The Eighth One...

I love dogs. I would sell my brother into slavery for a Corgi puppy right now. Especially one that knew how to go buy groceries and cook my grilled cheese sandwhiches on a whim.

I understand that I am far too busy to own a dog, not to mention far too broke, but I know that it would not be fair to go and get a dog, and then leave it at home by itself all day. That's a dick move, and for many reasons.

One, if the dog is alone from 9 am til 7 pm, he will likely need to pee or crap within that time frame. So to force them to hold it for ten hours, or to yell at them when they fail to would be a turd move of royal proportions.

Two, I don't know which breeds do, but I do know Corgis do not have thumbs. Therefore, he will be bored as hell all day and not even able to play Playstation or work the satellite remote to put on Cesar Milan, the Dog Whisperer.

Dogs are expensive. The SPCA charges you three thousand and fifty two dollars just to come see a dog, and the adoption cost is triple that.When a dog isn't given attention, and affection, they can become little assholes who will bark all day long, understandably so because they are bored and lonely.

Why in god's name do people go out and get dogs, so they can just leave them outside all day to bark sixty five times a minute, for fourteen consecutive hours? It's like when people take their kids out to the movies with them, and let them cry through the movie all night. You are likely immune to your dog's bark, or your kid's cry, but everybody else can hear them.

If getting a dog is so important to you, you would think you would treat the dog better than leaving it outside for hours at a time, every day, especially now that its November and cold as hell.
Dogs aren't meant to sit in a dog house on a chain by themselves all winter long. If you're going to do that to your pet, then why bother getting them in the first place?

In a nutshell, I will accept all donations of Corgi puppies, or grilled-cheese making, grocery shopping robots effective immediately.

The Seventh One...

So I found another funny show, and am watching my fifty-third episode in a row on youtube.

I haven't gotten out of my chair since the first one ended, it's becoming a concern.

The show is called "Super Fat vs Super Skinny", and it is pretty close to the show idea I put in my prior blog.

The premise is fairly decent, but there are some shortfalls, but it is a British show so I will cut it some slack.

Basically they take someone who eats way to damn much, and introduces them to someone who is exactly opposite. Then they put them in a house, hilariously called The Feeding House, and have them eat each others meals for 5 days. The highlight for me so far was watching this behemoth sitting there drooling away while this 65 pound thing tries to wolf down her second double cheese beef sandwich. The "Super Fat" as they are affectionately referred to had already polished off her second and final grape hours earlier, and has to endure watching the "Super skinny" gag and act revolted for having to eat so damn much.

Like I said, the concept is pretty decent, and I hope some people watch it, but when I become rich and get my own production company and buying the rights to the show and making it better.

First, Super Fat vs Super Skinny would become a sports show, and have a team of Barges versus a team of 90 pound weaklings in a series of hilarious competitions such as:

Stair Climbing:
Competitors line up side by side at the bottom of a ten step stair case, and have to get to the top before the other.

Edge: Skinnies

200m race:
Patients run 200m, first one across the finish line wins.

Edge: Superfats. The race will be downhill, and there is pie at the finish line.

Who can sit in the sun the longest without sweating:
This would be a bit confusing because you would need an experienced judge to discern sweat from grease.

Edge: Skinnies

Piggy Back Race:
A pair of competitors from each team get together, and one has to carry the other ten feet.

Edge: Skinnies

Who can eat two thousand chicken wings the fastest:
Self-explanitory.

Edge: Obvious.

I find the current format very entertaining, but I hope they take my suggestions into consideration.

The Sixth One.

So I have finally watched Man vs Food. I gotta say, it is awesome. The guy is endearing, and the concept is hilarious. Some of the foods I have seen this guy eat have made me feel full as hell, it's like a contact high with food. My cardiologist even called me just to see if I was ok. Now this show totally beats the hell out of watching crap like Jersey Shore or the Real Housewives of Abu Dhabi, but this show got me feeling a little bad about life.

Here is this fat dude walking around eating garantuan amounts of greasy ass food, which he gets for free, and he likely makes an assload of money through advertising and contract from the Food Network. He gets revered like a rockstar, and acts like one on his show. However, the guy is basically the poster child for diabetes, obesity and quad-bypass surgery. I think it is sort of funny how you get commercials for Fat- Free Silhouette yogurt and Cheerios with their ultra mega cholesterol lowering powers in between ten minute spurts of this guy chugging down eleven pound pizza subs and sandwiches with french fries and ice cream on them.

