Drinky Mc Drink-Drink and the story of Jesus.

I LOVE this post, it reminds me of conversations I had with my friends in our youth about the 'Red Sea' and the 'Reed Sea' and Jesus's loincloth flapping in the breeze....

http://newyorkintern.blogspot.com/

This is a REALLY funny blog site.
Cheers to you Andy, keep it coming!

Change is good.

Well, the pink was fun while it lasted (and yes, I DID like it, albeit in an obstrusive, ice cream headached sort of way.) But, the time has come for seriousness and I like this style. Thank you for your patience and understanding, while I explored my inner-barbie. ~shudder~

Beware the 'south-paw'.

A recent study by two French academics tracked the prevalence of left-handedness across a variety of traditional societies, and found that the more violent ones tended to have a high percentage of lefties. And the important lesson learned by that little dollop of information? Always keep your left handed friends close by the next time you end up in a bar brawl (or on a school bus with a behemoth named Pam trying to push you through a metal wall), they'll knock the crap out of your enemies, who won't even see it coming (right out of 'left field' as it were!).

I didn't write this, but...

Being happily childless, going to a baby shower is like having a piranha give you oral sex, i.e. it's painful.
Guaranteed things will occur:

1. Several annoying hags will ask you, "So when are YOOOOOOOOOOU going to have a baby? Hmmm?", as they look disapprovingly over the tops of their glasses.
These same hags will shake their heads sadly when you inform them, "I would rather dip my face in acid then have my crotch ripped open by a head the size of a pumpkin, thank you."

2. You will be forced to play insipid games such as "Decorate Someone with Toilet Paper", or "The Clothespin Game". If you're a woman, you know what I'm talking about. If you're a man, get on your knees and thank jeebus you have a penis.

3. You will have to eat finger sandwiches. Okay, this shower is at lunch time, therefore I want food. I don't want watercress and air sandwiches with a side of jordan almonds, mmmkay?

4. You will have to sit through the opening of 5000 presents, each one of which will be held up for the requisite "oooh" or "aaah".
Word to the wise, don't drunkenly yell out, "That headband is going to make your daughter look like she has a garter on her head and is heading out to a baby prom." This is frowned upon.

5. You will have to sit through hours of what I like to call "Delivery Horror Story Porn". This is where every mother at the shower will give you the story of all their deliveries in 3D Technicolor. "I tore from front to back! 35 stitches!" "I delivered a placenta the size of a Labrador Retriever!" "My kid was stuck in the birth canal for 72 hours, she had a conehead!" "My boobs deflated after I stopped nursing and now they look like windsocks!"

When they see the look of complete repugnance on your face, they will try to convince you that - "It's a beautiful experience!"
"You forget the pain!"
"You'll never understand anything in this world or be a complete person unless you experience it!"

Alcohol should be served mandatorily at baby showers. Since it's not, be sure to bring your flask. Personally, I would rather watch the 49'ers lose for the millionth time than go to another shower, but since I have a vagina, I'm sure I'll be forced to attend many more.

The Vancouver International Wine Festival

Oooh, that's tonight!
I'm so looking forward to it!

The host country is South Africa and as I don't know a whole lot about South African wines I'm looking forward to finding a few new favorites!

I'll take notes and impart my (self decreed) wisdom here on Monday or Tuesday.

Yes, it's REALLY pink.

I'm making a statement. Don't harass me about it. What's the statement I'm making? Oh, something about werewolves and color stereotyping, nothing to work yourself up about. Anyway, the point of THIS post is to tell you to ignore the 'Links' section to the right. Because I don't actually know what I'm doing here (and my cat is getting in my way) I don't have the faintest ability or knowledge of how to change it from useless news to something I would ACTUALLY enjoy posting, like www.kbannerman.com or something. Heck, even the site of Merriam-Websters dictionary http://www.m-w.com/ would be an improvement. However. I'm am blog deficient in many ways and I am conceding that point by posting this. Kevin, if you're reading this, you have to promise to help me!

Baby Showers and revulsion.

I hope to offend no one with this particular blog, but it just needs to be said.

It is NOT necessary to completely gross out guests that don't have children and aren't EVER going to have children (especially after this!) by playing vile games focusing on 'pretend used' diapers at baby showers.

