped me I thought you were just gonna shove something in my ass, and I was like 'OK, that's fine I guess,' but then you took all my clothes instead!" - Sean's twisted thought process as the above-mentioned deed took place.

"Quit being so bleedy!" - Lambie, as he attacked poor beer and blood-soaked Sean, who was flailing away on the floor.

"Beer. It's what's for breakfast." - Buchs

"I'd fight Snoop Dogg. What's he gonna do, gin and juice me?" - Buchs, after a few of those 'breakfast beers'.

"It's not funny but it's hilarious." - Jer, commenting on Buch's retardedness, which resulting in A-Scrams being pretty angry.

Amanda: I want a teleport.
Ian: You want a tadpole?

"They should make a steak cologne." - Bucholtz

Well, the last few weeks have been fairly eventful. I can tell because it doesn't feel like I've been home much at all the past three weeks. I work, I go someplace, I come home late, and go to bed. Rinse, lather, repeat. I'm not complaining, but it just seems like this is one of the few weekday nights where I've had both the time and energy to write anything.

A couple weekends ago, if you couldn't already tell from the quotes, many of us - mostly Sean - became intoxicated. Sean, on a $5 bet, stuck his balls into quickly whirrling fan blades, which obviously caused him to hit the deck pretty hard. Five minutes later, he decided sticking his nose into the same fan was a smart idea.

Guess what? It wasn't. You see, when slim blades made of hard plastic, metal, or any other solid material are set at speeds in which you can no longer tell one individual blade from the other, whatever comes into contact with said blades is likely to be caused some undue strain. It's like when you used to throw your Grade 9 math textbook into the ceiling fan, just to see what would happen. What happens is you get calculus everywhere.

Lesson learned, Seany. Lesson learned.

This past weekend, while other people were at stag parties or Nintendo nights or UFC TV events, I was back in Kamloops for the first time in what seemed like 100 years. In reality, it was only about two and a half or so, but still too long. Quite a bit had changed - people now hung out with people I didn't know, the Burger King near my old house was now a Tim Horton's, and an entire new uber-large strip mall had sprung up on what's basically one large median between some major thru-ways. Very odd.

Some things, however, don't change. The pulp mill still stinks - something I'd forgotten about, but was reminded of at nearly the exact same time the "Welcome to Kamloops" sign came into view from the highway - and also, Sifton Ave. is still a formidable foe. One day, however, me, Mike and Shaun will have our revenge.

We just need a better plan. (And a shovel, ahead of time)

Friday evening was spent at Meghan's, drinking a few beers with her and Lorne, before we headed to a very crowded, very hot, Central Station Pub, where I proceeded to a) spill beer on my jeans and b) drink six beers and a caesar but somehow only get charged $13 for three beers. Still not as good a deal as Al though, who downed a couple double paralyzers before just walking out, apparently completely oblivious.

So we did that. And then me, Shaun and Mike drove around for quite awhile (see aforementioned failed plan) before Shaun went home to sleep, and me and Mike hit up some 7-Eleven hotdogs which the slurpee jockey informed us were anywhere from 2 hours to four days old. We took our chances anyway. We killed some more time, before the night basically ended, and boy did it ever end in (insert sarcasm here) fine fashion for me.

The night was mercifully ended at 3:15 a.m. after a loooooooooooong, painstaking conversation with Meghan's otherwise delightful two friends, who spent two hours - two fucking hours - talking about cats. The next day, when explaining what happened to Mike and Shaun, I was actually incapable of words, such was the rage and bafflement that had built inside me. Ask 'em, they'll tell you. It was a tough one.

Nevertheless, on Saturday - refueled after some coffee, Ricky's breakfast, and a solid nap - we eventually got the ball rolling again. Some people went to Earl's for dinner, but me, Mike and Shaun instead went to White Spot, where the TV viewing was far superior to watch the Canucks' Game 6. We said we'd show up at Earl's after the first period, but that was before we were informed that not only did Earl's have worse TV locations, but in fact no TVs we could see at all. So we eventually rolled in around 7:45. Nobody seemed to really miss us anyhow, so that was good.

The Earl's experience was ended with one giant beer each, and this from Shaun:

"I'm having fun, if fun means the opposite of fun."

So rather than hit up the pre-drinking/Blue Grotto, the three of us crashed a work-related conference (for a different division) at a downtown hotel, where we met up with Al, Ken, Melissa, and briefly, Tara. It was an open bar so it turned to a pretty solid night. Near the end, the little makeshift bar actually ran out of beer.

Hooray for us.

So that, in a nutshell, was my long-winded Kamloops experience. I left Sunday after attempting to throw a sponge soccer ball at Mike's car from mine (they'd previously chucked it at me), but it turns out you have a better chance to hit them if you roll your own window down first. Rookie mistake, but it nearly caused Mike and Shaun to laugh so hard they nearly drove of the road, so at least there's that.