Maybe he is actually a martyr. He has noticed the obesity epidemic in North America, and he is doing his best to eat absolutely all the bad food in America to prevent average Joes from making poor nutritional decisions.

I wonder if they get this show in Kenya, or Sierra Leone? The entire village would be confused as hell as one giant fat man eats more food in one sitting than they do in a week combined. There are people in the world who die of starvation every day, and I'm sure when this guy dies of his inevitable heart explosion, it will free up enough food to save about 86 people.

I propose a show that has all the entertainment value of Man vs Food, but with a little bit more social responsibility. You could do it on site in different cities, and take homeless people, or starving villagers in impoverished countries, and then slap down a 12 pound pastrami sandwhich and watch them eat that.
Hell you could mesh a bunch of different shows into one, let them phone a friend to come eat some too, or ask the audience if they want some.

I know I would watch that.

The Fifth One...

I hate advertising. Really. Pop-up ads annoy the crap out of me, and they have gotten far worse than they were when I first started using the internet. Before it was some small pop up window with 8-bit colours flashing telling me "Congradulation! You are 1,000,000th visiter to the site! Click here for you're prize!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

When it first happened I would get all excited, thinking I won, because the internet is so vast and EVERYONE uses it, so maybe I really AM the one millionth person to visit this site! Hell, I was already the millionth viewer on six sites last week, maybe I am really lucky! Maybe they are giving away some of those exclamation points they seem to have so many extra of. I'd come back to a site a week later and I would get the same pop-up and think that maybe I am still the one millionth visitor cuz no one has come here since. Who uses Google anyways?

Now here I am, years later and still getting screwed by advertising.

I had a "fun size" chocolate bar yesterday, and I can't understand the concept behind the name.
There is nothing "fun" about a chocolate bar that completely melts in your hand while you fumble to open the package because it is so damn small you can't grip it between the necessary two fingers.

So, candy companies of the known galaxy, explain to me how one is to enjoy oneself whilst covered from the first knuckle to finger tip in waxy chocolate sludge, trying to scrape the wholesome goodness out of a microscopic tear in the packaging, all while cursing and getting in trouble by one's boss for not howling expletives at your snack with customers in the store. Riddle me that!

A true FUN size for a chocolate bar would be one that requires a wheelbarrow and small herd of oxen to bring home from the grocery store. I know I would enjoy myself slightly more if I didn't have to open and eat sixty five mini chocolate bars just to have enough touch my tongue so my brain can sense taste. I think they had to change it from "bite size" to "fun size" because the government held a study and found that the only person who have mouths small enough to actually manage to bite a chocolate bar that size in half is a newborn infant, and theyre usually too busy getting born and breathing for the first time to think about chocolate. Plus, they don't have teeth.


If candy companies want to inject some more fun into their chocolate bars, they can try making them as big as possible. Or making them into fun shapes. A fully functioning Playstation 3 made entirely out of nougat and caramel would get a pass from me. I would like for all skateboards to be made out of chocolate, so that way the jerks who make all kinds of noise outside my house every day wouldn't make it out of their own driveways.


I would accept a chocolate turkey stuffed with caramel.
Or, a real turkey stuffed with caramel.

It would make you crazy high on sugar before crashing on turkey induced sleep.

The Fourth One...

So I feel pretty good tonight.

I didn't win the lottery again! It's awesome, I totally dodged a bullet. The numbers came in, 12...15..19..20...28...29...39... and the number 14 was bestowed the honor of being the bonus number... meaning it is absolutely useless to you unless you already had 6 out of 7 numbers, at which point it just distinguishes you from the people who actually won the lottery, and those who won the consolation prize.

I'm glad I didn't win the lottery, and it was close too. If the number 12 was actually a 13, and you dropped the 0 from 20, and 28 and 29 were each 5 numbers less than what they really were, AND 39 was just 9, and the bonus number wasn't useless to me, I would have totally been stuck winning. I'm so lucky.