Example:

The girl who arranged aforementioned party took 6 diapers.
She filled them with examples of different types of baby food (pureed peas, yams etc...) numbered them, than passed them around.

Object of the game?
To have each participant inspect the contents of aforementioned diaper, either visually or by smell (or both), and correctly identify each of the 6 samples of the food it was 'originally'.

I mean....C'mon!!!

Priorities a little awry?

I've figured out something about myself. And I may have mentioned this before, but just bear with me for another few moments...

I figured out that while I have a hard time purchasing clothing that costs over $30, I will happily, and with out reservation, spend $60 dollars per meal on myself.

Now.
Not only is that a fleeting moment in time, with nothing but a full belly to show later, but it's an exorbitant amount to spend on a single meal.
At least if I was to spend $60 bucks on an article of clothing, I'd definitely have it longer than say...2 or 3 hours (or about 8 hours if you include the digestive process.)
I'm going to have to take this into serious consideration.
Later.

At the moment, I'm trying to figure out if I should make reservations for myself at the Café de Paris tonight, or if I should drop in and hope for the best.

They've returned!

Along the side of the road that I drive to work is an deep and long drainage ditch. It runs beside a farm and the sides if the ditch are laden with shrubs and brambles and small trees.

In amongst the brush are Red Winged Blackbirds and I'm so happy to see them.
It seems spring has finally come.
They dart and flit, the bright red and yellow marks flashing on their wings.
Their beautiful two toned trill was the first birdsong I really recognized in my childhood, maybe that's the real reason I enjoy them so much.

The stately herons don't pay them any attention as they hunt along the sides of the ditches.
Actually, the herons look quite shrouded and cloaked when their long necks are tucked in, standing forlornly staring into the dark waters.

The hawks that patrol the fields don't pay them any attention either. They're to busy trying to avoid the crows that are diving at them like miniature kamikaze pilots.
(oh, and some Canadian geese are flocked in the field...a conference of noisy stuffed shirts ignoring everything else going on.)

And now that I've filled this blog up with mindless cliches, I'll be off!

Politics

I've noticed that there are a lot of blog sites dedicated to politics kicking around here.

I was going to write about that, but frankly, I know so little about politics (particularly American politics), that anything I could say about it would be shot down and burnt up in to little bitty pieces instantly.

Besides, I don't enjoy demonstrating my ignorance, and that's all that my blog about politics would very clearly show.

What I CAN do is complain about billionaire romance novelists who win the title "Officer of the Order of Arts and Letters" from France.
And mercy me, I do believe I will!

To steal a phrase that my well spoken friend Kim coined, I believe that the folks who selected a certain ROMANCE NOVELIST (read: Danielle Steele) to earn that honorable title, were "Blind, illiterate monkeys."

It certainly takes the shine of that medal, now doesn't it!

I suppose my own whining is for not, really.
I mean, it's not like I've done any better.
But I'm DAMN sure I could!
Then, when France offered ME the "Order of Arts and Letters" I would at least deserve it!

(I wouldn't accept it of course. But still...)

Cloud Farms

Driving to work yesterday in the early morning, the fields and pastures glowed under the rising sun.
The flat farm fields run across with fencing, seemed to hold the great white low-lying banks of clouds in place.
In a few spots along the road, the mist wisped out across the road in trailing tufts and looked like a slow motion flight from the farm. Cars drove through it creating a swirl of white turbulence behind...

With the sun glowing pink and the tall, still leafless trees standing black against the pearly grey sky, it was a pleasant way to start a Thursday morning drive to work.

And then I arrived at the doorstep of hell.

No no no! Only happy rainbow and bunny thoughts allowed!!!

Anyway. It was a lovely bucolic scene as I made my way to my place of employment.

So I guess what I'm really trying to say is that no matter how pleasant my drive to work, it still ends poorly.

Ew.

I guess I'll count myself lucky with getting away with only a common head cold.
One of my co-workers came down with an interesting ailment over the weekend...he had a facial infection. (!)

He claims his face was SO infected that his eye was even swollen shut.
His nose is at least twice normal size and he's already been getting anti-biotic drips for the last three days trying to combat it.

How does one get an infected face?

Nevermind...I don't really want to know.