Oh, and if the weekend wasn't success enough, Shaun - former video store warehouse employee - gave me a lifesized, lighted Superman Returns standup. I haven't taken it out of the box yet, but I can only imagine its awesomness.

This week: Tonight we had softball, kicking the ever-loving shit out of some team of poor saps, 16-2. Tomorrow and Friday are Games 1-2 of the Nucks and Ducks series, and Saturday is my all-fucking-day-long conference at an airport hotel. It's the same exact thing I crashed Saturday night while in Kamloops, only that I'll have to sit through 10 hours of workshops before the drinking can begin.

But hey, it's another open bar.

Some quotes, old and new, to start us off this fine Friday ...

"Well, she should've tapped out." - Bucholtz, on his solution to last weekend's quasi-ugliness between a drunken Scotty and Kels.

"Yay, I'm a rapist!" - Bucholtz again. (From last weekend, no idea the context)

"This is a proud day for me and my family," - Scotty, shitcanned last weekend, after he tried and failed to pronounce 'puberty' about five times. It's not 'poo-berty' buddy.

"It's a reverse blanket. Like taking your pants off, but not quite." - Bucholtz

"Just get a Where's Waldo? book - no words, just fun." - Bucholtz, after Bre said she was going to get a crossword puzzle book to do while Ian played hockey.

"You know how much money I spent at the casino? A gwop! A gwop of money!" - this Greg character from last night, inventing new currency.

Upon hearing the unfortunately-named Mooseknuckles were on a 14-game win streak...
Me: So Ian, I guess you guys are in first-place then eh?
Sean: They're in double-first place!!!

(I guess they're good)

So, it was another typical weekend, where I basically stayed busy while simultaneously doing absolutely nothing at all. I don't know how I do it, really -I kept myself mostly busy, yet I didn't do anything of note - didn't get drunk, didn't do anything crazy, and I have no real exciting stories to regale you with. If I ever write a book, I think I'll call it "How to waste your life without anyone noticing."

Thursday night I went out for drinks with Melissa, to some Burnaby joint named Marine Pub. It was an alright place, despite the world's stupidest waitress. (Coors Light? Sure, here's a Kokanee. Uhh...thanks.)

Friday was more drinks, this time with my buddy Steve, who I used to work with. Heard tales of life as a police recruit, complete with reasons past recruits were booted from the program (Getting badge stolen by a hooker who's giving you a hummer, and stealing muffins from the J.I. cafeteria tie for first place, in case you were wondering.)

The rest of Friday was spent, mostly, at Sean and Rachel's place, just hanging out drinking Bowen Island Lager. The best tasting $10.62/6-pack beer on the market, I'd guess.

Then Saturday, for one day and one day only, the sun came out, as if from nowhere. So we took the opportunity to wear shorts, drink beer at the park, and chuck a ball around. Good thing too, since the weather didn't last. It's rainy and overcast again.

So, like I said, not a whole lot of interesting tales to speak of, which is really starting to aggravate me since I, again, spent $100 or more dollars on beer and food throughout the weekend. How it's possible that I can't get drunk like I used to is baffling to me. Ah well, one of these weekends I'll figure 'er out.

And I'm sure you'll all be sorry when it happens.

In completely unrelated news, I can suggest a number of songs you should all download. Beware the wildly differing styles and tastes.

Tripping Daisy - "Piranhas"
Mid-90s grunge era tune, that I've heard on a CFOX's '90s Brunch quite often on Sunday morning drives into work. Great song.

Screaming Trees - "Nearly Lost You"
Another staple of the 90's Brunch. I believe it's on the Singles Soundtrack - the early '90s Cameron Crowe movie that was centred on the Seattle/grunge scene.

Pink Floyd - "Speak to Me/Breath the Air"
Just a good song. From Dark Side of the Moon.

Justin Timberlake - "What Goes Around (Comes back around)"
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. It's JT, so feel free to begin the mockery (Mike, looking in your direction). I have no information about this song at all, but I just heard it played on the Grammy Awards, and I liked it. It's catchy, what can I say.

And if anyone can, for the love of God, ever find the song "What to do" by Thrush Hermit, please download it with your P2P program of choicel, and send it to me. I'll give you a beer for it. Or a high-five. (Probably the latter).

I heard in one afternoon on the Fox, but it's early 90s and indie, so finding it anywhere is a lost cause so far.

From the "What kind of answer did you expect?" department...
Me: What other kind of job could you see me doing?
Buchs: I dunno...condom taster?

Buchs: I know! You should go to Iraq.
Me: And do what, exactly?
Buchs: I don't know...go hang out with Connie Chung and Geraldo Paldorrama, or whatever.
Me: You mean Rivera?
Buchs: Whatever. How 'bout baboon trainer? You know anything about monkeys?
Me: No.
Buchs: Shit, 'cuz that'd be awesome.