I mean, what would I do if I did win? Why in god's name would I want to lay in a nice warm bed tomorrow until I wake up and take a limo to OLG headquarters and get my novelty check, when I can drag my bones out of bed at 8 am, and freeze my feet off when they hit the floor because I am too cheap to turn the heat on until Christmas, and shuffle off to the Brantford Transit (read: loser mover) to haul me to the job I work so I can earn minimum wage to make the minimum payment on my seven credit cards. I would have to let Geeves make me dinner, and he won't let me dip my Eggos in my Spaghettios anyways, so whats the point? I would have to have rich cherry wood furniture, and I just finally finished Feng Shui-ing my upside-down milk crate dining room set to allow for maximum chi, and those crates took me forever to collect, because the man in the dairy department frowns upon you dumping the milk bags out of them and sprinting out the fire exit with it tucked under your arm. Everyone always gives me the rudest looks when I do that. I don't scowl at them when they're in the Ikea parking lot loading their Herken Yogenfruz Loveseat into their economy sized sedan.

Honestly, who would want that? I'd get lonely living on my own private island, and I don't think I could get Jersey Shore updates in the Bahamas.

Millionaires eat caviar, drink Courvoisier, and play cricket. First, I hate foods AND drink that start with 'C'*,
Why eat caviar when you can just eat fish sticks? You could buy smoked salmon and hit it with a hole punch and no one would tell the difference.
Why eat filet minion when you can have Salisbury Steak Hungry Man Dinners?
Why play cricket when you can play Roach Fumigation Doom Squad.

The rich lifestyle is totally not for me, which is why I am so glad that I didn't get stuck winning the lottery tonight. I really feel bad for whomever got suckered into that one.


Phew!!





*- Excluding chicken fingers, cheese, chips, chinese food, chocolate milk, chocolate, candy, Cap'n Crunch, clam chowder, cheeseburgers, corn bread, corn on the cob, corned beef, croissants, crepes, cider, cashew chicken, cupcakes, crackers, cake, cookies, corona, Canadian bacon, curry and carrot cake.

The Third One

Poutine is one of the most interesting foods in the world today. Its like a cheeseburger and fries without the meat, or bun. Or condiments.
Poutine was invented in France in 230 AD after the fall of the Ming dynasty. French people were getting pissed off about having to eat these fruity little chinese hors d'oeuvres, which back then was spelled, and pronounced Whore Dirts, because they were much less classy back then
These chinese Whore Dirts were little balls of random meat that was grated up and mixed with whatever kind of edible looking things the Chinese food makers could find; berries, play dough, Gak, and the cheese powder from Kraft dinner, (which was primarily mixed with spaghetti due to the lack of tomatoes in both France and China). These balls of meat and other weird things were wrapped in paper and fried and eaten with the hands.
The french were angered by how clean and easy the food was to eat, and the minimal amount of mess it left behind. The french were a messy and foul people and wanted their hands, face and Mavi jeans to be covered in cheese curd and gravy by the end of the meal. Try as they may to eat the food in a messy way, those god damn Chinese whore dirts were just far too clean.
The saviour of French cuisine was born in 206 AD, and his name was Henri Henri Henri Chauvignon-Jackson. He looked at the current state of french food, and noticed one problem. It wasn't French, it was Chinese. So he found a way to incorporate foods that the Chinese hated. Gravy, french fries and cheese.
It started with a plate, which he stared at for 3 days trying to come up with ideas, but the plate wasn't talking. He sat in his basement and planned, but nothing came to him. Fed up with his lack of ideas, townsfolk threw potatoes through the razor sharp bars that guarded his window, slicing the potatoes into deliciously small and thin pieces of goodness. Henri was drinking his cup of gravy, a traditional french beverage consumed before bed, when he fell asleep at the table, but the sound of falling french fries alerted him and he awoke with a shock, spilling the gravy on the fries. Saddened by his waste of a delicious semi liquid, he began to weep over the plate of spoiled food. He started to cry, cry tears, tears of cheese. Yes, Henri3 was the first Xmen and his mutant power was he cried cheese.
He then decided to eat it, why the hell not, right? He quickly realized how ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE IT WAS! He ran outdoors and told the towns people, and they rejoiced, and poutine was named the national dish. However, due to the cheese shortage after the Hindus raided the countryside and stole all the cows, Henri had to find an alternate way to produce it. So the townspeople took turns satisfying his wife in his sight, causing him to weep cheese into buckets that were poured into cauldrons of gravy.
In his honor, Poutine is now France's main food group, that and butter. France only gets 2.

The Second One

I came back pretty fast. Mostly because you can't do much else but write a plain introduction with your first post, and that wasn't enough to satisfy the itch. After failing to cure it with Goldbond, I am back in the saddle again.

I have a pretty sweet idea.

I have been told that there are some people out there, who rather than work several jobs to earn the money to buy all the neato stuff that they wish to buy, take a whole different approach to the whole "getting paid" thing.
There are, again, I am just going by what I am told, apparently people out there who simply steal money from other people in order to buy neato stuff. It is a pretty interesting concept. It's sort of like multi-level marketing. I was gonna say Pyramid Scheme, but I think this holds a totally different shape.

Rather than work at Walgreens for minimum wage stuffing groceries in a bag, then going to Wal-Mart and stuffing groceries in a bag before coming home and crying yourself a bathtub of tears to bathe in 'cuz your water bill hasn't been paid in four months, you apparently can get OTHER people to do the work for you and then take the money from them. It's like a staffing agency with less paperwork. No forms to fill out, no signatures. No recruiting, In fact, you can just choose whoever you want to work for you. Let them work, then when it's dark out and they are walking home, you push them over and take their wallet.

This would never work for me, because my cardio is atrocious, and I am sure if I stole someone's wallet and ran away, they would not be inclined to call an ambulance for a hyperventilating, would-be thief who just stole their wallet and forced them to walk three quarters of a block to take it out of the hand that isn't clutching my chest.


My idea works as such. For those out there who are much more fleet-footed yet lazy at the same time, I propose we change the social contract on muggings. As it stands, if you steal someone's wallet, you take all the money they have inside, and likely rack up their credit cards on Hannah Montana albums and other junk you are too embarrassed to purchase with your own credit cards.

If someone were to steal my wallet, they had better not set their sights on anything more than $12.95 if they want to save themselves the embarrassment and social stigmatization of saying "Oops, wrong card" 7 times before walking out sheepishly empty handed.

With my new proposal, if a mugger were to steal your wallet, he should have to be weary of the risk of stealing a broke man's wallet. If someone were to steal your wallet, and you are broke, then they should have to pay your credit cards for you. It's only fair. You steal my wallet, and I'm rich, I won't even chase you. No way am I gonna bother getting wind burn on my Banana Republic khakis over mere pennies when I have another twelve grand in the change cup of my Benz.
However, you steal my wallet, and I'm poor, after you get over the initial joy of spending all 65,000 Club Z points I had been saving, you will be expected to pay all my credit card debt. You took them, theyre yours now son.

I think it would lead to a fashion revolution. After this takes hold, rich people will no longer be walking around with their BENCH collars sticking up fourteen inches above their newly manicured hair dos, (seriously what is up with the damn collars on those things, you would swear that Bench is made strictly for the Padaung women with the neck rings.)

Rich people would be dressing like hobos hoping no one would take their wallet and poor people would be walking around in designer jeans with diamond encrusted wallets hanging out the back pocket, just parading around in the alleyways at 4 o'clock in the morning.

I think I might be on to something.

The First One

So I have made a blog, hooray!
Now when I have spare time at the end of the day I can use it writing stupid things to entertain my friends and other people who may or may not know me, which is pretty radawesome because I don't have time to do that in person and I can totally constitute this as human contact.

"I'm not anti-social, I have a blog!"

"What do you mean we haven't talked in 2 months? I emailed you the link to my blog."

I totally just used the second one via electronic media 17 seconds ago, which is funny on several levels:
1) That was the first thing I had said to that person in nearly 2 months, via any form of communication
2) It was done via internet chat.
3) I haven't even posted this yet, so it wasn't in fact true.

You will see many more instances of me explaining why my jokes are funny as you continue to read this. Most of my jokes come with instruction manuals, which is why this blog is so awesome, because it will save alot of trees, and cut down on my printing costs.

I am ending transmission now because the button below that currently says "SAVE NOW", but changes to "SAVING" "SAVED" every eleven seconds is driving my insane.

Good Day.